“Then tell me, how would you put it?”
She swayed toward him, her entire body feeling like Jell-O. “I feel like a herd of nymphomaniacs just lodged themselves into my body and overthrew my brain.”
He stood and towered over her small frame and slowly shook his head as he held his hands out to her, a small chuckle escaping his mouth. “I applaud you for handling the situation so well.”
“You’re laughing at me? Do you think this is all some kind of big joke?” She looked around her tiny apartment, looked anywhere but at him. “I don’t even like you and yet my body wants you, needs you. Do you know how infuriating that is?”
His smile was blinding, bringing a soft flicker to his eyes. “I’m laughing with you, not at you.”
“Do you see me laughing?” She reached up and he pulled her to her feet. The contact was electrifying.
Jerking her hands away, she closed her eyes trying to ignore the heat that was threatening her sanity. “Why must the One Race go through the Burning?”
“The race is descended from the gods, but they aren’t pureblood.” He shrugged. “For whatever godly reason, the law was decreed that to prove themselves worthy of godly powers, they must endure the Burning.”
“Meaning?”
“Everything comes with a price. You want to live with godpowers, you must earn it.”
“And if I don’t want it?” She opened her eyes, stared into his, and watched his eyes harden, darken, and swirl with an odd blue light.
His voice twisted, a slight deep resonating sound that thundered in her ears. “Then you will die, like so many others before you and Damon will have one less member to try to kill off or to turn into a witch.”
She nodded. “Damon . . . ” A tear rimmed her eye, but she refused to remember times best forgotten. “Why does he want to kill the members of the One Race?”
“Witches, vampires, werewolves, and other beings of that sort take pleasure from One Race deaths.” His eyes traveled down the towel she was wearing making her shiver. “Gyth and Damon have been at each other’s throats since Tanterious gave Gyth the throne and condemned Damon to the Underworld.”
Damon. Her heart stopped. Damon, the Lord of the Underworld. The years came crashing around her, the memories alive and as vivid as the days she had lived them.
Chanta sat down, slumped back in the chair, and just stared at Payne. Yes, she had always known she was different from most people, even different from most members of the One Race. Yes, she had come to terms that her brother was a god. Not completely on board with Gyth being her dear old dad, but she didn’t have any reason not to believe Payne.
She should have figured as much about her father, but she had known Gyth forever it seemed. And now that she thought about it, it did make sense. But the rest of it? Damon included. Had he honestly been out to kill her? She just couldn’t handle it, not that part of it.
Information and emotional overload.
“There is more that you will need to know.”
“No, it’s time for you to shut it up.” She made a gesture as if to zip her lips. “No more talking from you.”
“But?”
“No!” She stood, the fierce look on her face evidence enough that she was done, or it should have been at least.
“I am not finished. We have barely skimmed the surface of the things you must know,” Payne insisted. “The gods are all mettlesome creatures and at some point in your life I’m sure you will end up dealing with some of them.”
“Do you know what no means?” She swallowed hard, clenched her teeth, and rubbed her temples. Payne had no idea of the things she had already dealt with. “I have heard enough.”
“The Destroyers are protectors, fighters.” He grunted as she closed her eyes. “We kill the minions that would do harm to the One Race.”
“I know that Payne. I get it. I’m just not sure I want to live basically forever.” Putting her fingers in her ears, she shook her head, and replied, “Shut up Payne! I cannot bear to hear any more. For the love of the gods, let me digest what you have already told me before you carry on.”
Her gasp was lost in his growl as he hauled her up from the chair by her wrists. “You will listen! I don’t want to be here wasting my time with you when I could be out there killing something.”
Slowly, she collected herself and jerked her hands away from him for the second time. Retaliation burned in her guts as he stomped to the window.
“You are the daughter of a god. Like it or not, you will go through the Burning. I will be your only salvation, but trust me it was by no choice of my own.” He turned back to her with his eyes glowing blue. “It will serve you well to sit down and listen to everything I have to say or I will tie you to that damn chair and show you exactly what I am.”
He had some nerve! “What you are? I know what you are.”
His eyes flashed as he spoke, his fangs elongating. “I am the devil’s son or have you forgotten when we first met?”
“Don’t you dare stand there all high and mighty! You can take your tall, dark, and I am your worst nightmare bullshit and stick it where the sun don’t shine! And by god, if you don’t want to be here, don’t let the door hit you in the ass as you walk out of it!” Her finger pointed to the door. “Go be someone else’s salvation because I damn sure as hell don’t need you to be mine!”
• • •
Payne was speechless. He was utterly speechless and completely enthralled by this small wisp of a female that had the backbone of a Destroyer. He watched as her jaw flexed, knew she was gritting her teeth, and had a sudden appreciation for her sprout in his loins.
He could only listen as she continued her rant. “And if you think you are going to stand around acting like Mr. Badass and command me to do this or that, you are sadly mistaken! Trust me, I have dealt with men far scarier than you are and for the life of me, I have no idea why I agreed to listen to anything you had to say!”
He stalked to her, standing a mere inch away, his breath cascading down onto her upturned face. “If I were a man right now, I would kiss you until you had nothing left to say.”
Her eyes latched onto his slightly parted lips. “If you were a man, you wouldn’t be standing in my apartment right now.”
Heat flooded him, her face glowing a soft red as he raised his hand and ran his fingertips down her cheek. Instantly, sweat beaded across her forehead. His tongue ran across his bottom lip and she groaned, his body jerking with the sound.
He had never experienced a more erotic moment than this one.
Payne staggered back, his body’s reaction sending spasms of alarms going off in his brain. He had never been this attracted to a female before, never wanted to take one down to the floor and have her screaming his name.
“Payne?” Her hoarse whisper lodged in his ears, made him crazy with need.
He took two steps back, tried to get the visions of taking her on the floor out of his mind. His erection hurt, pounded and threatened to erupt at the slightest touch. With no alternative at hand, he dematerialized.
• • •
Chanta followed Payne and reached for his arm to steady herself because her legs felt wobbly. She grasped air as he vanished right before her eyes. Sinking down into the carpet, she closed her eyes and tried to breathe through whatever it was causing her to turn into a sex crazed lunatic.
Man, she really couldn’t be falling for the brute. She didn’t even know him, didn’t trust him, and wasn’t even sure if she liked him. Her body jerked as if to disagree.
“Yeah, okay,” She begrudgingly admitted to the empty apartment, “I’m kind of, sort of, maybe attracted to him.”
Chapter 20
Varick waited rather impatiently as Isten explained again how to control the power inside of him. It wasn’t for lack of trying that he was still having such a hard time.
Tapping a finger to his temple, Isten said, “The power is here, tangible from the mind’s eye. Every volt of power must come toge
ther within your mind, be centered, travel to your heart, and flow through your veins. You must know it, sense it, need it, and never fight against it as you have been doing. It is as much a part of you as your blood, organs, and limbs.”
Taking a deep breath, Varick relaxed, closed his eyes, and let his powers fuse together, let them blend, and pulled them together.
“That’s it Varick. Let it travel through your body, become a part of them as they are a part of you.”
A glowing ball of energy appeared hovering over Varick’s hand. It grew brighter as he opened his now white glowing eyes.
“Now focus on what you desire to see. Let the power guide you to her.”
The ball of light dimmed as Chanta’s face appeared. She looked up to the full moon and her steps faltered as she stared. Somewhere in the distance, the distinct howl of a wolf brought her out of her reprieve. She hurried along the dirt path glancing over her shoulder occasionally.
“Her name is Chanta Timbers, mine sister,” whispered Varick in an eerie voice that caught him off guard. “She is the first of her kind, part god and part angel.”
Isten nodded. “You must protect her at all costs.”
The light disappeared as Varick turned to Isten. “Is she the reason you wanted me to be a part of your pantheon? Does she have something to do with your future? With Gyth’s?”
Isten shrugged. “Perhaps.”
“Not much of an answer,” Varick returned. “Now about Payne. What role do you want him to play?”
Isten frowned. “For now, he has his own destiny to deal with. He must make a choice soon enough and if things fall as they should, he will come out on top, so to speak. And he and I have an agreement of sorts that is best left unspoken.”
Varick rolled his eyes. “What is it with you gods? Do you ever just give straight out answers?”
“Of course not,” laughed Isten. “It’s part of the mystic. Now, what do you know of Tanterious?”
“Not much. He overthrew the other pantheons and took most of the powers of the gods he defeated.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.” Varick grinned mischievously knowing that Isten was fishing. “Perhaps you should ask Gyth.”
“Perhaps.” Isten waved his hand and an image of Charon appeared. “Tell me about this pact you have with Charon.”
“He is after Jaiden’s books and has several of them already. He wants me to help locate all of them. And don’t ask me what for either because I don’t know.” Varick shook his head. “He has made some kind of deal with Bastilla, the woman who has plagued Payne all these years. She came to Tortured Souls.”
Isten’s nose flared. “Was she not in the Underworld serving Damon?”
“As far as we knew, she had pledged herself to Damon, one of the reasons that her memory plagues Payne.”
“And Charon has allowed her passage to the earth’s surface.”
“Seems he has.” Varick took a deep breath. “Charon is becoming a pain in my ass.”
Thunderous laughter fell from Isten’s mouth. “I am becoming aware of that sentiment.” He waved his hand again and an image of Gyth appeared before them.
Varick growled as he watched his father move a game piece on a large chess board. The piece was an image of Chanta. “What in the nine hells is he doing?”
“Laying out the board and preparing for the game at hand.” Isten pointed to a piece that oddly resembled Varick, but should have been a rook. “Looks like you are part of the game.”
• • •
Damon waited, the game of being the Underworld ruling power stretching his nerves tight. He sat on his throne, almost impatiently as black horned demons led Charon into his throne room. Another bargain he was sure would follow Charon’s appearance.
Menacing shadows crept along the ceiling and down the walls of the room as thirty more demons followed behind Damon’s old acquaintance. As the throne room doors closed, Charon abruptly vanished in a wisp of smoke and reappeared in front of Damon’s throne, an eerie smile lingering on his lips.
Damon’s instinctive defenses fired, warned him.
The god had changed, his entire demeanor now dangerous, lethal. A surge of cold air whipped about the room as a large green portal appeared in the center of the throne room. Charon laughed, the portal swirling and cracking with power. Damon could feel the power radiating from not only the portal but from the god in tidal waves, menacing dark waves of energy.
Damon kept his thoughts and emotions hidden, deep within and brought his I-am-ruler-here attitude to the surface. Charon’s smile disappeared, his eyes glowing red.
He watched in silence as Charon bowed slightly. “The debt I owe you has been paid. Bastilla is on earth searching for your son as we speak.”
Damon held out his hand. A soft glowing ball of light lifted from his palm. “Her soul as promised. Of course, you know that to fully own her soul, you must be the one to end her life.”
Charon pulled out a jar from his robes, opened the lid, and waited patiently as the ball of light floated to him. With a delicate motion, he guided the light into the jar and sealed the lid.
“And the fetus she carried? Where is it?” Damon asked slowly, his eyes narrowing as a female, dressed in white and with long white-feathered wings stepped out of the portal. “Explain this female’s presence!”
Charon turned slightly, glancing at the beautiful Angel. “This is Elena, Chanta Timbers’ mother.”
“Why would you dare bring an angel to this domain?” Damon stared at the angel. Her skin was almost translucent, an iridescent glow hovering around her. “It’s forbidden for her to come here.”
Elena stepped forward, standing beside of Charon. “I forbid your son to be with my daughter. I have erased his destiny.” A book appeared in her right hand and a pen made of bone in her left. “With Jaiden’s bones, I have crafted a set of pens to rewrite his destiny. The decisions you make this night will result in what lies ahead for him.”
“You, an angel, dare to threaten my son!” Damon roared, the walls trembling from the power of his anger. “Your kind are nothing but the keepers of mankind, not of the One Race!”
“And you are nothing but a collage of dead gods reborn from their ashes!” Elena spat at his feet. “Do you even have a soul of your own? Do you even have a destiny?”
A pain surfaced in Damon’s heart. It was a dull ache that had gnawed at him for centuries. An ache he wanted to ignore yet he couldn’t, but he wouldn’t speak of it to anyone, let alone an angel.
Damon laughed, a soft caged animal sound. “No angel in her right mind would come to this domain of her own free will and insult the Lord of the Underworld. With the simplest thought I could send you to your death and snatch that bright shining soul away from you and torment it for the remainder of eternity.”
Elena’s body shifted, her wings spreading wide as silver armor appeared encasing her body in its protective grasp. In her hand, a flaming sword of fire appeared. Her soft yellow hair became completely covered by the helmet of the Commander of the Angel Legion.
“I am no second rate angel.” She pointed the sword at Damon’s chest. “If your son defiles my daughter with your unrighteous blood, I will kill you both!”
“Empty threats . . . ” Damon wanted to laugh at her, but kept his calm. “I am not Gyth and I won’t make bargains with an angel that defiled herself with his blood!”
Elena barked an unladylike laugh. “Dare you question the strength of his blood? He is directly descended from Isten himself.”
Damon grinned. “Your daughter is a shining star among dead suns. She tastes of rainbows and honey on a warm spring day.”
Damon pointed to the book in her hand. “What does Jaiden’s book foretell of your daughter’s destiny?”
Elena stepped back, her eyes showing her fear. “It has been unwritten! So it matters not.”
Charon spoke, the sound of dead leaves crunching around him. “We are at an impasse. Elena wants her daughter u
ntouched by your son. You Damon, you want her daughter and the fetus Bastilla has hidden from you that I now have in my possession. And I want . . . ” he looked at the book in Elena’s hand. “I want what belongs to Jaiden.”
Damon paced in front of the throne, his thoughts gathering. “I have had a wonderful taste of Chanta. You both want bargains from me and so I shall begin with what I want. I want that fetus Bastilla has hidden from me and I want Chanta.”
“Never.” Elena handed Charon the book and the pen and held out a slender silver chain that appeared dangling from her fingers. “In return for this book and the remainder of Jaiden’s bones, I want to ensure that Damon never has my daughter.”
Damon narrowed his eyes. If he couldn’t have Chanta, there was something else he wanted. But timing was everything. He had not become Lord of the Underworld without a heavy dose of patience and cunning. And always a back-up plan . . . or two.
“If you want the fetus, you must give me something in return.” Charon’s nostrils flared. “I want your sworn oath that you will leave Chanta alone.”
Damon replied, “You will need to be more specific than that.”
“Very well. What Elena wants is for you not to fall in love with Chanta nor for her to fall in love with you. Under no circumstance are you to physically touch her.” He turned to Elena. “To change destiny is an almost futile quest; however, it can be done. Destinies have a way of rewriting themselves even after a destiny has been erased. I can change their fates, for a price, of course. And I will require more than just Jaiden’s bones and his book.”
She nodded. “What do you want?”
“Are you prepared to pay the price?”
“Yes.” She cast a glare at Damon. “I will pay the price to keep Damon away from her.”
“Very well. I want an angel’s soul.”
She took a harsh breath and slowly nodded. “Done.”
Damon controlled his anger and interrupted the conversation. “In that case, if you want my sworn oath not only do I want the fetus, I want Chanta Timbers to carry the fetus to full term. I want her to raise the child as her own.”
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