The Grey God (War of Gods 4)

by Lizzy Ford

  And now, two gateways were open again, and the immortals readying the human world for another battle.

  “No,” he said. “I’m the Gatekeeper. I manage who and what comes through these gates. I’m responsible for you—and them—fucking up my world. Which means, I’ll let no one through who can fuck up my world.”

  “We would remove them.”

  “I can remove them now. I don’t need your help,” Darian said and turned away.

  “You said you’d help us!” the Watcher said sharply.

  “I’ll help you by getting rid of them. That’s what you said you wanted. Or is this another Watcher riddle?”

  The Watcher was quiet. As Darian suspected, the small creature was unwilling to reveal its true intentions.

  “You can’t do what we can,” the Watcher said finally. “You can’t stop them without us.”

  “You can’t find them without me. At least I know where they are.”

  “And when they strike?”

  “I won’t give them that chance. I’ll find their gateway and hunt them down one by one.”

  “You will find yourself short on time, ikir.”

  “Maybe. But since I am the Gatekeeper, that’s my concern, not yours,” Darian said firmly.

  “You don’t want us to leave you to your fate with them! You can’t stop what comes!”

  “Yeah, I do want you to leave. All of you. Go back to the immortal world. Attack the Others there. I’ll clean house here.”

  The Watcher winked out of existence. Darian cursed at it under his breath, knowing it hadn’t done what he said. He looked at the portal. Even if he couldn’t close it, there had to be a way to monitor it, or he’d never be able to manage the gateways.

  His body seized suddenly, and he dropped to his knees, doubled over. Pain flew threw him, scrambling his thoughts. For a moment, he didn’t know who or where he was. Darkness swallowed him before he could figure it out.

  Tucson, Arizona

  Near the White God’s former headquarters

  The guardsman materialized out of the dark, moonlight glinting off the metallic purple symbol on his back. He approached what had been one of many former safe houses belonging to the White God near the base of the Tucson Mountains. The building had been burnt to the ground, and the guardsman began the process of sifting through the ashes. His masters only needed one small token of the body that had been burned here. Something as small as a piece of hair or a tooth—anything that the soul of the dead immortal might still cling to.

  The desert around him was quiet and the sky overhead clear. It stretched for miles, littered with stars brighter than any he’d ever seen. He found himself stretching his head back to take in the view. The stars didn’t shine quite so bright in the immortal world, and the sky didn’t seem as endless.

  If he didn’t find what he sought, there might not be an immortal world anymore. The guardsman lowered his gaze to the ashes as he began digging in earnest. Duty replaced his fascination with the mortal world.

  His masters wouldn’t be pleased if he came back with nothing. This time, it wasn’t them he feared. Rumors spread through the guardsmen of a second Schism, one that would finish what the first started. The first tore the two worlds apart; the second would destroy one of them. It wouldn’t be his world, not if he found the seemingly innocuous token his masters sent him to find.

  He remained throughout the night, crawling on his hands and knees to sift through the debris. Glass bit into his skin. Ashes and dirt sullied his uniform and made him sneeze. Still, he searched. It wasn’t until dawn crested the horizon that he smelled the unmistakable scent of blood. He dug deeper into the pile of cement blocks and ashes before him. At long last, he found the object.

  Flecks of blood remained on the carbon fiber bullet. It was the bullet of a Guardian, for only carbon fiber bullets would kill the vamps in the mortal world. The guardsman hesitated, not sensing the soul of the dead immortal despite the blood.

  It was all he’d found. His gaze went over the area again then to the sun. He was running out of time. If this was enough, his masters could get to work immediately. If it wasn’t, they’d beat him and send him back.

  It all boils down to a matter of minutes, he’d heard his masters saying. We only need a few to disrupt the Watchers’ plan.

  He’d risk a beating, if his masters thought a few minutes would save their world. He placed the bullet in a small pouch at his waist and left the ruins, dusting himself off. His gaze went to the sunrise, a brilliant display of reds and oranges over the desert. He couldn’t help hoping he saw this strange, new mortal world again, and the rumors spreading throughout the ranks of guardsmen were just that—rumors. The colors and sensations of the immortal world were richer on the senses, but the mortal world seemed raw, untamed.

  Traveling to the portal between worlds, the guardsman took one last look around then dropped through the gateway to the immortal world. He gripped the pouch with its precious cargo. One day, he might tell his children about the mortal world, how wild it was, before his masters destroyed it to save his world.

  Darian opened his eyes. The cave was dark. He was curled up on the cold floor. He hadn’t had one of the attacks in a few days. He’d had them frequently when Sofi freed him from the Black God. For months, he’d black out several times a day and wake up somewhere else, usually with the room around him in shambles.

  At least he couldn’t destroy the rocky cave. He glanced around and pushed himself up. The point where Watchers entered the world was not the best place to pass out. He was lucky he hadn’t been killed after telling them off.

  With a shiver, Darian Traveled back to the cabin he’d claimed. His head throbbed and his body ached, as if he’d flung himself against the rocky wall. He took a hot shower to soothe the muscle aches and stood in the hot water, letting it run over him.

  He hadn’t wanted to think about the blackouts when he’d told Damian he was leaving. He’d hoped they’d be manageable. Standing alone in the shower, he realized just how closed he’d come to his own death. If the Watchers hadn’t needed him alive for some reason, they’d have killed him as he lay helpless and seizing in their cave.

  Three lives down, he told himself. He roused himself, unwilling to sink into the dark thoughts. Darian exited and dressed in all black, arming himself with knives.

  Now that he had a place and knew what the Watchers wanted, he could focus on his next item of business: finding and killing a few Others.

  Darian Traveled back to Damian’s, arriving in the gym. The creature he sought was lifting weights, and bristled as Darian appeared.

  “Fine.” Charles, the vamp Hunter Damian traded for Jenn, rose with a growl.

  “I can sense them but need to know I’m right,” Darian said. “This time, we can kill them.”

  “Ikir Damian said—”

  “I’m a god, too, vamp. You can disappear if you get scared,” Darian snapped.

  The vamp growled again and flung down the free weights. He stalked to the locker room and returned a few minutes later, armed and dressed. His eyes glowed red. Darian sensed the vamp’s unease despite the bravado. No one normal would challenge an Other.

  “Find one,” Charles ordered.

  Darian concentrated hard. He felt the Others and the Watchers. He wasn’t sure how, but some part of him knew the difference. The closest of the immortals was a Watcher, and there were Others congregated somewhere. By the strength of their presence in his mind, they weren’t close.

  “How do I get to them?” he asked.

  “You let the magic guide you. Find one, focus on him, and let your power do its job,” Charles answered.

  “I see a whole bunch in one area. Seems like somewhere we’d like to be,” Darian reasoned.

  “No, don’t—” Charles’ warning was swallowed as Darian relaxed enough for his magic to carry them to the Others.

  Darian opened his eyes and looked around, surprised to find the location familiar. They weren’t far
from the Black God’s mountain fortress. Darian was thigh deep in snow, though the storm had stopped and the half-moon was out and bright.

  Charles whipped out his weapons, and Darian soon saw why. Three Others with glowing purple eyes stood several feet away, frozen in surprise.

  “Hi,” Darian said, striding towards them. “My name is Darian, and I’m the Grey God.”

  “Fucking idiot, son of a—” Charles hissed under his breath.

  “We know who you are,” one of the Others replied.

  “Then you know why I’m here,” Darian said. He stopped a short distance from the one who spoke and drew a knife.

  “That we do not.”

  “I’m here to send you home. Or kill you. Your choice.”

  There was a short silence, then the Other he addressed chuckled.

  “Neither of those things are possible, Guardian.”

  “Charles, step back,” Darian said.

  Still cursing him, the vamp obeyed and scrambled away. The Others looked at him in curious amusement. Darian sensed at least one gathering its magic to shred him from the inside out. He tried to remember what Sofi had told him about his magic.

  Relax. Let it come to you.

  He’d fought the advice for as long as he could remember. Whenever he loosened his grip on his power, he felt it respond. He feared what it could do, that he couldn’t control it. However, if attacked by Others, he preferred to level everything around them than take the chance he was the only one killed.

  “In the name of the White God, Damian, and the Black God, Jonny, I banish you from the mortal earth,” he said. “Let’s not make this hard on anyone.”

  “I am no longer amused,” the Other before him said.

  Purple magic arced from his body and slammed Darian into a tree. He grunted as he dropped into the snow. The blow hurt, but he was no stranger to pain.

  “Now, my turn,” Darian said.

  The Other glowed purple-black in the night, and more lightning streaked towards Darian. The Grey God pulled his own power and used it to deflect, ducking away from the sizzling strike meant to rip him apart. Instead of waiting for the Other to attack again, Darian spun and plunged his knife into the creature’s belly.

  “Foolish creature. That does not work … on … us.” The Other’s words slowed, and the creature looked down at the protruding weapon.

  Darian followed his gaze, not smelling or seeing blood. The magic around the Other fizzled. Without another word, the creature dropped. Surprised, Darian stared at the motionless body, waiting for it to spring up and attack him. When it didn’t, he looked to the remaining two Others, who stared at him in shock.

  “One down, two to go,” he said and bent to retrieve the knife.

  Purple magic seized him, bound him, and lifted him into the air. It slammed him between trees and sizzled through his blood. He felt as if he was burning up from the inside out.

  I know pain, and this is nothing, he chanted to himself, waiting for them to release him so he could attack. He smelled the scent of his own skin and hair burning. Still he waited. They’d have to drop him eventually, even if it was to Travel elsewhere. When they did, he’d attack.

  He could kill them. It had taken a team of Guardians—including two Original Beings—to kill the last Other. But he’d done it on his own. It was easier than killing a vamp.

  His body afire, Darian belted out a laugh of pain-filled triumph. The game was now his.

  Chapter Three

  The commotion in the forest drew Jenn and those vamps near her towards it. She’d been sleeping somewhat well beside the panoramic window when purple light lit up the foyer. She’d pulled on her boots and snatched her backpack before she was half awake, running towards the door. Vamps poured out of the fortress into the snow, stopping to puzzle over the brilliant purple lights lancing across the treeline.

  “Xander! Jenn!” Jonny’s voice was young and raw again. “What is it?” He shoved his way through the vamps and joined her.

  “Stay here, Jonny,” she heard herself say as she started forward. She stopped, angry at herself for trying to protect the boy who was no longer a boy. “I’m sorry. You may want to send a few vamps out that way. I’ll go ahead, unless you prefer I don’t?”

  “No, go. I’ll send a team after you,” he said quickly.

  “Jonny, send Xander.” Her gaze went to the sky, and she assessed the sight she’d never seen before. The magic in the air crackled around them even from the distance.

  Rather than risk Traveling to the center of the phenomenon, Jenn ran down the driveway the vamps had cleared of snow to the narrow country road leading up the mountain to the Black God’s hideout. She trotted until she was parallel to the lights then plunged into the deep snow, forcing her way into the forest.

  Ten minutes of walking later, she crouched beneath the lowest branch of a massive pine tree and inched her way to the scene. Her gaze fell first to the vamps Jonny must’ve sent who made the mistake she’d avoided. Their bodies were torn to shreds where they’d appeared from Traveling. Another vamp was suspended in a tree, pinned by purple-white lightning arcing from the hand of a small creature she recognized as an Other.

  Jenn eased back, not about to draw the creature’s attention, not for the sake of a few stupid vamps. Her gaze followed the lightning emanating from the second Other’s body. She barely recognized the body being slung between trees. Half his face was burned beyond recognition, but the other half …

  Darian, you fool!

  “Shit!” she muttered. Jenn reached for her weapons. She had knives and the guns with carbon fiber bullets that she used to kill vamps. It’d do nothing to an Other but aggravate him. Her mind raced as she sought some way to save Darian. At last, she realized she had no real advantage.

  “Others.” Jonny’s voice was filled with awe.

  She jumped, surprised to find the Black God a couple of feet behind her, staring at the scene.

  “Jonny, you shouldn’t …” The words died on her lips. “Where’s Xander?”

  “I don’t know. Hunting, maybe.”

  “Bastard is always around when I don’t need him and never around when I do. Then we’ll have to do this the stupid way. We need to distract them so I can rescue Darian.” She crawled forward. The Black God snatched her ankle, dragging her back.

  “You can’t leave me,” he said.

  “I’m not leaving you,” she snapped and yanked free. “I’m going to take Darian home to Damian and come back.”

  “No. I won’t let you go.”

  “Then you can take Darian to Damian and try to explain how you didn’t fuck up his brother. Good luck getting him to believe you,” she said with calmness she didn’t feel.

  Jonny frowned but didn’t object again.

  “Now, can you make those trees behind the Others fall on them?” she asked.

  “I think so.”

  “Do it.”

  The Black God’s power swelled, stifling the air around them. She pushed herself away discreetly, not yet certain he knew what to do with all of the magic in his blood. Splintering and groaning filled the air, followed by muffled crashes as the trees behind the Others toppled into the snow. When Jenn saw Darian drop from the air she launched forward.

  “Jenn!” Jonny hissed.

  The ground shook, and suddenly, all the trees around them began falling. Jenn dodged one and saw the flash of purple from the corner of her eye. She threw herself into the snow, watching the lightning slice the air where she’d been. With effort, she forced herself up and threw a dagger in the direction of the Other. More trees fell. She clambered over one and landed beside Darian, who smelled like burnt flesh.

  “Darian!” she exclaimed, rolling him onto his back. “Say something!”

  “I… got … one,” he managed. He tried to push himself up. Jenn yanked him against her, taking in his burned profile.

  “You missed the other two!” she retorted.

  As long as he was alive, she could Tr
avel with him. She closed her eyes and imagined them home in Texas. A gasp made her eyes open, and she looked around the kitchen. Jule’s mate, Yully, was frozen before the open fridge, her eyes wide and red curls bound loosely at her neck.

  “Go get Bianca,” Jenn ordered, struggling out from Darian’s weight. Yully hurried away.

  “I … got … one,” he repeated. His head lolled back, and his eyes closed. Before he passed out, he released what sounded like a hoarse laugh.

  “Crazy son of a bitch!”

  Jenn looked up as a familiar vamp materialized in the kitchen. She recognized him as Charles, the vamp Damian had gotten in exchange for sending her to the Black God. His arm was bloodied and burned. He dropped to the ground beside them.

  “What did this?”

  At the sound of a new voice, Jenn pushed herself to her feet as Damian slammed the door to the kitchen open.

  “He went after Others,” Charles supplied.

  “Bianca!” the White God bellowed into the hallway. He turned his attention to Jenn. “Help me carry him down the hallway.”

  Jenn obeyed and hefted Darian’s shoulders as Damian took his ankles. They maneuvered Darian’s body through the doorway and into the living room, where they deposited him on the couch.

  Jenn’s gaze lingered on the unconscious man’s body. She admired his bravery but wished he had more sense.

  “You okay?” Damian asked, glancing up at her.

  “Yeah. I gotta go, before Jonny hunts me down,” she said and turned away.

  Damian caught her arm. “No, really, are you okay?”

  “I’m alive. Less than two weeks ’til I can come home, ikir,” Jenn said, looking away. While she’d been one of the original Guardians to escape the immortal world with Damian, she’d also been at the bottom of the totem pole, once the Guardians in the mortal world rallied around their White God. She’d never felt as comfortable around him as she did Dusty.