Monsoons and Monsters: Godhunter Book 22

by Amy Sumida

  “Fascinating.” He smiled brilliantly. “Would you care to stay and supervise me until the next attack? I'd be honored to have you as my guest. We could fly through the sky and swim in my rainwater pools. I am an exceptional host.”

  “I think Brahma would disagree,” I teased.

  Rudra burst out laughing. “Well, the offer stands, Vervain. I am not guilty—of this, at least—and happy to prove myself as such. But while you decide, allow me to escort you to Brahma. If you can calm him, he is free to go.”

  “Thank you, Rudra,” I said as I stood. “You've been just as honorable as Karni Mata said you were.”

  “You told them that I'm honorable?” Rudra asked Karni Mata in surprise. “Even though I am friends with Yama?”

  “That simply makes it difficult for us to be friends,” Karni said. “It has no bearing on your honor... only your poor taste in gods.”

  Rudra chuckled and then bowed to Karni. “You are a remarkable woman, Karni Mata. Thank you for your kind words and honesty.”

  “And thank you for not killing Brahma,” Karni said. “I know how tempting it must have been.”

  “Oh, so very.” Rudra sighed. “I have wronged him, yes, but how many times has he broken his marriage vows? I don't think it's me who he should be angry with, but himself.”

  “A fact that I'm hoping to make clear to him,” I muttered.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Brahma's cell was a spacious suite with more amenities than your average luxury hotel room. The only drawback was the ward laid over the door. Rudra dropped the ward for me, but only me, and only long enough for me to get inside. The ward went right back up as soon as the door was shut behind me.

  Brahma was reclining on a chaise lounge, staring up at the painted sky on the ceiling, looking like the picture of calm. I knew better than to fall for it.

  “If you rush the door on my way out, Rudra will only shove you back in here,” I noted.

  Brahma scowled and sat up. “That fucking bastard!”

  I nodded.

  “I am Brahma! Lord of Speech and Sound!”

  I nodded.

  “And he slept with my wife!”

  I nodded.

  “And he is unrepentant!”

  I nodded.

  “Aren't you going to say anything?”

  “You're a cheating bastard yourself, which makes you a hypocrite and an asshole,” I said calmly.

  Brahma gaped at me.

  “But you're also my friend, and I love you,” I went on. “So, I'm going to tell you how it is, and then I'm going to get you out of here.”

  “Vervain,” Brahma growled. “She's my wife!”

  “And you are her husband!” I shouted, shocking him into silence. “When we first met, I didn't know Sara, but now I do, Brahma. She may be your wife, but she's also my friend. I never thought it was going to become a problem because I knew you had stopped cheating on her.”

  “I did,” he whispered.

  “That's good.” I nodded. “And you're very lucky that she forgave you for those previous indiscretions. Because—let's be honest here—they were numerous.”

  Brahma deflated onto the lounge.

  “Admit it; you're angry because you're in the wrong,” I went on.

  “No,” he whispered brokenly. “I'm angry because she loved him.”

  “What?” I lifted my brows.

  “All of those women whom I slept with”—he waved a hand listlessly—“they meant nothing to me. Yes; I know that seems worse. To most women, it would. Why cheat if it means nothing? Well, I cheated because I was tempted, and I have never been denied anything, not in all of my existence. I wanted them, and so I took them. It was not in my nature to abstain.”

  “You're an arrogant son of a bitch; you know that?” I said affectionately.

  “I am,” he murmured in acceptance. “And she loved me anyway.”

  “And you screwed that up,” I said. “You hurt her, and she went looking for revenge. But Sara isn't like you. She can't just sleep around and have meaningless sex.”

  “No.” Brahma swallowed roughly. “She's far better than I. She's pure, and true, and so very beautiful; both inside and out. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I literally fucked it up. I would happily forgive her anything to have her back, but I cannot forgive him, Vervain. Because Rudra took more than my wife's body or her loyalty from me.”

  “He took her heart,” I whispered.

  Brahma nodded.

  “Is that true?” Sara's voice came through the door.

  “Sara?” Brahma perked up.

  The door opened and Sarasvati walked in. The others came in behind her.

  “Is that true, Brahma?” She asked again. “All of those things you just said about me? Is that how you really feel?”

  “Of course it's true,” Brahma huffed. “You know that I adore you. I would do anything for you, Sara. You're the most important person in my life. I would have shrugged off a meaningless affair, but knowing that you loved him is soul-crushing.”

  “I'm sorry,” Sara whispered. “But you shouldn't have shamed me.”

  “I didn't mean to cause you shame,” Brahma said as he stood and went over to her. “I love you, Sara. I always have; always will.”

  “I love you too,” Sara said just before she went into Brahma's embrace. “But you have to forgive Rudra just as I forgave those women you were with.”

  Brahma stiffened and his gaze lifted to Rudra's. The men stared hard at each other until finally, Brahma nodded.

  “All right, Sara,” Brahma gave in. “For you, anything.”

  We all breathed a sigh of relief, but we weren't completely at ease until we were back in Rudra's tracing room, and Brahma had traced away with his wife. I was about to trace too when Rudra spoke.

  “You're welcome back anytime, Vervain,” he said. “And it is a purely platonic offer. I have no intentions of getting between a married couple again... especially not a married... Oh, bluster it, what is the term for a relationship between five men and one woman?”

  “Fantastic,” I said with a smirk.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The next day, the Devil came to babysit.

  I refused to take Lesya to visit Luke and Holly in Hell. Their home was lovely, but getting to it required a trip through Hell's horrendous landscape. They agreed that it wasn't a good idea to put a child through that, and so they often came to see Lesya at Pride Palace instead. On this particular day, the ruling couple of Hell offered to watch Lesya so I could have some alone time with Azrael. Luke had heard that Az had some time off, and we never knew how long the Angel of Death had before he'd be called into work again. So, Daddy Lucifer came to watch his grandniece for us; giving us all some precious time with people we loved.

  Azrael and I went to Rome. We walked through the city holding hands, the smell of baking bread competing with simmering sauces being prepared for the night to come. We didn't do any of the touristy things. The Colosseum and the Vatican Museum are both lovely, but there are much better ways to see them than those involving standing in line for tickets for hours. Especially when you can glamour yourself into invisibility. Unfortunately, being invisible in the crowds that attend those places can be a bad thing. So, the first time we'd gone to Rome, Az had shown me the sights after hours.

  This time we had no interest in sightseeing, though. We just wanted to relax in a romantic place and spend some time with each other. I did a little shopping, and Azrael even chose a few things for himself. We bought a beautiful handmade doll for Lesya and a train set for Rian and Brevyn. Then we found a cafe, and sat outside, at an iron table, to watch the Romans walk by.

  “This place has changed so much, and yet it is still the same,” Azrael mused. “Though it smells a lot better now.”

  I laughed. “Sometimes I forget that you've been around so long.”

  “Sometimes I forget.” He grimaced. “Sometimes I want to forget.”

  “Feelin
g old?” I teased him.

  “Feeling tired.” Az sighed. “There are things that I wish I'd never seen.”

  “I think we all have memories like that,” I said softly. “You've just had a lot longer to accumulate them.”

  “And my responsibilities send me into the most tragic situations,” he added. “Sometimes it feels as if I must bear witness to all the world's suffering.”

  “Azrael,” I whispered. “I had no idea that you were so traumatized by your work.”

  “It's hard not to be,” he said. Then his voice dropped to a guilty whisper, “Carus, I wish there were a way out.”

  I sat there, staring at him in silence for a few minutes while I processed what he said. Azrael was the Angel of Death; if he quit, souls would stay within their corpses and... wait. Would they? How strong was human belief? Would it compel a soul to sit in a decaying corpse and wait for the Angel of Death to come for it, or would it simply move on to the Void?

  “Then let's find that way out,” I said firmly.

  “I can't,” his voice broke, and he covered his face with one hand. “Those people depend on me.”

  “Azrael”—I took his hand and eased it away from his face—“you are not trapped in this existence. You have enough energy to sustain yourself forever, and even if you didn't, you have a connection to me. I got you, baby. You know that, right?”

  “I know that when you vowed to share your life with me, you meant that you would share your life's energy as well.” Azrael nodded. “I know you'd never let me die; not if you could stop it. But the humans, Vervain. They depend on me to carry their souls where they are meant to go.”

  “They have had you for long enough.” I lifted my chin. “Tell me; what will happen if you don't claim a soul and take it to its afterlife?”

  Azrael blinked at me, considered my question, and then widened his eyes. The Gods had only recently discovered what the Void really was. Luke had suspected, but he hadn't known for sure until I had gone into the Void to bring back Odin's soul. Then I had met Alaric; the Consciousness of the Void, and he had confirmed it all and supplied me with even more information. The Void was where human and god souls went after death. The only thing stopping them from traveling there was belief and the magic of sacrifice. This combination formed a binding contract between humans and gods, and sometimes gods and gods. The soul went to the god it had willingly given itself to.

  “They would move on to the Void,” Azrael whispered the words as if he were a traitor for even thinking them.

  “Or perhaps they would make it to Heaven or Hell on their own,” I said. “Maybe your role is simply traditional. It's not like you're Charon, ferrying souls across a dangerous river.”

  Azrael looked affronted for a moment, and then he realized that it would be beneficial to him if what I was saying were true.

  “Do you think so?” He asked hopefully.

  “What happens when you're backed up, and souls are waiting for you?” I countered. “Have you ever left one waiting for longer than a day?”

  “No,” he murmured. “I can collect them fairly quickly. One swipe and I have them. Even in times of war, I've been able to keep up. Those few times that I've taken a vacation, Michael has seen to the souls.”

  “Maybe you should let the souls wait a day and see what happens with them,” I suggested.

  “Let those poor souls lay in their dead bodies so I can see if they'll move on by themselves?” He asked in horror.

  “Yes.”

  Azrael gaped at me, and then really thought about it.

  “You don't think I'm an awful person for doing this?” He asked.

  “Azrael, you're one of the most compassionate people I've ever known. You have done right by humans for over a thousand years; long after other gods have given up on them. I don't think you're awful for wanting to retire.”

  “Retire,” he tried the word out. “I could retire.”

  “Even if this experiment doesn't work out, we'll find a way,” I promised. “If you need to let this part of your life go, I will help you. We all will help you, Az.”

  Azrael made a choking sound that was half relief and half joy. He swallowed convulsively and said, “Thank you, Carus. You have no idea what this means to me.”

  “I love you, angel,” I said with a smile. “Whatever you want for yourself, I want it too.”

  “Right now”—he smirked—“I want you... very badly.”

  I lifted a hand to call our waiter. “Check please!”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  After a long, lazy afternoon in a Roman hotel room, where Azrael and I made love and then ordered room service—which we ate on the balcony—we returned to Pride Palace and spoke to Satan about Azrael retiring. Luke supported his son's decision fully and even offered to supply him with energy if necessary. The Devil had an unlimited supply of sacrifices coming his way since people were constantly blaming him for bad things they've done. Azrael wasn't all that surprised by his father's endorsement, but he was by his mother's.

  The Holy Spirit, aka Holly, was known for her sweet disposition and kind heart. She was obviously who Azrael got his compassion from. To have Holly's approval meant that not only was it okay for Azrael to want to be done with the death business, it also wasn't selfish or evil. The Holy Spirit herself had given him her consent, and in Azrael's pantheon, there was no higher seal of approval. Even Jerry ranked lower.

  Azrael hugged his mother in obvious relief.

  “You thought that I wouldn't approve?” Holly asked in shock.

  Azrael shrugged self-consciously.

  “You're my son, Azrael,” Holly chided him. “I want what's best for you, and carrying souls is a weight that I wouldn't have wished upon my worst enemy. It broke my heart when that magic chose you.”

  “Mom, no,” Azrael said softly. “It was my honor to see to the dead.”

  “And you have made me and your father so proud for all of these years with your untiring efforts to do so.” Holly smiled brilliantly. “You've done enough, Azrael. It's okay to accept that and move on.”

  “The souls will be fine, Son,” Luke said. “Energy must move; it is impossible for those souls to stay stagnant in their corpses. Simply impossible.”

  “But will they find Heaven?” Azrael asked.

  “If they don't, they'll find the Void and be given another go at life,” Luke said with a shrug. “And think of those guilty souls who you would have taken to Hell. They'll get a second chance. Isn't that a good thing?”

  Azrael made a surprised chuckle. “You're right. For a lot of humans, this could mean salvation.”

  “For the evil ones,” I muttered, suddenly feeling a little unsure about the whole thing.

  “Vervain, good and evil are subjective.” Luke looked at me with surprise. “The 'evil' souls who get sent to Hell are simply those who believe themselves to be so. We don't actually judge them. It is their guilt that sends them to Hell, not their deeds.”

  “What?” I whispered in horror. “So, you're saying that some little old lady who feels bad for some minor indiscretion she committed when she was a young woman, could go to Hell?”

  “If she believes the indiscretion to be horrible enough to send her there, then yes.” Luke nodded. “You know that human belief is what powers our magic and our world. Why does this surprise you?”

  “Well, human belief also dictates that God judges the souls,” I pointed out.

  “On the Scales of Justice.” Luke chortled. “An idea which the Christians took from the Egyptians.”

  I went still; memories of the times I'd seen those Egyptian scales in action filling my head.

  “I'm sorry, Vervain; I forgot about Anubis,” Luke said gently.

  “No; it's fine. I'm fine.” I stuttered.

  With a fair amount of shock, I realized that I wasn't over what Anubis had done to me. I thought I had forgiven him and moved on. I had forgiven him, but the ghosts of his evil still lurked in my head; their banshee sc
reams had become background music that I'd learned to live with. It made me wonder how many other horrors I was holding onto, just waiting for a reminder to bring them forth. Shit; maybe I needed therapy.

  “So, Jerry doesn't have any scales?” I tried to move past it for now.

  “No; the scales are metaphorical,” Luke explained with a worried look on my face. “But you've met Jerry; do you really think he spends all day judging souls when he could simply let them judge themselves?”

  “Valid.” I grimaced and then turned to Azrael. “And yet my husband spends most of his life caring for those same souls; several of whom don't belong in Hell.”

  “According to you,” Luke pointed out.

  “What?” I scowled at the Devil. “You just said that they weren't evil.”

  “No. What I said was; good and evil are subjective,” Luke corrected me. “Humans hold the scales, not gods. They write the myths and the laws of our religions, and they decide who is evil or not. We are only the enforcers.”

  “You're blowing my damn mind, Luke,” I huffed.

  Satan chortled.

  “What he means to say”—Holly interrupted us with a chiding look at her husband—“is that no one individual can accurately gauge good or evil. What I may think of as evil, you may see as good.”

  “How can evil be seen as good?” I asked.

  “You tell me, Godhunter,” Holly said pointedly.

  “Nope; you just told me.” I laughed. “Okay, Holly; I think I get it. Life isn't black or white, and neither is the afterlife.”

  “Precisely.” Holly grinned at me before transferring her excited gaze to her son. “Now, let's talk about what you'll do with this life, Azrael. You'll have a lot of free time on your hands. May I suggest putting more effort into making my grand-babies?”

  I groaned as Azrael smiled brilliantly, his eyes sparkling like diamonds.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Later that evening, we had a meeting with the God Squad to discuss the storm god situation. We had just got settled into our seats around the dining hall's fireplace when Re strode in.