The Black God (#2, Damian Eternal Series) Read online

  The newer generation of vamps stuck with Jonny, rendering the division along generational lines as well as philosophical ones. He was struggling to recruit and train the younger vamps when much of the support infrastructure he needed had not yet been rebuilt. In the meantime, the vamp veterans were running circles around them.

  His rebellion had turned into a civil war.

  “No,” he said at last. “That’ll invite too many questions. You’re the best Tracker there is. We’re catching up.”

  “I’m the only Tracker there is.”

  It wasn’t funny at such a time, but Jonny fought a smile anyway. Charles’ dry wit was often inappropriately timed and almost always appreciated.

  Charles pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. He read the report texted to him.

  “What is it?” Jonny asked. One of the few vamps he trusted completely, he didn’t bother trying to access Charles’ thoughts, a trick he’d picked up while learning how to harness his newfound power.

  “Vigilante got one of our teams.”

  Jonny rolled his eyes. “I don’t have time for some stupid Natural running around beating up vamps. He’ll cross the wrong vamp soon enough.” He started walking through the bodies to ensure every one of his enemies was dead. Valon was too smart to send anyone with real value against him. The recruits would have no idea where their leader was hiding.

  “He usually targets the rogue elements and not us. Too bad he never kills any of them or he might be worth directing towards the rogues,” Charles mused, following.

  “The idiot will be dead in a week or less.”

  “Yeah. You want me to do the usual here?” He motioned to the dead bodies around them.

  Jonny glanced around, unconcerned about leaving the bodies of traitors. The smell of newly turned vamps, however, made him pause. His new recruits, as well as those being led by the rogue leader Valon, were mixed among the dead. “You know what? We’re leaving them this time. But remove their fangs first.”

  Charles raised an eyebrow.

  “Fangs to show the rogues and our own recruits how serious I am about betrayal. Bodies for the White God to clean up for once, since I’m doing him a favor killing half my people.”

  “Smart as always.” The vamp chuckled. “We’ve got human witnesses. What do you want done with them?”

  Jonny didn’t even bother looking towards the five hotel employees herded into a corner by three of his loyal vamps. “Dinner,” he said. “Catch and release protocol.”

  “Want one saved for you?”

  “Female, red hair.”

  “Always delicious.” Charles said, entertained. A true predator, he never cared about the appearance of whoever he drained, but Jonny had taken a liking to redheads for dinner. “I’ll take her back to your place. We had a good night.”

  It was hard for Jonny to be optimistic when his failure as a leader had lead directly to this night. Inexperience and war, combined with the changes he’d implemented in a culture and organization whose traditions spanned tens of thousands of years before he was born, resulted in constant crisis. Reform came at a steep price, one he was beginning to suspect would cost him over seventy percent of the vamps remaining before this mess was over.

  “Did our team report in with the talisman?” he asked.

  “Not yet.” Charles checked his phone.

  “If they’re late, send in as many as you can spare to rescue them. We can’t let the rogue vamps get it.” With the Others out of play, he’d stumbled upon one of their secrets while tracking and eliminating the last of them. The Others were able to locate vamps and Guardians at will, which was one of the reasons they were such a threat. No one was able to hide.

  Once he figured out how to use it, the otherworldly device would make the difference between him defeating the rogue elements and Valon’s vamps winning this war. His only challenge was preventing word from leaking to the Guardians about his civil war before he could stop it.

  “Understood,” said Charles. “You headed back?”

  Jonny shook his head. “I need to ask someone something.”

  “Ah. Good luck.”

  Jonny didn’t reply. Charles could help him with tactics and strategy, but so could anyone else who had been around long enough. His ongoing struggle was with understanding the power of a god charged with being the devil. His off and on guidance came in the form of the Original Vamp, the first natural born vamp, who was as dangerous as he was helpful. Jonny was tired of not knowing how to fix his own issues without asking for help from someone likely to cash in the favors one day. On nights like these, he didn’t feel like he had much of a choice.

  He Traveled to a nearby beach and knelt to wash his hands in the cold waters running onto shore. Releasing a breath, he rolled his shoulders and head, unable to shake the wired frustration he’d been dealing with for the past four months. As much as he loved the ocean, it wasn’t helping calm his nerves this night.

  Being a god wasn’t easy. Being the Black God … well, he’d had to unlearn a lifetime of reality in order to embrace his duty. His job was to ensure the survival of a race of predators who fed off humans, and he’d long since reached the conclusion he couldn’t do it alone. He didn’t have the numbers or the infrastructure he needed.

  The vamp way of life for the past ten thousand years wasn’t sustainable. He’d already won one war and wasn’t anywhere near capable of facing another so soon. He wasn’t willing to continue the long-standing war with the White God when the casualties were already too high – and disproportionately vamp.

  To preserve his people, he needed peace. And peace meant difficult compromise.

  “What is it?” the low growl came from the mentor he hadn’t been certain he wanted to see.

  Jonny straightened and faced Xander, the biggest vamp and man he’d ever seen in his life. With long, dark hair and glowing red eyes, Xander was about as welcoming as Jonny’s dinner would be when his intentions became clear. Having been warned off multiple times from approaching the secluded house where Xander and his family lived, Jonny had begun going to a beach nearby, close enough for Xander’s protective wards to warn him but not so close as to make the psychopathic vamp hostile.

  “I have a small problem,” Jonny began, not about to admit the full truth to the creature who bartered information to White and Black Gods, depending on whose side he felt like being on.

  “I haven’t heard those words in a while.”

  Jonny bit back his initial response. Xander was a vamp, yes, but he wasn’t his vamp and he was well connected. “Yeah. Believe it or not I figured out some stuff.”

  “I believe it.” Xander’s muscular arms were across his chest. He approached and paused at the edge of where the water reached the sand. “I always knew you had potential. How bad?”

  “Pretty bad,” Jonny allowed.

  “Does it have anything to do with the vamps you’re whacking?”

  “Yeah.”

  Xander glanced at him. “Not just cleaning house or disciplining vamps, are we?”

  “It’s partially it,” Jonny replied.

  “Damian believes you to be crushing any dissension in the ranks. But I have a feeling there’s something else going on.”

  “It’s none of your business, or his, Xander, how I do my job,” Jonny said firmly.

  “Fine. What am I doing here?”

  “Was my predecessor able to track vamps?”

  “You have trackers for that.”

  Sorta. Two of his three Trackers, except for Charles, had absconded with the rogues. “I know. But even they sometimes run into difficulties. They can only track within certain distances and under specific conditions.”

  Xander was quiet briefly before responding. “He could, yes. The White God’s powers are known quantities, passed down from father to son. But each Black God is going to have a slightly different set of abilities than his predecessor based on what you inherited from the Naturals before you.”

  “Can thos
e gifts be delayed in appearing? Like my mind abilities suddenly appearing during year three?”

  “They can. Some can lay dormant for centuries or millennia before emerging.”

  Jonny’s heart sank. He didn’t have days to wait for a new ability to emerge let alone centuries.

  “Borrow Trackers from Damian,” Xander suggested.

  “Yeah, because partnering with the White God is in my best interest.”

  “If you won’t go to the only person who can help you, then do what he does. Identify Naturals and vamp them before he can get to them. It’s the way it used to be done.”

  “Hmm.” Jonny considered what it’d take to start a program like Damian’s capable of identifying and tracking Naturals. He didn’t have the manpower or time to stand up such a tasking. “Or I could just steal access to his program.”

  “Could,” Xander agreed, amused as always by the tug-of-war between the gods. “You’d face some stiff resistance from those guarding it.”

  Jonny’s mind was already working through this dilemma. He reviewed what he’d learned of the White God’s organization the past few years. Attacking any of Damian’s large bases of operation was out of the question when he was hunting vamps day and night. But the recruiting points and three to five man stations located in cities across the country were more vulnerable, and each of them had someone capable of accessing the database where Damian’s recruiting records were kept.

  “Okay,” he said. “I like this idea.” Satisfied yet not surprised his mentor had once again pointed him in the right direction, Jonny faced the large vamp. “How’s the fam?”

  “None of your business, as usual,” Xander replied.

  Jonny expected the response yet couldn’t help being disappointed by it. He’d walked away from Xander’s now stepdaughter, Ashley, four years before. Xander made Jonny swear to never look back if he ever wanted help, and Jonny had obeyed.

  Sometimes, he let his mind wander to who he had been, to a simpler life where he slept more than three hours a day and wasn’t constantly at battle. Sometimes, he experienced a flicker of regret when he thought about how he had ended things with Ashley. Not that she’d want anything to do with him. He’d nearly gotten her and her family killed and in the years since he’d seen her, he’d killed too many people for him to count. A sweet girl with a fragile disposition, she was better off without him, and yet, he still thought of his first love on occasion.

  “Focus on your vamps,” Xander advised. “We both know how it ends if you come within a mile of my place or my family.”

  Jonny was quiet. He wasn’t in a position to take on Xander. No one was. Not even the White and Grey Gods combined were a match for the Original Vamp. “Yeah. Thanks. Until next time.”

  He left Xander on the beach. Traveling to his quiet, isolated headquarters on the Oregon coast, he knew something was wrong the moment he materialized in the open foyer area of the main lodge.

  Charles was standing over a bloodied vamp, his fist raised as if to strike the downed creature again. The two of them – and everyone else present in the foyer – froze. Jonny assessed the situation briefly. The vamp on the ground reeked of human blood and lots of it.

  “Problem?” he asked in the terse quiet.

  Bristling, Charles nonetheless lowered his hand and stepped away for Jonny to handle the vamp. Hands-on discipline was one way Jonny kept his people in line.

  “Stefan killed one of the hotel employees,” Charles explained.

  Jonny knelt beside the vamp, who averted his gaze. The vamp was one of those turned since Jonny had come on board as the leader and tightened up their recruiting requirements to ensure only those who could follow his orders were vamped. The failure of a newer vamp despite the recruiting protocols was a personal disappointment for him. “Is that true?” he asked.

  “Yes, ikir,” came the response. “But I –”

  “– lost control. Didn’t mean to but couldn’t stop,” Jonny guessed. “Correct?”

  The vamp nodded.

  “It’s the same thing everyone says. Do you know what it means?”

  Another nod. The vamp was staring hard at the floor.

  “It means you’re too weak to be a vamp if you can’t follow my orders. You can have as much blood as you want as long as you don’t kill,” Jonny said quietly. “Our people have a real chance of living in peace. No more war. No more hiding. No more being hunted like animals. But we have to prove we aren’t animals for that to happen. The future of our entire race depends upon you following the rules I create so we aren’t dragged into another war.”

  “Zero tolerance,” whispered the vamp.

  “Zero tolerance.”

  “He’s a newbie Tracker,” Charles voiced softly.

  “He’s of no use to me if he can’t fucking follow orders,” Jonny replied firmly. “One vamp will not jeopardize the future for the rest of us. Every vamp gets one kill – the one that turns him into a vamp. No more.”

  Charles said nothing. Jonny was cursing inside. He needed every Tracker he could get. All the vamp had to do was refrain from taking a life. If he was still hungry after he ate, he could find a new blood supply. There was no limit to the amount of humans they could drink from in a night – as long as the people were left alive.

  “But you kill,” the vamp whispered.

  “I do,” Jonny said. “Because mercy in my position is considered weakness. I learned that four months ago, when Valon took half my surviving vamps with him. I show mercy in only one way now. You know what that is?”

  Another nod.

  “What’s your decision?”

  The vamp shifted to sit. Jonny smelled his fear. He had long since hardened himself to the necessity of killing, even if it was a vamp with a skill he desperately needed. But he didn’t like it. He didn’t care to kill humans, and he hated killing his own loyal vamps. The harsh discipline needed to rein in his predators had been the hardest skill for him to learn.

  “You,” the vamp said finally.

  The vamps who broke the rules with capitol punishments were given the choice of how to die. Quickly, by his hand, or slowly by starving to death. Most chose quickly, though a few initially had tried to wait out death or perhaps, wait for him to change his mind, by starving.

  “Your service was appreciated,” Jonny said and stretched out to rest a hand on the back of the vamp’s neck. He drew a knife with the other and rested it against the vamp’s neck. “Rest in peace, Stefan.” The words were not unkind though he kept his regret to himself.

  An audience had formed. He preferred to kill in public, a reinforcement of his rules. Those surrounding him were silent. The vamp before him was starting to panic and closed his eyes.

  Jonny slid the knife into the vamp’s neck to pierce his artery and withdrew it. The vamp slumped, blood racing down his neck and into his lungs. He began to cough and then choke before collapsing onto the ground.

  The death wasn’t as fast as Jonny could make it with his magic, but each vamp he disciplined had to become an example for the rest. Jonny waited for the red glow of the vamp’s eyes to extinguish before standing.

  “Send his body and that of whomever he killed to Damian,” he told Charles. “We need to talk after.”

  Charles nodded and motioned for two nearby vamps to grab the dead body.

  Jonny glanced down and away.

  He needed a Tracker, and he needed every vamp left for the looming civil war. But at the end of the day, they had to follow his rules. The future of his people was more important than the life of any single one of them.

  Even if taking the life of one of his own for a mistake Jonny understood too well made him feel ill. He retreated to his bedroom, his dark mood further dampened by how his night had ended.

  Chapter Two

  Ashley landed on the ground with a grunt and immediately rolled, sensing the knife of her opponent plunging towards her head. With the agility and instincts of a Natural gifted to fight, she moved deftly and sil
ently, even when she was getting her ass kicked by the second largest vamp she’d ever seen.

  If she hadn’t been trained by the largest and fiercest vamp in existence, she’d be worried.

  She leapt to her feet and blocked then unleashed a series of kicks and punches, one of which pierced the vamp’s defenses. He gasped and doubled over, leaving her ample target area to pound into until he finally fell unconscious on the ground.

  Chest heaving, she lowered her guard and reached up to straighten the mask she wore to hide her identity. It was perfectly quiet for a moment, and she used her Natural gift to explore the area around her without looking.

  The four vamps were down. Not dead, though, which meant she had to hurry. She spun and crossed to the two women and one teenage boy tied together in one corner of the warehouse she’d been monitoring. It was a popular spot for the vamps, but this was the first time she had seen them bring any innocent humans with them. She hadn’t intended to fight them this night; she’d never fought more than two at a time. But the innocents caught in the grips of monsters changed everything.

  “You okay?” she asked and knelt beside the woman nearest to her. She cut her free and moved on.

  “Y… yeah,” came the uncertain response.

  “What the hell just happened?” the teen boy asked.

  Ashley’s hands paused. She’d planned for the day she decided to face the vamps but she hadn’t thought about what to tell the people who witnessed either her otherworldly fighting or the monsters with fangs.

  “I don’t know,” she said and then kicked herself mentally. “But you’re safe. You all need to leave.”

  Two of them got to their feet and looked around. She helped the third up.

  They were moving too slowly for her comfort. With a glance at the four unconscious vamps, Ashley raced to the exit and opened the door in the hopes of hurrying them along.

  They went, but not before one of the vamps started to get up.

  Ashley snatched the wooden doorstop and flung it, her aim as true as her instincts. “Stay down,” she hissed. The doorstop smacked into the back of the vamp’s head. He dropped.