The Grey God (War of Gods 4) Read online

  “Something happened,” he said, gazing at her with the intensity that disturbed her.

  “Leave me alone for a bit.”

  “Wanna spar? Kicking my ass always makes you feel better.”

  Jenn hesitated. Sparring with Darian kept her mind busy, for the Grey God was unpredictable in the ring. At the same time, she wanted him away from her.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said at her silence. “I just … let me get the blood off before the vamps start circling.” Darian stepped away to a towel rack. He peeled off his shredded shirt and wiped himself down with a towel.

  Jenn’s gaze took in his lean body. There was no part of him that was soft, from the chiseled abs and hips to his thick biceps. His was a body that had been honed until all that stood between muscle and air was a thin coat of skin. She’d always had an eye for a man with a body, and Darian’s was perfect.

  As if sensing her look, Darian turned. He met her gaze, his intense look steady. Jenn felt warmth bloom in her body in response to his stare.

  It’s not going to happen, she told herself, striding to the ring. She wasn’t going down the path Xander said was hers. Darian was a god, one betrayed by the only woman he’d ever loved. She was the last in a long line of servants. Even if her position among the Guardians was among the highest levels, she still considered herself a slave to her duty. She tried to tell herself this was why she couldn’t let them get close. As good as she was a lying to others, she didn’t believe herself.

  “Go easy on me,” he said, entering the ring with her, sans shirt and shoes. “I just took on five Others. You can have the first—”

  Jenn didn’t wait for him to finish but launched a kick straight for his head. Darian ducked, eyeing her as he moved away.

  “Someone’s not playing today,” he murmured. “All right, c’mon.”

  The words had barely left his mouth when Jenn launched a quick sequence Xander helped her perfect. He’d taught her a few things during the two weeks he toyed with her, among them, how to combine her flexibility and speed into something more lethal. He’d taught her to dance in the ring to outmaneuver the seven-foot vamp’s hard strikes.

  “Nice!” Darian breathed, reacting to the quick succession. He missed one strike, and she pulled the punch, not wanting to hurt him despite her anger.

  Where Xander used brute force to subdue an opponent, Darian was wily. The moment she paused, he pounced, reminding her of just how fast he was. Jenn adjusted her stance, keeping more of a distance from him than she would Xander to give her more time to react. Darian pierced her defenses twice. She braced herself for the blows before recalling he’d never struck her full force. Unlike Xander.

  They sparred hard for several moments, until Darian’s upper body carried a sheen of sweat. He eased back so they could both catch their breaths.

  “You’ve learned a few things,” he said.

  “Darian, I swear you’ve gotten even faster.”

  “You’ve gotten slower.”

  She glared at him.

  “I don’t mean that how it came out,” he said quickly. “What I mean is that the world moves more slowly. I don’t know how else to explain it, except it’s how I beat the Others, too.”

  “It makes sense. You have more magic now. It’ll react differently with your natural abilities.”

  “You move differently,” he said, gaze sweeping up and down her frame.

  “Xander taught me how to use my body.”

  Darian’s gaze flew up to her face. “He did what?”

  “You know,” she said with a wink, unable to resist the urge to mess with him a little. “You ready for round two?”

  “How did he teach you to use your body?”

  Jenn almost laughed at his sudden intensity, both flattered and terrified to see just how interested in her he was. The part of her job she’d never tell people: Sometimes she loved messing with the dangerous men she spent her life around. Instead of answering, she lashed out at him, following her kick sequence with an elbow to his chest. Darian deflected it and dropped his hip, sweeping her legs out from under her.

  Jenn shifted her weight and rolled into a somersault, leaping up before he could pin her. Darian anticipated her first kick and snatched it, sweeping her off her feet again and falling with her this time to keep her from escaping. Jenn broke his first chokehold and elbowed him in the back of the neck, this time at near full-strength. She expected the blow to faze the Grey God, but it didn’t. He reacted too fast for her to counter, snatching her forearms and shoving her onto her stomach. His weight kept her from moving.

  “Don’t tell me you slept with him,” he said, his hot breath on her cheek.

  “It’s what I do, Darian. You know that,” she snapped. “You’re two seconds away from me kicking your ass.”

  “Make it sixty. I’m enjoying this too much.”

  So am I. She didn’t know where the thought came from. His magic warmed her from the inside out, the gentle current spreading through her body the longer they remained in contact. She’d sparred with Darian hundreds of times and never noticed the way he smelled or the heat of his body against hers. They both breathed hard from their battle. His breath tickled her neck and sent shivers through her body.

  “I’m serious, Darian,” she warned again. “Two seconds. One.”

  “I surrender,” he said without moving. “I’d rather die here than elsewhere.”

  “Two.”

  “If—”

  She snapped her head back and felt it crack him in the nose. Darian muttered a curse and rolled off her, gripping his nose. Breathless, Jenn pushed herself into a sit. The Grey God’s broken nose bled for only a second before the wound healed.

  They stared at each other.

  “Xander didn’t pull punches, Darian. I learned to move differently so I could survive. I had no choice.”

  “Wrong,” he said firmly. “You could’ve told Damian you were in danger. Or me.”

  “Ikir Damian would’ve understood danger is part of my job,” she said, rising. “I’m going to take a quick shower and catch some sleep. Jonny should be back soon. He’ll want to see what you brought him.”

  Jenn left him in the gym and trotted through the halls and up the stairs. She was wired with a different kind of energy after the sparring session, one that made her remember all too clearly how she’d felt under his body.

  Definitely not a good sign. She ducked into her room.

  “Jenn.”

  She stopped and stepped back into the hallway, too preoccupied to notice Jonny standing in front of his door. His gaze swept over her body, lingering on her breasts, and she wished she’d stopped by the locker room to pull on a shirt instead of racing to get away from Darian.

  “Hello, Jonny,” she greeted him.

  “Yes.” He continued to gaze at her, his eyes showing the same fire Darian’s had when he returned from killing Others. Only Jonny’s was a high borne of blood and sex. She could smell both on him.

  “I’ve gotta get cleaned up, then I can find you to talk,” she offered.

  “I love the way you smell when you’ve worked out.” Jonny approached her until he stood toe-to-toe with her, gaze taking in her body. She saw his upper lip swell as his teeth grew, stimulated by lust. “It makes your skin glow.”

  Jenn pooled her mind control power and released it. Jonny flinched, took a step back, then focused again on her. With a sinking stomach, Jenn admitted she had less than a day of influence left on the Black God. The mental blow would’ve destroyed a human’s mind and scrambled a Guardian’s indefinitely. Jonny barely registered it.

  “I’ve always admired you,” he said. The dark lust was gone, though his gaze still carried too much interest. “Until now, you’ve been stronger than I. I feel that will change soon.”

  “Darian killed five Others and brought you their heads,” she said calmly, unwilling to react to his words. “Maybe he knows what they’re doing.”

  “Five?” Jonny asked
. “Wow.”

  “You need to know what he found out,” she told him, shoving the rest of her magic at him.

  “I need to know what he found out,” he echoed, gaze going to the stairwell.

  “I’ll talk to you in the morning.” Jenn stepped aside. The Black God hesitated one more time before striding forward.

  She went into her doorless room and into the bathroom, sagging against the closed door. It was almost two in the morning. She’d be lucky to get any sleep with the vamps hovering over her and before facing one god no longer under her influence and another with a wild streak that might get them all killed.

  Jenn wiped her face. Her hand went to the symbol around her neck. Whatever happened, she chose her path long ago. She was strong enough to get through this. Maybe. If Jonny or the Others didn’t kill her.

  She took a cold, three-minute shower and then dressed. Her emotions still felt too close to the surface; exhaustion would only make them worse. She needed a little sleep while the vamps were out hunting. She trotted down the stairs to her window and paused. Darian sat on one of the couches. Her pile of blankets was folded next to him.

  “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” she asked.

  “Even I need a break,” he replied. “Killing five Others is no joke.”

  Jenn looked at him. He did look beat, though still wary of the vamps lingering in the shadows of the great room. She picked up a pillow and two blankets, spreading one on the floor a foot from the window before plopping her pillow down.

  “Hope you dressed warm,” she said, sitting. She pulled on her knit hat and braced her bag of weapons between her body and the window before lying down on her back. “It gets chilly here.”

  “Body warmth,” he replied and joined her, lying beside her.

  He was warm, she admitted. His magic filled the space around them, bending light and shadows in a way she found as mesmerizing as flames or the falling snow.

  “D and I used to camp out on the beach when we were little,” Darian said. “You ever do that?”

  “The life of a god and a servant were very different,” she replied. “I was put to work before I turned eight.”

  “You must have some good memory of the immortal world.”

  Her thoughts were on her family. She touched the necklace at her throat, the hole within her growing. She wondered what a life surrounded by those with the luxury to care for one another was like. She’d seen Sofi and Damian together, their love and attachment. When Dusty found Bianca, she swore she’d seen a miracle, for the master assassin was the last person in either world she’d ever have thought would fall to something like love.

  Love, after all, was nothing more than being vulnerable and waiting for someone to hurt her. At least, she’d thought this until Dusty succumbed to it. The day she’d met Bianca, she’d known Dusty would know unconditional love from the Healer.

  Jenn had felt alone after that day but thrilled nonetheless. Dusty deserved happiness after all he’d been through. But she … she didn’t want what came with that kind of happiness. Loss of independence, complete surrender, placing her fate in another’s hands.

  She’d never be able to trust someone with everything or find her equal the way Damian and Dusty had found theirs. She’d give anything to be treated as Sofi and Bianca were: as treasured partners. She was too different, though, too independent. She’d never found someone with her mental toughness, someone who could challenge her. Someone who could love her and understand how important it was that she remained her own person. No man she’d ever been with could tolerate the part of her that refused to be caged.

  Some small part of her yearned to feel that sense of unconditional safety and affection. But doing so also meant sacrificing her independence and the risk of losing everything that meant something to her, a potential lifetime of pain. Again. It wasn’t worth it.

  “I take it that’s a no.”

  “No, I don’t,” she whispered. “Considering what happened to you there, I don’t know how you can look at it with any kind of fondness.”

  “It’s where my family was and where I grew up. Damian, our father and mother. Trust me, I need all the good memories I can keep,” he said, a dark note in his voice.

  “Do you still have those issues?” she asked curiously, rolling onto her side to face him. She propped her head up on her hand.

  Darian was stretched out in the space beside her, hands beneath his head. For the first time since arriving at Jonny’s, she wasn’t cold. His warmth made her drowsy and comfortable, and she liked the feeling.

  “The memories will never leave. Every day with Czerno …” He drifted off. “I need those good memories.”

  Jenn studied him, unable to fathom the type of evil he’d endured. That he was remotely normal now made her realize how strong he was. He seemed unaware of the world or his effect on it at times, but he’d not only survived the Black God, he’d regained his mind.

  “You’re an amazing person, Darian,” she said. “I don’t know how you did it.”

  “I had help. Couldn’t even walk when Sofi first found me. I had to let go of my pride and realize I couldn’t heal alone. That was probably the worst lesson for someone who was a White God. Thank goodness I was too brainwashed to know it.”

  “Sofi helped you, but you wouldn’t have gotten far if you weren’t as strong as you are.”

  “Strong or stubborn?” he mused. “I’m going with stubborn.”

  “I’m serious, Darian. I admire that about you. You lost everything in the worst way possible yet you don’t let your past cripple you like it does … others,” she managed.

  “Some scars stay just below the surface. No one can see them but me.”

  “I’m sorry, Darian.” She couldn’t help hurting for him, all too sensitive to the scars left by her own past.

  He rolled to face her, mirroring her position. While she welcomed his warmth, the space between them seemed to shrink. They gazed at each other.

  “Don’t be. You didn’t do this to me,” he said.

  I’ve treated you like shit the past few days. She felt frustrated with herself, knowing what he’d gone through. But she wouldn’t be the one to hurt him again, and he wasn’t going to be the one to pry open the door to her heart. She’d work on burying her emotions again, this time deeper than before.

  “I admire you, too, Jenn. More than is probably good for either of us,” Darian whispered.

  “You shouldn’t, Darian.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  He touched her again, the gentle stroke on her cheek sending warm shivers through her. Her gaze swept over his frame. She found herself liking this Darian too much. Unlike most men, he didn’t back down from her, a reaction that intrigued her. She wanted to push and tease him to see how far he’d let her. But part of her knew Darian would not only excel at the games she played with people; he’d push back. He played to win. For the first time in her life, she thought she’d found someone she wasn’t sure she could challenge without losing herself in the game. The idea of losing herself to Darian was more appealing than she expected.

  “Good night, Darian,” she said and shifted onto her back.

  “I’ll watch over you tonight. I think you need the sleep. Someone needs to take care of you.”

  Jenn didn’t respond. A twinge of gratitude sprang up, and she suppressed it. She wasn’t about to encourage Darian, not when she couldn’t handle the results. She didn’t think she’d fall asleep with the thoughts of her family and Darian’s body close enough to make hers tingle with more than warmth. Whether he used his magic to put her to sleep, or her body needed it, she instantly fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

  She stirred after dawn, startled to see she’d slept so late. A shadow fell across her, and she rolled onto her back, unsettled to see Darian gone and another Guardian standing over her.

  “Ikir Damian sent me to get you,” he said. “There’s an issue.”

  “Give me a minute,” she sa
id and hastened to her feet. She adjusted her clothing and weapons then swept the backpack up and trotted to the locker room. Jenn splashed water on her face and brushed her teeth quickly.

  She heard the sound of someone beating a punching bag. It was too early for the vamps to be up. She went to the door leading into the gym, pausing to watch Darian. He was covered in sweat, the muscles of his exposed back rippling with his movement. He was beating out his demons, the way he did every day. She felt dirty again for treating him as she had, even if it was for his own good.

  Jenn pushed herself away from the doorframe and returned to the foyer. The waiting Guardian paced, eyeing the vamps that had gathered around to glare at him.

  He held out his hand as soon as she appeared.

  “Ready,” she replied and took it.

  Chapter Six

  Darian stepped off the gym floor and showered quickly, disturbed by Jenn. Last night had brought him no closer to figuring out why she was pushing him away, though he’d begun to realize his body’s response to her was endangering his own resolve not to be involved with anyone else ever again.

  He retrieved the bag with the heads of the Others from a locker and exited into the hall.

  The Black God awaited him. Jonny looked wary, the same look every Guardian and vamp alike gave him.

  “These are for you,” Darian said, handing off the bag.

  Jonny accepted it and opened it. He frowned.

  “You asked for a daily report,” Darian reminded him. “This was yesterday’s catch.”

  “I didn’t think you could do it.”

  “Of course I can.”

  “Give these to the vamps on duty,” Jonny said. “I had my fill last night. Where’s Jenn?”

  Darian reclaimed the bag. Jonny’s gaze went upwards, as if he could see through the ceiling to the second floor.

  Towards Jenn’s room.

  A different instinct went off in Darian’s mind, one that recognized the look on the Black God’s face as being another sign Jenn was in more trouble than expected.