by LJ Vickery
“Okay, you two. Finish the kissing-and-making-up shit so we can get back to the compound. Or do you need to find a room?” Enlil got two bird-salutes before the pair turned, arms around each other’s shoulders to begin the brisk walk back to the compound. Even though all of them but Dumuzi could mist out, it was unspoken they weren’t going to leave the god alone in case he had another episode.
Ten minutes later, Dumuzi found himself laughing out loud watching Quinn’s antics, amazed he could feel this good so soon after he’d wigged out so badly.
The gamine goddess was all lit up, watching Dani stitch up her god, darting in and out around the doctor, poking her husband’s arms, legs and―if Dumuzi wasn’t mistaken―sneaking a quick pinch to his nipples and his ass on every other turn.
This is completely cool, Spot.
Dumuzi choked back a laugh at Quinn’s nickname for her big cat. And rather than being angry Dumuzi had caused the slash, Quinn had thanked him. It makes you look all rough and tough. Are you sure we can’t keep it? Her tongue came out of its own volition, aimed at the top of her mate’s boo-boo. She was just able to pop it back in before contact, and Muze was surprised she suppressed the instincts that compelled her to lap Shamash “all better.”
It will only stay if we rip it open again seven or eight times in the exact same place. So, no, we won’t, Sham said patiently. It hurts like a son-of-a-bitch.
Quinn gave a pout at the pronouncement while Dani stepped back and snipped the sutures. Her pout quickly changed to a satisfied smirk. All finished, babe, she proclaimed to her husband.
Shamash blinked, and Muze stifled another laugh. Damned if Quinn’s sexy posturing hadn’t done its job. Dani had been able to finish stitching without Shamash going all cat-aclysmic at the doc’s ministrations—sweet.
“Just in time,” Dani declared. “We’re due in Marduk’s office in…” She looked at her watch. “…three minutes. Huxley says the airport group is just coming up the driveway with Sienna’s mom and Riley’s grandmother. Time to roll.”
Dumuzi got to his feet and experienced a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach again. He reached a shaking hand out to rest on Archie’s warm head, but the dog gave him no sign of impending doom. Okay. He let out a shaky breath. It was not the kind of “bad feeling” that preceded a change, but still, the disquieting flutter invading his insides was very un-him.
Muze had made it a point throughout his entire life to let drama and angst roll past, keep his emotions tamped down so he wouldn’t turn into his beast. So, what the fuck was happening now? What disturbed him? All signs pointed to Sienna but being in her actual presence hadn’t made him feel agitated, just regretful. Fuck. Here was the second time today he’d had this…unsettledness. What the hell was going on?
He warily followed Sham, Quinn, and Dani from the infirmary, not looking forward to what was about to unfold. Something bad was making his stomach clench. He thought for a moment. Duh. Of course, he was about to meet Sienna’s mother, and shortly thereafter, fill her head with the compound’s godly credentials before convincing the woman she had to let her underage daughter mate with him. Yeah. That was enough to send him scurrying for the peppermint, chamomile, and ginger…or Pepto-Bismol for anyone else who wasn’t the god of all growing things.
Dumuzi’s feet hit the landing twenty feet above the front hallway at the same time the front door swung inward, and his whole body froze. His angst instantly reached epic proportions. Warning! Warning! He wanted to tell everyone to get down and protect themselves. Potent energy surged into the house, energy of an unexplained kind with an invisible source. Were they under attack? Had the enemy somehow infiltrated?
Dumuzi looked around, his tongue paralyzed. Not one of the other gods looked worried. Nobody else felt it? Hell. They all continued laughing and talking as if nothing was happening. Even Archie seemed unaffected.
He found himself in a partial crouch, eyes moving over the banister to take in the group below, more on edge than he’d ever been in his life. His gaze moved past the relaxed-looking agent’s faces, past the pretty older woman behind them, and into the middle of a protective ring of gods. Here was the source of the distressing energy, and Dumuzi was powerless to stop it.
Invisible tendrils only he could see began climbing their way towards him. They streamed straight at him, taking on color and life as they neared. Holy shit. Dumuzi knew.
He clutched the wooden railing in front of him as his body became surrounded and wrapped tightly in a cocoon of…warmth. Dammit. He was so screwed.
Sienna wasn’t his Chosen. Her mother was.
Mine, mine, mine, his brain chanted as his muscles worshiped the feeling of being enveloped. His silent, repetitive words must have skipped right over everyone’s heads, penetrating the only gray matter that…mattered. The nondescript, dishwater blonde at the center of the agent’s circle turned and looked upward. Her mouth dropped open, and she too became immobile. They locked eyes for an indescribable moment, but she must have been impacted in a different way than Dumuzi. Either that or the tendrils he’d inadvertently sent back down in return for hers girdled her too tightly. The woman’s lids fluttered, and she crumpled to the ground.
“No,” Dumuzi’s voice reverberated from the marble floor to the domed, stained glass ceiling. Every eye in the house focused on him except for Doctor Dani’s. She popped out and wafted in next to the downed woman, already busy checking her vitals.
“What the…” Marduk looked up, then down. “Oh.”
“She’s fine,” Dani-Lee announced loudly, interrupting. “It must have been all the excitement.”
“Hah. Any more excitement around here and we’ll all be dead,” Marduk continued, his mouth quirked in a knowing smile. He pinpointed Dumuzi with a stare. “Looks like we had that one all wrong, hey, Muze?” Marduk’s words affirmed the vines wrapped around Dumuzi’s heart were real…and there to stay. Yes. No. Shit. Shit. Fuck.
“What’s going on, Marduk?” Tess and her entourage herded Sienna into the room. They’d missed the excitement. Sienna’s mother was still down, but coming around, and Dumuzi was aware the minute Sienna spotted her.
“Mom.” She flew out from the protective entourage of women. The agents and gods quickly parted and allowed the girl to rush to her mom’s side before closing up ranks again.
Marduk’s voice, answering his wife, blocked out the low, soothing words passing between mother and daughter. “It turns out Sienna is not Dumuzi’s Chosen…” he paused for effect. “…but her mother is.”
Marduk grinned and spoke to the vegetation god again. “Nice going, causing her to pass out when she got a look at your ugly cabbage,” he teased. “I do believe that’s a first. None of us has ever caused our intended to wilt.”
“Intended?” The voice came up, surprisingly strong from the midst of the group on the floor. “What the hell? Are you all batshit crazy?”
With help from Dani and a stunned-looking Sienna, the woman got to her feet, all―instantly―no-nonsense. “I came here to get my daughter, nothing more.” She looked around the packed front entry, clearly witness to all the hands covering up smug smiles. Her brows drew together even more sharply. “Do I make myself clear?”
Heads nodded, but Dumuzi was a few mental steps behind. Most of his brain hadn’t heard her question. He needed to hit play-back to be certain of what she’d said, but it didn’t matter. There was only one thing on his mind, and he gave voice to it. His uncharacteristically imperative tone carried downward.
“Your name?” he rasped out, his voice ringing with urgency. “What is your name?”
The woman refused to look up at him. She clearly would not meet his eyes again. Dumuzi felt empty, but he got it. If Sienna’s mother had been hit as hard as he had, she’d be scared shitless, however, she surprised him.
“Veronica Foxey,” she called out, her eyes fixed on a far wall, her answer strong.
“Verrie, for short,” Flick’s impish voice cut in, then paused
for dramatic effect. “Verrie. Get it?” he repeated. “She’s Verrie Foxey,” he snickered.
“Flick. Not good.” Anger crept up Dumuzi’s spine as he growled. “You need to shut up. Now.” His hands could easily slip around the agent’s throat if he were closer—damn lucky for the irreverent human they were a floor apart. The god managed a deep breath and swore to himself. So, this was the jealousy thing all the guys talked abo—the feeling of totally owning and being owned, to the point of violence. He didn’t like it, too much emotion flooding his drought-dulled cells like an irrigation system suddenly thrust open. It was wonderful. It was awful.
Shut down…shut down. Dumuzi slowly regained control. Dammit. The sooner he could go back into dormancy, the better off everyone would be.
In the aftermath of the deluge of emotion, Muze saw Hux grab Flick and say something low to the agent he didn’t catch. By the color that drained from Flick’s face, it was probably something along the lines of “screw with a god’s Chosen, especially this one, and die a slow and painful death.”
Yup. Dumuzi was feeling all that and didn’t it just suck.
He tried to shake himself free from the fucked-up grip, but an instant splicing had already taken place between him and his mate, and it was all too real. She had, with a single look, insinuated herself into every cell in his body, and he already felt her growing there. Dammit. He needed to stop the progression. She could not become a part of him.
The situation had to remain as before…as he’d assumed it would be with Sienna. Just because the faces had changed―and he now resembled walking wood―didn’t mean the parameters of his imminent relationship should change. He needed to stay strong, stick to the course he’d self-prescribed. In order to follow those rules, he brought up faces from his past.
There. A deep breath out. There was his path back to becoming remote and detached. All he needed to do was remember how he’d failed everyone he’d ever loved. The faces, easily recalled, were a cautionary litany.
Now he’d be able to keep Veronica―he couldn’t think of her as Verrie―from passing his boundaries. He would not repeat history’s mistakes.
Dumuzi looked down at his legs, willing them to move. Once he got them going, a less than graceful descent of the staircase ensued. Shit. His knees still felt partially petrified. But fuck it. He’d get over it. The god reached the main floor, and brushed by Marduk, ignoring his future mate to head for the thunder god’s office.
“Don’t we have a meeting to attend?” he snarled over his shoulder. “We need to get everything explained and out in the open so we can move things along.”
“Smooth, Dumuzi,” Marduk elbowed in beside him and growled into his ear. “The least you could do is greet your woman.”
“Not interested, Marduk,” he lied. “Let’s just get this over with, okay?” He pushed the meeting room door open but tuned in to what went on behind him.
“Verrie, hon,” ―it had to be the older woman’s voice― “I know you wah on yeh ass, but have yeh taken a good look around? I think we’ve fallen into Chippendale heaven.” She dropped her voice. “And that redhead who just walked through the doah is tryin’ like hell to keep yoah dollah bills from endin’ up in his g-string.”
There was a lot of tense laughter from his friends following that ridiculous bit of nonsense, and Dumuzi wished he could scoop his ears out so he wouldn’t have to hear any more.
“Whatevah it is that shot between the two a yeh was awesome.”
Dead silence met that statement. Good. Veronica was sticking with denial, too.
“Cat got yeh tongue, V?” the woman questioned, not getting a response.
“Nope, I don’t,” Sham answered into the void without thinking, and his buddies cracked up for real this time. Dumuzi huffed. At least the leopard had broken the god-awful tension which helped slap Muze back to reality.
Damn. He was going to have to try harder not to be such a complete asshole as things progressed. He and his friends needed Veronica to undergo the amulet ceremony with him, and he needed to join with her―just once―to consummate their union. If she thought he was a prick, they’d never get all that accomplished.
He needed to be a little charming, a little complimentary, but not enough she had any expectations they would have a future together. It was going to take some delicate pruning for Muze to know how many of their intertwining branches he should allow to grow…and which ones needed to be bluntly severed.
Chapter Eight
The silence in the meeting room was broken by Verrie’s attention-getting cough. Strange. Dumuzi expected her to settle down in her chair and take a back seat at the proceedings to see what would unfold, but apparently, she had something to say.
“You know, I hear all of you in my head…” she began, standing up.
Dumuzi took the time to really look at her now that she was close and paying no attention to him. She looked young despite the fact she had to be in her late thirties because of Sienna’s age. Her figure―in a form-fitting, white t-shirt and skinny jeans―showed off average sized breasts and a trim double-hand-full ass. Not his normal type, but certainly nice. Her hair, shoulder-length and a blonde too plain for description, was neither straight nor curly, simply framing her face in a non-intrusive way.
Dumuzi honestly felt he would never have given her a second look back in the day if not for two stunning features—Veronica’s vivid blue eyes flecked with shards of gold, the exact colors of a Pipevine Swallowtail butterfly, and her lush, bow-shaped lips. Succulent lips he could already imagine nipping and sucking into the warm cavity of his mouth. His cock stirred. Yeah. Those lips were unbelievable, but he needed to cut the crap and shut down his dick’s attempt at show and tell.
Dumuzi forced his gaze back to the whole package. Otherwise prim and authoritative, he found nothing else that would make him stir. He keyed back in to her voice—provocative, smooth—it flowed like cool rain on a parched field. Damn. Interested again. He didn’t need that complication. Why were there so many things about her to like even when trying to discredit her attributes?
“…which is very disconcerting in itself,” she continued. Veronica gazed around the circle at the sitting and standing crowd. “But what I’m finding most disturbing, other than the fact my daughter, my friends, and I are reluctant ‘guests’ in your home,”―yeah, she’d put a lot of emphasis on guests,― “is the fact that you have someone in your ‘dungeon’”―more emphasis― “in a ‘jail cell’”―one more time― “and nobody’s paying any heed to his loud ranting.”
Sienna and Riley broke in with a quick, “We’re hearing it, too.”
Veronica nodded and continued her sexy little speech.
“Is that where we’re going to end up?” She tried not to show any fear, but Dumuzi, already so in tune with her, saw the corner of her right eye twitch. He almost spoke, but Marduk beat him to it.
“Hell, no.” The thunder god quickly squashed that train of thought. “Matthew is a…a… he’s a…” He stumbled over his choice of words, but luckily, King Nergal took over.
“Matthew is a traitor who, despite his criminal acts, may be given a chance to redeem himself. That is the reason he is here, in a clean and well cared for area of the lower floors, and not in the bowels of my realm where he could, eventually, end up.”
“The bowels of your realm?” Veronica’s eyebrows couldn’t have raised any higher. “What are you talking about? Who are you people?”
“Nergal, your grace,” Marduk placated the king who bristled at being questioned, “we’ve yet to fill Sienna’s mother or her friend in on our background. If we could just take this slowly…”
“Screw slowly,” the woman named Frank interjected, and before she could take her poor choice of words back, laughs and elbows flew. Dumuzi got the same instant picture in his mind all the smut-loving individuals in the room conjured. Frank was a damned fine-looking woman even if she was a human getting up in years. Any one of them―if not mated―would
pleasure her in a heartbeat.
As a point of interest, Dumuzi shot a glance to Ishkur, their gray-haired god. Funny, he was the only one not laughing and was looking anywhere but at Frank. Not a Chosen kind of chemistry between the two, but a possible hook-up? Dumuzi made a mental note to keep an eye on that one.
“Ha-ha,” Frankie, also studiously avoiding the side of the room where Ishkur stood, joined in sarcastically. “Foh the recuhd, I nohmally like it fast and hahd.” Her bright green eyes flashed around, selectively. “But none of you guys could handle me, so no use gettin’ yuhselves worked up.” She got back on track. “But enough bullshit. Verrie has a damned good question. Who and what the hell ah you guys, anyway?”
“They’re gods, Gram,” Riley couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “From ancient Mesopotamia.” Both Frank and Veronica looked like they were about to speak when Sienna pre-empted them, getting up to walk toward her mother.
“It’s true, Mom.” She gripped Veronica’s arm. “They showed us some neat stuff only gods could do. And Mom, don’t you get it?” She paused and looked her mother right in the eye. “We can hear their voices in our heads. Doesn’t that tell you anything? Doesn’t that make you feel just the teensiest bit curious to know…with our problems…we can hear gods? Like maybe we’re not fucked up in the head?”
“Language, Si,” her mother cautioned, looking a little like she might fall to the floor at any moment. Dumuzi unconsciously moved closer. If anyone was picking Veronica up off of the hardwood, it would be him.
“But,” Veronica glanced around as if unsure whether to say more, then went for broke. “Their voices are human, honey. English. The ones I’ve been hearing,” she narrowed her eyes at her daughter and shook her head, “and the ones you’ve apparently been hearing as well, speak some rough, odd, garbled language.” She was obviously pained and couldn’t help herself from asking. “Why didn’t you tell me it was happening to you too, Sienna?”
“Because I knew you got better when you moved to Colorado,” her daughter explained. “And I wanted to finish high school here. I figured I could handle it for one more year. Then I could come live with you.”