by LJ Vickery
“Okay, so who was it?” he asked, grabbing the hand of his mate and holding on tightly.
“Not who, singular,” Nergal smirked. “Who―plural.”
“Huh?” Shamash looked suitably confused as did every other being in the room. Nergal savored the moment.
“Do you remember a lovely pair of dark-haired twins, by any chance?” The king of the Underworld looked to be enjoying himself immensely. “Mmm. Olive skin, upturned breasts…” he cleared his throat. “Do the names Abi and Arwi ring any kind of bell?”
Shamash screwed up his face but obviously, came up blank.
“Ah, I thought not,” the royal drawled. “I’m not surprised. You were exceedingly drunk in my voyeuristic journey.”
Verrie bit back a laugh. It was clear to her Nergal loved to “watch.”
He continued teasing, “I must say you showed a strong talent even while in a compromised state. You were able to…uh…sustain activities for a good portion of the night.”
Shamash looked suitably uncomfortable. Exhibitionism clearly wasn’t on his Christmas list.
“The girls, on the other hand, were magnificent. They were totally without boundaries and completely into celebrating.”
“Celebrating?” Shamash squeaked out.
“Oh, did I forget to mention? You were all high on a big score you had in court where you cleared Abi and Arwi’s dearest uncle of a murder charge.”
“Uselli, the butcher?” Sham’s vocal chords twanged. “Him, I remember.” He blinked twice. “His trial occurred in the fall of my final year in Babylon. It was the last time I was successful at court. I was framed with Aya’s death and sent to hell not two months later.” He stroked his chin. “I’ve always speculated I was set up as retribution for having cleared Uselli’s name.” His voice became bitter before he paused as if to clear his head of the trial.
Verrie figured he succeeded as his tongue swept out of his mouth and his eyes went wide.
“Did I…do his nieces? Those twins?” Everyone watched Sham swallow hard. “Shit. How could I not remember that? Those two were so hot…” He’d averted his lips so his deaf wife couldn’t see what he said, but he trailed off anyway. “Damn, I’m such an asshole.”
“Well,” Nergal continued his needling, “it wasn’t as if you had a choice. The uncle held a grand banquet in your behalf, plied you with drought after drought of some very fine mead, then sent his nieces off to ‘put you to bed.’”
Shamash groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “See, I told you. The local populace had been trying to get me to procreate for centuries…and I was always so careful. It wasn’t like Merrymount where we were completely anonymous and screwed around without thinking. Back in ancient days, everyone knew we were gods. It was almost a game to try to tie us to a mortal.” He raised resigned eyes to Nergal again. “So I…” he trailed off.
“Oh, you did,” the king confirmed. “Over and over, in all positions, and with great gusto…”
“Enough,” Shamash’s voice regained its strength, and he’d clearly had it with the sexual revelations in front of his wife. He switched his focus to Marduk. “So where do we go from here?”
Marduk rubbed a hand down his face, thinking. “Dumuzi’s timeline shows his episodes began sixteen or eighteen years after you were banished which would correspond with the adolescence of a child you might have spawned. Those episodes continued, off and on, until he joined us in hell in 17AD. I’d say it’s time for you and Lahar to take yourselves off to the Middle East and do some digging.”
“Right,” Lahar agreed. “We’ll see if we can find birth records for a child…or children from your twins.”
“Not my twins,” Sham grumbled.
Lahar ignored him. “We’ll see if we can follow that line forward to not only Sienna and Verrie but to Frank and Riley. I’d say it’s pretty much a done deal what we’ll uncover.”
“You’re also looking for any unusual occurrence of demon activity during the first two hundred and fifty-six years of Muze’s life,” Marduk reminded him. “He doesn’t remember exact dates, but he was tormented on and off during that entire period. I trust you to dig up everything you can.”
There were snickers in the room. Sometimes with ancient cuneiform, digging up was exactly what had to happen.
“Okay, we’re off.” Sham got up, turned, and kissed his wife goodbye, then popped from the room.
“Bloody hell,” Lahar groused, wanting to follow, but walking to the door instead. “I can’t wait to get a Chosen if just for the ability to mist out again at will.”
Complain, complain, Ninurta’s invisible self cut in. At least you can smell, taste, and feel again. Try being the only one left without a body.
“Yeah, okay, Galahad,” Lahar replied sarcastically. “That’s your own, celibate fault.” The ram-god’s boots sounded down the hallway until they too disappeared.
“Now.” Marduk rubbed his hands together, expectantly. “I suggest some demon hunting, do you all agree?” He looked around the room at his fellow gods with eager eyes.
“I wholly concur,” Nergal answered. “Especially, since I found from interrogating Nedu, he’s been in league with a rogue bunch of demons for centuries…dating back to ancient times.”
“You’re shitting me?” Marduk barked in surprise. “Fuck,” he continued. “I’d forgotten all about you grilling the god with all the crap going on here. Demons? Nedu? I had my suspicions he was a moron, and now we know. What idiot god would get involved with demons?” Marduk ground his teeth and turned to Dagon, mumbling. “Sorry, man. Present company excluded.” He turned back to Nergal with a little less enthusiasm. “What else did you find out?”
“I pulled a number of interesting and disturbing things from his brain.” The king shook his head. “Confirming facts which Matthew proposed, including those regarding my infant son. Beletseri had nothing to do with the death of Girin. Not only that, but for years our dear Underworld secretary has been used as a pawn by Nedu and this group of demons…for the sole purpose of gaining control over your group of gods—with a decided ramp up after you began to regain your bodies here on earth.”
“What?” Marduk grunted questioningly, and every god sat up straighter in their chairs.
“That’s right. The demons, led by someone higher up the food chain, who our interrogated god cannot name, has been pulling Nedu’s strings, orchestrating his actions for years. He, in turn, was manipulating Bel.”
“Gods. Who could be behind it?” Enlil had his arms crossed over his chest and looked ready to kill.
“Unfortunately, I don’t know. That’s where Nedu’s brain totally broke down.” Nergal looked disgusted. “The god of the gate was a lot weaker than I imagined, and his cranium―trying to hide things from me―couldn’t take my deeper probing. All I know is before his synapses collapsed in on themselves, he was still absolutely certain he’d be the right-hand man to someone who verged on great importance if their mission to enslave you all succeeded.”
Marduk turned to Dagon who had been sitting very quietly throughout the afternoon. “Dagon. You know more about demons than anyone but Nergal.” If Marduk was stroking the god’s ego to make up for his previous comment, it wasn’t mentioned. Dumuzi filled Verrie in again.
At one time, Dagon aligned himself against the gods and recruited demons for his own ends. Meeting his Chosen, Holly and mending fences with his cousin, Anshar shifted his allegiance firmly back with the gods.
The thunder god still pontificated, “You speak several of their languages fluently and understand even more dialects. Are you aware of a group of demons more scurrilous than most?”
Dagon looked sharply at his friends and tented his fingers. “I’ve heard rumors there are some highly intelligent factions down below. We came across some roughly organized bands ourselves.” He reached for his wife, Holly’s hand. Once again Dumuzi brought Verrie up to speed.
She braved hell to bring him back to earth, and with the hel
p of a group of Underworld good-guys we call the glowies, they battled many different species.
“The ones who come to mind, most specifically, are the ones who can become invisible and spew poisonous gas, but I’m pretty sure we know where all that group is located.” Dagon deferred to Nergal.
“Dagon’s correct. I have a modicum of control over the creatures living within my immediate jurisdiction, and all of them are accounted for. I’ve checked.” He turned thoughtful. “I believe we must be dealing with a different sector of hell altogether. One that is not under my direct scrutiny. I may need to call together all my minor kings to initiate a demon counting census.”
“It sounds like a rational approach,” Dagon nodded. “Both uggla and dwall are cross-species words, so they don’t help us at all with our search.”
“Okay, then the time for speculation is over,” Marduk stated. “Muze. You’re off to the dungeons. Jake, Candy, will you take him down and make sure he’s secure?”
“Sure thing, boss man.” Candy gave him a fresh little salute. Verrie could tell there was a teasing thing the two engaged in, but as cute as it was, it didn’t take her mind off of the fact she was about to raise some demons. She’d let her mind flow with all that had been said by Nergal and the others, but the bottom line, it was her head the creatures had been invading―hers and Sienna’s―and the next bit of business wasn’t going to be fun at all. Still, her heart went out to Dumuzi.
“Will you be all right?” she asked, afraid her sudden and unexplained feelings for him showed in her eyes, but she couldn’t seem to do anything about it.
“I’ll be fine.” Dumuzi reached out and stroked her cheek. It was comforting and electrifying all at the same time. “Unlike the other guys, I don’t remember a single thing when I’m…turned,” he revealed before putting a scowl on his face. “I just don’t like the idea you’re contacting those cretins.”
“Look on the bright side, Muze,” Anshar put in. “As soon as we find out where they hide, you can let your inner beast loose, track them down, and destroy them all.”
Verrie could see the pulse in the side of Dumuzi’s neck beat harder—the thought excited him.
“You’re right, Anshar. We can all put our bad-hats on and kick some demon ass,” he said excitedly. “After all the torment they’ve put Verrie’s family through and the fucked-up number they’ve done on me, I think we’ll make short work of them.”
“That’s the spirit,” Absu said, rousingly. “First blood to the avenging gods, I say.”
Verrie would have laughed at the proper English gent if she hadn’t been so anxious.
“Okay. Get moving.” Marduk tipped his head to the door. “And Jake, let me know when he’s under lock and key so Verrie can begin.”
“Sure thing.” Jake and Candy followed Dumuzi through the door, and Marduk turned to the remaining goddesses in the room.
“If you wouldn’t mind, ladies,” he began, “since none of you speak demon, and all the gods have a rudimentary understanding, I’d like you to form that protective energy circle around Sienna again while Verrie attempts contact. There is no reason for both ladies to suffer.”
“Thank you, Marduk.” Verrie let out half of her tension. She was nervous enough about this without having to worry about her daughter’s well-being. She watched Lenore herd Tess, Holly, Quinn, Obedience, and Charlie into place around Sienna. While Lenore, Vesca, Anna, Dani-Lee, Addie-May, and Glory made a second barrier around that group. Once in place, Verrie felt the humming energy crank up. That was one powerful bunch of women.
Jake’s voice from the cellar hit their heads all at once. Muze is secure. Matthew is bitching like a pussy about being in the cell next to him, but Candy thinks it’ll be good entertainment, so let her rip.
Thanks, Jake, Marduk sent back, then turned to her. “Are you ready, Verrie?”
There wasn’t any way she’d ever be ready for this. But she succeeded in convincing herself at least this attempt was being made in a controlled environment with gods, humans, and blue guys―all bigger than life―around her to help if things got out of hand.
She took a deep breath and went deep. She’d never tried being the one to initiate contact, but she didn’t think it would be difficult.
Chapter Fourteen
The first thing that alerted Verrie she was about to be successful was the screaming from the basement, drowned out by the loudest, most guttural roaring she had ever heard. It almost derailed her already tentative probing to contact the demons. Verrie’s mouth went dry. Clearly, it was Dumuzi making the more hideous of the two noises, and…
“Matthew’s getting an eyeful,” Anshar snickered quietly, confirming her thoughts that the as-yet-unmet Matthew voiced the hysterical outbursts.
“Shh,” Marduk quieted Anshar with a stern look, and Verrie straightened up too. It wouldn’t do to get distracted. She attempted to concentrate again.
Let’s see… Demons. Where are you? She dared poke harder and felt her self-imposed brain restrictions drop away. Let me hear you, demon-boys, Verrie postured. She could do this. She let out a deep breath and reached for her dominant self, the one she hardly ever dared pull out but had now used twice in the same afternoon. Come on, you bastards. Are you afraid? Afraid because I’m seeking you out instead of the other way around? Let me hear you, she taunted. Come play under my rules now.
Verrie was fully aware on one side of her, Nergal had plugged into her head in such a way he could hear everything she would hear. Dagon on the other side had made the same connection. They, in turn, would broadcast the things that came through her to the other gods in the room and to Dorian. If she understood correctly, the dark warlock was a member of some other-worldly governing board and held legal jurisdiction in all realms, including that of Nergal. Kind of like an uber-policeman…and he looked the part.
Uggla.
Damn, her mind had wandered, and she hadn’t been prepared for the cutting pain accompanying the one-word greeting that came back. Verrie now knew the word meant goddess. Which she wasn’t…yet.
How do you say ‘not a goddess’ in demon? Verrie gritted out to Nergal. She kept a good hold on her composure despite the discomfort.
“Try ‘Nugt a Uggla’,” Nergal told her. “If they speak any of the languages with which we’re familiar, they’ll understand.”
Verrie repeated the words strongly to the demons and received a small tirade in answer.
Glah bah uggla. Glah bah dwigg gul.
Shit. That hurt. Verrie grabbed her head and attempted to keep her stomach from lurching.
Got it. Dagon crowed, either ignoring her discomfort or completely unaware her protoplasm was under fire. They say you are the goddess, and you’re the one they seek. We should try to draw from them the reason they seek you, so let’s get them riled enough, they’ll drop their guard. Call them cowardly bastards for daring to bother you and your family.
Dagon gave her the words, and with a dredging of fortitude, she repeated them in what she hoped was an aggressive tone.
There followed a bunch of indistinct babble that sounded highly irate and had Verrie moaning and gripping the seat of her chair as each torturous syllable flew back at her. On top of that, a voice from the basement that was Dumu—but not Dumuzi—suddenly joined in.
Leave her, he spat. Then loosed what must have been a repeat of those words in demon-ese. Gralt geh, adding, Continue to torment her and I will kill you all. As those words were duplicated, Verrie could almost see venom dripping from some kind of fangs. A visual? Was she getting a look at the demons…or Dumuzi?
Degga gunt? A rasping voice asked a question, and Nergal laughed.
Ahh, so they haven’t come across Dumuzi before. The king sounded happy. They want to know who he is.
There was a lot of growling from the demons and worried snuffling sounds. Apparently, Dumuzi was a wild card they’d never been able to hear before―even though they affected him―and they didn’t like the outside involvement.
Glah gralt, the demons hissed.
Verrie had been paying attention to the words previously spoken, and despite her level of pain, she knew the beings had said, “leave her.”
You bastards are the ones who will leave, Dumuzi spewed. If you don’t, I will rip you apart with my claws and devour your stinking flesh. This was reiterated, even more vehemently―if that was possible―in the demon tongue.
Now Verrie wondered who was more terrifying? The spawn from hell she’d experienced all her adult life or her nascent―gulp―mate? He sounded scary as shit.
While all of this went on, Verrie vaguely registered gods popping in and out of the room. She could tell Marduk was getting excited.
This is good, Verrie. Keep them talking a little longer. We’ve ruled out Nergal’s realm below the Mariana Trench.
If Verrie hadn’t felt like the top of her head was about to explode, she would have giggled. His orders made the situation sound like a bad cop show. Keep them on the line a little longer…one ringy-dingy, two ringy-dingy, call for Ms. Foxie from the depths of hell. Geez. Was she losing it?
Gaddawah gralt uggla.
Okay. There was a new one, and it sounded like the speaker was having a hissy fit.
Translation please, your royal hotness? Verrie snickered, and her head spun. Ooh. She was beginning to feel very…floaty. With a detached curiosity, she recognized her body had taken over and was injecting natural morphine into her bloodstream to combat the pain. This was something she’d never had to do consciously, it had been a side-effect of the voices that developed over time. She’d forgotten how loopy she got…or was this more fucked up than usual?
Uh…monster leave goddess, Nergal answered with a quirked eyebrow, looking at her with suspicion. Verrie was squinting from the headache, but she was still able to see the king glance questioningly at Marduk. What’s happening to Verrie?