Half Bad: A Reverse Harem Goddess Romance (Godhunter Book 31)

by Amy Sumida

  “No.” Blue cleared his throat. “It's a personal—”

  “Kukulkan is another name for Quetzalcoatl,” Eztli cut off her husband. “They are the same god.”

  “Quetzalcoatl and my wife had an... unfortunate run-in a long time ago,” Blue said stiffly.

  “It says here that he's your brother.” Torrent was reading again.

  “I thought all of your brothers were...” I left it hanging because I didn't want to bring up the horrible battle in which Blue's hundreds of brothers—yes, hundreds, that's what immortality can achieve—attacked his family and killed his parents and sister.

  “They are all dead,” Blue confirmed. “The myths say Quetzalcoatl is my brother; he is not.”

  “The myths say that because they were close.” Eztli sent Blue a look.

  “Before I learned of the incident between him and my wife, we were like brothers,” Blue explained.

  “Well, it looks as if you've got a bunch of serpent gods in your pantheon,” Torr went on in his innocent way, totally missing the grim undertone of the conversation. “There's one who's a Goddess of War and one who is a God of Hunting.”

  “Coatlicue and Mixcoatl,” Blue said. “Coatlicue is also a fertility goddess and Mixcoatl is Quetzalcoatl's father. I suppose it's possible that one of them has made a pact with another god to trade sacrifices but wouldn't we be seeing other deaths then? Other odd deaths, I mean.”

  “Perhaps not. Gods have ways of making bodies disappear,” Thor's deep voice had a hint of thunder in it even when he spoke in a moderate tone.

  Thor sat at the head of the table, in between Odin and Hades. I liked him to sit in a position of honor since he had formed the Squad. He'd left it for awhile because of some issues with his daughter, but he was back now and nearly back to his old self.

  “There would be reports of missing people,” Odin, Thor's father and my husband, noted.

  Now that Odin was clean-shaven, he looked as if he were Thor's brother. In fact, the resemblance was uncanny and a little unsettling, especially when they sat beside each other. The only things keeping them from looking like twins were their hair and eye colors. Odin's hair was dark chestnut with golden highlights while Thor's was strawberry blond, and Odin's eyes were an amazing peacock shade that shifted between emerald, sapphire, and amethyst while Thor's eyes were a blue-green that reminded me of Caribbean quartz.

  “Not if they chose people who wouldn't be missed,” Brahma countered as he smoothed his close-cropped, dark beard pensively.

  “Maybe we should focus on facts before we jump to conclusions,” Hekate, dressed in her usual Goth-getup—toned down ever since she married Horus—suggested as she played with a purple strand of hair. “We know that we're dealing with a snake-shifter who is likely from Central America. That makes the Aztec and Mayan Gods the obvious culprits.”

  “Maya,” Torrent said.

  “What?” Hekate looked over at him.

  “The word is Maya, not Mayan,” he explained. “Common mistake. People use the word Mayan and Mayas all the time but both are usually incorrect. There is only one instance in which Mayan is the acceptable term and that's when you refer to the family of thirty languages spoken by the Maya people. But one of those thirty is called Maya too so—”

  “Okay, we get it,” Finn cut off Torrent with a roll of his green eyes—a shade darker than Torrent's.

  “I just wanted her to know the correct word,” Torrent huffed. “Words are important, especially when they're names.”

  “It's okay, babe,” Artemis said to Torr. “They know. They're gods, they understand the power of names.”

  “Anyway.” Mrs. E cleared her throat. “Shall we look into these gods?”

  “I will speak to Quetzalcoatl,” Blue offered grudgingly. “He knows all of the snake gods and will be able to tell me if any of them could be behind this.”

  “Will he even speak with you?” Eztli asked.

  “He will if I bring the Godhunter.” Blue set a challenging stare on me.

  “Why me?” I asked as my men tensed.

  “There used to be only one thing that Quetzalcoatl and I disagreed on,” Blue said. “Humans. He saw himself as a protector of humans and—”

  A snort from Eztli cut him off.

  “My love, he was doing what he thought was best for his people,” Blue said gently. “He saw you as a threat.”

  Eztli sighed and nodded, but her expression remained resentful.

  “As I was saying,” Blue started again. “Quetzalcoatl saw himself as a protector and hated the fact that I manipulated humans into war. He understood but hated it. When I joined you, he rejoiced and often mentioned his admiration for you.”

  “Why haven't you brought him to a meeting?” I asked. “We can use all the help we can get.”

  “Because he doesn't want to join us.” Blue shrugged.

  “He won't join because of me,” Eztli said dryly. “And, honestly, I would never return if you allowed him into the group.”

  Blue let out another sigh. “At first, Quetzalcoatl wanted me to test the waters, as it were. Then, I was reunited with Eztli and learned of their... issues. I haven't spoken to him since.”

  “Whoa, dude,” Ryan, one of the Intare, murmured. “Not cool to drop a friend like that.”

  “She's my wife,” Blue said sternly to Ryan. “She comes first.”

  “And now, you want to take my wife with you as a buffer?” Re asked, leaning forward on lean forearms to set his golden stare on Blue.

  “Yes,” Blue said simply. “If you want to hear what Quetzalcoatl has to say about the Aztec snake gods, this is the only way.”

  “Then I'm going with you,” Re declared.

  “All of us will,” Odin added.

  “It will be bad enough to bring one guest with me, I can't bring your whole family,” Blue protested. He looked at my resolute men and settled on Viper. “You can come. You're a snake; he'll appreciate that.”

  Viper grinned. “Sweet! I get to meet another snake god.”

  “If this snake-shifter stays true to form, we'll have until nightfall in Texas before we have to start worrying about another attack and it's just getting to be morning there,” Odin said. “That should give you plenty of time to speak with Quetzalcoatl and return.”

  “What about the Maya Gods?” Torrent asked.

  “Quetzalcoatl will know of them too; he's a crossover god,” Blue assured him. “He won't be as certain about them as he will about the Aztecs, but he'll have insight that I can't offer you.”

  “Fine, but I expect updates, Minn Elska,” Trevor said to me.

  “Does Quetzalcoatl live on Earth or in the God Realm?” I asked Blue before I answered my husband.

  “The God Realm, and his wards are strong.”

  I grimaced at Trevor.

  Trevor snarled a curse.

  I was now connected to all of my men through a god binding called Blood to Heart. It's an eternal bond—one of soul and mind. We are united through love and magic, and can even feel each other's emotions if they're strong enough. We can also communicate telepathically. It's not a constant thing—we only speak to each other mentally when necessary or when we want to be especially intimate—but it can come in handy when we're separated. Like a two-way radio in our heads. There's just one problem: it doesn't work if we're separated by strong wards. Magic couldn't block our bond but it would block our ability to communicate with each other.

  “It will be all right,” I promised. “He likes me, remember?”

  Chapter Five

  As soon as Blue, Viper, and I stepped out of the cave that housed Quetzalcoatl's tracing chamber, we were blasted by furious gusts of wind. I tried to lean into it but it came from all directions. As we were tossed against each other and generally bashed about like ping-pong balls, my words to Trevor came back to haunt me. This was decidedly not all right.

  “Quetzalcoatl, I've brought the Godhunter to meet you!” Blue shouted.

  The win
d abruptly died and we were left stumbling, arms extended to catch our balance.

  “The Godhunter?” A deep, male voice asked hesitantly.

  “That would be me. Hi, how ya doing?” I looked around for the source of the voice; it, like the wind, seemed to be coming from all around me.

  Also around us, a thick jungle grew—lushly green and echoing with the cries of waking creatures. I wasn't too surprised by that, Gods generally design their territories to match the region of their myth's origin. I've seen quite a few exceptions to this rule but the biggest reason to go with your pantheon's cultural theme is that a god's territory is usually connected to the region on Earth that their people live in. The God Realm is laid over the Earth like the atmosphere except it's more magical and a hell of a lot more tangible. Territories correspond in climate and time to the land that they are aligned with. So, generally speaking, it's easier to go with the flora and fauna of that region than to try to go against it. And, of course, there's tradition to consider.

  I had a feeling this guy was a traditionalist.

  Humidity hung in the air thick enough to coat my skin and leaves dripped with morning dew. The sun was just rising over the wet jungle, turning the leaves glossy. We stood in a clearing before the cave but there was no path leading away from it. Nothing but a solid wall of imposing jungle hung with vines and exuding a definite keep-out vibe. A lot of gods had defenses in place around their tracing room just in case any unwanted visitors got through their wards. I wondered if the jungle was Quetzalcoatl's last line of defense. If it was, I'd rather not step into it uninvited.

  “And this is my boyfriend, Viper,” I added when I got no response.

  “Here he comes,” Blue whispered to us. “Look to the sky; you're about to witness something that the world hasn't seen in a very long time. And it will be wondrous.”

  Viper and I lifted our stares to the lightening sky. Amid the fluffy clouds, far in the distance, a blob of color appeared. I squinted, my dragon eyes taking charge, but that became unnecessary. The blob approached fast enough that within seconds, it revealed itself to be a flying feathered snake. And those three words—flying feathered snake—are not nearly enough to describe the profound, heartrending, and alien beauty of the creature known as Quetzalcoatl.

  I felt my jaw slide open. I've seen a lot of strange things in my time but I thought I knew what to expect of Quetzalcoatl. I thought I was prepared. I've read enough about the feathered serpent god to know he'd be big, reptilian, and avian all at once. But reading about him and actually seeing his massive snake body undulating through the sky as if through water, without any wings to support him, was another thing entirely.

  My mind was trying to wrap itself around this creature and was coming up confused. Sure, I've seen things fly that shouldn't be able to but there was something about a beast with feathers—and yet no wings—flying that felt wrong. Why have feathers and flight but no wings? It just didn't make sense. Were they magical feathers? Did we have a Dumbo situation going on here? But then again, Dumbo's feather wasn't magical, it was all about confidence. Or belief. And that was exactly why a feathered serpent god could fly without wings—belief. Humans believed he could so there he was, ruling the sky when he should have been slithering across the ground.

  Sunlight gleamed off lime-green scales, turning them into jewels. Their gemstone color complemented the emerald, ruby, and citrine feathers that framed Quetzalcoatl's face and tipped his tail—all in haphazard glory. His head was wide and angular, almost like a dragon's, and he opened his mouth to reveal fangs as long as my arms. A terrible screech tore up his throat to echo over the forest and the territory went still as if listening to its god. He spiraled above us, looking like a Chinese acrobat's ribbon, before swirling down into a landing.

  “Step back,” Blue grabbed Viper and me and pulled us out of the way.

  He shouldn't have bothered. Quetzalcoatl shifted as he descended—his body shrinking and his feathers pulling in tightly against skin that absorbed his scales. By the time he set foot on the ground, he had feet—human feet. They were bare, as was most of his body, but some of his beautiful feathers had conveniently transformed into a skirt, angling from one hip down to the opposite knee like the sweep of the wings he didn't have. The feathers had the look of daggers, without a hint of softness to their edges.

  My gaze traveled up the muscular thighs, over the feathered skirt, skimmed the tight abs and chest, then finally reached Quetzalcoatl's face. He was lean, like Blue, and his skin was the same rich shade as the Sun God's. He even had green eyes, though I had to admit that I preferred Quetzalcoatl's bright teal gaze with hints of ocean blue in them to Blue's jade. There, the similarities ended. Oh, they both looked Aztec but Quetzalcoatl's features were sharper than Blue's—more predatory—and his hair was a shade of orange that made me think of fire. It should have looked ridiculous on a man. I mean, orange hair? That's the stuff of clowns and cartoons, right? But on Quetzalcoatl, it looked like a warning—like the scales of a poisonous snake. His hair said: come any closer and you'll regret it. But his eyes told another story. They were gentle—the only gentle thing about him—and they stared at me in warm welcome.

  “Godhunter,” Quetzalcoatl spoke in the same, resonant voice I'd heard earlier, “it's an honor to meet you at last.” He held a palm to his chest and bowed.

  “The honor's mine. And please, call me Vervain.” I stepped forward with my hand extended. “I only wish we'd met sooner. I've just been told that we share a similar view on human-god relations.”

  Quetzalcoatl grinned as he shook my hand, transforming his face into something more appropriate for his eyes. “Indeed. I should have been bolder and asked Huitzilopochtli to introduce us before he turned his back on me over a woman.”

  “I didn't turn my back on you,” Blue grumbled, sounding less refined than usual. “I married a woman you once hunted. I couldn't continue our relationship without betraying her.”

  “I was asked by our people to chase her away,” Quetzalcoatl said stiffly. “You know this. You also know that the reason they asked me to drive her off is that you made her into a creature they feared. How could I refuse them? I didn't hurt her, just scared her a little.”

  “I know.” Blue hung his head. “But she still fears you and I'm stuck in the middle.”

  “What has changed your mind? Why do you come here now?”

  “I asked him to contact you because we need your help,” I stepped in. “Or your insight, rather.”

  “Oh?” Quetzalcoatl lifted a bright brow. “The Godhunter requires my assistance?”

  “I do, but first, let me introduce you to Viper. He's a—”

  “Snake,” Quetzalcoatl finished for me as he held his hand out to Viper. “Very nice to meet you, Brother.” He cocked his head at Viper and added with some surprise, “You are a young god. Very young.”

  “Vervain brought me from the Void and made this body for me,” Viper said proudly. “I'm almost a year old.”

  “That's right; our birthdays are close,” I murmured.

  “Are they?” Viper asked. “How come I don't know yours?”

  “You never asked.” I laughed. “It's okay, we haven't had time to talk about the little things.”

  “Did you say that she made your body?” Quetzalcoatl asked Viper, then looked at me for confirmation.

  “I was a different person then,” I admitted. “I was infected by evil and the magic inside me was out of control—without limits. I don't think I could do it again.”

  “Well, you had better not,” Viper huffed. “You have enough men as it is.”

  “Yes, I've heard about your family.” Quetzalcoatl glanced at Blue, then back at me. “Lioness magic, yes?”

  “That's right. But we've come to ask about your family. The snake gods, in particular.”

  “Oh? Why are you interested in my kin? You're not hunting them, are you?”

  “I honestly don't know and that's why we're here. There have been sna
ke attacks in Texas and the snakes appear to have migrated up from Mexico.”

  “And you think an Aztec god is behind these attacks?” His face settled into grim lines—the gentleman gone, consumed by the predator.

  “The evidence literally points at them,” I said apologetically. “But we're here to get your opinion. Blue has vouched for you. He says that we can trust you and that you would know if your fellow gods were behind the attacks.”

  “They're not.” Quetzalcoatl lifted his firm jaw adamantly.

  “You're certain?” I pressed.

  “Cihuacoatl hasn't left her territory in the God Realm in centuries, Chicomecoatl only goes forth to help her people grow corn—she's a farmer at heart, Coatlicue is wrapped up with her new lover, and my father came for a visit last night. He exhibited no unusual behavior.”