Half Bad: A Reverse Harem Goddess Romance (Godhunter Book 31)
Page 23
“Good point,” Morph admitted.
“So, we're breaking into Lugbara Heaven?” Torrent asked eagerly.
“No, you're breaking in,” I corrected with a grin. “We're just going in after you.”
“Works for me!” Torrent declared.
“There's just one problem with that,” Odin said before anyone could get up.
We swiveled our stares to him.
“As I tried to tell you earlier”—he shot me a reproachful grimace—“I don't actually know where Adroa's territory is.”
“Odin,” I whined. “You smiled. That implied that you knew.”
“However,” he lifted his voice to speak over me, “I know someone who does. And he has an open invitation. We won't have to break in. We just need to convince Mukasa to take us.”
“Did you say Mufasa?” I whispered with the reverence of a movie fanatic.
“No, Vervain,” Odin said sternly. “I said Mukasa, with a K.”
“What was that? I didn't hear you. Can you... o-o-o-oh do it again,” I dropped into the ultimate Lion King line and grinned at my poor, beleaguered husband.
“No,” Odin said simply.
“Oh come on, do it again,” I begged in the same hyena voice. “It tingles.”
“Vervain, no.” Odin shook his head at me and stood up.
I followed him down the table, determined to pester him about Mukasa all the way to the tracing room, but my cellphone buzzed—a literal buzz kill—and cut me off. I pulled it out of my jeans pocket and read a text from Austin that not only stole the smile from my face but also made my blood run cold.
“No.” I crumpled and barely caught myself on a chair.
“What is it?” Odin turned around immediately and slid an arm around my waist.
“It's Austin.” I handed Odin the phone.
He read the text, then cursed, “That bastard!”
“What's happened?” Blue demanded.
“Adro's killing kids,” I whispered.
Chapter Thirty-One
There was another uproar following my words. It had been a long time since we dealt with a child killer. The last time... dear Gods, the mere thought of it made my stomach turn. It's bad enough when someone kills a kid but the last god who'd done so was Tlaloc—he of the all-seeing goggles—and the way he'd killed them had been so horrific, it had haunted my nightmares for years. As the gods around me raged, I slid into a chair and covered my face with my hands.
I hadn't been a mother back then, but Tlaloc had gone after my friend, Sommer's son, Kai. We'd found him in time and Kai was now a rambunctious teenager, but the thought of someone else's child suffering because I didn't get to them fast enough—because I never imagined that Adro would sink so low—weighed heavily upon me. Two kids had died of snake attacks in Austin so far. Two in the hours that we'd been waiting, hoping that the owls had killed all the snakes. Should we have been patrolling? Should we have... oh, hell, I couldn't go there. What's done is done; I couldn't change it now. All I could do was make sure another kid didn't die.
“Tell Austin that we're on it,” Trevor said to me. “Tell him that you'll text him later.”
I just waved my hand toward my phone; Odin still had it.
“Carus, it will be all right.” Azrael took the chair beside me, then drew me off mine, onto his lap. His wings curled forward around us and muffled the sound of furious gods. “We'll find him but to do that, you're going to have to get past this. Don't think about the children, just focus on stopping Adro.”
“I know,” I mumbled. “I just need a minute to gather my strength.”
“How fortunate; I need to do the same and the best way for me to do that is to hold you,” he whispered.
I smiled against the skin of Azrael's throat. He smelled like vanilla orchids—one of my favorite scents, even before I'd met him. It calmed me, as did the feathered cocoon of his wings. Angels give the best hugs. My hand wandered up to stroke Azrael's strong jawline as if it were a security blanket. My heartbeat slowed. Then I started to register what everyone else was saying.
“Tradition?” Finn declared angrily, his Irish accent getting stronger with his anxiety. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, and all the twelve apostles! What the feck is wrong with you?”
“I'm merely pointing out that's why he's doing it,” Blue countered calmly.
“It's not about tradition,” Thor rumbled. “Killing your own child is the greatest of all sacrifices. The one person you probably love even more than yourself. Someone you're supposed to protect. An innocent life yet to be lived fully, it's potential untapped. It's a testament of faith and obedience. There's magic in that kind of sacrifice and it magnifies the power in the blood.”
“But these people aren't sacrificing their children,” Hekate argued. “Someone is murdering them.”
“The Adroanzi are technically sacrificing the children to Adro,” Horus said to his wife. “It's a loophole.”
“Gods using loopholes,” I muttered angrily as I sat up. “It's not as if this is a new development.”
Azrael dropped his wings as everyone turned to face me.
“Arguing about this isn't going to accomplish anything.” I slid off Azrael's lap. “We need to find to Adro and stop him. That's our goal and it hasn't changed. Currently, our only lead is Adroa so we're going with the plan to talk to him. If he can't or won't help us, we'll walk the streets of Austin while Odin watches from Hlidskjalf until we find an Adroanzi and grab him. Either way, we're getting this son of a bitch.”
The God Squad surged to its feet in agreement.
“Whoa.” Odin held up his hands. “We can't all go to see Adroa; it's too aggressive.”
“I think it's just enough aggression,” Thor argued. “He needs to feel the magnitude of what his badder half is doing.”
Badder half—that got me to crack a smile.
“Thor's right,” I said to Odin. “We all want to be there so we should all go. No one should have to sit this out. Not this time.”
“Fine,” Odin huffed and headed for the tracing room. “Form a damn line.”
“Give me a second; I need to hug my children,” I hurried off.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Mufasa—I mean Mukasa—was a Ugandan god, not the Lion King. Odin was friends with him but he didn't have access to Mukasa's territory. Fair enough. But that meant that we had to find another way to contact Mukasa, and he wasn't one of the gods able to take phone calls or texts in the God Realm. So, we had to old school it.
We came out of the Aether into the warm evening of an African summer. The time was the same as Pride Palace's but it was a bit warmer there. I hadn't realized until then how much my magic moderates the weather in my territory. The heat didn't bother me—I rather enjoyed it—but some of the other gods made sounds of distress and pulled their clothing away from their suddenly sweaty chests. Then the breeze shifted and with it came some cool humidity—we were close to water.
“Ow! What the flying fuck?” Morpheus cursed as he smacked himself on the neck. He brought his hand down and stared at his palm. “It bit me.”
Blue waved a hand gracefully around his face, chasing away another insect. In fact, everyone started swatting and growling at the pesky bugs.
“Tsetse flies,” Odin said with a chuckle. “These islands are named for them because they swarm here.”
“What islands?” Trevor growled as he flinched away from a fly. “Where the hell are we? Or is it Hell?”
“That's a good idea, Trevor. I think I should add a version of this place to Hell,” Hades said thoughtfully as he held a hand aloft and set it aflame. He started waving his blazing hand and killing flies like a living bug zapper. “I'll call it the Fury of the Flies.”
“Would that make you the Lord of the Flies?” I teased.
Hades grimaced.
“I think there may be a cell like this in the Ice Block.” Azrael had his wings closed protectively around himself. “It's an effective form of torture.”
I started to laugh at all of the annoyed faces but then one of the little bastards bit me. I snarled, smashed it into fly goo, and shifted my skin to scales. “Bite me now, you little vampires, I dare you.” I glanced over and caught Eztli's grimace. “Sorry. No offense to real vampires.”
She chuckled. “Usually, our victims enjoy being bitten.”
“Why aren't you getting bit?” Pan asked Eztli as he waved frantically around himself.
“Bad blood.” Eztli grinned wickedly, showing off her fangs.
“I'm seriously reconsidering whether I need to be here,” Teharon grumbled.
“Oh, enough of this!” Azrael declared as he swooshed open his wings and started fanning them, blowing the biting flies away.
The God Squad drew closer to the angel—Hades turning off his flames—and gave a collective sigh of relief. Morpheus, who'd had his wings hidden, released them to do the same. The Angel and the Dream God spread out and were able to cover the entire squad—a pair of divine fan boys. Azrael's wings were glorious, but Morph has stars within the midnight black of his feathers, and I couldn't help admiring the way they twinkled. Honestly, I was just glad I didn't have to add my wings to the mix; I didn't want to ruin my shirt.
I slid back into my normal skin and grinned at my brilliant husband. “Good idea, Az.”
“If you're all done whining about insects, maybe we could contact Mukasa?” Odin asked dryly.
“Waiting on you, babe.” I motioned him forward.
Odin rolled his beautiful, peacock eyes and headed off across the grass. It was a lovely place if you could get past the flies and really, once we were further away from the wooded area at our back, the threatening sound of buzzing faded until Az and Morph were able to give their wings a rest. The island reminded me a little of Hawaii, with the smell of saltwater on the air and the prevalence of palm trees, but some of the plant life—the trees in particular—was distinctly different than what you'd find in the Pacific. It was as if someone had blended Pride Palace's terrain with that of a tropical island. And that worked for me; I started to enjoy the hike.
“Is this island inhabited?” Persephone asked as she checked out the unique foliage; plants are kinda her thing.
“No. This island is home to Mukasa's main shrine and so it's visited when needed but no one lives here anymore,” Odin said.
“The main shrine?” I asked. “He's still worshiped? I thought the area was mainly Catholic?”
“The Ugandans are similar to Vodou practitioners in that they blend Catholicism or Christianity with their old religions. Mukasa has done much good for his people; they remember and respect him.” Odin brought us to a packed-earth path. “And to answer your earlier question, Trevor, this is Bubembe Island, one of eighty islands in the Ssese island chain. We're not in an ocean but a very large lake—Lake Victoria.”
“I'm more of a mountain man than an islander,” Trevor muttered.
“We won't be here long,” Odin promised. “Here it is.”
The path ended in a packed earth clearing. In the clearing were two buildings—two huts, to be specific. They had conical roofs that went all the way to the ground, making them both roof and walls, I suppose. These roof-walls were made of thatched grass with only one opening at center-front—an arched overhang that sheltered open doorways. They vaguely resembled tepees but were larger, sturdier—as evidenced by the thick poles within the arches, wider, and drabber. One hut was smaller than the other and it was to the smaller hut that Odin headed.
“This is where the medium comes to speak with Mukasa.” Odin hunched over to get through the doorway.
Inside, the hut was cool and dry. Woven-reed walls rose from the dirt floor. A fire pit waited in the center of the space and a charred wooden platform, its poles laid in a crisscross pattern like a grate, sat over it.
“Open concept,” I noted. “Looks like the medium is a minimalist. There's not even a chair.”
“Do we have to roast a pig or something?” Morpheus asked as he peered at the pile of wood that waited beneath the platform.
“That's not a barbecue grill,” Odin glanced from Morph to me. “That's the medium's chair.”
“She cooks herself?” Morpheus asked in horror.
“Hardly.” Odin rolled his eyes. “As you can see, the platform is high enough that she wouldn't get burned, only enveloped in the smoke. Mukasa is one of the few gods who never accepted human sacrifice, only animal.”
“Please tell me that we don't have to get up there on that contraption and light a fire to contact him.” Sarasvati made a face.
“No, the fire alone will do the trick,” Odin said as he waved me forward. “Lighting it is enough to gain Mukasa's attention. Would you do the honor, Vervain?”
I blew a stream of fire onto the waiting wood and it quickly caught. Flames rose but not high enough to threaten the platform.
“I don't know why that's sexy, but it is,” Viper said as he sidled closer to me.
“Slow your role, lover.” I held up a hand but also grinned to soften the blow. “We're waiting on company and although I'm a faerie, I'm not an exhibitionist. At least, not outside of our relationship.”
“What's this about Faeries?” Viper asked with a lifted brow.
“Evidently, public sex is not an issue for them.” I grimaced. “Or rather, I have an issue with it because they don't.”
“Faeries have sex in public?” Re asked with obvious interest. “Are we talking orgies or just one on one?”
“One on one, but don't get me started.” I pointed at him. “I've just found out about it and I'm not pleased.”
“You just found out?” Trevor lifted a dubious brow. “You and Arach nearly went at it in front of everyone after that hunt we were invited to and none of the faeries there even batted an eye.”
“That was a bloodlust thing,” I protested. “And it was more about Arach going a little crazy than about desire. I was doing dragon damage control.”
Odin cleared his throat.
“I was.” I turned to look at Odin and finally noticed the man standing beside him. “Oh. Hello.”
The man was tall, thin, sleekly muscled—very apparent since his chest was bare, and had skin in that stunning deep brown that was nearly true-black. The kind of skin that looks polished when it perspires or—as was the case with Mukasa—when it was on a god. His hair and eyes were as dark as his skin—the hair short and the eyes full of delight. His full lips swept up in a smile.
“You must be Vervain,” Mukasa declared in a rich, melodious voice as he opened his arms to me.
Being raised in Hawaii, I was totally okay with strangers giving me hugs—it happens there all the time. But it rarely happened with gods. So, I willingly went forward to hug Mukasa but did so with a little confusion. He was warm and gave a good hug—squeezing me just enough to convey a welcome. Then he stood back, taking my upper arms in hand, and smiled again.
“I am so very happy to meet you,” he said. “You gave me back my friend.”
“I did?”
“You did,” Mukasa affirmed. “Odin was lost for many years. So very angry. Not the man I knew. Then you returned to him and look.” He waved a hand at Odin. “There he is. He even shaved that awful beard.”
“It's good to see you, Mukasa.” Odin laid a hand on the god's shoulder and squeezed it affectionately.
“You as well, Odin. And you have brought me so many new people to meet.” Mukasa stepped forward to shake every god's hand.
I looked at Odin while the introductions were made and he grinned at me. Odin really liked this man, that much was obvious and it was also obvious why. The guy was likable. I couldn't stop smiling just from hugging him. He had that kind of rare charisma that sets people at ease and makes them happy. He radiated kindness and acceptance.
“Now, why have you summoned me here today?” Mukasa finally asked.
“We're hoping that you will take us to see Adroa,” Odin said. He explained what was happeni
ng, in great detail, then waited for Mukasa's answer.
Mukasa's face had slowly sunk into sorrowful lines as he listened to Odin. When the report was over, Mukasa bent his head and took a few minutes to think. No one interrupted him—he looked too pensive and sad.
“I will take you,” Mukasa said at last. “Adroa will be pained to hear this but he needs to know and if he can help you stop Adro, it will be worth it.”
“Thank you,” Odin said gravely.
“I cannot imagine how he can help you, though,” Mukasa added. “The two halves are completely separate. I don't think he can find Adro for you.”