God In The Darkness

by S T Branton

  I stepped up next to Deacon and saw Steph, his blonde, hard-ass partner—and her gun pointing at us. “Her eyes flashed. Her teeth clenched, but she said nothing.

  “I’m sorry, Steph.” Deacon’s gun was out, too, leveled straight at her. “It was something I had to do. It’s still something I have to do. And I really don’t want to hurt you. You have to trust me.”

  She stared at him, emotionless. Her blue eyes registered almost nothing.

  Then she pulled the trigger.

  The amplified blast in the hallway reverberated all around us. My head snapped around to Deacon, waiting for him to drop.

  He didn’t.

  A body hit the floor behind us then melted to dust. Steph had seen the fangs and sent him straight to hell before he could attack.

  “What’s a partner for, after all?” She cracked a smile that almost looked foreign on her face. “Go on. You two need to book it out of here right now. I’ll be able to buy you some time. But hurry up. I’m sure they heard that shot.”

  “Steph.” Deacon touched her shoulder. “Thank you. It’s been an honor to serve beside you.”

  “The feeling’s mutual, St. Clare.” She squared her stance and releveled her gun. “Take care of each other out there.”

  Gunshots rang out as Deacon and I barreled through the remaining distance to the front of the building. As we emerged, the bright wash of daylight slapped us both in the face, grinding our progress to a halt. My eyes adjusted.

  I exhaled, relieved that I had made it to freedom.

  And then I looked up.

  “What the fuck?” The sky was swirling and torn, crawling with all kinds of different life forms. Animal, humanoid, ethereal. Some familiar creatures and others I’d never even seen.

  Colors and light exploded across the clouds, painting a background as surreal as the scene unfolding on top of it. A human shape with wings plummeted toward the earth, encased in fire.

  To the west, a demon with massive, curling horns lurked just atop the horizon.

  The whole thing was composed like a painting. I would have thought it was a work of art if I hadn’t known it was real. So many things I could barely comprehend, and some others I understood too well. But every one of the creatures in the sky had at least one thing in common.

  The gods were descending on New York.

  Deacon squinted and shaded his eyes. “Well, shit,” he muttered. “I’m going to go ahead and say that’s pretty bad.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes away from it.

  “We’re out of time,” I told him. “It’s starting.”

  Deacon glanced at me. “What does that mean?”

  “Remember when you talked about the point of no return?” I pointed to the sky. “This is it. This is exactly it.”

  “What do we do?” he asked.

  I held the Gladius Solis tightly in my hand. “We go to war.”

  EPILOGUE

  Ages of scheming had finally come to fruition. Delano stood behind the desk in the high-rise office that was supposed to belong to a god now dead, his beloved Lord Lorcan. He gazed out on the glorious image of chaos breaking over New York City. The sky, before so nondescript and cloudy, now burst with the spirit of the Forgotten returning to claim their rightful land.

  The transition would not be easy. There would be land wars, sea wars, and countless casualties. The gods, like the humans they often scorned, were no great strangers to violence. But Delano found little in life more invigorating than a good, bloody battle. He was more than happy to observe from his quiet perch as the world tore itself apart below him.

  These were joys he had once shared with Lord Lorcan. Now he must indulge in them alone.

  For the time being, anyway.

  Outside, another fracture tore itself asunder in the firmament. Delano watched a creature force its way out of the asphalt, testing the strength of the realm’s boundaries. Already, he was sure, the puny humans were perishing. Some of them could be kept, of course, as slave labor or entertainment.

  His thoughts turned to the girl with the Gladius Solis. What a wonderful addition she could have been.

  But Lord Lorcan had allowed his own supreme confidence to overthrow his former good sense. His plans became too grandiose, too noticeable. With every iota of attention Lorcan received, the more his ego grew, until he was convinced he could do no wrong. Thus had begun his foolhardy scheme to take Manhattan.

  Thus was the arrogance of the gods.

  Still, Lorcan had not deserved to be murdered in cold blood by that girl. He was a great and powerful god, struck down by a combination of poor judgment and unchecked hubris. The loss would be felt far and wide among the Forgotten, and it was up to Delano to mend the hole Lorcan’s untimely death had caused. But for now, every creature that was once confined to Carcerum saw Lorcan’s death as their shot.

  Fortunately, the Apprenti had had the presence of mind to preserve something from his master, something which could potentially be used to reintroduce Lorcan’s power. It was sitting inside a pressurized case in the desk drawer. Delano still had yet to sit. He felt wrong in the chair that was meant for Lorcan, a usurper on a dark throne.

  He wasn’t thinking of most of those things as he gazed up at the madness that was approaching. Delano was thinking of how sweet the future looked in that moment, a dark one full of struggle, pain, and chaos. The kind of future where a man like Lorcan could rule with an iron fist…if only he had lived.

  A frown crept over Delano’s face. The loss of his master, still fresh, left a bitter taste in his mouth. He was not one to be easily consumed by the idea of vengeance, and yet, he felt Lorcan’s death needed to be cut into the balance of things in order to make it right.

  But how?

  He was lost in these nefarious, scheming plots when the creak of the door brought him back to the office on the top level of the high rise in New York City. He turned, ready to flay alive the person who would intrude upon his grief but was caught still by the presence of beauty wrapped in chains.

  The fallen goddess, Lysiani.

  Next to her was a vampire with a slightly dazed look on his face. “Sorry to disturb you sir, but the lady here wished to speak with you.”

  He was clearly under her spell. Delano considered ending him then and there, but patience took over. Instead, he waved the fool away and moved to speak to his new guest.

  The harpy goddess looked as though she had taken a whirlwind tour through Hell; her skin was smudged and marred by healing wounds, her hair tangled, her clothes torn. But clearly she had regained enough of herself to influence Lorcan’s servants. And now she was coming to try her hand with him.

  She stumbled forward and leaned on the wall with one slender arm, her gaze roving around the room. Despite her raw appearance, she was still lovely. Even the shackles around her feet and wings were like jewelry on a queen.

  “Is it true?” she whispered, her voice like ragged silk in the quiet of the office. “Lorcan is gone?”

  Delano bowed his head. “I am afraid so, Lysiani. Fallen victim to his own pride, he too was unable to defeat the girl who wields the sword.”

  Insulted, Lysiani sniffed. “I should like to see you fight her,” she replied.

  He cocked his head, wondering if she really thought this flattery would get her anywhere.

  “What is it you want?”

  “Revenge. Freedom. Love,” she purred and began fingering one of her chains. “Which of these could you offer me?”

  “And what makes you think I can offer you any? I am but an Apprenti—a servant without a master.” As he spoke, Delano realized the truth of those words for the first time.

  “There is no longer need for false humility. With Lorcan’s death, all of his assets have passed to you,” she smiled seductively. “Including me.”

  “If that’s so,” he said, pacing back around the desk. “Then why give you anything? You are mine to do with as I please—a bird in a cage. What do you offer in return?”
r />   She shuffled forward, swaying as she moved. “Revenge. Freedom. Love. Even in chains, I am not without my power.”

  Delano smiled. There was a rumor that even Lorcan once succumbed to Lysiani’s charms. Alone in this room, he could begin to see why.

  But Delano was not Lorcan. Not one of the hordes of mortals who once threw themelves at Lysiani’s feet. He could see right through her. See the greed and arrogance and weakness.

  Why was it that everyone he encountered suffered from the same vices? Kronin. Lorcan. The girl with her sword and the humans she fought to save. Perhaps that is why this world always lacked order. It lacked a king without pride.

  Still. Maybe there was something true in her words—a pearl hidden among the muck.

  He turned to look out the window, and it was there, with his pail face reflected in the glass, that Delano made a decision.

  “Lorcan left me another gift upon his death,” Delano said, smiling indulgently. “Would you like to see it?”

  “Please,” she said, but he barely heard her.

  He walked around the desk and stood where Lorcan used to stand. In front of him was the large silver case. Delano opened it and showed it to his prisoner.

  Lysiani’s pink lips made a round, awestruck O. “Is that what I think it is?” she breathed.

  “The last of Lord Lorcan’s blood.” He lifted one of the vials into the light. The fluid inside shone like garnet. “I’ve always admired the myriad ways you gods recruited followers. Blood. Sex. Sacrifice. There’s a beauty in it—an elegance that cannot be denied.”

  Lysiani crept around the desk toward him, eyeing the vile in his hand. “I know a thing or two about beauty. It requires balance. Too much of a good thing can be deadly.”

  Delano smiled, then sat in his master’s chair.

  “This world has had its fill of beauty. Maybe death is all that it now needs.” As he spoke, he drew blood from the vile with a syringe and needle. Without pause, he plunged the needle into his neck—the blood burned as it flooded his veins. For humans, the change took days.

  But Delano was no human—the reaction was different for him. And he was no longer an Apprenti either. He was something more.

  Lysiani jumped back in fright, but it was no use. He leapt out of the chair, grabbing her by the throat and throwing her on the desk.

  Her eyes opened wide with fear as Delano leaned in close.

  “What…what are you doing?” Her voice was barely a whimper.

  Delano smiled, two long fangs protruding from his once perfect smile.

  “There is something you can provide me, goddess.”

  She opened her mouth, but nothing came out except for a weak cry. “What?”

  “Your life.”

  Outside the rain of gods continued to fall, long after Lysiani’s screams had faded into silence. Delano, alone now, returned to his chair.

  There were still joys worth sharing in this world.

  Author Notes CM Raymond

  Written April 16, 2018

  Dear Readers,

  It’s a busy month around the Raymond house. Finishing books, filing taxes, and getting ready for some international travel!

  Traveling is something I’ve always loved, whether it’s a few counties away or in a distant land. One of the perks of being a professor for the day job is that I teach a course in Italy on the Italian system of higher education. (Rough gig, right?) This is my third time going, so while foreign, the sights, sounds, and tastes(!) are familiar.

  But after each trip, since the university is already paying to send my ass overseas, I stick around for a bit, and Mrs. Raymond joins me for a little getaway. We’ve seen the mountains of Austria, met up on the Pont des Arts, walked the streets of Portugal, and drank dark beer in the cafes of Prague (among other places).

  This time, we wanted to explore someplace even more unfamiliar, so we book the dear wife a ticket for Ljubljana, Slovenia. Look it up. I had to!

  The country looks beautiful (on the screen) with stunning castles, crystal blue lakes, and green-carpeted mountains. I can’t wait!!

  Travel for me isn’t much different than writing in a weird way… and especially like writing Forgotten Gods. The Urban Fantasy world is SO much fun because the settings and characters are, to the untrained eye, much like the people and places in our world.

  But when you look closer, when you move further in, the fantastic appears! And really, that’s what we hope is happening for you as you ride the Forgotten Gods train further and further in. We’re at the end of the first arc. It’s been a blast… But the Forgotten only knows what lies ahead.

  Thanks for joining us in the journey, and we hope you stay as we find out what in the world is going to happen to Vic, Maya, Deacon, Marcus, and the rest of the characters of this emerging world.

  Want to see a past character come back in a future book (Brax… of course!), come join the Forgotten Gods Facebook group and let us know: https://www.facebook.com/groups/ForgottenGodsBooks/

  Or drop at the end of a review for this book on Amazon!

  Time to run! The gods are descending!

  Ciao,

  Chris

  PS: Did we mention reviews are amazing, and they really, really help?

  PPS: Did I mention that I’ve gotten better at groveling since I’ve become a writer?

  PPPS: Sign up here for all our news: https://www.subscribepage.com/smokeandsteelnews

  Author Notes LE Barbant

  Written April 16, 2018

  Hello my Forgotten Friends,

  We made it! Lorcan is dead and all’s right with the world.

  Well, not exactly (geeze Delano, calm down). But don’t worry, we’ve got plenty of more books to figure that out.

  Book 4 represents the end of a particular writing strategy for team ST Branton and the start of a new one.

  When Chris and I started working on Forgotten Gods, we had a vision for a world filled with magic and monsters and gods. But we were afraid that our characters would get lost amidst the noisy fun of worldbuilding. So we decided to take this series in two steps.

  Step 1: take it slow and really focus in on our main character.

  Step 2: Everything goes sideways.

  I think we’ve done pretty well on step 1 (if you agree, you could always go let us know on Amazon). By now, we all know Vic pretty well. We know her history. We know what she’s capable of. And we know where she draws the line. To keep this focus on her, we figured it would be best to change the world slowly. The gods operated in darkness. We’d introduce one god per book and only add in a couple new elements at a time. It meant that most of the world wouldn’t feel different and that Vic’s circle of allies would have to remain small.

  But all that is over now. The darkness is dead, time to bring the gods into the light.

  You know what they say, when one door closes, another opens. Unfortunately for Vic, that might just be a door to hell.

  So anyway, thank you so much for sticking with us through these books. I’ve had a blast working on them, and I can’t wait to show you what’s coming down the pike in Step 2.

  For Kronin!

  Lee

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  The Rise of Magic

  * With Michael Anderle *

  Restriction (01)

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  FORGOTTEN GODS

  Forgotten Gods (01)

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  Hounded by the Gods (03)

  God in the Darkness (04)

  Connect with CM Raymond and LE Barbant

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