The Black God (#2, Damian Eternal Series) (13 page)

“Outright slaughter in exchange for war with
the White God no matter what the costs to the vamps are,” Jonny
murmured. “Tell me everything you know about Valon, Charles.” He
faced his loyal second and leaned back against the railing of the
porch, arms crossed. A cool breeze tickled the back of his neck
while Ashley’s taste lingered in his mouth.

“He’s old. Respected. He is part of the old
guard, middle management under your predecessor who rose in
importance during the chaos of the first year or two you were in
charge. I imagine he didn’t have the internal support to challenge
the previous Black God.”

Jonny’s jaw tightened at the frustrating
reminder of how poorly handled his learning curve had been. He’d
been a stupid kid when he assumed command and since then, had
gradually transformed into a deserving leader.

“He’s shrewd. Strong,” Charles added.

“So he waited until my alliance with Damian
to kill the Others was over to act,” Jonny said.

“Or he waited for the Others to weaken your
support base,” Charles said with a shrug.

“Then he absconds with half my vamps after
revealing what he is and is working on provoking the White God so
I’m faced with a two front war.”

“The war with the Others to weaken your
position, Valon to take it.”

It was a smart plan. But at the end of the
day, there was only one way for Valon to claim the mantle of the
Black God. A one-on-one battle fought between two contenders for
the position. It was the honorable way to determine who deserved to
be the Black God. “Can he fight?” Jonny asked in a level tone.

“Yes. He can,” Charles replied. “But so can
you. Between the two of you, you’re smarter by far. Valon lacks
vision and strategy.”

“It won’t matter if he’s stronger and
faster.”

“Strategy will always beat strength.”

Jonny wasn’t feeling anywhere near as
confident. His predecessor had been much stronger than he was.
Jonny hadn’t been thinking about the future or anything else when
he killed him. He’d been thinking about saving the life of his
sister, who had been in the Black God’s grip. There was no strategy
or even thought behind his victory, nothing but the desperate
emotion of a teen who loved his family.

His mind slipped to Bianca, his sister, who
had become the mate of one of the adopted brothers of Damian. He
saw her on occasion though not often, mainly because of the
opposite sides of the fence they sat on. Whenever he started to
doubt himself, he thought about the day he’d almost lost her, and
the doubt vanished.

He was destined to become
the Black God. He was meant to be there, not Valon. Why the
universe chose a boy over a vamp, he’d never understand, but he no
longer asked himself
why
anymore and focused instead on how to fulfill his
vision for the vamps’ future.

Charles was watching him, waiting for him to
speak. Jonny straightened and dropped his arms, not about to feel
backed into a corner when he’d worked too hard – and changed too
much – to become who he was.

“I’ll be traveling armed from now on,” he
said with a small smile. “And we’ll be resuming my sparring
lessons.”

“Of course,
ikir.
”

Jonny started past him, needing some alone
time.

“Anything else?” Charles asked.

“Give me some time to think, Charles. You
may be right about approaching Damian sooner rather than
later.”

Charles said nothing else, and Jonny
retreated to his bedroom. He wasn’t interested in the ginger this
night, in sex, and he was full after feeding off Ashley. After
gently suggesting his dinner sleep in a different room because he
was ill, he closed the door behind the bedazzled woman.

Jonny went to his dresser and opened the top
drawer, where he kept some weapons at Charles’ insistence. He
withdrew the long knife he’d used to kill his predecessor, Czerno,
and studied it. Hefting it made the threat of Valon seem too
real.

Tucking it into his waistband, he went onto
his veranda.

He wasn’t tired either and sat in the open,
observing the clear sky and gleaming reflection of stars off the
distant waves. Vamps were nocturnal, though he did his best to keep
hours that left him mentally clear for any interactions with
Guardians or humans.

Jonny sat in silence, unable to pinpoint
exactly what his thoughts were about the Valon issue. He didn’t
feel anything he thought he should, and the lack of fear or anger
or regret left him frustrated and confused. Despite his occasional
loneliness, the memories of Bianca’s near death, the idea he’d be
working on his Masters degree if he were normal, he had
unconditionally accepted what he was and his position as the leader
of the blood-sucking monsters he didn’t know existed before
becoming their leader.

This acceptance, above all, surprised him
more than discovering another godslayer was gunning for the job he
wasn’t about to give up. It dispelled any concern he had about his
lot in life and left him proud of how much he’d grown over the
years. Rather than worry about Valon, he experienced a renewed
sense of confidence and purpose.

The future of and entire
people –
his
people – depended upon his successful achievement of his
vision.

Valon thought him weak and undeserving of
the Black God mantle, and Jonny was going to show Guardian and vamp
alike just how powerful the right person in the Black God’s shoes
could be.

Charles texted rather than knocking, and
Jonny pulled out his cell.

We picked two Natural Trackers. Orders?

Jonny smiled, pleased by
the news.
Vamp them. One can kill the
ginger. Grab a junkie for the other. Make them kill tonight.
He responded. In order to turn into a vamp,
someone had to be bitten, drained near death, fed blood by an
existing vamp and then take a life the same way. The process was
normally drawn out in two phases so the middle management of vamps
could screen out recruits who wouldn’t fit into the vamp mold as
well as discreetly uncover junkies and others who wouldn’t be
missed – or cause red flags to go up with the Guardians – when they
went missing.

Suitable or not, the Trackers were too
valuable to wait. Between them and Brandon, Jonny would soon have
the hammer he needed to smash the traitors.

Charles second text was too long to be
simple acknowledgment. Jonny leaned forward to rest his elbows on
his knees as he read it.

Your vigilante hit another
safe house. Left you a message, too.
He had
attached a picture of a mask like the one Ashley had been wearing
when he confronted her.

Jonny found himself more intrigued by her
defiance than he warranted natural for the situation. If she were a
vamp, she’d be punished severely for disobedience. But he had no
real sway over her, and she seemed to know it.

What she was doing was dangerous, not only
to his operations, but to her own existence. He hadn’t quite
figured out how to handle her. He had to balance Xander’s potential
interference with teaching Ashley a lesson in a way she backed off.
A direct challenge was apparently not the right approach and
neither was purposely letting her feel the pain of his bite. If
anything, those attempts at lessons had only galvanized her.

His mouth watered as he thought about her
taste, the feel of her body pressed to his. In another world, one
without Xander, he’d snatch her and keep her as the ultimate source
of food. She wouldn’t be compliant and submissive like the women
whose minds he warped to accept his need to feed from them. Ashley
was lively, independent, strong. She’d be an incredible sparring
partner in bed and out with the added benefit of her ability to
regenerate blood fast.

And … she’d be a good friend. She had been
at one point, anyway, and easy to talk to with a huge heart.

Unfortunately, he lived in a world with
Xander, which meant his approach was going to have to be different.
Jonny shot a text to Charles and then sat back in his chair, eyes
on the sky again.

There had to be a way to discourage Ashley
if biting her wasn’t going to work. He just had to figure out what
that was before she got herself into the kind of trouble she
couldn’t get out of. Or worse, the kind of trouble that started a
war with Xander.

“Why are all the dots blue today?” Ashley
asked with a frown as she peered over Brandon’s shoulder.

“Because you’re too stubborn to listen to
me.”

“A vamp is a vamp.”

“Not when some of them are Jonny’s and he
knows where we live.”

Ashley shook her head. Jonny hadn’t come
after her a second time last night. Was he giving up on warning her
off or too busy doing real work to bother? Either way, she viewed
her second takedown of his vamps the previous night as a personal
victory.

“Isn’t it your night to dance?” Brandon
asked in irritation as she stood over him.

“I was going to go beat up vamps
instead.”

“Go dance. You’ve been driving me crazy all
week. I’ll plot out a few spots for you to hit when you’re
done.”

Ashley debated silently. She did love
dancing on Friday nights, mainly as a stress release. And this
week, she felt like she needed it more than usual with the Jonny
issue and her frustration understanding what to do if she couldn’t
exact her revenge as planned.

“Okay,” she said. “Maybe it’ll help me think
straight.”

“God I hope so.”

She slapped him on the back of the head and
marched to her room. Changing quickly into leggings, a hip-length
tunic and comfy sneakers, she then tucked her cell phone into her
sock and left Brandon with his computer.

She was waved into the club by a bouncer who
knew her on sight. Ashley started to relax the moment she walked
onto the packed dance floor. She joined the crowd, unconcerned with
dancing alone when everyone else had a partner, and closed her
eyes. The techno beat swept her emotions aside so she could focus
purely on the physical act of dancing her heart out.

She danced for a couple of hours, until the
hair at the back of her neck was damp and the muscles of her body
were warm. Partners rotated in and out with her, as usual, and she
opened her eyes to smile at someone occasionally before squeezing
them closed to focus on the music. Every once in a while, someone
brushed by her or bumped her, and she moved away automatically,
unconcerned by the crowded space.

At least until the touch of a stranger sent
a warm electrical charge through her that reminded her too much of
every time she’d been grabbed and bitten by Jonny.

Rousing herself from the near trance, Ashley
opened her eyes. No vamp stood before her, no one but a few college
girls giggling and dancing together. She started to turn.

“This is what you do when you’re not out
tracking my vamps?”

Ashley stepped back and away quickly,
bumping someone else without caring, and gazed up at Jonny. “What
the hell are you doing here?”

Dressed in dark clothing, he fit in with the
crowd of college kids and young adults. “I owe you one.”

Ashley hated more than how her attention was
always riveted to him whenever she saw him. Handsome and youthful,
his gaze gave him an edge she wasn’t able to define, and his quiet
confidence and strength were out of place among the carefree
college students partying after a long week of class. He was close
enough for her to notice his body heat and his light scent.

“You can’t bite me here,” she snapped,
recovering from her surprise. “How did you find me?”

He shrugged. “Not really any of your
business.”

“So you’re stalking me.”

“Not exactly.”

It had to be some power of his that let him
find her. Nothing else made sense. Agitated with his presence and
disruption to her dancing, she spun away and went to the bar. She
didn’t want to look over her shoulder to see if he followed. She
didn’t want him in her safe place, where she came to relax.

The bartender slid her a glass of water
deftly, and she plucked it up, tense despite her inability to sense
Jonny among the masses.

“I’ve been trying to figure out what might
discourage you from attacking my vamps,” Jonny said from behind
her.

She faced him, unable to retreat when her
back was pressed to the bar counter. Jonny crowded her, one of his
hands on the counter beside her, his heated presence rattling her
senses.

“And you’ve given up,” she guessed. She
couldn’t help the glance at his heart or the memory of what it felt
like for his blood to soak her skin and sleeve. It wasn’t a good
feeling. It made her skin crawl and she’d almost panicked when she
thought she killed him.

“No. You’re a free meal,” he replied.

He won’t bite me in
public,
she chanted to herself. No matter
how close he got to her. The people behind him jostled by, and
Jonny’s athletic frame pressed lightly to hers.

“Want to know my solution?” he asked.

“I don’t care, Jonny. Nothing you say or do
is going to –”

He kissed her.

Ashley’s whole world felt like it stopped
before her internal alarms began screaming. Jonny’s lips were soft
and warm, his scent winding through her senses as she stood too
shocked to move. Fire spread through her, racing along her nerve
endings and pooling in her lower belly. Her skin grew sensitive.
Her heart slammed into her chest.

But it wasn’t his move that
left her reeling. It was the desire, the urge to open to him rather
than run, the need to feel
more.
To taste, to experience him in a way she never had
anyone else. She experienced the same unnerving reaction to him
when they dated four years before, the strange sense they belonged
together or at least, were supposed to. Her lips parted in
instinctive invitation, and Jonny’s velvety tongue slid between
them.