The Grey God (War of Gods 4) Read online

  “I’ve been keeping him occupied,” he said. “He won’t hurt you anymore, Claire.”

  Her smile was bitter. He felt the mood that descended over her without fully understanding it. She normally clammed up when they discussed her father, and today was no different.

  Not wanting to ruin their morning, Darian took her into his arms. Her body relaxed instantly. He made love to her under the forest canopy, the way he had their first night. When they both lay sated, he kissed her and rose, pulling on his clothes as he went to the horse.

  “I hope you brought my favorite,” he called over his shoulder.

  “I did, love.” The dampened mood was still in her voice.

  Something struck the back of his head. Darkness fell over him.

  Claire bounded to her feet, heart pounding. She looked at the man who had been her mate, at Isac, then at the third man with them, her father. The White God fell into a heap.

  “Father, are you—”

  “We’ve done this before, Claire,” he snapped.

  “I know—”

  “Grab an axe. We’ll bury him in pieces, where no one will find him.”

  She obeyed, as she always did. Isac was the first to slam an axe into Darian’s body, his brutal strikes falling over and over. She stared, numbed, as her father joined them.

  Her whole life, no one had made her feel as Darian did. Like she was special. Like she was more than the daughter of a whore and a sick nobleman. They’d pulled similar scams on other wealthy men, mostly in the mortal world, outside the view of immortals who might see them. Her father’s wealth had come from his whore-daughter’s ability to charm any man she chose.

  “You want to be queen of the immortals?” her father called.

  “Of course,” she whispered.

  “You either take what you want or become a victim to someone else who will. There’s no turning back.”

  She gripped the handle of the axe more tightly, hands clammy. Her mate, her only love, was nothing more than bloody pulp. The towering, muscular man who held her until she fell asleep every night and made love to her as if she was the only woman he’d ever known was no more. There was nothing now but to claim his throne. She’d find another man to hold her; she always did.

  “You do it, or you’ll never be queen,” her father said. “Only a member of the White God’s family can kill him. Your marriage ceremony bound you to him. This is the only way you will ever be queen. Now, make your choice, daughter.”

  Claire squeezed her eyes close for a moment. She pushed the thoughts of Darian from her head, instead focusing on seeing herself seated in his throne. Opening her eyes, she raised the axe and let it fall, grimacing at the sounds of flesh splitting. She stumbled and looked down, surprised when she realized it was the ground shaking and not the dizziness she felt at hurting the man who’d truly loved her.

  “Father!” she cried, knocked to the ground.

  “What is this?” Isac shouted as he struggled to remain on his feet.

  The rumbling of the earth ceased. She stood. Just as suddenly, the earth began to buck hard enough that trees creaked and smashed into the ground. It stopped again.

  “Slay the White God, slay the balance.”

  Claire twisted to see who spoke and was struck by the tall, slender man who stepped from the shadows of the forest. His eyes and hair were black, his features noble. He walked like he was the White God, with confidence and command.

  “It’s a naughty thing you’ve done,” he said, eyes taking her in from head to foot. “You’ve saved me some trouble, but you’re too stupid to know what is to come. I need Darian alive, in case the plan to rule the mortal world doesn’t quite work out for me.”

  “Isac, take his head,” her father ordered. “We’ve got two bodies to bury.”

  Terror on his face, Isac stayed where he was. A moment later, he dropped the axe and ran. Claire stared after him then looked back at the stranger in black.

  “The boy-god will need a body to burn,” the stranger said, eyes lingering on her father.

  “Damian will die next. My daughter is the ruler of the immortal world,” her father said.

  “Whore, kill your father.”

  Claire’s body rose and grabbed an axe. She fought the invasion, unable to control her own motions.

  “Father, run!” she cried. “I can’t control—”

  Her first strike slammed into her father’s head, cleaving straight through it. Claire screamed, unable to pry her hands free of the axe’s handle. She struck him again and again. When she tried to close her eyes, the magic controlling her body forced them open again. Over and over, she hacked her father into pieces, sobbing and screaming.

  Finally, the magic left her. She dropped to her knees between the two bloodied corpses, hoarse from screaming. The ground still trembled, and trees fell in the distance. The stranger stepped next to her, surveying the damage. He hefted an axe.

  “Please don’t,” she whispered. “I’ll do anything. Please don’t kill me.”

  He crouched beside her, his cold smile filling her with a fear unlike any she’d felt before.

  “I have plans for you, my sweet Claire. You will do anything for me. Starting now.”

  He snatched her and sank his fangs into her neck. Claire screamed again, batting at him in desperation to escape. The man didn’t let her go until her world grew dark. She dropped to the ground, senseless.

  “I’ll be back for you, love,” the man said. “You’re mine now, and so is your lover.”

  Fading in and out of consciousness, Claire blinked to try to clear her vision. “Who … what are you?”

  He fished around in the remains of Darian and yanked free something that glimmered silver in the early morning light. She recognized the necklace that marked Darian as the White God. The man tossed it on the body of her dead father. He leaned over to her and yanked off the necklace marking her as the mate of the White God.

  “I’m Czerno, the Black God, your new master and mate,” he said. “You disabled my greatest enemy for me. I’ve got a deal with a certain faction of immortals to bring him back to life and keep him around until I need him. You, love, I have more than one use for. I’ll enjoy fucking you for eternity.”

  Czerno. Claire heard the rest of his words without registering them. Immobilized, fear rose within her as she watched the Black God lift Darian’s bloody form from the ground. He disappeared. He hadn’t been gone long before another form came into her view. Too weak to focus, she didn’t know who it was until he’d knelt beside her.

  “I warned him,” Jule whispered. “Czerno’s marked you. I suppose this rights your wrong, though I will never forgive you.”

  He rose and left, his visit so quick, she wasn’t sure she really saw him.

  The roar of the earth grew louder. Unable to move, barely able to breathe, she watched the sun climb into the sky. It was blood red, casting a shadow the color of blood over the immortal world. The ground rumbled more violently as the sun rose, until it began to split open. At long last, she heard a familiar voice.

  “Darian!” Damian’s white-blond hair was familiar to her before his face came into view. “My gods!”

  Claire heard him drop beside the body he thought was his brother’s and begin to sob. She used what strength she had to roll onto her back, desperate for a Healer. Damian clutched his brother’s necklace in one hand, the reins to his horse in another. Two Guardians pushed him out of the way but hesitated, unable to lift a body she’d completely obliterated.

  “Don’t worry, Claire,” Damian said, regaining himself. “We’ll find out who did this and kill them. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  She felt him lift her, falter with the shaking earth, then manage to heft her on top of a horse. She sagged against the horse’s neck.

  “Ikir.” One of the Guardians stepped towards him. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”

  Damian wiped his face, staring at the pulpy mess of the body before him.

&nb
sp; “We need to go, Damian,” Jule said, pulling his horse to a halt. “The gateway between worlds is barely holding up. We have to get you to the other side.”

  “I won’t leave him, Jule,” Damian said, sinking to his knees beside the body.

  “You must.” Jule slung himself down from the horse and dropped beside the boy-god. “There is more at stake here than your brother’s life.”

  “I can’t!”

  “The human world will fall to the Black God if you aren’t there to protect it. What would Darian tell you to do?”

  Damian’s shoulders shook.

  “He’d tell you to fulfill your duty, Damian.”

  “Build a pyre here,” Damian whispered at last. “He deserves a decent burial.”

  “Take her to a Healer,” Jule ordered, motioning to Claire. “We’ll find out what happened later.”

  Claire’s horse was led away. She watched the Guardians gather wood in the eerie light of the bloody sun and start the funeral pyre for her father’s body. Exhausted, she closed her eyes, Jule’s words to her from earlier echoing in her thoughts.

  Czerno’s marked you.

  Day of the Schism

  Immortal World

  Peasant quarter of the imperial city

  Duty, honor, courage, selflessness. Jenn, the only daughter of a low-ranking noble’s servant, repeated the mantra of the Guardians for days before taking the sacred oath. She looked around at her family and that of her mate. She steeled herself for their rejection, reminding herself she did it not for them, but to give her daughter a better life.

  “I joined the Guardians yesterday.” She braced herself for their reaction. All talk hushed around the tiny table where their families shared their first and last meals of the day. The wooden table had one leg propped up by firewood, and only three of the eight chairs matched. The tiny main room of the small dwelling was lit by one window.

  “Then you’ll unjoin,” her father said first.

  “Today,” her mate added. “You have a daughter. You can’t be so selfish.”

  She toyed with her food, gaze going to the closed door behind which her two-year-old daughter slept. Her mate and father were near the same age, over double her eighteen years. They agreed about everything when it came to her life.

  “They pay more than shoveling shit,” she said.

  “You should be grateful you shovel shit in a noble house and not a whorehouse,” her mate replied calmly.

  “There’s more to life than shoveling shit! I can create a better life for Talia in the Guardians.”

  “The Guardians are for warriors, Jenn. You’re not a warrior. The mortal world is no place for a mother of a small child,” her father said.

  “Mother, please! You must know I want what’s best for Talia. This is the way to get there,” she said, turning to her mother.

  “Do as your father says. You should be grateful for your station. If he hadn’t saved that nobleman’s child years ago, you’d have been sold on the auction block,” her mother said. “You have a comfortable life.”

  “The child should’ve settled you,” her mate’s mother chimed in. “The apothecary has calming herbs. I’ll fetch some next time I am in town.”

  “Besides, you should focus on producing more children,” her mother added. “You have a noble master who will find places for all your children.”

  “I don’t want more children,” Jenn said, shoving her plate around. “I don’t want the one I have to grow up like this!”

  “Be grateful,” her father snapped. “We have more now than we ever did.”

  “Mother, the apothecary is a good idea. Jenn’s mind does not work as it should. No mother should want to leave her child to go to some other world,” her mate said.

  “I’ve heard of this happening before, but normally right after birth,” his mother said. “An apothecary might not be enough for the type of medication she needs.”

  “We can appeal to our noble master for a Healer,” her mother said.

  “Healers fix the body, not the mind,” her mate said.

  Jenn slumped at the table as they talked on around her. Her gaze went to the door where her baby slept. She got up without finishing her meal and escaped into the room where Talia was. Jenn’s tension fled from her as she picked up the small child and hugged her close. She tugged off the necklace around her neck, the one marking her as the last in her father’s line. She slid it over her daughter’s head, giggling when she saw how big it was. The symbol was her father’s pride and joy. He was the first of his bloodline to earn one, and the coin-shaped pendant was new and bright.

  “This belongs to you, my Talia,” Jenn whispered. “You’ll grow into it.”

  As much as she hated her life, she loved her Talia. Jenn’s gaze went towards the main room of the dwelling. No doubt, the family still sat around discussing how to fix her. They’d done the same when she found out she was pregnant, locking her in a room until she gave birth.

  For your own good, they’d told her.

  Looking at her daughter, she was grateful for the one part of her life that brought her joy. Talia awoke at her movement, her eyes as large and dark as Jenn’s. Her hair was short and curly, too, unlike the blond, blue-eyed father that’d all but raped Jenn on their mating night.

  For your own good, he’d told her.

  She’d never let him touch her again, but once was enough for Talia to grow in her belly.

  Jenn touched Talia’s soft skin, smiling. Talia smiled back then tried hard to grip the pendant, fascinated by its shininess. Jenn laughed softly at Talia’s chubby hands trying to grasp the bright bauble. Talia caught it finally and held it up.

  “It’s yours. I wanted to give it to you, in case I …” Jenn’s throat grew tight as she looked at her little girl. “I have to go, Talia. I want so much more than this. For both of us. I’m going to the mortal world. I’ll save my coin and find us a home there. I just … I can’t stand it here. I want us to have a chance.”

  Talia played with the pendant. Jenn wiped the tears that formed. Her whole body hurt at the idea of leaving the little girl. At least Talia would have a family to care for her until Jenn returned.

  “I might be gone awhile, Talia,” she said. “I want you to know I love you. I’ll think of you every day and I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

  Jenn set Talia back in her roughly hewn bassinet and rifled through the trunk containing the family’s possessions. She pulled out a rusted dagger and the best pair of boots she had. She had little else in the way of possessions, aside from the necklace around Talia’s neck.

  With one last look at the bassinet, Jenn left the room. The family ceased talking as she appeared.

  “I’m going to the Guardians,” she said firmly. “I’ll return for Talia.”

  Her proclamation startled them in to silence. She left before anyone could shut her up again in a room, running once she’d closed the door to the hovel the two families shared. Exhilaration filled her as she raced down the street. She’d done it! She’d escaped them at last!

  She’d build a new life in the mortal world and kidnap Talia if necessary to get her child away from her family. Her daughter would grow up loved, not tolerated, in a world wide open with possibilities. There was no way to move up or improve life in the immortal world, but Jenn heard tales of the mortal world. It was wild and free, and Guardians could stay there, if they chose to.

  Hopeful for the first time in her life, Jenn glanced up and stopped.

  The sun was red. She stared at it. She’d thought it cloudy, for there was little light this morning. Even the red sun couldn’t dampen her mood. She ran all the way to the Guardians’ barracks and stopped, awed.

  The barracks were plain but sturdy, made of stone. She walked through the gateway and imagined herself as important as the White God walking into his palace. The bailey was clean, the stables large and well-built. She joined a line of mostly men in front of a low stone table. Each received a scroll with informatio
n on their first day of training and assignments. She fidgeted as she waited.

  “Lots of women signing up,” one of them said behind her.

  “They heard how the White God’s mate slept her way to the top then landed a god,” another snickered.

  Jenn glanced towards them. Even their words did nothing to suppress her excitement. She waited until it was her turn to receive her scroll.

  “Jenn,” she said, stepping forward.

  The seated Guardian looked down his scroll, gaze lingering on a name. He reached under the table for one of the scrolls.

  “Mind manipulator. You tested high. Your quarters are in the third building. Training starts tomorrow morning at dawn.”

  Almost shrieking in excitement, Jenn snatched the scroll and ran. She’d passed the first two buildings before she remembered to look around her. She entered the third and walked down a hallway. The barracks was loud with chatter from other new Guardians. She walked room by room, seeking an empty one, and finally found a room that didn’t seem taken.

  Jenn entered and set her few belongings down on one of the beds. She instinctively reached for the necklace no longer around her neck. Her hand fell away, and she sat on her bed, startled to see someone else was in the room. The boy looked to be around ten with blond hair and cold, steady blue eyes.

  “Hi,” she said. “I’m Jenn.”

  “Hi,” he replied.

  “Do you have a roommate already?”

  “No.”

  “You’re young to be here, aren’t you?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t know they let girls in.”

  “They do,” she said with a smile. “Special ones, anyway.”

  “I’m not special.”

  “You must be, if you’re here.”

  “I should be dead, like the rest of my family.”

  “But you’re not. I’ve heard the stories about the mortal world. You’ll see. You’ll be glad you’re alive.”