War of Gods Box Set

by Ford, Lizzy

  Dusty fell, and the mist swallowed Jonny. Darian shouted, staggering beneath the weight of his magic. Bianca screamed. She crawled and clawed her way to Dusty, looking wildly for her brother. She collapsed on top of the still assassin, her healing powers flowing unabated.

  “Bianca!” The Grey God snatched her in one arm and Dusty in the other. The slow motion world around them snapped into real time, throwing them against a wall. Explosions ripped the ground from beneath them and blinded her.

  Familiar coldness and silence washed over her before the quiet was replaced by the storm’s furious bellow. Darian staggered, dropped her, and landed hard on his backside. She looked around, disoriented. Her ears still rung from the explosions lighting up the sky.

  “Jimmy’s … real good … at that,” Darian managed, gasping.

  “Jonny,” she whispered. “Where’s Jonny?”

  “He’s okay.”

  “He escaped?” she rasped. She twisted to see the Grey God, whose ashen face and dulled eyes were trained on the still body beside her.

  “Sorta,” Darian said.

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s okay, I promise. Can you fix him?”

  She looked at Dusty’s still body, feeling overjoyed and fearful. With effort, she rolled him onto his back. He was alive and unconscious. His body drank what healing she had to give. She brushed water from his face and traced a finger along his jaw.

  “Damian’s gonna be so pissed,” Darian said to no one in particular.

  “Dustin!” The familiar voice was carried on the wind. She squinted towards the blazing buildings to see a dark figure half-trotting, half-limping towards them. Jenn reached them and bent at the waist, gasping. “Don’t even try … to help,” she griped at Darian.

  “I didn’t know you were here,” he said with some chagrin.

  “That little shit Jonny made me bring him then knocked me out. Where is he? He needs an ass beating!”

  “He’s okay.”

  “Whatever happened drained all my power,” Jenn said. “You?”

  “Kinda used up all my resources and then stole everyone else’s. Figured everything would turn out okay,” Darian said with a weak shrug. “Looks like I was right.”

  “You’re a shithead! Didn’t stop to think we might be in the middle of helping when you sucked us dry? Gods, I don’t know what might’ve happened if I’d been in mid-Travel or some shit! Not to sound like Dusty, but you gotta learn some self-control! Who knows what the f—” Darian grumbled as Jenn berated him.

  Bianca listened, numb. Her hands rested on Dusty while her gaze remained on the burning clubhouse. She waited for Jonny, her gut twisting in fear.

  “Trinka,” he said, kneeling in front of his little sister.

  “Hi Dusty,” she murmured. She flung her arms around him, the sweet smell of innocence and softness of her body making him melt.

  Gods how he missed her!

  “I brought you something,” she said, holding up her tiny, balled-up fist.

  He held out his hand, and she deposited a small trinket in it. He recognized one of the orbs she’d played with. The orbs resembled marbles with colorful lights that danced. He’d given her more than one as a child.

  “It’s so you don’t forget me.”

  “I’ve never forgotten you, Trinka.”

  “Yes, you did, Dusty!” she said in as stern of a voice as a ten-year-old could muster.

  “You brought me here to lecture me, little one?” he asked with gentle gruffness.

  “You died, Dusty. I just wanted to say hi before you left. I miss you.” At the mournful note in her voice, he hugged her tightly.

  “I miss you,” he whispered.

  “I want you to be happy.”

  “Very hard when I’m there and you’re here,” he said with forced lightness.

  “I’m there, too! I’m always there!” she said stubbornly. “And you’re not happy. But now you will be.”

  He hadn’t thought himself unhappy; he’d never thought about it at all. He was content with his life, and yet, at her words, he remembered what it was like when he truly was happy. Long ago, before her death, when he’d had a family. If he let himself, he’d feel that again with Bianca.

  “You have to go,” Trinka said with some sadness. “You have my plaything. Now you won’t forget me!”

  He squeezed it, not wanting to let her go.

  His first vision was that of Bianca’s wet, pale face with dark curls stuck to her cheeks. He felt completely depleted of his power, the sense of being fully human again returning. He’d felt similar when the Black God’s powers crept through him, stripping his demigod powers in preparation to give him something more.

  Jonny. Trinka. Dusty’s memories righted themselves. He sat, surprising Bianca, who wrapped her arms around him. He almost dropped the orb in his hand.

  “I thought I lost you!”

  “Poor excuse for not following my rules,” he grumbled.

  Darian looked like shit, a stone wall propping him up, and Jenn was hurt and pissed. The woman in Dusty’s arms shook from cold and fear. He gazed at the distant blaze, the scent of burning vamps carried on a wind along with the rain.

  He looked at his watch, satisfied to see it was past dawn despite the storm-blackened sky. Bianca’s cool magic ran through his body, repairing all but his exhaustion. He held her, never imagining anything could feel so right despite the rain and cold. Carefully, he shifted her and placed Trinka’s orb in his pocket.

  “Uh oh,” Darian whispered.

  He felt the Black God’s presence and released Bianca. He stood. A tall form stood halfway between the fire and them, flanked by two vamps.

  “Jonny!” Bianca cried, seeing the man as well. “I didn’t lose either of you!”

  Dusty caught her arm as she launched forward. She looked up, eyes bright. He looked at Darian, who frowned. Dusty took her hand, his other pulling his remaining knife free. They moved towards the three. Jonny looked healthy and rested, his dark eyes swirling, his clothing dry and neat despite the storm. He motioned the vamps away.

  Dusty stopped a safe distance from the Black God, sensing Bianca’s confusion. Jonny held out a hand, and Dusty reluctantly let her go. She closed the distance between them and hugged her brother.

  “You’re him, aren’t you?” she whispered.

  “I wronged you and had to make it right.” Jonny’s voice was coldly monotonous but soft. He smoothed her hair from her face with a gloved hand.

  “I forgive you, Jonny. I’ll always love you. Will you still come to Papa’s grave tomorrow evening?”

  “I will,” Jonny said then looked to Dusty. “Tell your king I will abide by the divine code, but that I have a duty to perform. You will take care of my sister.”

  Dusty gave a nod of agreement. The Black God released his sister. She stepped away from him. Jonny turned and walked away, disappearing after a few steps. Exhausted, Dusty took a silent Bianca’s hand and led her back to the others.

  An odd ringing sound punctuated the rumbling storm. Surprised, Dusty turned to see Darian pull his cell from a pocket. By the Grey God’s cringe, it could only be one person. He held out his hand, and the Grey God tossed it to him.

  “Damian!” Dusty greeted the White God.

  “So … what’s up?”

  Dusty smiled, then chuckled, relieved.

  “Jule and I were Traveling back. Kinda felt like our power short-circuited. Dropped me in … not sure where, but Jule thinks he’s in Ireland. My batteries are low—think I can Travel in an hour or so. Jule’s shit outta luck,” Damian continued with forced calmness. “The fucking Watcher just popped in with a furious Sofi who refuses to talk to me. What did Darian do this time?”

  “I’ll tell you everything when you get here.”

  “That bad?”

  “I missed you. What does that say?” Dusty asked.

  Damian snorted. The phone beeped, and Dusty glanced at it, not surprised to see his other brother and
Damian’s commander of the eastern hemisphere, Jule, on the other line.

  “See you in a few. D out,” the White God said.

  Dusty waited to hear Jule’s voice, never imagining how happy he would be to hear from either of his brothers again.

  “There’s a man on the corner with a sign saying the world is going to end, but the sign’s dated last year,” Jule said. “Any idea what that means?”

  “It’s time for a vacation,” Dusty replied.

  “Good call. Looks like I’m on an involuntary one myself,” Jule said with a warm chuckle. “Say hi to Darian. Tell him I got a new tattoo. Oh, and I look forward to kicking his ass.”

  “Will do. Safe travels. Watch out for the Watchers. They’ve been busy lately.”

  “Little bastards are like cockroaches,” Jule growled. “Chat later.”

  Dusty pocketed the phone. His brothers weren’t any closer than they had been, but the sound of their voices made him realize how alone he’d really felt the past two weeks. And how fortunate he was to have people who cared for him. His eyes found Bianca, who stood shivering in the rain, staring towards the fire, as if waiting for Jonny to reappear.

  “Jenn, looks like we need a ride. And communications to Ohio. I need to know if the infected town is still under lockdown. Looks like Darian took out everyone’s power but Damian’s.”

  “I’m on it,” the pissed Guardian replied and tugged a phone free. “If I wanted to be a fucking mortal, I would be!”

  “I think I can Travel,” Darian said as he pushed himself up.

  Dusty looked at Bianca, not wanting to send her away before talking to her. His gaze caught the movement of a few vamps that had escaped gathering around the edges of the fire.

  “Take Bianca home then come back for us,” he said.

  Bianca didn’t respond to his words. Darian moved sluggishly towards the shivering woman. Dusty watched her until they disappeared. Jenn met his gaze, and he looked again towards the fire.

  “I think you need to be somewhere else,” she said. “Why don’t you let me take care of Ohio?”

  He clenched his jaw, torn between his heart and his duty. He reached into his pocket to wrap his hand around the orb.

  “I am capable, you know,” Jenn said and crossed her arms.

  “I’ve never walked away from a battle,” he said with some difficulty.

  “You have a reason to now.”

  He said nothing, one hand going to the chest wound Bianca had healed.

  She hoped Dusty’s direction wasn’t as farewell-ish as it sounded. When she opened her eyes, she was distraught to see the cozy living room of her father’s apartment. It was where she belonged, now that she’d helped those that needed it and lost her brother. She felt crushed.

  “Maybe tomorrow … would you … you know,” Darian said.

  “Peanut butter?”

  He nodded, concerned gaze on her face.

  “Sure,” she said, forcing a smile. “And maybe you can bring Sunny back, too.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thanks, Darian.”

  He waited. When she moved woodenly towards her bedroom, he disappeared. She paused in the hallway to gaze at a picture of Jonny and her from the previous summer. He’d been wearing his vampire gear and refused to smile, but she’d wrapped her arms around him and beamed. Even then his gaze was haunted, as if he somehow knew his fate.

  She shivered and shrugged the sense away. He was alive, after all, and there was some good to him for wanting to make things right. She’d lost her father and her brother. She’d hoped not to lose the man she loved as well.

  “Peanut butter,” Darian hissed.

  She turned in time to see Dusty glare hard at the Grey God, who took the hint and left. Dusty was bloodied and drenched, his clothing torn from his battle with Talon. He remained every bit the noble Greek prince with his commanding blue gaze and chiseled features.

  “Shouldn’t you be saving people in Ohio or something?” she asked, crossing her arms.

  “I am where I belong,” he said with his unflappable confidence.

  Any resistance she might have mustered melted at his words. She flung herself into his arms, gratified when he squeezed her hard.

  “I owe you one for bringing me back from the dead,” he whispered into her hair.

  “Yes, you do!” she replied in a small voice.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t spare you or Jonny from all this shit, Bianca.” His words made her heart somersault. “Rule number five: you are mine for all eternity.”

  “You’re the most unromantic man I’ve ever known,” she said, a laugh bubbling free. “I’ll agree, if I won’t be second rung to your duty or other women.”

  “Where did those come from?” he asked.

  “I’ve had bad luck with men.”

  “Gods. No, woman, you won’t be second rung.”

  “Okay, then, I have some rules for you,” she continued. He eyed her. “Rule one: I get to decorate your apartment next time. Rule two: Sunny is coming with us. Rule three: you will eat three square meals a day and sleep every night with me, because you couldn’t take care of yourself if you tried. Rule four: I want to try to help turn vamps into humans again.”

  He snorted.

  “Rule five: Jonny is still my brother. Tomorrow is the one-year anniversary of our father’s death, and we made a pact a few months ago to go there every year at the same time. I want to go every year, peacefully, without any gunfights or whatever.”

  She stopped and waited.

  “Yes to the first four,” he said. “The last will require some discussion with Damian. He’ll have to talk temporary truces with the Black God.”

  She looked up at him, surprised at his easy agreement.

  “Now, you wanna get outta these wet clothes or not?” he asked.

  She smiled in response, thrilled.

  Damian, the White God, hauled himself out of the ocean onto the beach. He’d managed to miss the hurricane, though the waters were still rough and the waves high. He flung water from himself, furious to have his Travel ended prematurely. At least he’d made it near shore after being stranded in Iceland for the night to regain his power. He glared at the ocean and strode up the beach littered with wood, boats, and cars, to the highway.

  His phone was destroyed and his power drained. He couldn’t Travel yet, or even use his telepathy to order someone to come get him, so he jogged along the highway towards the heart of Miami, fuming in the early morning fog. He could sense his mate and used her gentle pull to guide him. He’d been jogging for an hour when a black Tahoe pulled up alongside him. The window rolled down, and his chief assassin glared at him.

  “Now you show up,” Dusty said icily.

  Damian smiled wide and opened the door, sliding into the passenger seat. His assassin’s gaze was bright and his face healthy, a pleasant surprise. Damian suspected what kind of hell Dusty had been through and was pleased to see his trusted friend looking good.

  “You know what I’ve been doing for the past few months?” Dusty went on.

  “Yeah,” Damian replied.

  “You can’t possibly!”

  “Let’s see, a new Black God, Darian’s madness, running the world. I think the worst is you’ve been whipped by a woman,” Damian ticked off. He watched Dusty, whose grip tightened on the wheel as he muttered curses. “I leave for a few days and you blow up Florida. I miss anything?”

  “Sofi’s pregnant.”

  Damian stared at him.

  “Damn that felt good! You always beat me to every punch, D, and for once, I nailed you!” Dusty exclaimed. “You realize I can’t get salt water out of this leather? It’ll smell like a whale died in here now, and I’ve only got three more Tahoes that survived the hurricane.”

  “Why didn’t she tell me?” Damian growled. “Why did she tell you first?”

  “Maybe because you dumped her and Darian off on me and disappeared? You ever think of that, D? You’ve always been bad with woman.�
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  “Not sure how, when you’ve been nagging me for thousands of years.”

  “You’re a shitty god.” Dusty struggled not to smile then released it with a chuckle.

  Damian laughed, thrilled to be back with his adopted brother and to see the glow in his face. Dusty, his heartless assassin, had found his mate.

  His heart rejoiced at the thought of his own mate carrying his child, but he couldn’t help but to think of his own upbringing. The path of a White God was not an easy one, and he felt for the child who would grow up with war, pain, and a destiny filled with both.

  “What happened to Jule?” Dusty asked.

  “No idea. Last night he said he was stuck in Ireland. I couldn’t reach him. Things are getting rougher. I’m hoping whatever happened here in Florida didn’t permanently damage our power. The Black God’s vamps haven’t lost theirs,” Damian said. “Darian tell you to come get me?”

  “Sofi did. She’s discovered quite a few annoying little powers of her own while you were gone.”

  Damian smiled, pleased. He’d known how powerful his little Oracle could be. If he had anything to do with it, he wouldn’t let her leave his side again. And he was going to be a father. His smile turned to another chuckle. As dark as the war was quickly becoming, he had hope in his adopted brothers, his little Oracle, and his child.

  A team of Guardians lined one road on the small country cemetery while a team of vamps lined the opposite road. Two figures stood between the two lines in front of a headstone.

  “Your brother-in-law’s the Black God,” Damian said with a snort.

  Dusty glanced up at the sky, where the clouds had gone from black to slate. The rain had stopped, and the landscape around the graveyard was dotted with reflective pools. He met the White God’s golden gaze. Damian’s silver-white hair was braided down his back, his thick body causing him to sink two inches into the mud.

  “Kinda fucked up.”

  “What’s fucked up is the fact none of us can use our power,” Dusty replied. “And Jule’s stuck overseas.”