by T. G. Ayer
Gods Ascendent
The Apsara Chronicles Book 2
T.G. Ayer
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Dark Sight - A Dark Sight Novel #1 Sample Chapters
Dark Sight Ch1
Dark Sight
Skin Deep - A SkinWalker Novel #1 Sample Chapters
Skin Deep Ch1
Skin Deep Ch2
Skin Deep
Blood Magic - A SoulTracker 1 Sample Chapters
Blood Magic Ch1
Blood Magic Ch2
Blood Magic
Dead Radiance - A Valkyrie Novel 1 Sample Chapters
Dead Radiance - Chapter 1
Dead Radiance - Chapter 2
The Valkyrie Series
Also by T.G. Ayer
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Chapter 1
Vee ducked, glad when the bullet that had been aimed at her heart whizzed over her shoulder instead. Life seemed to keep throwing things at Vee, and she had to wonder when the day would come when she would not be able to survive it.
Not that she wasn’t up for the challenge. It was just there was only so much a girl could take.
Vee grunted, pain flaring in her wing as the bullet tore through the fragile dragonfly skin, leaving a ragged hole behind. She glanced up at the wound, scowling at the ripped membrane, which—despite the injury—still shimmered, incandescent even in the murky light.
Vee sucked in a breath and sank low, shaking her head at her carelessness. She ought to be aware of the dangers by now, ought to know that despite the power of her ethereal appendages, they were still as fragile as a butterfly’s wing.
Even without hellhounds and owl-shifters to watch her back.
A twinge of worry ripped through Vee’s gut. But she couldn’t afford to be distracted by thoughts of her missing bodyguard. Besides, she could protect herself well enough.
So said the guns and knives strapped to her upper thighs, the blades in her boots and the chakra tied to a loop at her waist, not to mention the trishula, hidden by godly glamor and currently hanging from a strap off her shoulder. She’d dressed in as close to all-black combat gear as she was inclined to get; jeans, turtleneck, warm multi-pocketed jacket and beanie to hide her hair. Her only concession to style? Refusing to wear combat boots and instead running after demons in a pair of medium-heeled, sexy knee-high leather boots.
No-one gets between Vee and her boots.
Fashion aside, Vee was well-equipped to protect herself. Or so she’d believed. She was now tempted by Mac’s offer of bulletproof clothing, just so that she could minimize the risk. Nivaan had been pushing the issue as well—him being all protective of her was very sweet, but he’d better not push it. Still, considering what she came across on a daily basis, protective gear would be a welcome bonus.
Only problem? As far as she knew, bulletproof clothing didn’t come in wing size.
Now, she folded her wings as close to her body as she could; she had to protect them as much as possible if she had any hope of using them should the time come.
How incongruous. A badass, demon-killing apsara with fragile diaphanous wings? It just didn’t fit. That was like giving Lara Croft a feather instead of a knife.
Vee shifted her gaze around the warehouse, then peered between the two crates in front of her, trying to get a look at her assailant. The place was one gigantic room, housing thousands of boxes, crates, and small shipping containers. Lots of places to hide.
Two months had passed since her entire life had changed. Dreams had come true, her greater fears had been realized, and she’d been granted boons from the gods.
Boons, and gods. When related to Vee herself, she had to wonder if such blessings would be a precursor to more trials and tribulations in the future. Good things never just fell into Vee’s lap. They usually came accompanied by bad news, trouble, or a bucket load of crap.
And the gods? Gods were known to be a fickle lot—back when they used to exist, of course. Vee wanted to laugh. She’d never expected that she’d ever have to face a real god. Gods had faded from existence centuries ago, and most people had ceased believing. Vee included.
Now, she believed.
Wings were a damned good reason to believe.
So were chakras and trishulas.
Vee had just ducked behind a large box when it exploded, sending her flying backward. Shards of wood turned into a barrage of deadly missiles as they flew through the air. Vee landed hard on her back, narrowly missing a squadron of jagged stakes. The trishula clinked as it hit the floor and Vee felt the wings at her back crumpling beneath her weight. She knew by now not to be too concerned with smashing or folding the fragile appendages; they seemed impervious to that kind of damage.
Bullet-holes were another thing altogether.
Her wing now throbbed where the bullet had ripped it apart, aggravated from falling onto the injured appendage, and as she rolled over and scrambled for cover behind the nearest support column—a massive square concrete pole—Vee struggled for breath.
She forced herself to calm down, her mind going to her grandmother, Radha, channeling some of the matriarch’s sense of peace. As Vee exhaled, she felt a veil of calm envelop her, and her thoughts cleared, the fog of pain evaporating, her mind quickening.
Vee reached for the chakra strapped to her waist. As soon as her fingers grazed the carved metal it began to shimmer, the gold letting off an intense glow. Vee frowned, aware the light would call attention to her hiding-place behind the pole. She drew a glamor over the weapon, the way Syama had taught her, summoning the power of the elements to camouflage the chakra’s heavenly luminescence.
Vee had been passionately learning how to cast a glamor, pleasantly surprised to find the skill within her range of powers. The ability hadn’t yet reached optimum efficiency though, so she worked with the assumption of a fifty percent chance of failure to hide herself.
Vee blinked. And now she hit an all-time low. The glamor wasn’t working. She considered a second try, but she didn’t have the time to mess around.
Instead, she took a breath, lifted her chin and yelled, “Stop. Give up. You know you’ve got nowhere to run.” Her words echoed around the warehouse, disappearing into the rafters high above.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Vee’s assailant replied, his tone a deep, gravelly baritone. “You’re injured. I can tell you’re in pain.” He took a long, loud and lusty breath and then let out a howling laugh. The
sound was manic and held a note of utter joy within it.
Shit.
Vee scrambled for ideas. The bhayakara demon she fought was one who lived on pain, who created disharmony and grief in order to feed off the agony his victims experience. She’d never known such a thing was possible until Karan had called a few hours ago.
He’d given her a rundown on a possible pain demon loose on the streets of New York. She’d taken the case, passed the details on to her superior, Anthony Rossi, and had gone directly to the location. Which had turned out to be a warehouse filled with boxes, some of which contained bad imitations of life-sized Greek and Roman statues.
She grimaced as she ducked behind the pillar to avoid being hit in the face by a chunk of curved white buttocks. Near Vee’s foot was a lone breast, pale white with the nipple chopped off. Hard to tell if it had once belonged to a girl or a guy.
Vee shook her head. Focus.
Bhayakara were tricky demons, surreptitiously feeding on human pain and terror, deliberately causing that fear over a period of time. They were intelligent, diligent, and persistent.
And when they were desperate they became dangerous, and often careless.
Vee had gotten lucky that this particular demon hadn’t fed in a while. He’d been desperate for a dose of energy-giving terror and had left a strong aural image at the home of his most recent victim. The woman had barely been alive, sucked dry of her emotions, but Vee had seen enough of his aura trail to follow him right to the warehouse.
She ducked down, thinking hard. A row of twenty-foot containers shielded her, though probably not for long. She raised her wings and tested them, glad to see that they appeared to be fully functional despite the gaping hole in the top of her right wing. The sight of it filled her with fury, and she dusted them out and softened her stance.
Bouncing on her knees, Vee flapped her wings and surged into the air, twisting and turning as the bhayakara followed her with a hail of gunfire. The demon was of the kind that seemed to like bigger weapons to compensate for his own inherent weaknesses.
He lived on the physical pain of others, but Vee suspected that he’d not tolerate pain well when inflicted upon himself. She banked left in a sharp turn and swooped down behind him, wincing as bullets slammed into concrete behind her, creating large gashes in ceilings and support columns and staircases.
He was far too indiscriminate, clearly blind to the fact that his behavior was likely to bring the building down onto his own head. Idiot.
Vee smiled though. She could use that against him. She sank between the crates, then scurried along the floor, hiding within the shadows. Gunshots echoed overhead, blasting away the corner of the crate in front of her. He’d created a large gap between her current hiding place and the next stack of palleted boxes.
Vee remained still and waited. Sure enough, he continued to riddle the crates ahead of her with bullet-holes. Vee smiled, watching as he drew closer and came into view, first a muscled shoulder and then a bulked-up torso, as he took small steps in a tight circle.
Trigger-happy asshole.
Chapter 2
I can feel your pain.”
His words were slurred, and Vee wasn’t sure if it was the structure of his vocal chords or if he always sounded that drunk.
“Stop wasting your time, woman. You either come willing or die trying to escape.”
Not a chance, buddy.
Vee pulled her chakra away from her back where she’d been holding it to hide its glow from the demon. She didn’t care if he saw it now. It would be too late for him anyway.
She raised the chakra and sent it spinning toward him. The weapon made an odd sound, a sort of low thrum that reminded Vee of a helicopter’s blades as they rotated before takeoff.
The sort of sound that made a person want to duck.
Not our fearless demon, though.
He turned in the direction of the oncoming chakra, a frown twisting his chunky black eyebrows together. His lips lifted and his wide mouth glittered with dagger-sharp teeth.
The deathly fine edge of the curved blade barely skimmed the top of the demon’s head as he crouched to avoid the beheading. Then he got to his feet, grinning as he turned to face Vee, his lips turning up in a self-satisfied smirk.
“Thought you were smart, huh, little human?” he rasped, his nose ring glittering in the light. A demon with body-piercings.
How original.
Vee leaned against the concrete column beside her and smiled pleasantly at him. Her wings still throbbed but she revealed none of her discomfort to her quarry.
He frowned, probably annoyed with her lack of response. “What? Nothing to say when you fail?”
Vee shrugged. “Nothing to say because I didn’t fail.”
He lifted a brow. “You must be confused, little human.”
“Nope. Not confused at all.”
Vee kept smiling as the chakra returned on its journey back to her, even as it closed in on the grinning demon.
He frowned as the low humming of the spinning weapon drew closer, the almost hollow sound echoing around the warehouse. He began to pivot, and the movement—along with his turning neck—only made it easier for the blade of the chakra to do its work.
The weapon sliced through muscle, sinew, and bone with such ease that for a moment Vee felt bad. Until the demon’s human glamor flickered and dissolved, revealing his true form.
Vee’s attention was drawn to the demon as his body shuddered from the impact. She watched as his skin pulsed as though something lived beneath it, the pustules covering his body glistening as if about to burst. His eyes bulged as the blade made its way through his spine and severed his head from his body.
She raised her hand and caught the gleaming weapon in her fingers, grimacing at the feel of the metal slick with demon blood. But her attention was only partially on the gore covering her palms. Vee found that she was tempted to look away as the head began to tilt and fall from the bhayakara’s neck. But she forced herself to watch. She was the executioner, and she had to hold herself accountable. It would be so easy to turn into a vigilante, seeking vengeance and wreaking havoc.
She refused to be that, whether it meant she would turn into a tool wielded by the gods, or if it meant she’d be a crazy paranoid creature on a path to vengeance.
So she made herself watch as the head turned over and over, the demon’s lifeless eyes staring at her as if he were still living, intent on getting his own brand of revenge.
His head hit the concrete floor with a hollow thunk and Vee winced, half expecting the skull to crack, for it to burst like an egg smashing into the ground. Instead, it merely rolled along the floor and came to a stop against a concrete support pole.
Vee shifted her attention back to the body which still stood in the same position, as if he were a little stunned and confused as to what had happened. Then he lurched forward, his knees giving way as he fell. He hit the ground and would have landed face-first had he still been in possession of his head.
As it was, the impact with the ground sent a gush of blood out of the gory opening at the bhayakara’s neck. Vee sidestepped just in time, avoiding the splash of blue-black blood.
Weapon in hand, she decided it was time to get gone. She didn’t want to be around for the next stage of this particular demon’s death-song. Unfortunately, even as she hurried away across the floor of the warehouse, the smell of sulfur and ammonia still managed to follow her.
She held her breath and strode off, eyes ahead, searching the rafters, scanning the aisles of stacked boxes as she weaved between the supporting pillars. Vee rounded another pillar, and paused, glad she could no longer smell the demon.
And she never saw him coming.
When Vee thought about it later, she had to admit that she’d had no reason to believe anyone else was in the shipping warehouse other than herself and the bhayakara.
The arrogant demon had been careless. Now he was dead.
And, it seemed likely that if Vee did
n’t get to her senses fast enough, she’d be just as dead.
Something large, musclebound, and strangely cold hit her broadside and sent her flying into the concrete support pillar that she’d just passed. She slammed hard into it, feeling the bones in her spine crack loudly, feeling the staff of the trishula cut into her ribs, feeling the surge of pain as her injured wing was jarred behind her.
The pillar stopped Vee’s escape, allowing her no clear way out.
She slid to the ground, blinking hard to get a good view of her attacker. She’d already been able to ascertain a few things: tall, swarthy, cold-blooded. A man and yet not anything like a man.
Vee lifted her gaze and met the cold silver eyes of a pey demon.
Fudge.
Vee swallowed and backed up, sliding a little to the left of the concrete pillar. Her eyes were wide as she stared into the creature’s cold gaze. She was so very dead. Pey demons were nothing to joke about. Meeting one face-to-face rarely resulted in anything but death.
And her hellhound-slash-warrior-slash-bodyguard was nowhere to be found. Vee so needed a fairy godmother right now.
Vee gritted her teeth. It had been her own choice to head inside the warehouse after the demon without backup. Speaking of backup, shouldn’t they have arrived by now?