“Why do you need me at all?” I asked, lowering Alysdair to my side. “Why not walk up to Osiris and ask him to kill you? Tell him you’ve been screwing Isis and he’ll happily oblige.”
“What does it matter?” Thoth replied. A non-answer and the closest I’d come to the truth.
There was more to this than a bored god looking for an adrenaline hit to pass the time. Something about me was important, or something about the sword in my hand or the timing. Too many unknowns rattled around in my head. When a god asks you to kill him, the reason can’t be good.
“It matters because there’s more to this—more than you’re telling me. I haven’t survived this long by happily marching to the gods’ every tune.”
“Don’t do it,” Shu whispered sotto voce beside me.
A trap, she was probably thinking. And she’d be right. But right here, right now, I held all the power, all the odds. If I could kill Thoth, could I kill Osiris? Thoth said he’d fed some of his power into Alysdair. Could that extra hit cleave through the God of the Underworld? The thought was enough to tempt me. And temptation and I? We got along like a spelled scroll on fire.
The god was smiling as if I’d placed his winnings at his feet. I was missing another angle here.
“The tablet…?” I asked, recalling how the priests had stolen it and almost ignited the spell it contained before I got to them.
“After you started slaughtering any witch you could find, I needed to move events along to refocus you—like one might set a hound on the correct scent. I tasked the priests with stealing the tablet and retrieving you once they awoke its power.”
The missing pieces slotted into place. “It’s not death you’re looking for…” The Tablet of Resurrection. “It’s rebirth.”
He bowed his head in agreement. “Rebirth, at the tip of your blade.”
The God of Law reborn as who or what? He wasn’t doing this to come back as a lowly mortal who worked a nine-to-five job. Thoth was Amun-Ra’s son, making him one of the most powerful deities alive and awake today. To go to all this trouble just to be born again? All my instincts told me to back off. This was wrong, and it would surely come back to bite me in the ass.
“Why me, Thoth?”
“Osiris will punish you and yours if you do not kill me, Mister Dante. This solves both our problems.” He stood, straightened his tie like he was heading out to lunch and not about to meet his final moments, and looked me dead in the eye. “Be done with this. Cukkomd.”
The word tickled somewhere inside my chest, buzzing like a scarab in a jar. If it was supposed to affect me, it failed. “For an ageless god, you seem in an awful hurry to die.”
“Cukkomd!” he said again. Command. His eyes widened, and those thin lips curled up over his blunt teeth.
This was spellword 101. He should’ve known he couldn’t compel me to kill a god, yet he seemed surprised his word was bouncing right off me.
“What will you come back as?” I asked, enjoying watching the infallible Thoth come apart at the seams.
His wide-eyed glare sharpened into something more sinister. “That I cannot tell you…” he said, but his thoughts were elsewhere, trying to riddle me out.
“Can’t or won’t? I’m the one this will all come back on. I’m not getting personal with your insides until I know what’s at stake. Who do you think Osiris will punish when he realizes what’s happened here? Not your reborn ass. I’ve been Osiris’s whipping boy long enough to know not to make the situation worse. And it can always get worse.”
Whatever was bothering him, he seemed to shake it off. Squaring his shoulders, he said, “I am, in fact, helping you fulfill your agreement. Why is this so difficult? Just kill me and be done with it.”
“Helping me? Thoth, I didn’t know you cared,” I drawled. “The pantheon may not be as active as before, but all that means is whatever you’re brewing is big. I’ve lived a tumultuous life, but one thing’s remained constant: gods serve their own interests. So lie to me again and tell me how you’re helping me, because you forget I’ve been around the block a few times. I’ve seen the worst shit you can fling at each other, and I don’t want any part of it.”
Thoth blinked, looking affronted. “I do not lie. You need to do this, and I need it to happen. It is the most logical recourse.”
Said by a god who’d slaughter people if he thought it was the most logical recourse. “I ask again: why me?”
“Is it so difficult to believe our desires are aligned?”
Talking to Thoth was like trying to catch water in a sieve. I wasn’t getting anywhere. If he didn’t want to tell me, I couldn’t make him. And threatening him wouldn’t help.
Unless I threatened to walk away.
I eyed the nearest door. I could walk right out of here and be done with him. I’d have to leave cursed Alysdair, or else I’d sleepwalk myself into devouring more witches or anyone unfortunate enough to cut me off in traffic. In two days, Osiris’s deadline would be up. He wouldn’t bother torturing Shu and me together; the novelty had worn off centuries ago. He’d go for Cat. And while Cat and I barely knew each other, Bast would have my hide if one of her warriors was flayed alive because of my screw-up.
Kill a god to please another god and avoid the wrath of a goddess. The downside? I didn’t know what house of cards killing Thoth would topple.
“Why can I not compel you?” Thoth asked, genuinely surprised.
I shrugged. “You can’t compel anyone to kill a god.”
Micro lines appeared around his eyes and lips. “I am the God of Law. Words are my weapons.” He paused, realizing no one in this room cared for his ego. “There was a time when you wouldn’t have hesitated.”
“There was a time when I was a soul addict who presided over the Hall of Judgment, and we all know how that turned out.”
Shu snorted, likely thinking I was still a soul addict, especially after what she’d seen at the museum.
Thoth strode out from behind his desk and approached us with intent. “You were more than that.” He kept coming, backing Shu and me up a few steps. “My command, cukkomd, should have gripped you. Why didn’t it?” Closer.
I planted my boots and squared up against him.
“You’re not one of us…” he said. “What are you really, Nameless One?”
“I can tell you I’m not a pawn in your godly mind games, so don’t bother trying to compel or command me.”
Thoth might not lie, but he sure knew how to shovel bullshit.
“The truth has been taken from you.” He announced it like it was fact.
Gods and their drama. I was sick of it. “Nobody takes anything from me.”
“Besides Osiris,” Shu piped up.
I shot her a cutting glare. She shrugged.
“You must kill me, Mokarakk Oma,” Thoth demanded, adding a little compulsion for kicks. He opened his arms, presenting a lawyer-shaped target. “As it is written.”
The windows behind him bowed, and all around, his undercurrent of magic shifted, reminding me whose house I was in.
As it is written? That sounded suspiciously like a prophecy. The God of Law would know—the writings were his domain—and there was the crux.
“What is written?” I asked.
That shadow passed over his face again, and this time, a glimmer of gold flashed in his eyes. I wasn’t playing his game, and he was losing patience.
“There’s a child as yet unborn. That child will kill a god, a god set to put in motion the end of all things. A god many would like to see abolished before that happens. The prophecy belongs to me.”
Oh, hell no. I wasn’t getting involved in that recipe for disaster. I should have taken the first flight to Aruba. I could’ve been sipping cocktails on the beach. Instead, Thoth was maneuvering me like an idiot straight into Osiris’s wrath. Prophecies and bullshit. I was done here.
“No.” I meant it too. The tingling had stopped and the urge to kill was lifting, leaving me solid and real, anchored
to this world.
“You cannot say no,” Thoth blustered. “It is written.”
“Write this.” I tossed the sword onto his desk, where it clattered and skidded to a stop. “Keep the sword. Fall on it. Pick your teeth with it. I don’t care. Get some other sap to fulfill your prophecy. I’m not your guy.”
I headed for the door with Shu in tow.
“You’ve been careful, Mister Dante.”
I had my hand on the door, ready to yank it open and leave, but a small, threatening thread wove through his tone.
“Never settling down, never forming relationships, until recently. You’ve been in New York longer than anywhere else you’ve settled, besides Duat, of course.”
I turned, clocked Shu’s frown, and watched Thoth cock his head, curiously birdlike.
Sighing, I said, “The day a god gets to the point will be the day I sprout wings and wear a halo.”
Thoth waited, drawing out his moment. “You know a police officer by the name of Nick Jones.”
Cujo. For all the good it did me, I buried any sign of recognition beneath perfect stoicism. If Thoth knew Cujo’s real name, he already knew where he lived and probably knew all about his estranged family too. In the ten years I’d known Cujo, not once had I let slip that he and I were friends. I was careful. The past had taught me to be. How did Thoth know?
Thoth acknowledged my drawn-out silence with an imperceptible nod. “I had my priests follow you. Distracted by dying witches, you really weren’t at your best.”
They’d followed me to Cujo’s, just like Cat had warned. I should have spotted them. Had I not been battling a damn curse, I would have. And now Cujo was on Thoth’s hit list. He’d already suffered at a god’s hands, and he’d suffer again for knowing me.
But not if I could help it. I’d looked gods in the eye and lied. If the rumors were to be believed, I’d killed a god. Godkiller. If Thoth wanted to screw with me, he’d found the right trigger.
“Nick Jones? Doesn’t sound familiar.” I sounded the same, but I was already relaxing my hold on my power. By the tension holding him still, Thoth had felt the change and could probably feel aspects of me filling this room.
“So smooth the liar. You haven’t changed, Nameless One. A liar for centuries, covering your misdeeds, and a liar today.”
Shu glanced my way, but I trained all my attention on the god. “If you wanna play your games with me, you go right ahead, but dragging acquaintances into this? That’s where I draw the line.”
Thoth clicked his fingers, and right on cue, the doors opened and two suited priests wheeled Cujo in. Cujo’s head lolled as if he were a limp doll. He was conscious but oblivious to the danger he was in. Godstruck. A blessing in disguise. He probably wouldn’t remember how one of those priests had held a gun to the back of his neck, but I would. Rage blasted heat through my veins, and the mental grip on my power slipped. Fine. This was how it was going to be.
Shu breathed in, hissing through her teeth. “Just kill Thoth already so we can go home. He wants to die. You want to kill him. Osiris wants him dead. We all win.”
Fury flashed in her eyes, the likes of which I hadn’t expected from her, especially when a few minutes earlier, she’d told me not to kill Thoth. Her glare found Cujo and tension strummed through her. She cared all right.
“What of your soul?” I asked Thoth, tacking on a crooked smile, one fitting the Soul Eater. I sauntered to the desk and admired Alysdair, waiting for the answer. The blade wanted to kill; it always did. No second-guessing. No doubt. It knew what it was and what it had to do. Wasn’t I the same? Wasn’t I perfectly designed to kill Thoth?
“I am the son of Amun-Ra. Devour my soul, and the power it contains will destroy you.”
“How convenient.”
“I will be reborn.”
“Yes, yes. To fulfill a priest’s wet dream scrawled onto some papyrus a million years ago. I heard you the first time.”
Thoth sucked in a small, sharp breath. “You disrespect the old ways.”
“I disrespect insane fantasies that have destroyed countless lives over the centuries.” I eased my hand around Alysdair’s handle and leaked my excess power into the blade, making the sword part of the monster in me.
The priests, Thoth, and Shu watched me turn, missing the little black cat that trotted in through the open door behind them. Cat stopped behind the priest with the gun. Judging by the way she’d dealt with the priests at the construction site, these sycophantic bastards weren’t leaving alive.
“Here’s how it’ll be,” I said. “I am not killing you, Thoth. Me, Shu, and Nick Jones will be free to leave”—I pointed Alysdair at Thoth’s chest—“after your little priests lift the curse from Alysdair.”
Thoth said, “Kill the man.”
The priest cocked his gun. His finger slid onto the trigger a second before a very naked, very lethal Cat reached around, yanked his gun arm up, and plunged her claws into his back, punching his heart right out of his chest.
Shu whipped out a hand, flinging a blinding and deadly spell at the remaining priest. Before he knew what had hit him, sand spilled from his lips. He fell, gagging and clawing at his throat. But he’d live.
Cujo was safe. That was all I cared about.
I turned my attention to Thoth, who’d watched everything unfold without raising an eyebrow. “Lift the damn curse!”
We stood close enough to each other that a double-handed thrust would kill him. And oh, how every part of me wanted to do it. It would feel right. It would be glorious. I’d drink him down and never stop.
“Lift the gods-be-damned curse, Thoth.”
“It ends when you kill me.” He launched himself forward and gripped Alysdair’s blade with both hands.
I tried to pull back, to stop him, but somewhere inside, the message wasn’t getting through. Alysdair sank deep into the god’s chest, plunging between his ribs just like it had been designed to do. Deeper and deeper it pushed, just like another time, with another god. But her eyes had been sorry—
No, this was wrong.
Thoth’s hand clamped onto my shoulder, and the god poured all of his inhuman strength into pulling me forward. His eyes—storms of gray, shattered by veins of lightning—locked on mine. “This is the right thing, Godkiller. It was written, so shall it be.”
Surrendering to the curse, to the desires, to my nature, I gripped his shoulder and drove Alysdair in until the blade had nowhere else to go. The sword hummed, coming alive in my hand, and the insanity that had been clawing at me for weeks released its hold. I was myself again: Ace Dante. Soul Eater. Nameless One. And I was killing Thoth, just as I’d agreed, and damn if it didn’t feel good.
I switched my grip to the back of Thoth’s neck and pulled him so close that all he could see were my black eyes. Deeper inside I dug, seeking his soul. “If this comes back on me, I’ll find you and I won’t care who or what you’re reborn as, I’ll sunder your immortal soul. Do you understand me? I give you my word as the Soul Eater.”
Thoth smiled as blood spilled from his lips and down his chin. That smile grew into a knowing grin.
I was falling into the god’s gaze, and that hungry part of me wanted to test his words and discover whether a god’s soul could truly destroy the likes of me. His soul struck out and tore through me like a bolt of lightning. Heat, noise, chaos, and pain slammed into me, driving my invasion out of him. I cried out and flung myself free of the god and the sword, recoiling from a soul too potent for me.
Thoth dropped to his knees with Alysdair protruding from his heart. He spluttered and wheezed, the last threads of life unraveling.
Dread plummeted through my gut.
I’d killed Amun-Ra’s son.
Thoth threw his head back and spread his arms, and the power I’d felt when I walked into the room flooded the space. It was blinding and heavy, sharp and cutting, everywhere and nowhere—the same power deep inside him that had expelled me. And then, in a blink, it fled the room, leaving T
hoth on his side, gray eyes dull and lifeless—soulless.
The prophecy, whatever that meant, was in motion, and I’d kick-started it.
“Sekhmet’s balls,” Shu spat.
I wobbled on my feet and then bowed over, grasping my thighs for balance and to anchor myself in reality all over again. Drawing my wandering power back into me, I wrapped myself back up as Ace Dante, tucking all the power in tight and getting control over myself for the first time in months.
Okay. I straightened. This is me. I was back. I’d killed a god and started a prophecy that could result in Osiris’s demise, but I’d be fine. As long as Osiris or any of the other gods didn’t find out, everything would be fine.
“Acehole?” Shu grumbled. “Clock’s ticking and Thoth isn’t around to get you out of jail.”
I’d killed a lawyer. Right. There was that too.
I flipped my collar up, strode to Thoth’s empty body, and curled my fingers around Alysdair.
“Daquir.” Devour. The embers ate him up, turning his earthly body to ash and dust. Cat’s gutted priest went the same way, but Shu quickly spelled the remaining priest into believing Thoth had taken an unscheduled vacation and we were nothing but a bad dream. She’d have to do the same to the receptionist, if we had any hope of escaping unnoticed.
“What’d I miss?” Cujo slurred as I grabbed his chair and wheeled him out of the office.
I clicked my fingers at Shu and without a word, she draped us all in an invisibility shroud, tucking in Cat, who followed along behind us, licking blood from her fingertips.
“Too much of the bourbon, my friend.” I patted Cujo on the shoulder. “You’ll be right as rain once we get you home.”
Chapter 11
Cujo didn’t believe my bullshit about our wild night sampling Manhattan’s bars. The last thing he recalled was calling his daughter at her mom’s and getting ready to hit the sack. He had no idea that call to his kid could have been his last, and I intended to keep it that way.
Witches' Bane (The Soul Eater Book 2) Page 12