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The Grey God (War of Gods 4)

Page 9

by Lizzy Ford


  “No need. I know you’ve changed. I’ve watched you turn into you. I’ve watched Jonny turn into the Black God.”

  He sensed there was more. “And … what?”

  “I don’t know. Gods know I’ve done stupid shit in my life and seen people from all walks of life. Call me naïve, but I spent most of my life around bad people who deserved what came to them. I don’t like seeing good people become unsalvageable,” she said with a shrug.

  “You think I’m unsalvageable?”

  “Jonny is. I don’t know about you yet.”

  Darian took this in. He didn’t consider what others might think of him, outside of his family. He didn’t think of himself as unsalvageable in the least. He would never be what he once was, but he wasn’t Jonny, headed down a dark path. He was headed down his own path, that of the Grey God, a creature that never existed before him.

  “We all make our choices,” he said, puzzled. “Or maybe this isn’t about me at all.”

  “There’s a station near here. I called in an order for some equipment. Should be there this evening.” Her gaze went north.

  Just like that, she was cool and professional again.

  “Wait,” he said and took her wrist.

  “Don’t touch me, Darian,” she warned and yanked away.

  “You’re just going to open a can of worms and walk away?”

  “We have work to do.”

  She pushed the location of the station into his mind then disappeared, Traveling without him. Darian lingered, unable to figure out exactly what was wrong. The cool, sexy Jenn he’d sparred with was incapable of being ruffled. Now, she was edgy and terse with him.

  He circled the portal once again, stalling, before finally Traveling to the nearby station. The two Guardians assigned to the small adobe house in the middle of a Mexican village stood out front with Jenn. The small town had only dirt roads, and his glanced lingered towards a farmers market under the awnings in the center, a couple of blocks away. The scent of barbacoa made his stomach rumble.

  The two large Hispanic Guardians glanced towards him when he entered the yard marked by a stone fence.

  “Darian, this is Chapo and Larry,” Jenn said as he approached. “Ikir Damian’s brother, Darian.”

  “A pleasure,” the man named Chapo said and shook Darian’s hand.

  “They’ve seen some guardsmen come through here,” Jenn told Darian.

  “We’ve adhered to Ikir’s mandate of no engagement, though we followed them around,” Chapo told Darian. “Looks like they were scouting the town. Came through twice a few days ago and haven’t seen them since.”

  “Might be a good thing Guardians are largely powerless,” Darian said. “You might’ve had some nasty visitors otherwise.” He couldn’t imagine waking up to find an Other sitting in the corner. He’d thought the Guardians’ loss of magic a curse until he started thinking about how the Others couldn’t sense a Guardian that had no magic.

  The Watchers blamed him for stripping the Guardians’ magic when he froze time, but he began to wonder if they hadn’t done it themselves. Whoever did it, it was working in the Guardians’ favor right now.

  “The team should be here soon,” Jenn said with a look at her watch.

  The tattooed Larry motioned for them to enter the one-story house. The village and exterior of the house looked run down and barely out of poverty, but the house’s interior was immaculate. Low-key, contemporary furnishings in light wood colors and pale neutrals were mixed with splashes of color: the navy blue rug, lime couch pillows, cinnamon drapes, and yellow floorboards. The open floor plan ran from the living area through a kitchen to a formal dining room area that had been converted into an office on the other side.

  “I love this place,” he said, intrigued by the colors. “All we need is some barbacoa.”

  The two Guardians gave him a curious look. Suspecting he’d missed something important, Darian joined them in the office area. Larry sat before a Mac, pictures of the portal on the computer screen before him.

  “We’ll set up cameras here and here,” Jenn said, indicating two spots on one photo.

  “Under the bushes,” Larry added. “We’ll have to check them every few days. The dust storms here can knock over trees.”

  “When did you take photos?” Darian asked.

  “At the site. I sent them to Larry,” Jenn replied.

  “Wow, you’re good.”

  Jenn eyed him, as if suspecting he was being sarcastic. He wasn’t. His normal way of doing business was to plan the best he could then leap in. He wasn’t lucky enough to get killed. Jenn took planning to another level, one he didn’t know was possible after so many years without technology. Sofi had taught him to use his cell phone and Dusty had taught him the computer. He’d been fascinated by the amount of technology Dusty and Jenn used to track vamps in Miami.

  “Motion sensors there,” Chapo added. “And the solar battery farther back. It’s big and ugly. They’ll see it otherwise.”

  “I called for the infrared cameras. We should have good night vision, too,” Jenn added. “You guys need someone else to help monitor?”

  “We got nothing going on with the mandate,” Larry answered. “We’re good.”

  “I’d say to monitor it for a couple of days and get a feel for any trends in time they enter and exit. Unless you have something you want them to look for, Darian?” She turned to him.

  “Nope. Sounds good.”

  “When the cameras get here, you’ll have to go with them to make sure there are no ugly surprises.”

  “Yes, ikira,” Darian replied.

  Jenn’s eyes narrowed.

  “Meant respectfully,” he added.

  “Watch it, ikir,” Larry said, smiling. “She’ll take you out.”

  “I imagine so,” Darian said. “I’ve pissed her off enough for one day.”

  “I’ve got to check in with Jonny,” Jenn said.

  “I’ll walk you back,” he said and held out his hand. He kept his voice casual. He was worried about her, more than he’d let on. She was too independent for him to voice his concerns for her. He thought she’d refuse him but she caved and took his hand.

  They Traveled to see Jonny pacing in front of Jenn’s window. She pulled loose from Darian and strode to him. Darian hung back and watched, arms crossed. The two spoke, and he felt Jenn’s magic in the air as she exerted what control she could over Jonny. The young god seemed in a good humor, though his gaze flickered nervously to the vamps awaiting him. After a short exchange, Jonny walked away, joining the vamps.

  They walked past Darian, with the Black God hesitating before continuing on. Darian watched them leave, not surprised Jonny didn’t approach. They’d been almost friends at one point, but they’d both change dramatically since the days of squabbling over cookies Jonny’s sister, Bianca, made.

  “He wants a daily headcount of how many Others you killed,” Jenn said, approaching him.

  “He can’t tell me that himself?”

  “That’s not the way he works. Basically, he trusts me fifty percent of the time, Xander fifty percent of the time, and no one else.”

  “I take it you and Xander don’t necessarily see eye-to-eye.”

  “It’ll be easier to get my way when Xander isn’t here,” she said with a faint smile. “It’s rough going toe-to-toe with an Original Being.”

  “You’re brave,” he said, genuinely impressed she’d attempt such a thing. “I like that.”

  “We’re both foolish.”

  “Speaking of which, I need to go set up monitoring shit and kill some Others.”

  Jenn raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask to accompany him this time. He suspected she was relieved he was leaving, even if he didn’t understand why.

  “Keep this. If something happens, I’ll contact you,” he said and handed her his phone.

  She took it. “I’d tell you to be careful, but I don’t think you’ll listen.”

  He smiled and closed his eyes to Tr
avel. He had some ideas to test about killing Others. When he figured out how to do it without also ending up dead, he’d figure out what had fallen between him and Jenn. First, the monitoring equipment.

  Jenn waited until he’d been gone for a few minutes, her thoughts more insistent than she wanted. Interacting with Darian was too appealing. He was easy to talk to, despite knowing his history and his elevation to a god. He listened and watched—traits that made her wary. She pocketed the cell, grateful for his consideration. After her two weeks in the Black God’s chaotic camp, she’d almost forgotten what it was like to be in an organization that took care of its own.

  Jonny was gone on another daytrip. She was growing suspicious of his frequent journeys. Nothing seemed to come out of them. At least, nothing she could see. He kept no notes on his computer about the mysterious meetings. He’d taken Xander with him twice. He never said where he was going aside from to town.

  Another thought pushed this one out. Before she talked herself out of it, she Traveled back to the Others’ portal into the immortal world. She’d recognized the orchard she’d nearly fallen into. The last time she saw it, it was on fire.

  Eyes on the ground, she retraced their steps until she found the circle she’d drawn. She stared at the ground in the center of the circle, emotions building within her. Normally, she was a master at hiding her feelings. These emotions had taken thousands of years to bury and were bubbling up again, too strong for her to ignore forever.

  She snagged a few small rocks from the ground and approached the portal, knife in her other hand. Jenn held her breath and jumped.

  She landed hard on the soft ground. The dry desert heat gave way to cool sea breeze, and a massive apple tree protected her from the sun overhead. Jenn rose warily, expecting the Others to pounce. No one was in the orchard but her.

  She circled the tree, placing rocks around its trunk as she went. Halfway around, she dropped again, emerging back into the desert a few feet from the other portal. Jenn grabbed more rocks and returned to the immortal world. Placing the rocks on the ground near the return portal, she looked around.

  If all was as it used to be, at one end of the orchard was the White God’s palace, a place a woman raised as a peasant had never seen. At the other end, the imperial city. She marveled at the immortal world. The colors were more intense, brighter, the air filled with the perfume of flowers.

  Jenn trotted through the orchard towards the city, energized by the plentiful magic in the world around her. Using magic in the mortal world was like trying to swim a channel with arms tied. She’d forgotten how hard the adjustment had been from immortal to mortal world. Here, magic emanated off of everything and filled her with its energy.

  The wall dividing the orchard from the city was the first thing she didn’t remember. Jenn climbed a tree close to the wall then leapt onto the top of the thick, marble wall. She crouched, catching sight of a guardsman several hundred feet away. The cuneiform symbols on his back were purple, marking him as a servant to the Others. She made sure he continued walking then swung herself over, dropping ten feet on the other side.

  What peace she’d found in the familiar orchard fled as she looked at the charred, crumbling ruins of the once great city that lay beyond the wall. Before his enslavement, Darian had reigned over the city, as had his forefathers.

  He wouldn’t recognize it now. She felt a pang of pain for him at the prospect of seeing what happened to the White God’s legacy in the immortal world. The destruction continued for miles without end, as far as she could see. The ashes had long since stopped burning, and the air was still filled with magic. Jenn stepped into the city, at once aware of the sorrow the place held. Unlike the mortal world, everything in the immortal world was alive, even the stones making up the buildings.

  She squatted beside a fallen statue of one of Darian’s forefathers. One eye still glowed gold, the telltale sign of those born into the White God’s family. She patted the statue, feeling the magic cling to her as she rose.

  The war between Others and Watchers had destroyed everything in this world, except for the orchard. She wondered what made it immune to the destruction.

  Uneasily, she realized this was what the war would do to the mortal world. Jenn hesitated, guilty she’d indulged herself to visit a place she shouldn’t instead of protecting the world she was sworn to preserve.

  But she didn’t look back. Not now. She was close to her goal. She trotted through the streets, making her way through rubble and debris to the park in the center of the city. She vaulted over a low stone wall, landing with a crunch in the dead grass on the other side. The park was over a mile on each side, hedged by a wall. There had been trees and bushes in her time, but none of them remained. Even the stone pathway winding through the stone obelisks was either buried in dirt or missing. Many of the stone obelisks were gone or broken.

  Her heart beat faster as she followed a familiar path through the obelisks. She stopped in front of one at last, taking in the cuneiform writing. Each obelisk listed the members of an immortal household and their offspring. Servants—which her father and mother had been—were listed on the House of their immortal lords. This immortal House had been somewhat lowly on the immortal totem pole, evidenced by the fact it was a third the height of most of the others.

  Jenn squatted to find the servants’ portion of the records. She wiped dirt from the grooves of the cuneiform.

  “Midu, Tanna,” she read the names of her parents out loud. Her gaze followed her finger as she rested it on her name below theirs. She touched the two names beside hers. “Finian, Talia.”

  The name of her long-dead daughter was the end of her family’s lineage. Thousands of years later, Jenn could still see her daughter’s brown eyes and curls. She released a deep sigh, finger lingering on the names from her past. For all her ability to manipulate the minds of others, she couldn’t push the memory of her family from her own thoughts. She’d buried them under the callus she’d grown around her emotions.

  She sat in front of the obelisk, staring at all that remained of her family history. The Schism hadn’t changed everything; she’d thrown everything away. Her marriage was arranged. Unable to love her husband, she’d taken it out on the one who meant the most to her, Talia.

  Pulling a knife free, she dug into the dry ground, not expecting to find the treasure she’d buried so long ago. To her regret, it was there: the leather necklace and its silver symbol that had marked her family line. She’d given it to Talia before she left then reclaimed it after the first wave of the Schism ripped through the Immortal world.

  Jenn didn’t let herself remember the sights and sounds of that day. No one knew the Schism was coming when she stormed out of the house that fateful morning. She’d left them both to pursue a position among the Guardians, so she could start a new life in the mortal world.

  “I got my wish,” she murmured.

  When the world began to crumble, she returned to find the house in ruins and the body of her dead daughter in the arms of her father-in-law. If she’d stayed, she might’ve died with them. Or maybe she could’ve saved them.

  I’ll never know. Sadness had long since waned, leaving only a hole that’d never be filled. She’d sworn never to be vulnerable again or to become emotionally involved with anyone.

  Darian and Jonny were cracks in her armor. She’d taken pity on both men who lost their own families and ended up feeling more than she ever wanted to again. She wasn’t about to go through losing someone she cared about or letting Darian go through his loss again.

  Feeling raw, Jenn rose. She retraced her steps until she reached the tall walls outside of the orchard. Scaling the wall once again, she dropped to her feet and was still for a long moment, using her senses to see if anyone was there. Though she sensed nothing, she’d never know an Other was there until he’d zapped her. She moved cautiously through the well-maintained orchard, back to the tree marked by the rocks.

  Her gaze flickered towards the other e
nd of the orchard, where the White God’s palace had been. She couldn’t see it through the rows of trees.

  Next time, she told herself and circled the tree. The ground dropped out from under her, and she arrived back into the mortal world. The loss of the magic from the immortal world made her feel slow and heavy as she took her first few steps. Though her trip had taken more than two hours on the immortal side, less than an hour had passed in the mortal world. She Traveled back to Jonny’s, appearing in her room.

  Wired and agitated, Jenn left for the gym. She stripped down in the locker room and tossed her shirt over the animal head in the bottom of her locker. Not caring how many vamps might be in the gym, she entered and took up her favorite spot and began channeling her emotions into the punching bag.

  Awhile later, someone’s voice broke her concentration.

  “Look what I got.”

  Jenn straightened, not yet ready to leave the gym. Her necklace felt cool against her warm chest, a reminder of a memory she wished she hadn’t reopened.

  “Five of them!” Darian’s voice held a note of triumph.

  She turned to see him hauling a garbage bag. Darian’s golden eyes pulsed and swirled with battle fever. He was bloodied and his clothing shredded. She couldn’t tell how much of the blood on him was his.

  “I figured it out.”

  “How to fight more than one without getting fried?” she asked.

  “Yeah. It’s not as hard as I expected. Almost got my ass kicked again before I figured it out. I brought these back for Jonny.”

  “I don’t want to know,” she said, gaze lingering on the garbage bag. She glanced at the clock on the wall behind him. “Jonny’s probably hunting now.”

  “I figured I’d leave these in his bed for him,” Darian said with a wink. “Seems to be the custom around here.”

  “You do that.” Jenn turned away. The vulnerability she felt in the immortal world lingered. She didn’t like it. She’d kill as many punching bags as she could, until she was numb to the world again. She’d almost managed to return to the zone when Darian gripped the chain at the top of the punching bag, stabilizing it before her and disrupting the swaying rhythm.

 

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