God Wars Box Set Edition: A Dark Fantasy Trilogy

by Mark Eller

  Phrandex pointed at the meat piled on the stump. “You’ll eat well until the last of Told is gone, Afterward,” he shrugged. “You’re on your own.”

  “They was all good kids,” Yolanda said wistfully. “I didn’t want to eat them.” She gently patted Phrandex’s broken shoulder. “Husband, are you hurt?”

  “You have to stay with me,” Hallie insisted to Phrandex. “I need you.”

  “I’m going to Grace,” Phrandex said. “Do any of you know how to get there?”

  “I do,” Yolanda said.”Grace is six beats south of the moon.”

  Smiling, Phrandex took her hand in his, feeling pleased. So far, traveling the human world had been very confusing. Too many straight lines and not enough walls. In other words, he kept getting lost. He needed a guide, and this gave him an acceptable reason to drag her along.

  Giving Yolanda’s hand a slight squeeze, barely hard enough to bruise, he captured her gaze and somehow felt guilty when she flinched away. “You’re coming with me as my very own guide.”

  “But I can’t leave my kids,” Yolanda whispered. “She won’t let me.”

  “Yes she will,” he said, “because I’ll kill her if she doesn’t.”

  Hallie began sobbing. “You can’t take my mommy! I need her!” She reached out an imploring hand. “She’s mine. You killed my daddy. Why do you want to take my mommy away from me, too?”

  “Because I need a guide,” Phrandex replied, looking at the mind-raped woman, “and because I’ve finally learned the meaning of pity.”

  Flames roared and the cabin walls fell in. With his clothing burned away, a laughing Trent walked out of the fire. Two newly formed hands decorated the ends of his wrists.

  “Fun,” he chortled. “Let’s do it again. Let’s do it again.”

  “Will you hurt me?” Yolanda asked hopefully.

  Phrandex nodded. “I have to hurt you. It’s the only thing left you can understand.”

  Yolanda touched Phrandex’s undamaged cheek with tentative fingers. “I didn’t know devils could cry.”

  “Neither did I,” Phrandex answered, wiping a wrist at his traitorous eyes. “Let’s go find Grace.”

  Chapter 10-- Changes

  “We’ve got to move the brat to the castle. Last night was too close.” Morbid warned.

  Sulya paced the floor of the dust ridden warehouse room. The similian wasn’t yet ready to move the child. Her plan was to keep Missa sequestered in the warehouse at Wharf’s end until Helace and Belsac razed all of the other deity’s temples…but it seemed she was left with no other choice. The assassin was still hot on her heels; Sulya was sure Tessla was the reason behind the success for the search for Missa.

  “We can’t move her. Not until the queen’s delivered her baby. We can’t afford the overly righteous bitch finding out about the child.” Sulya felt herself change colors involuntarily. Glancing down, she saw her hands were now a strange pea soup green, a sure sign of her agitation. Only extreme angst made her skin change without consent.

  Sulya gritted her teeth. Extreme angst? Extreme anger came closer. Mercktos and his reputedly strange behavior worried her to the point of distraction. Unfortunately, every time she had asked Zorce to get rid of him during these last few weeks the god seemed unconcerned. Zorce claimed Mercktos was her problem, not his.

  “What are you saying General?” he had asked, his voice dangerously gentle. “Are you saying you can’t handle a fallen devil? Maybe I should reconsider your position. As my general, you’ll be responsible for thousands of my hellkind. How can I trust you if you fall apart because of trouble from just one. ”

  Sulya almost blushed at the memory. Zorce had looked at her with such loathing and scorn she quickly dropped the subject. Being raped, beaten or devoured by an irate god was just not at the top of her ‘to do’ list.

  “We ran into Tessla and a couple warrior priests last night, and they nearly took another of our number,” Morbid informed her. “I don’t know how they’re doing it, but they seem to have an uncanny ability for finding us. Tessla’s doing, I suppose, but I’d be surprised if the brat’s mother isn’t god touched as well. The only safe place I can imagine is the castle. We’ve enough wards set about the place, and the king’s authority will keep the interfering bastards away.”

  Sulya grimaced. Morbid was obviously in a foul mood if he was repeating information he had already given her. In part, she couldn’t blame him for being upset. Not after he had lost an arm during the previous night’s encounter, a painful but not unusual occurrence among hellkind. However, the arm had taken more than sixteen hours to re-grow. It shouldn’t have taken nearly so long. Even weaker demons or even sprites could grow a new limb in five or six hours. Morbid should have managed the deed in two.

  “I told you we can’t take her into the castle. We’ll just have to start moving her randomly around. We’ll go to places they’ve already searched.” Looking to the room’s corner, Sulya glared at the child. She hated the little beast, wanted to end the brat’s life herself. The pleasure of seeing the look of horror in the child’s eyes as the goddess within realized she’d lost this game was a privilege Sulya deserved after all the sanctimonious shit she’d spouted during her time with Anothosia’s knights. Unfortunately, since the arrival of this pint sized pain in her ass, nothing had gone right. Even Ruin had been lost to her, something Sulya thought would never happen.

  “I know of an abandoned squatter’s house,” a new voice interrupted. “I’ll take her there.”

  Mercktos’s voice raked over Sulya’s already raw nerves, making them feel bloody and raw. Nothing had alerted her to the devil’s entrance; a testament to her lack of concentration.

  A frustrated shriek threatened to tear loose as her skin changed to a dark fuchsia. Mercktos was trying to ruin her with Zorce, trying to make things even more impossible than they already were. Did he honestly think she would allow him to walk off with the brat just because she had been out of touch? There was no way she’d let the devil take Missa anywhere alone.

  “Morbid is in charge of the girl. You go look for Tessla.” she ordered.

  Mercktos’ eyes became black, elongated slits as his body shifted from a handsome noble into one of the most feared devils in Hell. Large black leathery wings unfurled with a wet sucking noise. Muscles bulged, stretched; fangs split his gums in razor sharp rows. Black talons pierced his skin on both his hands and feet, slowly growing until they were longer than a huntsman’s dagger. He snarled.

  Sulya tensed when his power washed the room in prickly heat. Staring at his hideous, black scaled body had made many a lesser soul surrender their will to him, fear of his wrath immobilizing their senses.

  Not her. For more than two hundred years she had served in Hell, slowly climbing over bloodied bodies to reach her present position. He might be stronger than her. He might more powerful in nano control, but by the gods, nobody was more dangerous than Sulya Ibarra. After what she had seen and endured, only the hell gods could intimidate her now. Mercktos might have bested her before, but he wasn’t the devil he had been then. Somehow, Missa had stolen part of him away.

  Sulya readied herself for his attack, almost grinning with anticipation.

  Mercktos’s snarl quieted to a low growl. He flexed his wings and then took a deep, steadying breath. The essence of his power quelled, shrank in upon itself. Sulya was almost impressed. He presently showed more control than she’d seen him display since the child sang to him…over a week now? A month? More? Time seemed to have warped since they raided Calto’s mansion and took the child. Of late, Sulya often found herself losing track of the days.

  Carefully watching Mercktos, she fought back a frown. This had to end. Either she would kill the child, kill Mercktos, or kill herself. Since she preferred living, she would have to start with Mercktos.

  “I saw Tessla,” Mercktos said, his power once more fully contained. “The assassin’s hunting— for you.” His lips stretched into a slow feral grin.
r />   “Where did you see her?”

  The devil’s smile broadened so wide it should have split his face in two. “Outside. Not far from the front door.”

  A chill crawled across her skin, and her chest tightened. “She’s here? Now?” Panic pounded through her body, and her mind twisted and turned, trying to form plans, trying to scheme a way out of this confrontation. She wasn’t ready. Her trap had yet to be laid for Trelsar’s Assassin.

  Mercktos’s laughter started as a deep rumble inside his chest, then burst free as a loud guffaw. Once again, his wings spread wide, but this time they were fully controlled.

  Fury ripped through Sulya’s body, chasing her fears into a dark corner. Screeching, she spun around and grabbed her sword, calling out orders as she did so. In answer, demons scampered down the steps and shrieks echoed in the ramshackle building.

  The similian turned again to Mercktos. “What the hell are you playing at? Did you lead the bitch here?”

  Mercktos’s asinine grin disappeared. The devil clacked his jaws menacingly. “Are you accusing me of being a traitor?” Hissing, he took a step closer.

  Feeling grim, Sulya raised her sword in front of her. No more games. She would not back down. Not now. Zorce had granted her extra protections since she and Mercktos last battled. She was stronger now, and he seemed to have lost at least a part of his nano control.

  “If I hadn’t come here when I did,” Mercktos continued, “you’d not have a clue she was nearby. By the way, she killed another of your pets.”

  Sweeping around her as if she was not even there, Mercktos glided to the corner and grabbed the child before she could intercede. “I suggest you run. You’re not ready for a fight with Tessla. She’ll kill you quicker than you can change colors.”

  Turning his back on her, Mercktos crashed through the window’s closed shutters before she could stop him.

  Below her, a pitched battle raged.

  Fury and fear and confusion pulled at Sulya’s innards. Mercktos was almost correct. She wasn’t frightened of Tessla, but this was not the proper time to kill the unnatural woman. No, the proper time was in the future, after the bitch removed a few of Sulya’s rivals. For now, Sulya had no option remaining but to run.

  There was always tomorrow. She could work on exterminating a few of the rats chewing on her ass tomorrow.

  Sulya stepped to the gaping hole left by Mercktos and looked into the black waters of the bay two stories below. She dropped her sword into the pile of rubble Mercktos had left in his wake and then stepped off into the icy darkness.

  Yes, people could always die tomorrow. She would make sure of it.

  * * * *

  Mercktos leapt from the window into the crisp night air, his bundle tucked securely against his chest. Feeling Missa shiver, he hugged her closer and started emitting heat so the child wouldn’t become damaged before Zorce saw to her murder. Inexplicably, the child cuddled close to him and closed her eyes. It almost seemed as if she felt safe and secure to be with him instead of Sulya.

  Sulya…

  The thought of the similian brought instant rage. If he were lucky, she and Tessla would battle. If they did, Tessla would quickly finish Sulya off. Probably wouldn’t happen. Sulya had too fine an appreciation for her own safety, but he could hope because Tessla owed him. His luck had gone from bad to worse since her escape from Hell. It wasn't his fault Athos had blundered the entire affair— the fool— but Mercktos was the one who had to pay. Since then, Zorce seemed to always find some pretext to blame his Dark Knight for any part of the plan that went wrong. Because of this, Mercktos did everything in his power to ensure very little ever went wrong, but even he couldn’t stop Athos’s blundering errors.

  To Zorce, it didn’t matter. The hell god’s only blind spot seemed to be Athos, Zorce’s son and Mercktos’s eternal pain in the ass. Despite the loathing each held for the other, Zorce refused to believe any child of his could have risen so high and still be a fool.

  In Mercktos’s opinion, Zorce was behaving the fool by not murdering his son. With luck, he would one day prove Athos’s treasonous nature to Zorce, but so far luck had eluded him. After nearly a century of trying and failing to place spies in Athos’s posse, Mercktos had learned nothing that would break Zorce’s ties to his highest ranked child.

  His thoughts wandering, Mercktos shifted his wings, dipped lower, and almost clipped a chimney. A mighty thrust of his wings took him higher, out of the reach of any of the buildings. Feeling safer, he glided slow and leisurely above the tenement housing erected by the king. He sniffed the air, smelling human waste, bilge water, fish…and Tessla.

  God’s be damned! Mercktos growled. How had the escaped spawn managed to follow him? What connection did she have that drew them together? Not knowing infuriated him. No one should be able to track him while in flight. No one.

  Talons clicking on the slate warehouse roof, Mercktos landed without caring who heard. With more care than he ought to have shown, he placed his sleeping ward upon the soot covered slate. Missa opened her eyes, pouted. Careful not to scratch her with his talons, the devil gently stroked her hair. “Be good. I will be back.”

  Nodding, Missa returned to sleep, apparently never doubting he would keep her safe. Something in his brain seemed to snap at this thought. The something wanted to tear his thought to pieces and scream with frustrated rage. Mercktos found he couldn’t argue with the something. This situation wasn’t right. His thoughts and feeling weren’t right. He should take the child to Zorce immediately, be done with her, and to hell with Zorce’s and Sulya’s greater plans. Instead, Mercktos took to the air, searching for the one-time spawn. No one would take his prize. Missa belonged to him.

  The chill night air soon brought her scent too him, heady and distinct. Drifting down into the darkness, he landed silently and waited. Within moments, the sound of Tessla’s feet pounding against the mud packed road echoed, cold and relentless. Approaching, she slowed. Stopped.

  In a blur of movement, Mercktos lunged; giving the assassin no time to pinpoint him. He landed hard upon her, crushing her with his weight. Tessla grunted, but no cry of pain escaped her. A broken bone…a slice upon her thigh…he knew simple injuries were nothing compared to what she had endured after he had handed her to Athos.

  The memory of turning Tessla over to Athos brought a chest spasm so sharp and so deep it drew an unintentional snarl from between his nearly lipless mouth. A feeling of...of...something he had forgotten, stabbed into the fucking pretend heart Zorce shoved into his chest after Tessla escaped.

  Gods damn it all. Now was not the time for distraction. Inhaling a shaky breath, he pushed the pain aside as Tessla lay beneath him.

  “Well, this is a familiar position for us, eh?” Mercktos’s brought his face close to hers and licked her neck with a long forked tongue.

  As expected, Tessla did not cringe.

  “Give me the child Mercktos, and I won’t kill you— this time.”

  Her attitude both infuriated and confused him. The spawn acted as if there was nothing she should fear, nothing warranting even concern. Mercktos felt his ire rise to new levels at her cavalier dismissal of his power. His anger sought to rise higher, and higher yet. With a bitter curse, Mercktos fought it down, settled it, tamed it. Here, now, with Tessla lying beneath him, true anger was the last thing he wanted to feel because she bore Athos’ss poison in her veins. Tessla’s spawn body was a nearly perfect home for its foul corruption, but his body would make an even better one because he had belonged to Zorce before Zorchester had even dreamed of becoming a god. Given an opportunity, the poison would readily free itself from Tessla and enter him if he eased its path though anger and hate.

  Mercktos had lived through many bouts of excruciating pain, but he was not Tessla. There were some things even he would not willingly endure.

  His anger controlled, Mercktos gave her his worst smile and clacked his jaws threateningly. “Kill me? It seems you‘re in a rather awkward position to
be making such idle threats. I’m not a minor demon nor am I some blue skinned whore.”

  Mercktos brought his hand to her heart and rested the tips of his talons carefully on her delicate skin. The razor sharp points pressed harder and harder into her flesh until each tip broke through and drew blood. The spawn winced and Mercktos stopped, curious at her show of pain. When had such little punctures started to bother Trelsar’s Assassin?

  Tessla smiled, slow, seductive, and did not resist. She pressed her body closer, driving his talons deeper, now seeming to enjoy the hurt.

  The devil’s cock stirred and his eyes became half lidded. Memories of nights spent in endless passion, endless pain, skittered through his brain, made him want to take her there, in the street’s filth and dirt.

  While his mind wandered for the second time that night, Tessla worked one of her legs free and slid it up his side, wrapping it around his waist. She pulled his body in snug against her own.

  Mercktos withdrew his talons. His tongue flicked out, lapped at the warm blood upon her chest, and he groaned.

  “You would kill me so soon?” Tessla asked. Her voice was a seductive whisper, sliding over his body like fresh blood.

  The assassin’s throat begged him to taste it, to bury his face in her soft skin. Slowly, Mercktos bent his head into the nape of her neck and began to shift. Talons and wings retracted, his eyes changed to a soft blue. Yellowed teeth disappeared and become human again. Foul breath grew sweet. Once more, Mercktos was a tall sinewy man; hard, lean, and erect.

  Careful not to draw more blood or cause her further pain, Mercktos bit her neck, sucked lightly on her skin and then kissed along her jaw to her mouth. He ground against her sex in frustration. Her clothes needed to come off. Without relieving the pressure off his prey, one hand slipped beneath her hip while his other hand worked at her clothing.