Amy Sumida - Eye of Re (The Godhunter Book 17)

by Unknown

  “Oh, right,” Ted gave me a grin. “Well done.”

  “You didn't come to our wedding in that future,” I explained. “You and the rest of the Horsemen couldn't make it. And by the way, thanks a lot for telling me you're that Death, Azrael.”

  “He is?” Trevor lifted his brows. “Like on a pale horse?”

  “How did you guys not know this?” Azrael shook his head.

  “Zere are plenty of death angels,” Kirill said.

  “Thank you,” I nodded to Kirill.

  “Well, I don't know why we didn't attend the wedding in that future but we're all here now,” Ted shrugged. “Ira and Sam are dying to meet you. Get it?” Ted elbowed Azrael in the side. “Dying. And you're Death.”

  “Yeah, I get it,” Azrael rolled his eyes.

  “They can meet her later,” Trevor said.

  “Da,” Kirill nodded. “Now ve dance.”

  “Our first dance as a married couple,” Trevor grinned.

  “A married sextuple,” Kirill corrected and everyone gaped at him. “Vhat? A sextuplet is six, so sextuple is like a couple except vith six people.”

  “It just sounded kinda dirty, man,” Ted chuckled.

  “Da, zat's ze point,” Kirill shook his head. “It's funny and true.”

  “Technically, with Arach in Faerie, we're only a quintuple,” Azrael corrected.

  “Perhaps,” Kirill agreed. “But zat is not as funny. Plus, Re is here, zat makes us still a sextuple.”

  “Alright, alright,” I laughed. “How are we going to do this first dance, my quadruple of husbands?”

  “We drew straws,” Odin held his hand out to me. “I got the first pass.”

  “First pass?” I lifted a brow as he escorted me outside, over the veranda and down to the tent.

  “You'll see,” Trevor called out from behind us.

  As we entered the tent, people stopped to congratulate us but Dark Horses was on stage and Rain, the lead singer, spotted us and called us forward.

  “They're here, everyone,” Rain said after he stopped the music. “So let's clear a space for the first dance.”

  Gods parted and a circular area appeared before the stage. I gave Rain a big smile as Odin led me to the center of it. My new and old husband took my waist in one hand and my right hand in his other. Arach and I attended a lot of Balls in Faerie, so I was very comfortable with traditional dancing. I guess it was about to come in handy.

  Dark Horses started playing a slow song, not a waltz or anything like that, just a sweet romantic ballad that they'd wrote for our wedding. It was beautiful, with lyrics like; love with wings and lions and kings, and; no one can define my heart but you. Odin led me around the circle like we were dancing to Mozart and it was so damn sexy. I laughed as he twirled me around and released me... right into Trevor's waiting arms.

  It went on like that, a different style of dancing with each man, ending with a twirl that sent me spinning to my next partner. It was thrilling and I wasn't the only one who thought so. The crowd cheered with every new man and called out encouragement to the men with each new style of dance. Trevor's was a little wild, full of dramatic lifts ending with brief kisses. Kirill's was proper but very masculine, he was definitely leading me, with strong movements of his arms and occasional stomps of his feet. I finished with Azrael, who outdid them all by releasing his wings and lifting me up in the air to twirl above everyone.

  At the end of the song, I tried to walk off the dance floor but Trevor was suddenly holding my hand again. He pulled me up onto the stage with him and let go of me so he could pick up an acoustic guitar. I gave him a confused look as Rain gave me a wink and stepped away from the mic. Trevor settled the guitar over his chest and took my hand once more to ease me up beside him at the mic stand.

  “I apologize in advance for putting you all through this,” Trevor said into the microphone. “But it's my wedding, so suck it up.” He paused for the laughter to die down and then looked over to me. “I wish I had the talent to write you a love song but I don't, I barely have the talent to sing one. So I'm going to have to make due with a song I found that says everything I want to say.”

  Trevor set his hands to the guitar strings and shocked me by playing it beautifully. Then he started to sing and shocked me even more. His voice was rich and deep, with that sort of masculine vibration that flies into your chest and makes you shiver.

  “Love of mine, someday you will die,” he sang. “But I'll be close behind. I'll follow you into the dark.”

  Trevor's voice carried over the crowd but they faded away for me. It was only us there on that stage. I recognized the song immediately; I will Follow You Into the Dark by Death Cab for Cutie. I teared up in seconds, knowing what was coming but still unprepared for my reaction. The words were perfect for us, describing a life and love so wonderful that death wouldn't be anything for us to fear. We would face it together, like we did everything else, and beyond it, we'd find each other again.

  “If there's no one beside you when you when your soul embarks, I will follow you into the dark,” he stared at me and as I sobbed like a little girl, he blinked his honey-eyes and tears overflowed them to trickle down his cheeks.

  By the time he finished the song, I was a mess. Thank goodness I'd had the forethought to wear waterproof mascara so at least I didn't have black streaks down my cheeks but I was sure my nose was as red as Rudolph's. Trevor handed the guitar to Rain without even looking at him. He kept his eyes on me and as soon as his arms were free, I went into them. We shared a tear-flavored kiss as the crowd cheered.

  “Alright, all of you deadly deities,” Rain was on the mic again. “It's cake cutting time!”

  Trevor led me back to my other grooms and we led our guests over to the veranda, where the wedding cake and all four groom's cakes had been put out on display. I fed my four husbands little bites of cake and then cringed through the possibility of getting cake all over my face, four times. Not one of them did it and I breathed a sigh of relief until suddenly, all four of them ganged up on me with fresh bits of cake and smashed them all over my face. I had so much cake on my face, I couldn't even open my eyes and they had to lead me off to the bathroom to wash up. That was the one bad part of being in a relationship with five men; they outnumbered you.

  “It's delicious!” I declared, to the delight of the crowd, as I was led away, licking my lips.

  And I knew that life would be just as sweet now that we had taken the final step and bound ourselves together.

  Keep reading for a sneak peek into the next book in The Godhunter Series:

  My Soul to Keep

  Chapter One

  I appeared in my bedroom at Pride Palace with a smile on my face. I was beginning to adjust to leaving my sons in Faerie and now I could do so without anxiety or tears. That didn't mean I enjoyed leaving them there while I came back to the God Realm to spend some time with my new husbands. But now I could at least enjoy the time I spent with my children and hold that memory close until I went back.

  Faerie was an idyllic place for me now; a sanctuary of love and peace. Ever since the birth of my twin sons, Brevyn and Rian, the Faerie Realm had been quiet. There were no stirrings of war or rumors of vicious plots. No crazy faeries tried to kill me or anyone I loved. The Fire Kingdom was in a bubble of bliss, enjoying the security of having their heir and a happy royal family. There hadn't even been any village disputes to mediate. It was perfect.

  The God Realm was a different matter entirely.

  I'd had a bit of a break on my honeymoons. I hadn't known it but my husbands had each planned a separate honeymoon for me. So I went to a villa in Florence with Azrael, a castle in Scotland with Trevor, a posh hotel in Paris with Kirill, and on a Mediterranean cruise with Odin (courtesy of Thor, who actually owns a line of cruise ships... guess which one).

  The honeymoons were fabulous and decadent and maybe a bit naughty, just as honeymoons should be. I've now had sex in so many beautiful (and sometimes public) places that
I couldn't think of a single new scene for romance. That should be depressing, the thought that there was nowhere I could go for a passionate rendezvous that wasn't similar to one I'd been to before. But it's pretty hard to be depressed when you've got five incredible husbands and one sexy sun god lover. I figured we could just look on it as a challenge.

  Unfortunately, as soon as I returned home from all of my love-basking honeymoons, the reality of being the Godhunter returned. The God Squad wanted details of my trip down future-memory lane. Not because they were a bunch of pervs but because they'd heard about my run in with Qaus, Gish, and Disani. Even though I'd decided not to hunt these gods, based on Silenus' prophecy, the Squad still thought we should keep tabs on them. They also thought I should go see the Fates and make sure the prophecy was what I thought it was. Finally, they wanted to discuss Pasithea and her fresh crop of poppies. We knew exactly where she was but there was a slight problem with getting to her since she was staying with her father, Dionysus.

  Then there was my Intare and all the drama they stirred up on a daily basis. I was placing more and more responsibility on them and I think they're starting to mature past the frat boy stage but it's taking awhile. So, just as in the Fire Kingdom, I was in charge of settling disputes. Unlike the Fire Kingdom though, these disputes were usually ridiculous and often included Aidan. I swear, that lion loved making trouble. I had started calling him the Instigator.

  So even though I was smiling from my visit with Brevyn and Rian, I lost that smile when an urgent voice crackled through my bedroom intercom.

  “Tima, are you there?” It was Fallon and he was upset, which was a very bad sign.

  I crossed the room and reached the intercom in three seconds, “I'm here.”

  “We have a visitor,” the words formed an ice cube in my belly. What fresh Hell was this?

  “Who is it?” I asked warily.

  “It's Yemanja,” Fallon whispered.

  Yemanja. I blinked in surprise. I hadn't seen the Vodou lwa in years. The last time was on a beach in Hawaii. I'd been with Thor and she had warned us that I was in danger. It was actually the second time she'd tried to protect me. The first had been when I was a child and had fallen off a boat. She'd saved me from drowning, though I hadn't known who or what she was at the time. Basically, I owed her.

  “Send her up,” I said into the speaker.

  “Right away, Tima,” Fallon replied.

  “What's going on?” Trevor came down the stairs from his tower bedroom, looking as delicious as ever, even though he was only dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. A T-shirt which read; Definition of Animal Magnetism: followed by an arrow pointing up at his face.

  “Ain't that the truth,” I smiled at his shirt and he chuckled as he came forward to give me a kiss.

  “You gonna answer my question or make me guess?” Trevor pulled back a little but kept his arms around me.

  “Yemanja is here,” I answered him. “I don't know why but she's on her way up.”

  “She is in fact, here already,” Yemanja said from the doorway.

  She looked a lot different from the last time I'd seen her but then she didn't have an ocean handy to clothe herself with. Instead, she wore a turquoise silk dress which skimmed over her lush body almost as slickly as the water had. The color was vibrant against her dark skin. Her crown was gone but she didn't need it, she looked like a queen as she walked toward me on high heels coated in sparkling crystals.

  “Come in, it's good to see you,” I hurried over to her and reached out to shake her hand but she surprised me by giving me a hug.

  “It's good to see you too, Vervain,” she stroked my hair lovingly. “You look beautiful, motherhood suits you.”

  “You heard about that, huh?” I smiled.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Trevor offered. “Coffee, tea, water?”

  “A glass of cool water would be wonderful,” she nodded to him. “And congratulations on your recent nuptials.” We both thanked her before she went on. “I would have been at the wedding but I've had some trouble within the Vodou community.”

  “What's going on?” I asked immediately as I ushered her to a seat at our little kitchen table.

  “People are being murdered, Vervain,” she said gravely as she took a seat and set her intense, dark stare on me. “My people. And I don't know who's behind it.”

  “I'll help you of course,” I gave her hand a pat. “I owe you that much at the very least. Tell me what's happening.”

  “It began with just one death,” she frowned. “A loyal servant of mine died and I went to her, to help her soul move past the gates and into the Waters of Ginen.”

  “The Waters of Ginen?” I'd never really understood how the Vodou religion worked and as much as the timing was inappropriate, I was still curious.

  I knew Vodou was based on a belief that there was one god but he was too busy to handle petty human issues, so the lwa, who were kind of like angels, were there to look after humans. The belief was that lwas were once humans who had achieved greatness in life and so, upon death, were elevated to this angelic status. Of course, I knew that lwas were never human at all, they were Atlanteans who took sacrifices to become god-like. But still, the Vodou religion was the one which came closest to the truth about the origins of the Atlanteans.

  “The Waters of Ginen is a territory of the God Realm,” Yemanja explained. “It's a type of purgatory where souls go to rest before being called back to Earth.”

  “Like reincarnation?” I asked.

  “No, not at all,” she shook her head. “In Vodou, it's believed that a human soul can be split into pieces. When you are reborn into humanity through an initiation ceremony, you take with you a jar which is bound to you, so that you may put a piece of your soul into it. Specifically, the gros bon ange, the part of your soul that carries of piece of Bon Dieu, the Good God, and can live on after death.”

  “Okay,” I frowned. “So they have a jar to put their souls in?”

  “A piece of them, yes,” she nodded. “This is for times when their met tet, their personal lwa, wants to borrow their body. It's called being rode, like a horse. The gros bon ange goes into the pot de tet for safety until it can return to its body but there is always a connection between the individual and the pot de tet.”

  “The soul pot?” I lifted a brow.

  “Literally; the head pot,” she nodded. “This pot is very important but it is left on the altar in the oumphor, the church, and is guarded by a priest or priestess, known as a houngan if he's a male or a mambo if she's a woman. This is an act of trust between the initiate and their priest because the pot can be used to control a soul.”

  “Whoa, hold on,” Trevor looked back at us from his spot at the counter, where he was brewing a pot of coffee. “You're saying that this pot can be used for mind control but these people just leave them on an altar in the care of some priest?”

  I could understand Trevor's horror. As a bonded Froekn, he was very familiar with the idea of splitting his soul. But the split was only done during a Froekn binding ceremony and the piece of soul was given to the werewolf's mate. This not only bonded the couple but ensured that if one were to die, the other wouldn't suffer for long. They would soon follow their mate. I held a piece of Trevor's soul, though he didn't have a piece of mine.

  “Yes,” Yemanja nodded. “And there can be issues with that but normally, the priest or priestess is worthy of the trust.”

  “Normally?” I cocked my head.

  “There are, of course, those humans who are lured by greed or power and abuse the trust put into them,” Yemanja sighed. “These people are considered to be evil and are called bokors. They are the dark side of Vodou, the monsters that so many humans believe my people to be.”

  “Right,” I understood monsters. “So you've got your villains, just like everyone else does, but let's get back to this death you were talking about. What happened to make it unusual?”

  “Well, the soul I found was u
nsettled,” Yemanja swallowed hard. “She said that her pot de tet had been stolen from the oumphor and that a bokor had murdered her shortly afterward. She believed he was the one who'd taken her pot and she feared that she'd be called back from Ginen early, before the traditional year and a day, and forced into a govi pot to serve the bokor.”

  “A govi pot?” Trevor asked as he set a cup of coffee down in front of me and put his own in front of his seat.

  “Thank you,” I whispered to him. He'd already put cream and sugar in it and it was perfect. Just like him. Oh, give me a break, I was still in the honeymoon phase.

  “The pot de tet is made into a govi pot when a person dies,” Yemanja has explained. “I'm sorry this is so complicated. I don't have to go into all of this if you'd rather just skip to the end.”

  “No,” I waved her concern away. “I think I need to understand everything if I'm going to help. So, let's be clear... this govi pot would give an evil bokor power over a soul?”

  “Yes,” Yemanja said gravely. “A soul which he could summon to Earth to do whatever he bids of it.”

  “That sounds like trouble,” I grimaced.

  “I was concerned, to say the least,” Yemanja nodded. “I instantly followed her connection to her pot de tet and discovered that she was right. The pot was within the hands of a bokor.”

  “Can't you take it back?” I asked.

  “He is protected by great magic,” Yemanja sighed. “And here's where it gets really troubling... there were more of him.”

  “What?” Trevor asked.

  “He was just one of a large group of bokors who all seemed to have many pots in their possession,” Yemanja stated grimly. “I could sense the taint in their living bodies and the misery in the enslaved souls.”

  “Sense?” I frowned.

  “I couldn't get close to them,” her jaw clenched. “As I mentioned, this bokor is protected. He lives within a community of these bokors and not only do they have strong wards in place but they are all under the protection of another lwa. There was nothing I could do but retreat.”