Xavier’s face flushed. He tugged at the collar of his tux. “Oh, heavens. I thought you knew.”
The room melted away. “Tell me. What. Did. You. Say?”
The priest looked at me sideways. “I—uh—really sh-shouldn’t,” he stuttered. “It’s not my place.”
“Did you just say that Votan—Guy—is the God of Death and War?”
He hesitantly replied, “Well, well, yes. I did, but—”
“What does that mean, exactly?” I was going to throw up.
“It means his special talent—what he’s best known for—is…” He cleared his throat. “Death and war, my dear.”
Well, great. Now my life was just perfect. And how stupid of me not to see it before. Anyone who looked at the man knew he was lethal, not to mention tedious and annoying. Of course, he was the God of Death and War.
My world froze, but the little old man, didn’t seem to notice because he just rambled on. “They all have many special talents, you know. Dozens in fact. But they’re usually known best for the ones they excel at or by what the adoring culture values most. For example, Votan—Guy—is also known as Coquenexo, the Lord of Multiplication. And the God of Drums. It’s quite funny when you think about it.” He removed his glasses and rubbed his nose. “And the Norse—well, they called him Odin—they worshiped him for his skills at poetry and killing. Quite odd. Then there were the Germanic who called him Wotan—”
“Excuse me.” My face went cold and blood had pooled in my feet. I turned away from the little man and headed for the door. I needed to get out of there.
All this time, I’d been living with a killer. The Grim Reaper.
Could things get any worse?
***
I paced back and forth in Guy’s quarters, thinking through my options. I could play it calmly and not let on that I was in a hysterical panic, then quickly break our bond and run away.
Okay. That wouldn’t work. Maybe he’d snap my neck before I got to the door or chain me up in some dungeon. Surely this place had one. Or ten. Then there was choice number two. Cry. No. No. That was no good. I could—
The door swung open. Guy entered, smiling like he’d just come back from the best night of his life.
Of course. Having seven hundred people groveling all night, worshiping him for being a ruthless killer…what glorious fun.
Guy’s eyes met mine, and his bright white smile melted away.
“Is it true?” I asked, standing at the farthest end of the room at the foot of the bed.
“Is what true?” He removed his jacket.
“What do you think?”
“Honestly, Emma, I’m not one for games.” He sat down on the couch in the small sitting area with his back to me and started removing his shoes.
“Are you really the God of Death? Is that your special talent? Killing people?”
Guy glanced over his shoulder at me. “And don’t forget War.”
“No. Who could forget that?”
“Oh, come on, Emma. You can’t define me by that silly title. You of all people should know better.”
“How many people have you killed?” Just looking at him now made me imagine battlefields littered with bloody masses while Guy hovered over them in his flaming chariot, laughing. A bit dramatic. I know. But that’s what my imagination came up with.
He stood up and took a few steps toward me. I noticed he’d removed his socks. Even his perfect toes looked powerful and lethal. Could he throw star-darts with them?
“Emma, please don’t look at me that way. It’s not like that.” Was that disappointment I saw in his eyes? Mr. Arrogant Killer was bothered that I didn’t approve of his profession?
“How many?” I said, chewing my thumbnail.
“What difference does it make, woman?”
“It just does. I want to know.”
“If I tell you ten-thousand or a million, you’ll still see it the same way, and it doesn’t address the fact that every time I take a life, it’s the right thing to do. It’s what I must do. Even if I don’t want to.” He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, leaving on just the plain white tee underneath.
I tried not to notice the swell of his biceps, or the rise of his pecks, which created two crescent shaped shadows beneath them. I tried not to notice how the line of his body started at his broad shoulders, tapered down into a tight waist, then flowed out into two powerful thighs. I tried not to notice when he ran his fingers through his thick blue-black waves and how they fell around his wickedly handsome face.
Nope. Wasn’t looking. I was going to cup my hands over my lust and sing, “lalala-can’t-hear-you,” because I knew better now. I simply needed to remind myself of the night before and the unforgettable humiliation of being rejected, not to mention he was death personified.
“How do you know you’re not killing good people?” I argued. “And what about redemption? What about people making mistakes and deserving second chances?”
“That’s a very altruistic perspective, and sweetly naïve, Emma, but the difference between good and evil is easier to determine than you think. Sadly, you would never understand such a thing because you’re just a human. You can’t see into their souls like I can.”
“I’m not just a human. Remember? But I guess you’re right—the numbers don’t really matter, it’s simply what you are that disgusts me.”
“Disgusts you?” His face lit up with resentment, and for once I wasn’t so sure it was a good idea to push his buttons. Oh—wait. Yes, it was. It would be easier to get him to let me go.
“Yes. I can’t be around a killer. I want out, Guy. I want my life back, and you have no right to continue hijacking it under the guise of protecting me. You have no right to make me share your sick little world!”
He crossed the room and stood boldly in front of me, glowering down. “Don’t I? Don’t I have every right if it’s for the greater good?” The air around us radiated with his energy.
“Holding me hostage and keeping the truth from me, is that for the greater good? Or controlling me with fear to feed that gargantuan ego of yours?”
“I’d never do that. I always put my responsibilities first. I’ve always put you first,” he growled.
“Is trying to remove Tommaso from my life for the greater good, too? Is it!? Because I’m pretty damned sure that falls into the category of just plain old jealously.”
“Oh. I see. This is all about him, isn’t it?” he scathed.
“Did you get Tommaso assigned to Siberia?”
“Maybe.” Guy crossed his arms.
“Afraid of a little competition?”
Guy’s eyes narrowed. “I simply didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“You arrogant, bloated—the only one who’s hurt me is you!”
“You know, Emma, I didn’t create you, or the Maaskab. I’m not the bad guy, and this victim-of-Guy crap is getting pretty old.”
“I’m glad you agree because there’s nothing more pathetic than an ancient, blood-thirsty deity who feels the need to control a scared young woman whose only flaw is being born with the wrong bloodline—”
“You’re just bitter because of last night,” he said with a raised voice. “But, you never let me explain—”
“You’re right,” I snapped. “I am bitter. Someone I love very much was taken from me, and I still don’t know why!” Did I mean Grandma, Tommaso, or…Guy who’d rejected me? All three? I was so confused! “Now those psychos want to hurt me and the rest of my family. You—you keep me in the dark about everything, even though you promised me answers. Even after I endured years of being branded a freak, because of you! And now, well, stupid me! I’m bitter because I’d started to believe in you. That you had a heart and even, call me crazy, genuinely cared about me. But now I see it clearly. You don’t care about anyone.”
Guy’s jaw muscles tightened, his bright turquoise eyes undulated with ripples of black. “That’s not true, I’ve given you my oath to look after you—“
“Really?” I screamed. “That’s what you call it? Well, then why am I still sitting here, heartbroken and wondering what happened to my grandmother? Why can’t you tell me what you know? And why are sending away Tommaso, the one person I trust?”
His eye ticked.
That made him mad. Good.
“Sometimes,” he growled, “withholding information is for your own good. Why make you suffer for that which you cannot change?”
“Because I need to know the truth! And if treating me like a child is your version of looking after me, I don’t want your protection.”
“You ungrateful—”
“This ends right now,” I interrupted. “I don’t want you in my life. I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
“You’re just angry, but if you just let me—”
“No. It’s over. I don’t want your protection. Do you hear me? I. Don’t. Need. You.”
The room was so silent that I could hear his blinding fury vibrating through the air. His face was as hard as stone.
Then, I recited, “Kaacha’al lu’um, tumben k’iin,” the words Tommaso taught me and braced for his divine wrath.
Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT
Guy’s first thought was that he wanted to take the woman and finally give her that spanking he’d always dreamed of. She was whiny, hotheaded, and too naïve for her own good. She was also filled with a delightful, fiery, unstoppable life force and would stand up to anyone, even the most powerful being on the planet. Even one whose gift was killing.
So brave. So full of light. Adorable.
His second thought was how badly he wanted her to understand. If he could get her to calm down, he could start explaining how things worked in his world. For gods, mankind came first. Responsibility came first. He truly didn’t mean to hurt her, but something about Tommaso made him uneasy. Maybe he simply wasn’t good enough for her. But then again, no one was.
But Guy had been ready to tell her everything, including why he’d rejected her; he felt she deserved the truth. But when she broke the bond, something snapped. It wasn’t simply the hit to his male ego—because, yes, he’d never been rejected in such a monolithic manner—it was the excruciating pain as she ripped her essence away. A piece of their souls dwelled inside the other. That’s how the bond, the link, was formed. Severing something so strong was like cracking an atom. His atoms.
Worst of all, was the giant gaping hole left behind. Her light was the only piece of him that felt peaceful and warm. Without this tiny fragment of Emma, he was just a savage, a coldhearted deity.
“You’re always so full of surprises, my sweet.” He reached out and roughly stroked the light copper spirals that framed her delicate face and vibrant dark green eyes—eyes that were, at the moment, filled with a cocktail of anger and lust.
She turned her head away from him.
“Can’t you feel it now?” he said in a low voice. “The emptiness? You. Need. Me.”
“No. You’re a killer, a demon. You forced yourself into my life and don’t ever forget it.”
“Emma, I am the darkness that makes light possible. I kill because someone has to destroy those born soulless and evil, those who rape, murder, and breed darkness. And for this, you reject me? Judge me? You have no clue what I’ve endured, what I’ve sacrificed for humanity.”
Her gaze was white hot. “No. I don’t. But how could I? You never tell me anything!”
“Because I want to shield you from such drudgery. But trust me—I have given everything!” His anger quickly spiraled as more of Emma’s calming essence abandoned him, returning to her.
Guy pushed her against the wall, pinning her with his hard body. “Say it again, Emma,” he snarled in her ear. “Say it, God dammit. Say you don’t need me to keep those Maaskab from finding you and tearing out your heart, or keeping them from killing your family. Say. It. Because without the bond, without me, you’re as good as dead—just like Gabriela.”
She tightened her lips and ground her teeth before stiffly turning her head to meet his smoldering glare. “I will never fucking need you. You’re nothing but a medieval bastard. The Uchben will still protect me. Tommaso will protect me.”
Guy could feel her slipping farther away, and his savage side becoming more dominant. He could take no more. He pulled back his body a fraction of an inch and pinned her arms above her head to peer into her eyes. Her pupils were wide and inviting.
Yes. Lust and anger, matching his own, he thought. He could smell the intoxicating cocktail of emotions wafting from her skin.
He sucked in a deep breath wanting to pull some piece of her, any piece of her back inside him. Thoughts of their bare, sweaty flesh sliding against each other flashed in his mind. He felt his cock stiffen and his human like body flood with need. “Tell me, Emma.” He exhaled into her ear, then ran his lips down her neck. “Tell me that you don’t need me, that you don’t want me.”
He moved his mouth to that sensitive spot just below her earlobe. “Tell me you don’t ache to have my tongue inside your mouth, licking every inch of your body. That you don’t want the tip of my hard cock slipping inside you, dipping in and out, until I break you of that horrible, distasteful attitude of yours. Tell me you don’t want me to fill you over and over again, making you come so hard that I brand myself in your mind. That after I’ve made you swollen from riding you for hours, how you abhor the thought of me taking you slowly, slipping between your hot thighs until you moan one last time and convulse underneath me. Say you don’t want it, little virgin, say it.”
Her body collapsed against him, but Emma’s eyes were shut tight, her face a fortress of flushed turmoil.
No female could resist the potent pheromones radiating from his body; it was one of his best tricks of the trade. Even better than his voice or the categorical perfection of his male form. All he had to do was focus and his body turned into a seduction factory. He could hypnotize an entire city block of women with it if he wanted. This was how he would get Emma to return the bond, to need him again like he needed her. Oh, yes. He could already smell her pungent desire leaking from every pore in her body, from between her legs. Each molecule vibrated with one unified message: “I want you,” they said.
“I. Don’t. Want. You.” Emma panted.
What? Guy slammed his fist past her head and into the wall. Stubborn woman! She was driving him mad. And she was lying.
“You’ll regret saying that,” he growled.
“Go ahead.” She lifted her chin. “Hurt me. I know you’re not capable of anything else.”
He took several calming breaths to get a hold of himself. What was he doing? He didn’t need her. He didn’t need anyone. As painful as it was for him to go back to his old self, it did give him back his freedom. Freedom from this painful neediness for a human. No. This is good, he thought. I’ve lived all but twenty-two years of my existence without being bonded to Emma. I’ll be heartless, never again know peace, but fine.
He gathered himself together, burying his pain. I still need to protect her. I still need her help. He suddenly felt drained, like someone had pulled the plug from his body and every ounce of energy had been ripped away. His heart ached. His head throbbed. He wanted to simply wither away quietly. Alone. Facing eternity as the coldhearted God of Death and War.
Her eyes flipped open and her gorgeous mouth held a wicked smile. “It’s your move, Mr. War and Death. The bond is broken, and I’m not putting up with your bully tactics any longer. I’m not your plaything and if you ever cared for me, even one tiny arrogant cell in your pea-sized brain, you’d let me go.”
“Fine. You win,” he said, removing his grip. “You’re on your own. I only ask you do one thing.”
“What?” She remained against the wall, holding herself upright.
“Remember when I told you in the car that the other gods are trapped in the cenotes?”
She nodded yes.
He shoved his hands through his hair. “We need you to go back to Mexico and free them
.”
Her expression was unreadable and without the bond, he couldn’t sense her emotions like before. Was she frightened or just angry?
“Are you serious?” she responded. “That place is crawling with Scabs.”
“You were able to free me, so you can free them, too. There is no one else to do it.”
“I almost drowned, Guy,” she protested.
“We’ll take precautions, but I need the other gods free, Emma. I can’t coordinate the Uchben, hunt Cimil, and take care of the Maaskab by myself. It’s ultimately your choice. But know if you don’t do this, women will continue being stolen from their families and slaughtered. Your family will continue to be in danger.”
“Sure. No pressure. Can I ask you something?”
Guy nodded.
“Did you ever care about me? Or was it always about this?”
“Emma, I care. More than you’ll ever know. But you’re right to push me away. I’m a coldhearted being, incapable of truly caring for anyone. As soon as this is over, you shall be free from me.”
Chapter TWENTY-NINE
Adrenaline shot through every crack and crevice of my smoldering body. He had each one of my cells aching for him. Yes. I wanted him. So badly it almost split me in two and left me hollow. It took every ounce of strength in my quaking body to lie to him. But I couldn’t allow him to further his dangerous, emotional strangle-hold on me. I needed it to end because I needed to belong—lock, stock, and barrel—to one person and one person only: me.
That’s what I believed, anyway, until I spouted off that phrase, breaking our bond. Afterward, I felt anything but free. It felt like a piece of me had been ripped away. Empty.
Why didn’t he feel the same? How could he go from a chest-pounding, feral, seduction machine to Mr. Cool-As-A-Cucumber? Because our link was meaningless to a deity like him. He had plenty other humans he was bonded to, according to Tommaso.
Yes. I’d made the right decision. It had to be this way.
“Fine. I accept. Oh, and there are two conditions.”
Accidentally in Love With...a God? Page 18