The Black God (#2, Damian Eternal Series)

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The Black God (#2, Damian Eternal Series) Page 15

by Lizzy Ford

“’Bout time,” he complained and got to his feet. “I got nothing else out of him. What did you find?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said in a strained voice. “What orders did Charles give next?”

  “He got cut off. They were fighting last I heard up on the –”

  She whirled and sprinted through the hallways of the underground bunker. Ashley took the stairs two at a time and dashed into the open bay. The dark side remained silent. Her emotions close to breaking, she raced to the doors dividing the warehouse in two and pulled one open. Stepping into the north bay, it took all of two seconds for her to figure out Charles and his remaining four men had been captured by around thirty vamps.

  She needed to dance, to keep active, to block the fear and guilt about to break over her and prevent her from doing anything but crying for her brother. Ashley did the only thing she knew to do. With an infuriated battle cry, she launched at the vamps approaching her. She began to fight. This time, she didn’t care about holding back her weapons or moves to spare the lives of those around her. This time, she fought to kill.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jonny checked his phone the second Charles reported in. The vamp was late, but Charles was only late when there was an issue. Expecting the usual long report, Jonny frowned when he read the four words Charles had sent instead.

  You better come now.

  Jonny scanned reports coming into the makeshift command center to ensure his other teams weren’t in trouble in before Traveling to the location he’d given Charles. By and large, their first night dedicated to raids was successful. Two of the five places they hit had been hideouts for the rogues. A third was a backup safehouse that appeared unused and the other two already abandoned. Jonny would happily take three out of five and call it a victory.

  The vamp he materialized near jumped and then stepped aside. Ten rogue vamps lay dead on the ground in front of the entrance of the warehouse with two of his vamps posted as guards.

  “North bay,” the vamp beside him said. “Charles is expecting you. Cut through the warehouse, ikir.”

  Jonny strode forward into the darkened side of the warehouse, aware of his vamps stationed periodically along the way. When he entered the lighted half, he slowed. Charles had two vamps with him, but it was the carnage that caught his attention.

  Jonny was at first surprised then pleased to see three dozen dead rogues before him, until he saw who sat in the middle of them, her head bowed and frame shaking. The sight of Ashley alone and trembling made something twist inside of him. He canned the emotion. He had too much to lose as it was without letting his feelings cloud his judgment.

  “What happened?” he asked without lifting his eyes from her.

  “I don’t know,” was the quiet reply. “Your little Natural just went crazy and started killing everyone. We helped, of course.”

  “Ashley doesn’t kill.”

  “She did tonight.”

  Something’s wrong.

  “We’ve searched everywhere and found nothing here. No reason for there to be wards or so many of them located in one place. I suspect Valon was here but slipped away before we arrived,” Charles continued.

  “Get everyone back to Virginia. Pick up dinner along the way,” Jonny ordered.

  “You got her? My Taser’s missing.”

  Jonny snorted. “Yeah. I’m good.” He waited for Charles to move away before he ventured into the killing field. Jonny picked his way through the dead, attention on Ashley. She was soaked with vamp blood; even her hair dripped with it. Any doubt he had about her killing was gone by the time he reached her. Her knives were at her side, and her arms wrapped around a shoebox. Concern fluttered through him, no matter how hard he wanted not to feel anything.

  “Ash,” he said quietly. Unafraid of her, he nonetheless knew when a wounded animal required a softer approach than he would usually consider. He crouched close enough to see her features, not about to touch her if she was close to exploding. “Ashley. Are you ready to leave?”

  She shifted and lifted her head. Her eyes were haunted and her features tight. “He was here.”

  “Who?”

  She wordlessly handed him the shoebox she’d been clutching. Jonny smelled the blood before he opened it and saw the severed hand. He nudged the top off the ring box next and observed the body parts before him, unaffected by the gruesome sight or knowledge they were pieces of her brother. He had hardened himself to violence and what his people were capable of.

  “Do you think they can sew it back on?” she whispered.

  “No, Ash, I don’t.”

  She nodded as if expecting the answer. “We have to find him, Jonny.”

  “We will.” In that moment, he was surprised to realize how serious he was. Brandon had been a side mission to him. One life wasn’t going to outweigh the future of his vamps. Witnessing Ashley’s tortured look, however, left him feeling cold inside.

  “We better go.” Gathering her knives, she pushed herself to her feet with effort.

  Jonny rose as well. “You okay?”

  “Does it matter?”

  It shouldn’t. “You’re in shock, Ash.”

  “I’m just tired.”

  Jonny didn’t argue. He had seen shell shocked vamps before, usually when they were new to the organization. Hell, he had spent his first two years in a state of shock and disbelief. Such phases normally didn’t end well without intervention. Of everything he had on his plate, walking Ashley through this wasn’t a task he had planned for.

  “C’mon. Let’s get back,” he said and held out his hand.

  Her gaze lingered on it. She put her weapons away and accepted his offer. Jonny Traveled back to the Virginia hideout and materialized outside of her room. She released him and pushed her door open.

  “No chain tonight?” she asked acidly.

  “Get cleaned up. I’ll wait.”

  She didn’t acknowledge him and slammed the door.

  Jonny glanced down at the boxes he carried. He had a feeling tossing them wasn’t something Ashley was ready for. Keeping them wasn’t particularly appealing but neither did he blink at the thought of keeping severed body parts in his fridge. The smell was irritating, the scent of human blood detectable to his sensitive nostrils no matter where he stood in his suite.

  He Traveled to the kitchen in his suite and left the boxes in the fridge before returning to Ashley’s room.

  Charles was present smelling of sweat and vamp blood. “New Taser,” he said and lifted the device.

  Jonny wanted to smile but didn’t. His second’s methods had definitely made an impact on Ashley. Charles was shrewd like that, another reason Jonny trusted him. “I got it tonight,” he said. “She’s not coping well.”

  “The other raids were successful?”

  “Very,” Jonny replied. “No sign of Valon, but with the massacre at the warehouse, we took out over a hundred of his vamps tonight.”

  “He won’t take that well.”

  “I’m counting on him finding me at some point,” Jonny said confidently. “I’m pulling Ashley off the raids.”

  Charles studied him. “May I speak my opinion freely, ikir?”

  Jonny gave a single nod of his head.

  “If she fights like she did tonight, she’s more effective than an entire raid party.”

  Jonny crossed his arms.

  “I will always defer to your decision, ikir,” Charles added. “She’s undisciplined and barely understands how to work on a team. She is, in every way, a potential liability.”

  “You just said you want her to go back out.”

  “You should know the risk before you decide. She did what would take ten of my vamps to do and in a quarter of the time. She killed most of the vamps you saw and all of the ones you didn’t see in the bunker,” Charles continued. “I want her because she’s the best fighter we have, possibly the best fighter the Guardians have, too. But I know putting her out there also attracts more danger. Using her is high
risk.”

  “We’re used to high risk situations.”

  “I don’t mean high risk to us, ikir.”

  It dawned on Jonny that his second was uncharacteristically dancing around a topic rather than outright addressing it. “If you think I am influenced by Xander or anyone else to spare her, I am not,” he said, perturbed. “I’ve done what was fair.”

  “You’ve done what was best for everyone involved, as always,” Charles agreed. “The men understand after tonight why you spared her. She saved their lives and mine. They don’t question you or your actions. Neither do I. That said, you are entitled to protect your best asset when you feel the situation warrants it. You’re entitled to be a little selfish sometimes.”

  “There’s no room for my selfishness,” Jonny snapped.

  Charles didn’t so much as blink. “Be that as it may, you should know the risk to her before you send her out again.”

  “I’ll consider your advice as always, Charles, and I’ll act in such a way as benefits my people.”

  Charles bowed his head.

  “Go eat and rest,” Jonny said.

  Charles went without another word.

  Jonny watched him. His second had never ventured out of his lane to advise him, and Jonny didn’t quite know what to think of it. He owed Ashley nothing more than he promised, and his responsibility was always first and foremost to his vamps.

  Yet it sounded like Charles was telling him no one would fault him if his interest in Ashley became … personal. Whatever she’d done this night had been incredible if she managed to change the stance of a hardened vamp like Charles on a mere Natural.

  I don’t do personal involvement, Jonny chanted, not for the first time. His concern for Ashley had to extend only to her usefulness to him. He resolved himself to this once more or at least, he thought he had, when she opened the door to her room.

  Ashley was pale. Her dark hair was wet and braided. A line of white pain lined her striking, luminous blue-gray eyes that always managed to pierce his best intentions and remind him how he’d once felt for her. He sensed the impending seizure and realized Charles was right. A night like this was high risk to Ashley in more than one way.

  She didn’t ask for help but in that moment, she didn’t need to. He reached for her instinctively and placed his palm along the warm skin of her neck, the only real exposed area where he could be skin-to-skin with her. It took little effort for him to stem the pain and seizure both.

  Ashley’s eyes closed, and she shuddered as both abated. Jonny pulled her gently against him. She didn’t resist. The moment her arms circled him, he wished she’d had. Her body was whispering its secrets even without biting her. She was fatigued, lost, scared, furious.

  He rested his chin on her head, listening to secrets he suspected she’d never want him to know.

  “You’re grounded tomorrow,” he said quietly.

  “No. I have to find Brandon.” She craned her neck back to meet his gaze.

  “You seizing up mid fight isn’t going to help anyone.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Like you are now?” he challenged. “You’re a liability in this condition.”

  The look of pure devastation crossing her features left him amused rather than concerned. Ashley had never been good at covering her emotions. He had learned to put distance between his feelings and himself in order to become a leader often faced with decisions that would crush someone who stopped to feel. Her innocent candor struck him as oddly endearing, a reminder of yet another way they had grown a part. She had the luxury of emotions. He was almost relieved she hadn’t lost what he had given up.

  “The answer is no,” he said firmly. “I’ll patch you up so you don’t have an episode, then you’ll take a day off to rest. If you’re in better shape after, you’ll join them again. If not, you’re grounded as long as it takes.”

  “I really hate you right now.” Her words were spoken without heat. Rather than strain to be free of him, she averted her gaze and rested her cheek against his chest.

  Her level of fatigue wasn’t about to discourage him from his dinner, either. If anything, he knew draining her some would knock her out faster. “You ready for this?” he asked and nudged her head aside.

  “Why not.” Her pulse quickened beneath the fingers resting on her neck. She stiffened automatically, as if waiting for him to bite her as he had several times before – hard enough to hurt her.

  But Jonny was gentle this night as last. He nuzzled her neck and breathed in her scent, aware of her hand tightening and twisting the material of his t-shirt. She hated the moment before he bit her. He relished it, the feel of her warmth, the simple intoxication of her smell, the hitch in her breathing that told him she was more affected by his touch than she let on.

  His teeth slid into her neck, and he held her against him. She relaxed in his arms when no pain came with the bite. She was a mess emotionally and physically. The flow of her emotions hit him harder this time, and her body was crying out for rest she insisted she didn’t need. Jonny assessed whether or not she was going to have a breakdown after her discovery at the warehouse or her sudden killing spree that followed. From what he could see in her mind, she had no regrets about the vamps – but she’d break if Brandon died.

  It bothered him to see the truth. He purposely hadn’t looked into the mind of anyone he fed from in years, and he recalled why. To see the emotions of another so intimately was to absorb them, and he didn’t want that, even with Ashley.

  He drank his fill and released a thrum of power into her as he finished.

  Ashley’s body responded instantly. She sagged in his arms, unconscious. Before he withdrew, he directed her mind not to awaken for a full twenty four hours or more, when she was rested and ready.

  Jonny tucked her into bed before Traveling to his room, where Charles waited. His second immediately held out the phone Jonny left there.

  “You might want to check this first,” he advised.

  Jonny accepted it. He expected bad news at every front anymore. There hadn’t been good news in … well, forever.

  D & D want to meet. Now. Our beach, Xander had typed.

  “Fuck me,” Jonny muttered. “The last thing I need right now is those assholes in my business.”

  “Valon’s vamps wiped out another forty humans today. We can expect him to retaliate tomorrow for the warehouse.”

  “I know, Charles. I get it. I need to go to Damian. It’s my duty to deal with him,” Jonny said unhappily. “I hate them judging me. I hate admitting something’s outside my control to people who already expect me to fail. I wanted the mess with the Others to be the last time I had to work with them.”

  “Ikir, the expectations of another have no influence over us unless we let them.”

  “I know.” Jonny rubbed his face. His glance went towards the fridge. “I gotta deliver some bad news anyway.”

  “I’ll let you know if we have any emergencies.” Charles said.

  Jonny Traveled to the beach where he routinely met Xander, expecting his audience to be waiting. Blond haired Damian and his older brother Darian had identical golden eyes, but that was where their similarities ended. Confident, alpha, blond-haired Damian was thick and muscular whereas brunet Darian’s frame was whip like and his temperament erratic at best.

  Xander stood a short distance from the two brothers, arms folded across his chest.

  Jonny stilled his emotions and approached. Charles was right. He had long since considered these men his equals – even if they weren’t on the same page yet.

  “Gentlemen,” he greeted them. “How can I help you?”

  Darian started to smile. Of the two brothers, he was Jonny’s preferred. The Grey God was in a position of balance, though his loyalty lay strictly with Damian. He had spent ten thousand years as a slave to the previous Black God and yet, he was much closer to neutral on the topic of vamps living in harmony with humans than the White God.

  Damian, howe
ver, wasn’t happy. His gold gaze held intelligence and a shrewdness Jonny knew to expect after their interactions.

  “Been cleaning up your messes,” Damian started, not one to beat around the bush. “Xander’s encouraged me to hear you out when I want nothing more than to send in my Guardians and wipe out your fucking vamps. Want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

  Jonny knew instinctively Damian would probably never admit it if they found his hackers in the database, but he doubted this was how Damian would lead off if so.

  “I have a rogue problem,” he started smoothly. “A few of my vamps don’t agree with my leadership direction and decided to act out.”

  “Few,” Darian snorted. “It takes more than a few for the massacre we saw today.”

  “Forty people, Jonny. Life for a life,” Damian reminded him.

  “If you go to this location, you’ll find over forty dead vamps,” Jonny said and texted Damian the location of the raid from earlier. “I’m cleaning house.”

  The Gods were silent, one suspicious, the other curious. Xander remained off to the side, watching.

  “How many?” Darian spoke first.

  Jonny’s jaw clenched. They’d probably figure it out quickly if he lied about the number. “We’ll just say seventy less than yesterday,” he replied shortly. “We had a good day house cleaning.”

  “Seventy?” Damian’s eyebrows shot up. “This isn’t a rogue problem, Jonny.”

  “All because of your catch-and-release program?” Darian asked.

  “The old guard wasn’t happy with change,” Jonny replied.

  “How many more are out there?” Damian demanded. “How many more deaths should I expect from your house cleaning?”

  Jonny was quiet for a moment, hating to admit the truth to them. Damian was giving him the I-knew-he-couldn’t-handle-it look while Darian appeared ready to laugh off the stupid kid in charge of the vamps.

  He reminded himself the insecurity he experienced around them was leftover from who he had been when he assumed the title of the Black God, not who he had become.

  “It’ll get worse before it gets better,” he replied finally.

 

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