The Grey God (War of Gods 4) (5 page)

“Farewell,” the Watcher said.

“Watcher, wait!” Damian shouted. “You can’t leave—”

The Watcher blinked out of existence. The youth was near panicking again.

“Come, Dustin, we’ll find a place for us,” she whispered and held out her hand to the little boy. He came stoutly, the only among them not immobilized by fear.

Duty, honor, courage, selflessness.
She chanted the words as they walked towards the horizon. There was nothing she could do for Talia. Her god and the Guardians needed her. She’d made her choice the moment she took an oath to the Guardians. There was no immortal world to go back to now.

Your fate is with the White God, Jenn.

Chapter One

Present Day

Fortress of the Black God

The Black God was slipping out of her influence. Though he consulted her as frequently as he always had, he no longer took her with him everywhere he went or told her what he was doing. In fact, he rarely looked her in the eye, as if she was a reminder of something he didn’t want to recall.

Jenn did her best to act like everything on her end was the same. She came as soon as he called, offered encouragement when he seemed lost, and pretended to believe his shitty excuses as to why he wasn’t taking her with him this time.

Maybe next time,
he always said.

She stood before the panoramic window of his lair, gazing at snowfall so thick, it hid the nearby mountains from sight. The steady downward spiral of snowflakes was mesmerizing, peaceful. Dawn had come an hour earlier but only just managed to push away the shadows of night from the cloudy mountain hiding place that had become her home. And probably her grave, she admitted to herself with a grimace.

Duty, honor, courage, selflessness.
Her worry faded with the comforting words. If she didn’t make it out of here, she’d at least go down serving the Guardians and the White God.

“You sleeping down here now?” Jonny, the Black God, broke her Zen-like moment.

“I figured I’d rather see who was coming for me than risk being killed in my bed,” Jenn replied without turning. “Xander took my door off a week ago.”

“Xander wouldn’t …” Jonny drifted off. “I can … well, I’ll think about talking to him.”

Jenn rolled her eyes at the window. Jonny’s newfound confidence melted like snow every time the name of Xander—the tree-sized forefather of all vampires—was mentioned. But she let Jonny’s words slide, as she did everything else he’d said to her the past few days.

“I appreciate you taking care of me.” She said the words she knew he wanted to hear.

“I made a promise,” Jonny said, his tone confident once again.

“And you’ve kept it,” Jenn said, turning to face him.

The Black God glowed like a storm cloud. His dark eyes and caramel features seemed much older than his nineteen years. He’d lost the air of indecision and regret, trading it for acceptance and resolve. In less than two weeks, he’d aged, transforming from the lost youth she’d tried to take care of into a young immortal exploring his dark powers.

“If you want, you can sleep in my chamber,” he said.

Jenn looked at him carefully. He’d taken a few different vamps to his bed the past few days.

“I mean, if you’re sleeping on the floor, you can sleep on
my
floor,” Jonny added hastily, once again the teenager who’d been in love with her for months.

“I appreciate it, Jonny,” she said with an understanding smile and added to herself,
no way in hell.

“Unless … you can … I mean the safest place is in my—”

“On your floor. I know,” she said, not allowing him to complete the sentence. “I’m proud of you, Jonny. You haven’t lost your honor. Czerno had none.” The mention of his predecessor had the opposite effect of mentioning the Original Vamp.

“I’ll be better than Czerno,” Jonny said, dark gaze flaring. “You’re right, Jenn. He lacked honor. What he did to my sister …”

Jenn eased back on her Guardian power, the ability to manipulate minds. Jonny was slipping out of her ability to use it, in any case, though he seemed more vulnerable to her manipulation when he was emotionally raw. She’d been testing him several times a day, astonished to learn just how quickly he was growing into his new powers. She’d be unable to use her gift against him in a matter of a few days.

She resisted the impulse to check her watch. She’d programmed it to display a countdown rather than the time. She had just under fourteen days left with the Black God until his bargain with her boss was up, and she could go home. With four days at most remaining in her ability to control the Black God, she suspected she’d be dead in five.

“I’m using the skills you taught me to interrogate someone else,” Jonny said. The last of his thoughts about her in his bed slid away with the final push of her magic.

“Are you discovering what the Others are doing in your ranks?” she asked.

“They seem to be looking for something,” he replied. “The last vamp whose mind I read was convinced it was a treasure hunt. And they want something … here.” Jonny looked around.

“Something or someone?” Jenn asked, thoughts going to the Original Vamp.

“It could be a someone,” Jonny replied. “You think that’s possible?”

“I think anything is possible with the Others. You and Damian threw down the gauntlet. If they haven’t acted by now, they’re waiting for something,” she said pensively.

“True. Who could they want? Me?”

“I doubt it. What use are you to them? They’d be looking for someone who could help them win their war. I mean, that’s what I’d do.”

“Someone like Xander, maybe.”

Jenn shrugged. “It doesn’t seem likely, but then again, we really don’t know where his loyalties are.”

“You think …” Jonny shifted. “You think Xander might not be loyal to me?”

“I think Xander tries to control you.”

“He’s my advisor.”

“What advice does he give you?” she challenged. “I’m saying you need to keep an open mind. And if it is Xander, maybe the Others want something from Xander that Xander himself doesn’t know he can do for them.”

“That’s much more likely.”

Jenn cursed silently. She’d been planting hints for days that Xander couldn’t be trusted. Jonny was all but immune to them. Rather, he was looking for an excuse not to believe them. She understood why. As the chief of the spies in this hemisphere, she’d been in a lot of really bad situations with nothing but her charm and mind control to keep her safe. She’d never met anything like Xander, who was not deterred by even a god’s powers.

“It could be you, too,” Jonny added. “What if they know you’re helping me? They might want to steal our secrets.”

“I’m not worth an Other’s attention,” she replied.

“But like you said, what if you don’t know it?”

“Maybe. But between Xander and me, he’s got more power than you and I combined.”

A troubled look crossed Jonny’s face. “He does, doesn’t he.”

“But, like I said. It’s almost impossible to know. Just stay open to other options,” she said.

“I will, Jenn, thank you.”

A small team of four vamps approached the window and stopped at the edge of where the carpet from the hallway met the tile of the foyer. She looked them over dismissively, calculating what it would take to kill them all. She could take them. Two looked sleepy and one wasn’t armed.

Jonny followed her gaze. “I’m going to town.”

“You want me to go with you?”

“No. I need to do some things. Maybe next time.”

“I’m here if you need me, hon,” she said, not surprised to be excluded again.

“Thanks, Jenn.” Jonny’s words were more heartfelt than she warranted necessary. Jonny turned to go and joined the four. They walked to the front door of the mansion built into the side of the mountain.

Jenn watched him until he was gone then glanced at a vamp lurking in the shadows. Jonny had assigned her a surveillance team in his own home. They’d quickly learned to keep their distance after she killed two who thought they’d get in her way.

Her thoughts went in a different direction. Jonny didn’t seem to know her fate, which meant Xander hadn’t told her secret, that she was intended to mate with the Grey God. She still found the idea far-fetched. Darian had followed her around like a lost puppy before she was assigned to the Black God. She’d thought it was because his brothers were busy. Hindsight—and Xander’s revelation—made her look at his persistent presence and brotherly protectiveness in a new way.

If the Others wanted to find a way to keep the Grey God from assuming his role as the Gatekeeper between immortal and mortal worlds, they’d likely find her a good target. But she wasn’t about to reveal that to Jonny. At least, not until he ordered her killed. Then, it might work as a bargaining chip.

Jenn glanced at her watch. At this rate, what Xander - the forefather of all vamps - told her wouldn’t matter. She’d be dead soon enough.

She couldn’t help feeling relieved the Black God didn’t want her going with him this time. She’d moved to Miami for a reason: because she didn’t like the cold. The winter storm made her want to huddle under the covers. Instead, she’d slept with her back to the panoramic window with her down vest and boots on for warmth. And her weapons in hand.

Go for a walk.

As someone accustomed to planting ideas in the heads of others, she recognized the thought as coming from someone else. Jenn cocked her head to the side. It wasn’t Xander—who wouldn’t hesitate to twist her mind like a Twizzler—and it wasn’t Jonny. She glanced at the snowy scene outside the mansion then gathered her small backpack of weapons and strode to the door.

The vamps followed her only to the door. She stepped into the cold, snowy day and pulled on a cap.

West 100 meters,
the voice told her.

Jenn drew a knife and obeyed, guessing whatever awaited her couldn’t be much worse than the Black God or Original Vamp.

Darian caught his reflection in the mirror as he walked down the long hallway of the White God’s Texas headquarters. He paused to look at himself, studying his rugged features and swirling gold eyes. When he looked too fast, he still saw the jagged, deep scars that the Healer had gotten rid of.

They’re still on the inside,
he mused, troubled by his smooth skin. Once a god then a slave, he was just starting to figure out who he was now. His brothers gave him his space and their lifemates kept him company.

From the corner of his eye, he saw one of the many animals his brother Dusty’s mate had rescued. The orange tabby was twice the size of every other cat he’d seen. It sidled up to him and wound between his legs until he picked it up.

“Wouldn’t happen to know the secrets to the universe, would you?” Darian asked, gazing into its clear green eyes.

The cat purred. Darian had survived two lives and was on his third. He wondered if he had nine like a cat. Darian tucked the feline under his arm with one more look at the mirror.

He wanted his old face back, the scarred one. This new face reminded him of everything he’d never be, of lost opportunities and misguided hope.

Darian walked down the hall and stairwell to the study where his brother, the White God Damian, was probably plotting how to outsmart the pesky little immortals who’d declared war on them. Damian sat at the desk, bent over his iPad as he scanned messages and reports from immortals across the globe.

Darian watched his little brother, at once proud of the White God that Damian had grown into and crushed by the sense of his own failure. Damian had taken his place when betrayal rendered Darian near-dead then enslaved to a madman for thousands of years. Neither of their lives had been easy. Damian’s nature was not like Darian’s and their father’s, but he’d shouldered the responsibility to protect humanity and battle the Black God without question.

“We don’t need any more damn cats in this house,” Damian said, glancing up.

“I kinda like them,” Darian said. He crossed to the seat in front of Damian’s desk and propped his feet up on the desk.