War of Gods Box Set

by Ford, Lizzy

  “One of their safe houses was hit earlier. Rainy called to say he’d be there for a while cleaning up the mess. I’ve been there twice to check for signs of vamp surveillance.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Sofia murmured. Her phone rang. Jule’s number flashed. Suspecting Ving had made a couple of hurried phone calls, she let the call go to voicemail.

  “This feels weird,” Traci said. “I’m used to one of them following me around like a puppy.”

  “Yeah, I noticed that, too. It feels good to get out, though.”

  She drove fast with Traci’s directions guiding her. As dawn broke, they reached the turn off to the safe house. The destruction was visible long before they reached the low adobe structure hidden between the foothills of the Tucson Mountains. Dead vamps lined the driveway. Several cars were on fire, and black smoke spiraled toward the sky. Deep holes in the ground, rimmed with black, pockmarked the shallow valley. A dozen vehicles were parked near the structure, itself the size of a small warehouse. At least one of Damian’s Guardians lay slain among the scores of vamps.

  The adobe structure was guarded by several more Guardians, none of whom looked like Damian from the distance. She stopped the car before reaching them. The death around her disturbed her, and danger hung in the air. She closed her eyes, seeking the familiar home videos. Instead, a faint memory began to play. She saw glimpses of the early morning battle. Opening her eyes, she hesitated and moved away from the car in the direction of the source of the memories.

  “Sofia,” Traci called, fear in her voice.

  Sofia stopped at the edge of the driveway, horrified by the bloodied and broken bodies spread across the expansive area in front of her. It looked like a war zone and smelled like a cesspool. Her chest was tight and her breath short, but she knew there was one way to find out what happened to Damian.

  “Come with me,” she whispered. She grabbed Traci’s hand, and she picked her way through the death until she found the vamp she sought.

  “Sofia!” Dustin’s voice was filled with fury.

  She knelt beside the vamp. While he looked dead, he was alive enough for his memories to reach her. She braced herself and touched him. The night’s battle lit up her thoughts, and what she saw made her gasp.

  Czerno himself had been there for the well-timed ambush. He and his vamps had fought half the night and created the battlefield full of destruction before the dozen Guardians assigned to the safe house were overwhelmed. Damian appeared, a fragmented vision, as if the vamp had been peering through a foggy window. Czerno was already there and with him, a secret weapon, one that made the vamp believe they’d win before he’d been shot down. The vamp before her went down before she saw the outcome of the meeting between Damian and Czerno in the safe house, but she saw what the vamp expected to happen. Damian was meant to be kidnapped, not killed.

  Dustin wrenched her to her feet.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “Dusty,” Jule cautioned, placing a hand on his shoulder. Dustin released her, glowering. There was only one thing that could make such a cold man so upset. Jule leveled a glare on her.

  “Traci?” Rainy’s voice was surprised and furious.

  “You have thirty seconds, sweetheart,” Jule said with a calmness that chilled her to the bone. “Or I’ll give you to Dusty.”

  She didn’t want to know what happened after that. She’d seen the dark side of Dusty in his home videos in the library before she told Damian about Claire.

  “Damian was ambushed. Czerno knew he was coming here and had a small army of vamps. He had a secret weapon, but I don’t know what it was,” she said quickly.

  “Where’d they take him?”

  “He doesn’t know.”

  Jule freed a gun from the small of his back and pointed it at the vamp beside her. She turned her head away, jumping as the shot rang out. Jule met her gaze calmly, and she resisted the urge to run. She didn’t like the reminders that the men around her were capable of such violence.

  “I’ll deal with you later,” he promised.

  Ving pulled up and barely made it out of the car before Rainy grabbed him and slammed him over the hood.

  “Dusty, calm them down,” Jule ordered.

  “Got it,” Dustin said, trotting towards the men.

  “Fan out and find out if any others are alive!” Jule shouted to the men. “You don’t leave my sight, Oracle.”

  She acquiesced, afraid to disagree.

  “I got one!” a shout rang out.

  “I shouldn’t have to tell you to tell me everything,” Jule said, blocking her path with his arm. “There are two people on my list. No one else in this fucked-up universe matters.”

  She looked up, hearing the unspoken threat.

  “I love him, Jule,” she said, admitting the words for the first time.

  He dropped his arm, and she picked her way through the bodies, covering her mouth to keep from vomiting. Lon knelt by a vamp whose chest still moved. She leaned down, bracing herself as she rested a trembling hand on his forehead.

  For Damian.

  “He’s one of the last to arrive,” she said and closed her eyes. “He came from an underground facility on the other side of Tucson.”

  “Where?” Dustin demanded.

  “He’s not exactly providing an address.”

  “Rainy!” Lon shouted and waved the brooding Guardian over. Still fuming, Rainy joined them.

  “What landmarks did he pass?” Jule prodded. “Street names, anything.”

  The vamp’s memories were fading fast and growing blurry. Sofia sifted through them.

  “The mall. He passed it on his way out of town. Abandoned gas station, new housing development in the foothills. Dirt road, reservation perimeter on the left …” she murmured.

  “Do you recognize it?” Jule turned.

  “I do,” Rainy confirmed. “Keep going.”

  The memories stopped. Sofia withdrew, staring at the dead body in front of her.

  “I take it he’s dead,” Dustin said. “Rainy, get your men. Call in those from the neighboring sectors. We’ll need to hit fast then evac.”

  “You did good, sweetheart,” Jule said. He lifted her to her feet. Her stomach growled. “When was the last time you ate?”

  “Friday,” she said, not waiting to think of what would happen to her if Damian disappeared too long.

  “Dusty, we’re going to have another problem soon,” Jule said for Dustin’s ears only.

  “I’ll be okay,” she said. “I’ve gone two days without serious consequence.”

  Dustin looked at her, then at Jule. They exchanged one of their silent communications.

  “Fuck,” Jule said quietly, realization crossing his features. “Sofia, you said Czerno drained your blood?”

  She nodded.

  “We should’ve seen this coming,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. His gaze went to Dustin. “You think …”

  “Yes,” Dustin said.

  “What?” she asked. “What happened?”

  “You remember what I told you about Oracles offering a weak chink in a commander’s armor?” Jule asked. “What I didn’t say was how you can be used against him. When you’re blood bound, you can’t kill your master, and your master can’t kill you. Czerno has your blood. Chances are he used your blood to incapacitate Damian.”

  She paled.

  “There’s no other way. D couldn’t be overpowered unless his powers were crippled,” Dustin said. “We gotta think this one through, Jule. We’ll have one chance to rip his hideout open and…”

  Sofia watched them walk away, alone and cold. If Damian died, it was because of her. She started toward the road, away from the field of death. Her phone rang. The number wasn’t familiar, but she answered.

  “Hello, love,” Czerno greeted her.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “If you’re as smart as I suspect, you’ve probably used your gift to figure out where I am,�
� he said.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Have you told your friends?”

  “No,” she lied.

  “Good. I’ve got a deal for you. It’s simple, really. Even if I kill Damian, I’ll have to deal with all his people. However, if I have you, I’ll beat them at every turn. If you come to me right now, I’ll let him go.”

  “Swear on your soul?” she asked. Her heart beat so hard, she could barely make out his response.

  “Love, I don’t have a soul. By the time Dusty figures out what to do, Damian will be dead. In fact, if you refuse me now, I’ll kill him before I hang up the phone.”

  She closed her eyes, shaking.

  “If you agree, I’ll free him when you show up at my doorstep.”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’d give you anything for him.”

  “You have an hour.”

  He hung up, and she stared at the cell then looked to her car. The door was open as she left it, the keys in the steering column. Jule and Dustin reached the building, and she looked at them.

  Czerno would never let her go. If she went to him now, she’d spend eternity with him, a slave to the Black God himself. The truth settled into the pit of her stomach, along with the realization that she meant what she’d said—she would do whatever it took to free the man she loved.

  Dustin met her gaze, and he froze.

  “Sofia, no!”

  She bolted to her car, far enough ahead of any of the men that they couldn’t stop her. She flung herself in, slammed the door, and locked them. Peeling out, she floored it and tore down the road. The dead vamp’s memories were fresh in her mind, and she sought the sights he’d passed.

  Her phone rang, and she snatched it.

  “Sofia, turn around. Now,” the calm male’s voice ordered.

  “No, Jule. He’ll kill him if I don’t go.”

  “He’ll kill him if you do.”

  Her tears rose, blurring her vision. She struggled for control, focusing on the road.

  “Sofia,” he said more gently. “Please.”

  “Stop,” she begged. “It’s my fault he was caught. I can fix it. I can fix it!”

  “You can’t fix a war that’s been on for hundreds of thousands of years.”

  “I have to, Jule. I’m sorry. The world needs him,” she said. She hung up the phone, gripped the steering wheel hard and drove.

  She followed the vamp’s fleeting directions. The staging area was where the vamp remembered it being, tucked at the base of a mountain in a draw. Sofia swallowed hard at the sight of so many vamps milling around. She drove up to the elevator entrance on the side of the draw. One vamp in particular seemed to be awaiting her and strode to the car when she rolled to a stop.

  He waved her to exit, and she did so, her hands shaking as she opened the door. The other vamps didn’t so much as acknowledge her as she stepped from the car. Her greeter motioned her to follow, and she obeyed, her mind on Damian and nothing else. He led her into a small, grey elevator that plunged quickly to the depths beneath the mountain.

  The underground world was well built and bright with whitewashed walls lining corridors wide enough for two people to walk side by side. Her apprehension grew as the vamp led her down a maze of hallways through scores of other vamps and past multiple doorways. He reached a set of double doors. He opened one, and she entered. The study beyond was a replica of the one in Virginia, down to the Gothic hood on the fireplace.

  Damian was nowhere to be seen. Czerno rose from a desk as she entered. The large man in black with lopsided shoulders and an executioner’s hood pressed himself into a corner. The man with verdant eyes stood beside him, watching her. The Black God approached her, and she stepped back.

  “I did what you asked. You said you’d free him,” she said.

  At Czerno’s chilled smile, she knew he had no intention of freeing either of them. Panic swelled within her.

  “Welcome home, love,” he said.

  She whirled, but the vamp that had led her into the underground lair blocked the doorway. She sucked in a breath, struggling to calm herself.

  “Czerno, free him! You have me!”

  “I’d rather kill two birds with one stone,” he said. “Two, take her.”

  “No!” she breathed. “Please no! I’ll do whatever you want! Please, just let him go.”

  “We’ll talk later, love,” Czerno assured her. “You’ll have all the time in the world to beg me, on your knees and on your back.”

  His gaze swept over her in cold admiration as he spoke. The executioner from the corner emerged from the shadows and took her arms.

  “Let him go! Please!” she shouted as he pulled her from the room.

  Hysteria gripped her, and she fought him until he slung her over his shoulder. Tears blinded her.

  “Damian!”

  Sofia. His voice was weak, as if he were far away. She strained against the man again.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she sobbed.

  The man in the executioner uniform dumped her onto a familiar surgical table in a room that stank of blood.

  She screamed and launched off of it. He slammed the door closed, subduing her hysterical strikes with unexpected gentleness until she lay strapped to the cold table, weeping. When spent, she lay still, willing sleep or death to take her. Neither did. She closed her eyes to the ceiling. Eventually, she ran out of tears and lay spent on the table, mind on Damian.

  Her stomach growled again. She’d starve in a day.

  The shadow named Two emerged from the corner. She’d forgotten his presence, but he peeled off one glove to display a scarred forearm and hand. As she watched, he took a knife and sliced his wrist. She twisted her head away as he dripped the blood over her lips. He snatched her head with his other hand, then held her nose closed as she clamped her mouth shut. When she gasped for air, his blood trickled into her mouth. She started to spit it out but stopped.

  She knew this man.

  Though his blood didn’t ensnare her as Damian’s did, it tasted familiar. She drank, and he lowered his wrist to her lips. His memories flashed as they made contact. He knew nothing beyond the past twenty-four hours. His first memory was of waking up then of everything he’d done for the day.

  He moved away when she ceased drinking, back to the corner. She twisted to stare at him. He was Damian’s size, though by his lopsided shoulders and scars, he’d survived some sort of serious injury. He was lean and wiry compared to Damian’s bulky build.

  “Who are you?” she demanded, sensing she was missing something important.

  He didn’t answer, settling in his corner.

  She lay still, the man in the corner so silent she had to look several times to make sure he was still there. Renewed by the blood, more sobs wracked her body as she thought of Damian and how badly she’d destroyed any plan Dustin or Jule could make.

  “Damian,” she whispered. “Forgive me. I should’ve let you make love to me.”

  Panic and tears soon drained her of energy, and she stared listlessly at the bloodied ceiling until the man in the corner stirred. The door behind her opened, and Czerno stepped in, trailed by the older, silent gentleman with bright green eyes.

  “Still alive,” Czerno observed, walking around her. “Two, let her walk around for an hour every twelve. I don’t want her muscles turning to jelly.”

  Czerno trailed a finger down the side of her face, his chilling smile and the onslaught of visions making her gasp. She glared at him, hate in her gaze. She would never give this man the visions he wanted!

  “I’m blood bound.” She forced the words out. “If you kill Damian, I’ll die.”

  “I’ve got something almost as good as him,” Czerno said, motioning to the man in the corner. “According to my source of information, a blood relative can sustain an Oracle marooned without her master. We’re going to test this. Either you’ll die or you won’t.”

  “I’ll never help you!”

  “I have etern
ity to break you, Sofia. I’m in no rush, though I do have a plan to motivate you. It involves removing your body parts, one at a time. Or maybe peeling your skin off? Maybe fucking you ’til you scream will soften you up a bit. We’ll see what works, won’t we?” He lowered his head to her ear. “I have options. You don’t. Trust me. Everyone breaks.”

  Terror washed over her at his calm, controlled words. She’d seen what he was capable of in his visions. The best she could hope for was eternity on this table, alone, knowing what she’d done to humanity’s defender. She started to cry again.

  Czerno circled her again and ran his hands down her body, stepping away in approval. He left with a satisfied chuckle, trailed by the man with green eyes. The sound of the door closing sounded like the sealing of her fate.

  “Forgive me, Damian,” she whispered again.

  Two freed her a few hours later and let her walk around the room. He stood in front of the door, unmoving as she explored her surroundings. The room was empty aside from the table. There was one vent in the ceiling, not large enough for her hand let alone her body. Despair washed over her, but she forced herself to concentrate.

  Damian wasn’t dead. She felt it. If she could only reach him …

  She faced Two, the only thing between her and escape. He was a puzzle, a man with no memory beyond waking up in the morning. The rest was blocked, as if a dam was placed there. She paced and stared at him.

  … a blood relative can sustain an Oracle.

  She’d heard no such thing, but then again, she didn’t know anything about Oracles aside from what little she’d gleaned from books and testing herself. His theory was so far correct. Her stomach was content, and she hadn’t thrown up. She approached Two hesitantly. He didn’t move as she stopped in front of him. She took his hand. He obliged and removed his glove, rolling his sleeve to his elbow and withdrawing a knife. Though she wasn’t hungry, she drank, exploring the black curtain shielding his memories as she did.

  He pushed his sleeve up farther, revealing the bottom of a thick bicep with a partially visible tattoo. She slid her hand up his arm and nudged the sleeve. The image on his bicep was the same she wore around her neck.