War of Gods Box Set

by Ford, Lizzy

  I’m scared, kiri.

  “Hold on, Darian,” she whispered, tears blurring her vision. “I’m here.”

  He showed her a picture of where he’d taken Damian.

  “Thank you, Darian!” she cried.

  I’m scared, kiri, he said again into her head.

  She felt his fear and squeezed her eyes closed, the man in her arms colliding with the man hiding in the corner of her mind. They became one, and this time, when she reached out to him, he took her hand. She sobbed, absorbing the black visions spilling through his mind. Thousands of years of Czerno’s depravity threatened to consume him. She was his only relief, and the visions threatened to consume her.

  Peace, Oracle.

  She didn’t recognize the voice in her mind and felt the presence of someone—or something—beside her. A hand swept the dark memories from her mind, and she sagged against Darian, feeling the same sense of peace overtake his mind.

  “Master, I did as you said,” Darian said in a choked voice. “I saved kiri.”

  Good boy. Be at peace tonight, both of you. The being left, but the peace remained. Darian began to cry, and she held him tighter.

  The chopper landed. Pierre hopped out and helped her and then Darian. They were at another discreet location, this one nestled between the peaks of two mountains. She darted off the landing pad with him, and the chopper went up again. The men on the small base drew their weapons at the sight of Darian. She took his arm, terrified they’d shoot the lost soul. Pierre led them to the empty, well-lit helicopter hangar, where several men crowded around a still body on the hangar floor. Her heart flipped when she saw him, and she sprinted forward.

  “Damian!”

  He was unconscious and pale. She dropped to his side and fluttered kisses across his face.

  “Jule, what’s wrong with him?” she asked, twisting.

  “Poison,” Darian croaked.

  Jule’s arm shot out to block the interloper’s progress toward them. His mouth dropped open, and disbelief crossed his features. She hopped to her feet and shoved Jule’s arm away, pulling Darian to the ground beside her.

  “Darian, what is it?” she demanded. “Please tell me!”

  He held his head and leaned into her, struggling. She took his face in her hands again, forcing his attention on her.

  “Please, Darian!”

  “Claire’s … blood,” he said at last.

  “Claire … was meant to be his Oracle,” Jule said hoarsely. He knelt beside them, staring at the horribly scarred man. “It’s your blood, Sofia.”

  Horror descended upon her as she realized the depth of Claire’s betrayal. Darian crouched beside his brother, studying him while emotions flew across his features. He placed his hands on Damian’s face. Damian’s body bucked. Darian moved away. Damian rolled onto his side and puked blood into the sand.

  Sofia touched him, heart rejoicing. Dazed, Damian sat up.

  “Kiri is safe,” Darian said in a monotone voice.

  Damian’s head whipped around. The two brothers stared at each other, and she choked back a sob, joy and horror flying through her.

  “Everyone out.” Damian’s voice was soft, but his command made everyone in the hangar jump. Jule pulled her to her feet and half-carried her out. He gripped her arms and turned her to face him. His gaze was unusually intense as he struggled to control his emotions. Jule embraced her, hugging her hard. She clung to him, overwhelmed.

  “Here I thought I’d lost two people I cared about only to recover three,” he said, hoarse. “If you weren’t D’s, I’d kiss you.”

  “Jule! We need to go!” Pierre’s voice urged.

  “All hell is about to start raining down,” Jule said, pulling away from her. “Go with Pierre. Rainy wants to chew your ass out for dragging Traci into this, and then I’ll chew your ass out for being so fucking stupid.”

  He wiped the tears from her face and kissed her forehead.

  “Go,” he said, pushing her toward her awaiting bodyguard.

  “Bring them both back to me, Jule,” she whispered. He gave a brisk nod.

  “Sofia!” a female voice cried. Sofia turned, surprised to Traci racing toward her from across the helipad. Traci flung her arms around her, her fear fresh on her face. Sofia hugged her back.

  “Two women,” Pierre muttered.

  “Pierre, get ‘em outta here,” Jule said with a toss of his head in their direction.

  “Gladly. Come with me, ladies.” Pierre gripped each of their arms and led them toward two black Tahoes. Sofia twisted to see the helo-hangar one last time, not yet able to believe the night’s events.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Damian’s brother was somewhere inside the scarred shell of a man before him. He stared into Darian’s gold eyes, seeking some sign of the man he’d known. Darian struggled visibly, his gaze stormy and his frame shaking. Damian’s own head was fuzzy from the effects of the drink he’d been force fed. He had a throbbing headache, and his body didn’t respond the way it should.

  “Do you know me, brother?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

  “Damian,” came the mechanical voice. “Kiri loves you.”

  Damian couldn’t help his smile at the words. Darian knew him because of Sofia. He reached out to his brother, absorbing what memories were in his mind. Darian’s mind was like a disaster scene after a hurricane. The bits and pieces of who he was were there, disjointed and scattered. Two people were all he knew with certainty: Sofia and the Watcher with his forest green eyes. His brother wasn’t sure of anything or anyone else, even if he did match the faces in his thoughts with those around him.

  “Be gentle. He’ll break if you push him,” the Watcher said.

  Damian twisted, surprised to find his body stiff with the simple movement. He was too out of sorts to feel the Watcher’s arrival.

  “Master,” Darian said, bowing his head.

  The sight of someone once so powerful and proud in submission to anyone infuriated him. For the first time in his life, Damian was speechless when confronted with the horror before him.

  “He’s been abused for thousands of years,” the Watcher said, pausing beside the still, scarred man and resting a hand on his head. “He’ll need your help.”

  “Like I wouldn’t help him,” he snapped. He looked to his brother again, fury of the deepest kind running within him. He loved Darian, always would, but understanding what he’d been through for thousands of years made him wish his brother had died instead of being forced to bear such pain.

  “I can only coach,” the Watcher reminded him. “Your Oracle and Darian had to do the real work. If she’d been any less of an Oracle than what she is …” Darian would have spent the remainder of his life in the hell that’d claimed him. Damian’s throat tightened at the unspoken words.

  “Claire did this to him.”

  “Yes, she did,” the Watcher said. “After the attack, Czerno brought Darian back to life. He wasn’t part of the plan to kill him, but he found out from Claire when they met shortly before Darian’s death. He understood that the Black God can never truly kill the White God for fear of unleashing the Original Beings, who would crush him. He was there to save your brother when Isac finished and kept him under control using Claire’s blood. I think he’s since been sickened with evil and forgotten if you don’t exist, neither does he.”

  “My own enemy saved him,” Damian said with a harsh laugh. “Our world is so fucked up.”

  “Yes, ikir, it is,” the Watcher agreed.

  The depth of Claire’s betrayal made him wish he could kill her again a thousand times over! He’d been too kind in his execution of the sick bitch!

  “Kiri,” Darian said almost sadly and looked around as if lost.

  Damian’s spinning emotions warmed at the idea that Sofia saved him. He didn’t want to think about the probability behind such a powerful Oracle appearing when she did. No, he wouldn’t look that gift horse in the mouth, not when the embodiment of her ability sat hunche
d before him.

  “Will he ever be close to the man I knew?” Damian whispered the thought, unable to help the tears that rose with it.

  “There is a legend among the humans of the phoenix, who rises from his own ashes,” the Watcher replied. “Your brother will never be what he was, but he will rise again as the Grey God.”

  He looked to the Watcher, surprised. “Darian is the Grey God?”

  “Yes, ikir. He will be forever stuck between the two worlds, the good and the evil, without entering either or leaving either behind. His will not be an easy role to fill.”

  He reached out to his brother and touched his head to Darian’s forehead. Darian didn’t resist, and Damian delighted in the idea that the sound of him breathing meant his brother was truly alive.

  “Watcher, I love him, and I can’t fathom his pain,” he said. “Will he be lost like this forever?”

  “No. Even in human time, his suffering will be short but it will be very bad for him until it ends,” the Watcher replied.

  “Sofia can help him.”

  “There will be others who will help him, too. He will need them all, and he will need you if he is to take his place as the Grey God. One of your team captains will have friends as well.”

  “Jule is as old as you,” Damian said. “Or older?”

  “Close,” the Watcher admitted. “Jule is still not in favor among my kind. His penance is not yet served.”

  “Good. Leave him here with me.”

  “You’ll not face anyone willing to challenge you for him, ikir, I assure you, though there may be some left who might help him.” The amount of distaste in the Watcher’s voice amused him. Jule had never said what he’d done to piss someone off and get exiled to earth, but it must have been bad if the Watcher’s kind clipped his powers and sent him packing. “By your leave, ikir,” the Watcher said with a bow of his head.

  Damian waved him away, his attention returning to Darian. He touched his brother’s face, his emotions soaring once again.

  Darian was alive. Sofia was safe. In that moment, nothing else mattered to him. He released a deep breath and rose, aware the birth of a new god and discovery of a powerful Oracle indicated nothing but more trouble to come.

  “Come, brother, let’s take you back to kiri,” he said.

  Darian stood obediently, and Damian’s throat tightened again to know his brother was at his side.

  Sofia watched the last of the blood swirl down the drain. She leaned her head against the shower wall, exhausted. Damian’s heavy ring hung off a chain around her neck, and she clenched it. The drive from the mountains to the safe house had seemed to take forever. She was alone with her thoughts the entire way despite the presence of Pierre and Traci.

  “You okay?” Traci called, voice muffled by the bathroom door.

  “Yeah.” Sofia turned off the shower and dried herself before opening the door between the small bathroom and the bedroom. Traci sat on an unmade bed belonging to one of the Tucson Sector members, and Sofia eyed her Guardian. “Pierre, can I get some privacy?”

  “Nope,” he said from his position on a chair inside the door. “You’re both grounded.”

  Traci handed her a small pile of her clothing. Doubtful the model’s clothes would fit, Sofia moved deeper into the bathroom to dress in jeans too long for her petite frame and a t-shirt too snug to be comfortable.

  “When will you know if the house is safe?” she called.

  “Soon,” was his vague response. “They have to finish their clean-up.”

  “Did they find Czerno?”

  “They won’t. He goes poof and returns to one of his other bases, leaving everyone else to fry.”

  Sofia shivered, unable to help the trickle of fear and pure hatred for the sick creature who tortured Darian.

  “Did you really shoot her?” Traci asked.

  “Not on purpose,” Pierre grated.

  “That’s kind of an extreme form of revenge for asking you about croissants.”

  Pierre mumbled a few curses. Sofia wiped the fog away from the mirror. Her bruises were gone, and her two-toned eyes were calmer than they’d been. She hadn’t felt like she belonged in this world until she’d seen what good she could do. The death visions, the distrust everyone on the planet had for a soul-reader, the inability to eat … they were nothing compared to helping a man find his soul again. While she didn’t yet understand the depths of her new world, she found peace in knowing this was indeed her world, too.

  “Pierre, I want to go home!” she complained.

  “Okay.”

  “Really?” She poked her head out of the bathroom. He lowered his phone.

  “All clear. You are coming with us, mademoiselle,” he said to Traci.

  Traci sprang up and snatched her purse. Pierre grimaced and rose more slowly. Sofia slipped on oversized flip-flops Traci dug out of one of the closets. Pierre’s phone dinged, and he opened it again.

  “There are a few missions going on, but they said the house is clear,” he said. “Linda is there. Looks like we’ll have to evac and rebuild the Tucson Sector. Czerno knows where all our safe houses are.”

  Sofia only half-listened as she led them down the stairs, anxious to get back to Damian and the place that had become her home. Grande and Lon awaited them in the living room, and they rose as she approached. Two armored Tahoes sat out front with an additional two more well-armed Guardians. They all piled into the SUVs.

  “If I weren’t so scared, this would be neat,” Traci whispered to her. “Armored cars, bodyguards … like we’re famous or something.”

  “It is kinda neat,” Sofia agreed. “Until your bodyguard shoots you.”

  “If you keep mentioning it, it won’t be an accident next time,” Pierre retorted, shooting her a look in the rearview mirror. She smiled, and Traci covered her mouth to keep him from hearing her laugh.

  “Pierre,” Sofia said with a serious note. He glanced at her. “Thank you for taking care of me. You’re a good man. I hope you stay my bodyguard.”

  “You’re welcome.” Though still arch, his tone had softened enough to show her he wasn’t unaffected by her genuine words.

  He drove them through back roads and alleys to ensure no one followed before taking the highway and exiting into a direction that appeared to be nothing but desert. The mansion was invisible until they crossed the boundary of Damian’s magic, when it appeared out of nowhere: an expanse of green grass, trees, and the stone building in the middle of the desert. Pierre dropped them off in front, waiting until they stepped across the entrance before driving off. The compound hummed with activity, from the gardens that served as a helipad to the teeming barracks and Guardians pacing the halIs. She was reminded of a scene from a movie, where an army mobilized for war. They remained in the foyer, uneasy with the amount of activity and weapons, until approached.

  “Linda’s asleep already. Go on up and rest. We’ve got to start moving everything within twenty-four hours,” Lon told them, slinging a machine gun over his shoulder.

  “Traci,” Rainy appeared from down another hallway, holding out his hand. She went to him, ducking out of the paths of a few Guardians.

  In the midst of the activity in the mansion, Sofia saw Dustin. He settled one of his cool looks on her and tossed his head toward the stairs. He didn’t look to be in a mood for questions, so she hurried past him to her room, Pierre trailing. She closed the door, surprised at how quiet her room was.

  She was about to lie down when she sensed Damian walk by. Her heart soared, and she touched the ring at her neck. She hesitated, sensing he would be angrier with her than Jule or Dustin had been. Or both combined. Steeling herself, she passed Pierre at her door and knocked on Damian’s door.

  Not in the mood, Sofia.

  She opened the door, heart pounding. He was framed against the balcony once again, and she leaned against the door before venturing forward. Despite the cool fear spiraling through her, she couldn’t help but feel thrilled at the sight of h
im after she thought she’d lost him.

  “If you ever, ever, do anything like that again …” He didn’t have to finish the threat. His tone was enough to tell her he’d show no mercy. He was too angry to face her, and she was glad of it. She hugged herself, wanting to throw her arms around him but knowing he was in as an approachable of a mood as Dustin.

  “I brought this back,” she said and pulled off the chain, placing the ring on the table nearest the door. “I wanted to apologize to you, Damian,” she continued. “When I was in that room …”

  His grip on the railing tightened, and she stopped, afraid of pushing him through the brittle façade containing his emotions. After a thick moment of silence, she forced herself to continue.

  “I swore to myself I’d do this,” she said. “Damian, I love you. If you don’t hate me for what I did, if you still … want me … I’m yours.”

  He said nothing, didn’t move. A knock sounded at his door. She took the opportunity to escape, darting by Dustin to her room.

  She’d said her piece. She didn’t know if she’d hurt him enough to drive him away forever or if there was a sliver of him that still wanted her. Tortured by the thought she might have waited too long to realize what she had, she paced her room until too tired to stand.

  Just when he’d thought Sofia couldn’t surprise him more, she did. The insanity of what she did was beyond his comprehension. While he loved the thought of her commitment to him, her action made him want to explode. And then to waltz in and deliver such an important message at a time when he wanted nothing more than to remain infuriated with her for her actions ...

  “Fucking women,” he muttered.

  “That fucking woman saved your brother’s life,” Dusty reminded him.

  He hadn’t yet reconciled how he felt about seeing his brother alive and in so much pain. He was more and more appalled by the memories afflicting his brother, what he’d gone through since his supposed death. Darian was showing more signs of life. He’d spent the morning vomiting blood and was able to remember Jule and Dusty by afternoon.