War of Gods Box Set

by Ford, Lizzy

  Darian debated how to find Jenn before he risked talking to her mentally. As a mind manipulator, she’d have more sensitive mental receptors. He shouldn’t draw attention using magic this close to the Black God’s hideout.

  Go for a walk, he told her. Darian waited. A few minutes later, she emerged from the hideout. West 100 meters.

  He rose as she approached. Jenn’s dark hair was hidden under a knit cap, her lithe frame moving with a cat’s grace through the snow and boulders. Large, dark eyes were wary and guarded, and she was openly armed. When she saw him, she put her knife away but didn’t lose the wariness. There was something else in her gaze and the firm set of her jaw that bothered him.

  “What is it?” he asked when she was close enough.

  “Nothing,” she replied with a tight smile. “A lot going on. How are you doing? Is everything back home okay?”

  “We’re all good. I’m on my way to find a new place.”

  “What happened? Did ikir kick you out?” she demanded.

  “No,” Darian chuckled. “I’m not a lost boy anymore. I can take care of myself.”

  She studied him closely, as if looking for signs of the man he’d been the last time she saw him. Or looking for something else. Darian had never felt threatened around her, even with his desire to find some reason to write her off as another Claire. This time, her intense gaze made him uncomfortable.

  “What is it?” he asked again.

  “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Damian sent me.”

  “At ikira Sofi’s suggestion?” Jenn asked, crossing her arms.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Jenn, what’s wrong?”

  “Really, it’s nothing,” she said with a sigh. “I’m a little rattled.” Her glance towards the mountain mansion told him things were not going well.

  “I can pull you out at any time,” he said.

  “Damian’s agreement was—”

  “Believe it or not, I’m a god, too, and I don’t need Damian’s permission or help to rescue a Guardian in need.” His words came out harsher than he intended.

  Jenn’s troubled gaze flickered up to him again. She didn’t seem convinced of his words or happy to see him. He suspected she was in more trouble than she let on, and it irritated him that she didn’t trust him enough to tell him. She shifted away from him. Darian wasn’t sure what to make of her reaction. They’d been friends since soon after Sofi found him, and Jenn had never acted this way around him before.

  “Are you being treated well?” he asked.

  “I’m still standing.”

  “You’re worried about something.”

  “Being surrounded by vamps all day makes you jumpy.”

  “Jenn—”

  “I’m fine. Really. This isn’t a safe place for you to be, Darian. If I need something, I’ll send a message, okay?”

  Her verbal slap stunned him. The words were purred in her husky voice yet felt as if they’d been shouted. Jenn offered another half-assed smile then turned and walked away. Darian watched her, startled by her abruptness. He hadn’t seen her since they sparred last, when Damian interrupted and swept her away to loan her to the Black God for a month. They’d been joking and sparring and having a good time.

  Now this. Jenn wanted nothing to do with him. But it was more than that. Something was off here, and it wasn’t just Jenn. Darian looked around him, irritated at her rejection but also aware she’d never treat any Guardian like that without a reason.

  Jenn didn’t look back but strode straight to the mansion and inside. Darian remained for another long moment before Traveling to the nearest town, determined to figure out what was going on.

  Jenn closed the door firmly and drew a deep breath before facing her awaiting surveillance team. The three vamps were spread out around the foyer and trailed her like bloodsucking puppies as she moved down the hallway. Those vamps she passed hissed at her. There was one place in the mega-mansion where she found peace: the gym. Most of the vamps were late to wake in the mornings, the effect of their nocturnal lifestyle.

  The women’s locker room was empty. Jenn entered and went to her locker. She opened it and muttered a curse. One of the vamps had left her another deer head at the bottom. They were passive aggressive with her, hazing her when the Black God and Xander weren’t around. There was a note affixed to the deer head, and she suspected it said the same thing as the other notes on animal heads she’d found around the house. You’re next, Guardian.

  At least there’s no blood on my clothes, she told herself. She changed, left her folded clothing on the bench outside the locker, and slammed the locker closed. The backpack she kept with her as she exited the locker room into the gym area. It held all the weapons she could cram in there. She’d learned the hard way what happened if she left her weapons in her room. They had a habit of disappearing.

  Her surveillance team had set up already. With them was a fourth vamp, one she wanted desperately not to see. Xander, the Original Vamp, stood over seven feet tall and was built like a boulder with dark hair and the glowing, red eyes characteristic of vamps. One of five Original Beings, he’d landed on earth when the Originals escaped from their immortal exile. He’d been a thorn in her side ever since.

  “Guardian,” he said, lifting his chin in greeting. He was waiting for her in the boxing ring.

  “Puppet master,” she replied.

  “Leave us.” This order was to the surveillance team. They obeyed faster than they ever would a command from the Black God, who still struggled to control his vamps.

  Jenn ignored him and went to the punching bag she’d adopted as hers. Xander was in the gym whenever she was, no matter what time of day or night she went.

  “Not in the mood, I see,” Xander said.

  “Just warming up. I’m gonna do it this time,” she told him with a grunt as she unleashed a kick-punch-kick combo into the bag.

  “Beat me?”

  “Yep.”

  “It’s good to have delusions.”

  “We call it optimism. If I could get rid of every single one of your kind, I would.”

  “You’d have nothing to do if we weren’t around to kill,” mused the bored predator.

  “I can live with that,” she replied and straightened. “I’m not here to entertain you, Xander.”

  “Why else do you think I gave you back your power? Should make what comes more interesting.”

  “I’m ready.” Her blood was moving and her head clear. No part of her believed he’d let her live if he didn’t have a reason to keep her around. He unceremoniously offered to return her Guardian power to her a week before in exchange for blood, part of a plan only he understood. The bites in her arm still hurt. Until that time came when their sparring became a final battle, she’d learn as much as she could from the ancient warrior.

  Jenn joined Xander in the ring. She was dressed in clothing meant to facilitate her movement, but Xander wore heavy boots and clothing, as if he’d just come from outdoors. If one of his steel-toed boots connected with her head, she’d be dead.

  One day, she would beat him at his own game. In the meantime, she wasn’t about to go down without a fight. She’d figure out his weakness and hold onto that knowledge for when she needed it.

  She struck first, not bothering to soften her blows as she might with anyone else. Xander deflected and attacked. His strikes were hard and fast and seemingly from every direction. She’d learned to stop thinking when in the ring with him and listen to her senses, to include the mind control talent. Anything that would indicate where his next strike would fall.

  He and Darian would make for a thrilling match, she noted. Darian was lean as a whip, his body honed to the point where instinct and reaction were one. She’d never battled anyone with Darian’s speed.

  Xander’s elbow smashed into her face. If she hadn’t noticed the blow soon enough, she’d have no teeth. As it was, he busted her lip and left her ears ringing. The vamp withdrew.

  “T
hat was an easy one. You should’ve blocked that five times over,” he chided.

  “Some of us don’t move at the speed of light,” she snapped and wiped the blood away. “C’mon, I’m ready.”

  “You’re head’s not in the game. Someday, you might need these lessons.”

  “You’ve got my attention now.”

  His gaze lingered on her hand, where crimson blood was smeared. He’d never drawn blood before. She wondered how long it’d take before every vamp in the mansion was waiting in the locker room to claim what they could from her. When Xander didn’t look away, she began to suspect she’d found a weak point.

  “What’s wrong, Xander?” she purred. “Whose head isn’t in the game now?”

  “You’d be wise to clean that up.”

  “Oh, you mean this?” she asked with faux innocence. “Just a little blood. I’m fine.”

  “You’re a fool to mess with a creature like me, Guardian.”

  “What’re you gonna do?” Jenn stepped closer to him and held out the bloodied hand. “Nothing? Oh, that’s right. You want me alive.” She dropped her arm. “You wouldn’t let me back out if our roles were reversed.”

  His response was a strike hard enough to jar her to the bone when she blocked it. She filed her discovery as the only known weakness of the vamp. They settled into a battle that left her drenched in sweat before she left the ring and him looking like a cat that just caught a mouse.

  When she retreated to the locker room, her lip was puffy and her body achy already. No vamps awaited her there. She cleaned up the blood first then took a fast enough shower that the water didn’t have time to warm from cold to hot. She’d stopped trying to figure out why Xander tormented her every day. It was more than because he was bored, and she knew very well what he could do if he wanted to. She’d seen him trying to train the Black God a couple of times but never in the ring with any of the vamps.

  Just the lone Guardian whose mission there was as hidden to the boy-god as the Original Being’s.

  When she was cleaned up, she set about doing what she did every morning: rifling through the sparse pantry then searching the mansion for more information. She went to the bedroom without a door that had been hers until she took up her spot sleeping in the foyer. There were two heads on the bed this day: that of a buck and one of a bear. Each had a note.

  Jenn ignored them both. Her surveillance team had yet to follow her to the restroom, and she disappeared inside, locking the door. She stripped out of her vest and hid her bag under the sink. Jenn placed the blade of a knife between her teeth and pried the window of her bathroom open. Cold wind swept through the room.

  She knocked the snow off the ledge. As she did every day, she wriggled out onto it and crept the length of the ledge to the neighboring window. Jonny’s bathroom was four times the size of hers. She pulled the window open and dropped in, glancing around to make sure she was alone. She peeked from his bathroom into the largest bedroom suite in the mansion then stepped into the area serving as a living room and study.

  The Black God’s bedroom door was closed for the first time in a week. Judging by the position of his computer, he’d been on it last night, and the black notebook where he wrote notes to himself about his duties was missing. She’d been trying to get her hands on it since arriving. Damian had assigned her here to help Jonny root out the vamps who were working with Others in the Black God’s ranks.

  More importantly, she had to find out what Jonny’s next step was, once the month-long truce between White and Black Gods was up. Nearly all of the Guardians were without their magic. Vamps would be able to pick them off as easily as they did humans. She needed to know what Jonny planned.

  Jenn started forward then paused with a glance towards the closed bedroom door. She was sensitive to any change in his habits. Even something as small as a closed door made her instincts tingle.

  She crossed to it and pushed it open, her attention falling to the slender blonde slung across Jonny’s bed. The dead woman’s pale skin and hair starkly contrasted with Jonny’s black silk sheets and duvet. Her missing throat left Jenn no doubt what happened. What dismay she felt at Jonny’s first killing a week ago had slid into understanding that the Black God was merely becoming what he was.

  Her Jonny was almost completely gone. Jenn released a deep sigh. She replaced her knife in its sheath and looked around for more bodies. Jonny should know to respect the dead enough to bury or burn those he killed. Maybe the vamps hadn’t taught him that yet.

  Jenn carefully positioned the young woman’s body and rolled her in one of the sheets. She rose and gasped, not sensing the silent Xander, who stood in the doorway to the living room.

  “It’s useless to fight it,” he observed.

  “I don’t give a shit about Jonny. I know he’s a lost cause,” she replied. “This girl deserves better than to be tossed aside like yesterday’s trash.”

  “Good luck digging in the frozen ground,” he said, then added, “And I wasn’t talking about Jonny.”

  “I don’t care, Xander.”

  “I was talking about Darian.”

  She looked up. “What about him?”

  “You can’t fight your fate.”

  “I’ll never, ever, let you use me to get to him, Xander,” she replied. “It’s out of the question. Fate is not predetermined anyway.”

  “No, but some outcomes are more likely than others. If you don’t take the next step down that path, you’ll likely regret the outcome. It won’t be pretty for any of you Guardians.”

  “If you’re not going to help me dig, get the fuck out.”

  When she looked up again, he was gone. She didn’t want to acknowledge there might be truth to anything he said except for one: she couldn’t dig a grave. The chances of the vamps sniffing around like the animals they were and digging the body up were too high. Jenn returned the way she came—through the bathrooms—and retrieved her backpack. She pulled it on then left her room, trailed by her vamps. She pushed Jonny’s door open and retrieved the dead woman’s body, slinging it over her shoulder.

  She marched again into the cold snowstorm and to the maintenance tool shed tucked between boulders and trees. She snagged an axe and went to the forest, trailed by vamps that had drawn closer at the scent of blood.

  As she hacked at a young tree, she thought of Xander’s words. It was impossible that he meant to help the Guardians, yet she’d believed for a moment that’s what he implied. Whatever game Xander played, it wouldn’t benefit the Guardians. She wasn’t about to let him use her to betray any of them, especially Darian, who had gone through too much already.

  Chapter Two

  Darian found a summer cabin beside a lake in a small logging town near the Black God’s hideout. He broke in and checked the electricity, which someone had left on. A quick glance around at the furnished cabin left him satisfied. He left and walked through the snowstorm to the Realtor sign hanging at the end of the long driveway. Plucking it free, he Traveled back to Texas to find the stash of credit cards and identifications Damian kept in the safe in his study. He opened it and rifled through the files.

  “How was Jenn?” His sister-in-law’s voice was soft.

  “So it was you who wanted me to check on her,” Darian said. “Jenn thought it might be.”

  “For an Original Being, Xander has no discretion.”

  At Sofi’s icy voice, Darian turned away from the safe and faced her. She stood in the doorway, silver-blue eyes swirling and arms crossed. Damian’s lifemate was petite, beautiful, and angry.

  “Take it up with him,” Darian said, amused. “Something weird is going on up there. I’m going to stay close.”

  “That’s good.” She still sounded irritated.

  Darian faced the safe to hide his smile and continued searching. Sofi was the only Oracle to be found since the Schism. Her cool energy surrounded him. She was constantly assessing him and had been since she discovered him as a prisoner of the Black God.

&nb
sp; “I’m fine,” he said. “Better than I have been in a very long time.”

  “I sense that.”

  “Then what worries you?”

  “Just the usual.”

  Darian snorted. “I’m fed up with moody women today. Jenn treated me like a shitbag and now you.”

  “I was afraid of that. Dammit, Xander,” Sofi muttered. “You just need to keep close to Jenn. She’s in a great deal of danger.”

  “Like immediate danger?” he asked, facing her again. “I’ll yank her out of there so fast, not even—”

  “You’ll know when.”

  “Damn Oracles.” He snatched the documents he needed and closed the door to the safe. “I planned on sticking close anyway. You’re not about to tell me anything else, are you?”

  “Not yet.”

  “It must be important if you and the Original Being are interested,” he baited, even knowing she’d ignore him.

  “Don’t trip over your own feet on your way there or anywhere else.”

  “Your Oracle advice sounds like it came out of a fortune cookie.”

  Sofi laughed. The small woman was the most powerful Oracle since ancient times, stronger even than his own mother. The White Gods had a long tradition of finding and mating with Oracles. When he’d met Claire, he’d been enamored instantly by her beauty and fighting skill. That she was a weak Oracle unable to access her magic meant nothing to him at the time.

  “Which cats are yours?” he asked, forcing his mind off of Claire and Jenn. “I’m taking a couple with me.”

  “The little black one with blue eyes. She sits with me when I read.”

  “Fitting. Black cat for an Oracle.”

  “Be careful, Darian.”