Of Gods and Wolves (The Godhunter, Book 2)

by Amy Sumida

  “I’m trying to save one of my lions,” I said calmly, keeping my voice in the soothing tone I’d used all day. “He’s been tortured, honey-eyes, and I don’t want to put him down like a dog just because Nyavirezi was a sadist.”

  Trevor eyed the bar chaining Kirill to the floor, took a deep breath, and rubbed a hand over his face. “Loving you has been my greatest joy, Godhunter,” he sighed, “and my greatest frustration. I concede your point but playing him music and reading him bedtime stories aren’t going to be enough.”

  “I’m open to suggestions, baby,” I smiled at him, overwhelmed by my love for this amazing man and my luck at having him in my life.

  He smiled back at me, hopefully seeing some of what I was feeling, and shut the door on the anxious Intare who were waiting in the hall. He wandered over to a far corner and sat down with his back to the wall.

  “How dedicated are you… no, don’t answer that,” he shook his head. “This could take weeks, Minn Elska and I’m not pleased with the prospect of you shacking up with some deranged cat but I’ll tell you what I think needs to be done.”

  “I love you,” Kirill looked back at me and then over at Trevor. Perhaps he sensed the weight of my words or maybe there was enough man left in him to understand. Either way, he didn’t like it. A low growl began in the back of his throat. “Stop it,” I looked at him and shook a finger in his face. “This is my mate. You’ll find your own after you’re better.”

  The massive head turned to the side, his dark eyes starting to fill with a more human intelligence. Finally he gave a great humph and sat back on his haunches.

  Trevor chuckled in his corner. “That’s my girl. If she can’t tame the wild beast, she’ll just confuse it.”

  “Yes, very funny,” I smirked at him. “Now tell me your plan, O wise werewolf.”

  “Well, I’m going to have to leave, which I’m not thrilled about but I think it’s necessary. Then I’d recommend taking that thing out of his ankle.” He pointed at the offending bar. “You’ll never win him back if he’s in constant pain. Animals lash out when they're in pain.”

  “I agree,” I thought about it a second. “We’ll just have to cut an opening in the door so the boys can bring us food.”

  “Sounds good,” he nodded. “Then you need to tell him exactly what’s happened here… over and over until it sinks in. He needs to know the bitch is dead and he’s safe. Tell him everyday and if possible, get him to change to his human form. In between that, just do what you’ve been doing. You’ve got good instincts, Rouva.”

  “Why thank you, sweet Prince,” I said only half mockingly.

  “I’ll come and check on you in a couple of days,” he got to his feet and gave me a sarcastic bow. “I’ll also go speak with Fenrir and see if he has any ideas.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I love you,” he winked at me.

  “I love you too.”

  As soon as the door shut, Kirill returned to his spot on the bed, settling into the thick blankets and nudging me until I lay back against him. I looked down at the book in my lap and sighed.

  “I think it’s time for a different story.”

  Chapter Fifty

  “You can’t release him, Tima,” Darius eyed Kirill, who was sitting calmly but resolutely between us.

  “It was Trevor’s idea,” I raised my chin. “If my boyfriend thinks it’s okay, then you should have no problem with it. Now lay the tool down and get out.”

  “Fine, but I’m cutting a window out of this door right now.”

  “Great, now go,” I watched him lay down the wrench and open the door. “Darius.”

  “Yes, Tima,” his back was stiff and he didn’t turn to face me.

  “It’s going to be alright.”

  He nodded curtly but some of the tension seemed to flow out of his shoulders. When the door was firmly shut and the sounds of a dremel started coming through it, I went and picked up the wrench. Kirill eyed the door and then the wrench in my hand. I approached him slowly and casually sat at his feet.

  “Okay, I’m going to take this out,” I reached for the bar and his head shot down to sniff at me. “It might hurt a little but then you can shift and heal. Do you understand me? I don’t want you to be chained anymore.”

  He blew a hot breath over my hand and nodded before looking up at me. His eyes held even more humanity this morning and I hoped that boded well for what I was about to do. I set the wrench to one of the bolts, tightened it down and, holding firm to the other end, began to loosen it. Kirill inhaled sharply and growled but his attention was fixed on the offending piece of metal not me, so I continued.

  Blood had seeped into the groves, rusting the metal and making my work much more difficult but I was finally able to remove the nut and then the bolt. I tried to pull the bar free but his skin had healed to it, no wonder he didn’t shift often, his flesh must tear and heal each time. I bowed my head to hide the tears I felt coming and hoped I had the courage to tear the metal from him.

  “It’s bonded to you,” I looked up into his eyes. “This is going to hurt, honey, real bad, but I'm here with you.”

  The thread connecting us twitched and I could suddenly feel his heartbeats in the palm of my hand. The desire to comfort him, to take some of his pain away, rose in me until I felt a jolt in my palm. Then a slow ache grew in my left ankle and a heavy weight settled in my chest. His pain, both physical and emotional, were mine now too. His body shook beside me but when I looked up, his eyes were steady.

  “You feel me with you?” A low rumble vibrated through him, a soft purr, and he nudged my cheek with his own. “Okay, we'll do this together. Are you ready?”

  Those deep blue eyes regarded me solemnly, blinked once, and peered down at the metal. He nudged my hand and when I continued to just sit and stare at my task, he licked the tears roughly from my cheek.

  “Okay, I'm going to loosen it slowly so I don't take too much flesh with me,” I moved to the other side and took a firm grip. “Here we go.”

  I held his foot and started to twist the bar gently side to side. Pain bloomed up my leg but I gritted my teeth and breathed through it. Kirill's breathing grew heavy but he didn't move. I felt the bar loosen a bit as a trickle of blood seeped out, so I twisted a little harder.... and screamed. I could feel the flesh breaking away and the metal scraping against bone. My hand began to shake and I knew I needed to finish it soon or I'd pass out.

  Then I felt a warm breath on my neck, a rough tongue against my skin, and a feeling of acceptance filtered down the link from him to me. An almost audible click and Kirill's scent became stronger, his presence in my mind more real. It was like Darius had said, I could try to wrestle the Intare away from Nyavirezi but without their approval, I wouldn't have gotten very far. Kirill had just given me his approval and made our connection complete.

  I didn't even realize how much I'd been straining to hold onto his thread until then. It wasn't like the others who had accepted me and given me their connection willingly, Kirill had been holding back, unsure of me. It was like I'd been playing a game of tug-o-war and suddenly won. Instead of my opponent falling on his face though, he fell into me and I caught him easily.

  His falling empowered me, helped me think past the pain, and I was finally able to continue. I worked at the bar until I was able to turn it completely and then eased it out of his leg. The pain was piercing and Kirill shut me off from it as he flung himself into a corner, pulling in his injured limb and whimpering as he licked at it.

  “Change, baby,” I crept toward him and he fixed me with a stare gone suddenly feral. “Shit, Kirill, don’t go back now.” I tried to reach down the thread for him again but it ended in a wall. I knew I could have torn down that wall but that was something Nyavirezi would have done and I wanted to show Kirill that I was nothing like her. So I allowed him his choice and pulled away. “Shift, you’ll heal as soon as you shift. Go on.”

  The air glimmered and his shape blurred, changing int
o a huddled man, arms wrapped around his knees and bright eyes staring steadily at me over them. His hair fell around him like a cape and I suddenly wanted to paint him. Fragile beauty and vulnerability all housed in an unmistakably powerful body and framed with by that hair. Those thick waves belonged on a woman but he was so aggressively male, it didn't make him look feminine. It somehow made him look more masculine. Like how a jeweler will lay a diamond on black velvet to make it sparkle brighter, the contrast of his hair's softness showed off the facets of his diamond-hard looks.

  “Kirill,” I sat down carefully in front of him.

  “Vhat,” he swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “Vhat is your name?” His accent was thick. Russian maybe. Ukrainian? Czechoslovakian? I don't know, one of those cold places.

  “Vervain,” I waited, hoping there would be more but he just sat there looking at me. After a few minutes, I lay down on my side and closed my eyes, giving him my company while still affording him some privacy… as well as showing him that I was unafraid.

  Two hours later, I woke up in the bed, surrounded by warm, naked male. I tried not to jolt up in shock, focusing on my breathing as I looked over my shoulder at him. Kirill was wide awake, staring at me with open fascination. His hand reached up and gently touched my cheek, stroking the outline of my face with a fingertip.

  He leaned forward, his hair falling around us, making me feel like I’d fallen into a separate reality where nothing existed but us. His scent wrapped around me, warm, musky cat, and the lioness in me rose up and stretched out, reaching for him. His face came to a stop next to mine, cheek to cheek he buried his face in my hair, his breath hot but comfortable on my neck.

  Inside of me, my lioness lifted her head until it felt like her face was just beneath the surface of mine, her eyes looking out of my eyes. The wild magic tingled on my skin, igniting everywhere Kirill’s body touched mine. He pressed in tighter and for a second it was as if we were completely engulfed in magic, two little boats caught in a whirlpool, rapidly plunging down into the unknown.

  I turned in his arms and clung to him blindly, letting the cat in me take over, and she rubbed wholeheartedly against Kirill. Surprisingly, it didn’t feel sexual. It was fiercely sweet, a gentle ache rushing from me to him. I flowed with it, plummeting down our link and into him.

  Inside him, I felt the terrible breaks of his mind and heart. I was able to touch them, to push my energy into them and repair them with bits of myself. Weaving back and forth, healing with the rough lick of a cat’s tongue and the intricacy of a focused witch, I found every scar, every pain, every broken piece of him, and I welded it back together with my will and pieces of my soul.

  “Tima, dinner,” Darius called from the little window, just big enough to push a tray of food through.

  Kirill roared, dislodging me in a flurry of limbs and blankets as he launched himself at the door, reaching through the hole so that Darius had to back up quickly.

  “Kirill,” the sharp sound of my voice made him wince and turn back guiltily. Then I had a new thought. “Look at your brother.” I stood up and slowly approached him. “Darius, his name is Darius and he loves you. All your brothers want you back, they want you to heal and remember them. Nyavirezi is dead. You have nothing to fear anymore.”

  “Brozher,” Kirill stared hard at Darius through the door. He sniffed the air between them and frowned, “Darius.”

  “Kirill?” Darius started to come closer.

  “No, Darius, wait,” I shouted and he stopped just before Kirill reached out to grab him again. “He needs time. Let him adjust to his memories. Kirill, come sit down so I can get our dinner.”

  Kirill eyed Darius and then the bed where I patted my hand. He stalked back and folded himself down beside me. I reached out and took his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze and he looked down at our joined fingers. Lifting them up, he held them in front of his face and tilted his head. Then with a swift movement, he pulled me sharply against him, wrapping me in an anxious hug.

  “Vervain,” he whispered. “Zank you.”

  I hugged him back and started to cry, sensing his return but hardly believing I'd accomplished it in less than two days. I don't think I could have without that healing session I'd instinctively done. He clung tighter, his shoulders shaking from his own relieved tears before he let me go to lean back and take my hands in his.

  “Tima?” He searched my face.

  “Yes.”

  “Nyavirezi?”

  “She’s dead,” I took a deep breath and let the stress of the past few days flow out with it. “I killed her and took her magic. She’ll never hurt you again. No one will if I can help it.”

  He swallowed hard and glanced over at the chain in the floor.

  “You’re free now, Kirill,” his eyes shot back to my face. “They only chained you to prevent you from hurting others but you’re better now.”

  “Zey vanted you to kill me.” His voice was steady, without any hint of blame, and that was definitely a Russian accent.

  “They thought it would be a mercy,” I smiled gently. “I disagreed.”

  “So you saved my life as vell as my sanity,” he made an effort to smile back but it looked strained, as if he’d forgotten how to be happy.

  “I’m your Tima, it’s part of my job,” there, I knew my sass would make a come back eventually.

  “I wish someone had told Nyavirezi that,” Darius had come quietly into the room and Kirill stood up to face him.

  “Dare?” Kirill searched Darius' face.

  Darius swallowed hard, then took another step forward and another. On the third step, Kirill launched forward and Darius braced himself but Kirill only caught him up in a fierce hug, dragging the smaller man off his feet. The two started laughing, crying, and pounding on each other’s backs in an exuberant show of relief and joy. After a few minutes of mumbled exchanges, the boys wandered out of the room to find the others without so much as a backward glance at me.

  “Huh, I guess that’s why they say it’s lonely at the top,” I laughed to myself and headed out to find my room and hopefully some clothes that would fit me.

  I needed a shower before I headed home and then I needed to sleep for about a week, snuggled up with my favorite werewolf. I was glad the boys had Kirill back, ecstatic that I’d been able to save him, but I had no problem leaving them to their celebration and heading home. There was only so much excitement a girl could take.

  I finally found my way through the endless corridors to Nyavirezi’s old room. It was amazing that I remembered where it was in the maze of hallways, even though I knew it was at the center of the palace, finding that center wasn't so simple.

  It was a beautiful, airy room, dominated by a massive bamboo, four-poster bed in the center with white netting hanging all over it. I didn't know that bamboo grew so large, the posts were each a single piece and they were at least thirty inches around. It was so high, I practically needed a step ladder to get in it. The height appealed to me but the idea that it belonged to Niyavirezi didn't. Who knows if I'd ever be able to actually sleep in it.

  The floor was covered with cushion-thick straw mats, which I intended on replacing with carpet when I had the chance, and the walls were painted off-white. Light poured through the large window that made up the wall opposite the door, making the room even brighter and softening the faces of the numerous tribal masks that filled the entire wall to the right. Oh yeah, those were gonna go too.

  On the left wall there was a bamboo vanity and a matching rack of light, cotton clothes… another thing I had to do something about. How could a woman only have one small rack for her clothes? It was preposterous, especially with all the space she had. I fully intended on building a closet.

  Closer to the right-hand wall was a sitting area with a love seat, two chairs and a table, all done in the same bamboo and cushioned in white. The table held a beautiful chess set, reminding me of Nyavirezi’s taunt that I should study the game more. Hmph, I actually played
chess quite well but it was never a good idea to brag to your enemies. Better to let them underestimate you.

  “Check mate, biatch,” I snapped at the poor innocent chess set.

  I headed past it with a smug grin, sparing a quick glance for the butterflies fluttering around the window-wall, and went through the door on the right wall which led to the bathroom. I had yet to see a bathroom as beautiful as Blue’s jungle themed triumph but Nyavirezi’s was a winner as well.

  The tub was sunken into the floor and looked like it could easily hold five. It was white marble and round, with seats along the rim and stairs leading down into it. There was one of those extra large, rain showerheads hanging from the ceiling over the middle of the tub. Shower curtains were unnecessary since the tub was so wide, the water would never spray out far enough.

  The floor around it was marble as well but had strategically placed woven reed mats that I actually thought were a good choice. The counters and storage chests were all made out of bamboo, the sinks were the same white marble as the tub, and the screened off toilet was marble as well. There was a large mirror over the sinks, trimmed in bamboo, and wall sconces, the bulbs shining bright with god magic instead of electricity and shaded with reed panels. Nyavirezi seriously lacked creativity but evidently had unlimited finances.

  I threw off my clothes, walked down into the tub, and turned the water on with the knobs set in the floor near the rim. Water poured down from the showerhead and I stepped into it eagerly, longing for the relief the heat would give my aching muscles.

  As I soaked, I thought about the tangle my life had become. All in all, my days with Kirill had been the best days I’d had in awhile. While I was focused on him, his pain and healing, I was able to forget about my own issues. I had a feeling my new palace was going to be a sanctuary to me in many ways. I could sure get used to the shower.

  When I finished, I grabbed a towel from the cabinet and dried off as I went back into the bedroom. Towel at my head, I was vigorously rubbing my long hair when I noticed I wasn’t alone in the room. I shrieked and quickly covered up, gaping at Kirill who was sitting patiently on the loveseat. At least he was dressed this time. So that made one of us.