Blackhearted Betrayal (7 page)

The Rebuker narrowed her eyes and bared her teeth in a downright unfriendly manner. “Do you really, Daughter? All
three
of you?” She turned her glare onto first Mom, then me, and my suddenly weak knees barely managed to keep me upright.

The Deity currently serving as Defender stepped in. “Peace, Ala. You already know these two of the Tisiphone remain steadfast, or the ambrosia would have smote them instantly.”

Oh. My. Gods.
That
would have been nice to know
before
we slugged it down like Jack D. Or—maybe not.

Ala—I recognized the name as that of an African fertility goddess associated with justice—sniffed as if not completely convinced but dialed back the divine wrath a few notches. “Perhaps
they
remain steadfast, but the same cannot be said for their entire class or even all those who share their maternal bloodline.”

Mom and I shared a silent, miserable glance. Ala could only be referring to Nan, since Cori had not yet pledged herself to Their service. We had a few distant cousins still active in the Sisterhood, but none close enough for the Deities to classify as belonging to our
maternal
bloodline.

Epona leveled a no-nonsense look on the Rebuker. “These two have been
chosen
to serve as our Nemeses among the Tisiphone. So, as your husband said, peace.”

If I remembered my African mythology correctly—definitely not my strong suit since there were so many different tribes on that continent—Ala’s husband was a thunder god who enforced the law the same way she was
said to actually give the law. Ironic, then, for her to draw the role of Rebuker to his Defender.

Ala sniffed again but relented. “Fine, then, Kamanu.
You
proposed these two as Nemeses.
You
give them their charge.” The words were civil enough; but her tone most definitely was
not
. Seemed immortal spouses could annoy each other just as much as mortals.

Nemesis—also the name of one of my Amphisbaena—was a Greek goddess who never actually existed, at least not as her own separate entity. The title referred to whichever of the Furies the Triad selected to carry out their investigations—or punishments—against whatever immortal had sinned against the Deities as a whole. I didn’t know much about them for one simple reason: Rare were the immortals stupid (or powerful) enough to piss off enough of Their brethren to the point that the Triad needed to move against them. I did know this much, though: Serving as a Nemesis meant a Mandate to end all Mandates, one that would drive a Fury to pursue her charge with quicksilver speed and Rage riding high until the sinner had been brought to justice. To fail didn’t risk mere madness—it meant certain death.

Kamanu turned his lightning-bolt eyes in our direction. His role of Defender should have lent him a comforting air, but it didn’t. Those crimson eyes edged in silver looked nothing so much as demonic. Plus, just knowing that
he
had been the one to suggest Mom and me for what would be a ridiculously dangerous job prevented me from feeling any warm fuzzies toward the man. God. Whatever.

“Allegra and Marissa Holloway, you have been Chosen by the
Gens Immortalis
to serve as Nemeses against one of its number. For millennia, he numbered among the
lesser gods rather than greater, serving as one of the Death Lords governing a portion of the Underworld. Recently, however, he has been amassing large amounts of power, forging bonds with other lesser gods, and becoming something rare in the immortal world: their liege lord.”

I blinked. The concept of pledging fealty to an overlord had originated among the Deities rather than mankind, though medieval mortals had taken to the concept like ducks to water in a time of upheaval. The immortal world had once been even more chaotic than the mortal realm; not so surprising considering the sheer number of gods and goddesses ruling over similar spheres. For quite some time, weaker gods had pledged to serve stronger gods, carrying out their orders in the divine, arcane, and earthly realms. Eventually, those stronger gods became the dozens now known as full-blown Deities, and the lesser gods began serving them as a whole rather than individually. Much like we Furies did, actually.

For a
lesser
god to pledge other immortals to him as their liege lord was more than just rare, come to think of it. I had
never
heard of lesser gods accepting another lesser immortal as overlord.

Apparently, Mom hadn’t, either. “I don’t understand. I thought only a greater god—a Deity—could forge the bonds required for liege lordship. I also thought liege lordship had been done away with at the same time that arcanes reached the Peace Accord with mortals. For an immortal to bond others to himself now must surely be an act of …”

Her gaze flew to mine and realization sank in.
Well,
duh.
An act of war, thus the whole Triad needing to recruit Nemeses bit.

Kamanu nodded. “Indeed. Greater gods have been forbidden to pledge lesser gods to Themselves as liege lords. However, it was never expressly forbidden for lesser gods to do the same since none have ever possessed the power to do so. Many of us now believe that for this lesser god to convince other immortals to swear oaths of fealty must mean one essential truth: He is no longer a
lesser
god at all.”

Mom let out a hissing breath. “So you believe he has made the transformation from lesser god to greater.”

All three Deities nodded although Ala looked distinctly sour at having to do so.

Kamanu gestured with the Defender’s shield. “By our laws, if he is still a lesser god, then he has not
technically
broken any precepts and cannot be punished for swearing others to himself. If, however, he has broken some other precept—such as gathering an immortal or arcane army with the intent of using it against other immortals—or if he
has
made that transformation from lesser god to greater, then he must be brought before the Triad to answer for his crimes.”

Those were an awful lot of
ifs
. Especially if—ha—they planned to send us out into the world as Their Nemeses. Surely they had something more concrete to go on.

“If, for instance, the Prime Tisiphone now refuses to serve as Voice for the Triad and, in fact, has not answered any summons for the past several weeks, and it can be proven that she has pledged to serve this particular immortal individually, we would have all the proof of wrongdoing we need to make him answer for his crimes.”

This inspired another shocked glance between Mom and me.
Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.
We knew that things had
gotten tense among the Sisterhood; suspected some in our own class had manipulated Nan into challenging Ekaterina, the current Moerae; and knew that Maylin had blatantly refused to appear before the Conclave. But to hear that she had actually had the audacity to refuse a summons from the
Deities
Themselves boggled the mind beyond belief.

I found my voice but kept it calm and respectful. “The faction split in the Sisterhood. You believe it is this lesser god pledging Furies to himself much as he has other lesser gods?”

Kamanu nodded.

Whoa to infinity, then. Mr. Lesser God may have found a loophole allowing him to pledge other gods to himself lawfully, but
all
immortals, whether lesser or greater, were forbidden to pledge Furies to themselves individually. For him to do so meant he was either batshit insane—rare, among immortals and arcanes (except Furies who Turned Harpy)—or he was damned sure he stood a good chance of winning against all other comers. Starting, but not ending, with the Triad, which meant he had a whole hell of a lot of power, magically and politically speaking, and most likely
had
made the transformation from lesser god to greater.

But the Triad still has to
prove
that or some other crime, thus why they need us.
Ancient tradition dictated that Furies were the ones to track down immortal criminals to bring them before the Triad for Reckoning, in large part because only
we
could both channel magical Rage and draw upon the powers of those immortals who bound us to them through a Mandate. These two facts gave us a tremendous advantage against our quarry, not
to mention the fact we were the seasoned investigators and enforcers of the arcane world.

Ala shot her husband a pointed look. “Tell them about the portals. They must know exactly what they are up against before they agree to serve as Nemeses.”

I suspected she was more concerned with not recruiting weaklings who would wuss out on Them later than with our delicate sensibilities, but still, I always appreciated full disclosure.

Kamanu complied. “Around the same time that the Prime Tisiphone fell out of communication with us, several Death Lords reported that another Lord’s sections of the Underworld had become closed off from the areas under their dominion. They attempted to bring us proof that this Lord had turned traitor, but this proved impossible. Not long ago, a group of priests sent by one of the lesser Death Lords vanished after journeying into his territory to investigate the portal failures. Those closed-off areas have only increased over the ensuing time since until, just recently, portals between the Underworld and the Divine Realm began shutting down as well.”

The
supposedly
lesser god they wanted us to investigate not only had enough power to pledge other lesser gods to himself, he had enough juice to cut off
other
Death Lords from his part of the Underworld?
And
had enough spare power to start closing off those areas from the greater gods? Jeez. Us. Forget the
Titanic
and moon-sized meteors; we were onto supernova scales of disaster already.

Mom clenched her hands and looked as displeased as I felt. “And may we hear the name of this—lesser god?” The pause in her voice came through loud and clear, but
she kept her tone a lot more smooth than I could have managed.

Ala and Epona both focused their gazes upon my face as Kamanu opened his mouth to reply. I had no clue why until his unwelcome words reached my ears. “Anubis the Jackal-Headed, Egyptian Lord of the Underworld.”

SHOCK STABBED STRAIGHT TO MY BELLY
, making me distinctly weak in the knees.
They think bloody freaking
Anubis,
the god who hates me because grief and Rage made me bitch him out in front of his priesthood, is plotting an immortal coup and believe Mom and I are Their best hope for thwarting it? The two of us barely-even-demigoddesses up against a lesser god who drummed up enough power to challenge every other Death Lord—and win? Who now has enough power to command other immortals who should be his equals? What the hell kind of drug are They smoking—and, more importantly, where can I get me some?

My penchant for sarcasm in the face of danger helped me straighten my spine and stare at the Triad with every bit of incredulity pulsing through my body. Mom knew
me all too well, despite our twenty-year separation, so she grabbed my hand in a viselike grip and mouthed the words
Calm down!
as if they had a prayer in hell of working. Hell. Exactly where these out-of-Their-minds Deities wanted to send us on a suicide mission.

Rage at Their seeming callousness toward two Furies who had already sacrificed plenty—like, say, twenty years of a mother-daughter relationship we could never get back—quickly caught up to and beat the snot out of former shock. Nemesis and Nike hissed in response to the white-hot flood of anger they could feel as strongly as I did. They probably saved me from certain doom because settling
them
down distracted me long enough that I missed my chance to immortally offend the Triad.

Mom spoke up while my attention was diverted. “Just to be sure we understand, Your Graces …Not only has Anubis sworn both other lesser gods and a faction of the Sisterhood to his personal service, but you believe he has closed off most of the Underworld to other Death Lords and now to the Divine Realm? And you want the two of
us
to find proof of his crimes where the other Death Lords have fa—been thwarted?”

Ha. That showed Mom’s greater gift for diplomacy clearly enough. I would have just spat out the word
failed
to two of said Death Lords without bothering to pretty it up. Because, dammit, that’s exactly what Epona and Ala had done—screwed the ever-living-heck out of the pun-so-intended pooch, in the form of Anubis. Also known as the god who told me if I ever set foot in his domain again, he’d rip my entrails out and eat them in front of me with a side of fava beans and Chianti. And he hadn’t been kidding.

Any other Deity would have taken into consideration
the fact that I’d been consumed with Rage and grief over Vanessa when I’d, um,
requested
help in figuring out whether she really
had
been murdered, but not Mr. Jackal Face. He and Mercy were not only strangers to each other, but I was willing to bet he couldn’t even spell her name,
with
a dictionary.

What sucked even more hard-core was the fact my lover, Scott Murphy, and the entire Murphy clan considered Anubis their personal protector in addition to his position as Warhound patron deity, even the distant cousins who had actually sprung from Epona’s Celtic line. I’d thus far managed to conceal how far I was in the immortal doghouse (ha) from them because, hey, it hadn’t come up. But it damned well
would
if I accepted this Mandate to drag Anubis before the Triad currently out for his figurative blood.