Pain (Curse of the Gods Book 5)
Page 1
Pain
Jaymin Eve
Jane Washington
Contents
Glossary
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
Epilogue
Also By Jane Washington
Also By Jaymin Eve
Connect With Jane Washington
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Copyright 2018 © Jane Washington and Jaymin Eve.
All rights reserved.
The authors have provided this ebook for your personal use only. It may not be re-sold or made publicly available in any way. Copyright infringement is against the law. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.
Washington, Jane
Eve, Jaymin
Pain
www.janewashington.com
www.jaymineve.com
Edited by Hot Tree Editing
www.hottreeediting.com
For Jane: Are we friends yet?
Also for Jaymin: No. I will fight you to the death.
Glossary
click – minute
rotation – hour
sun-cycle – day
moon-cycle – month
life-cycle – year
minateur – soldier
bullsen – domesticated work-beast
sol – dominant race
dweller – serving race
minatsol – world of the dwellers and sols
topia – world of the gods
blesswood – the center of Minatsol
dvadel – the first ring
soldel – the second ring
tridel – the third ring
swimmer – fish
pantera – winged horse
mudhog – pig
sleeper – spider
One
“It’s ready.” Coen’s breath brushed over the back of my neck, startling me up from my crouched position behind one of Pica’s meticulously maintained hedges.
“What?” I squeaked, quickly taking a seat and folding my legs as I fanned my robe out casually around me. “What’s ready?”
“Our house,” he replied, a brief smile hooking his mouth. “Are you seriously going to pretend you weren’t just spying on Dweller-Emmy and Neutral?”
Damn straight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, One.”
He crouched down before me, one of his hands against the ground to my left, the other landing on my thigh as his eyes levelled with mine. The bright green of his irises seemed to morph into an emerald shade with the reflection of so many colourful plants around us.
“What were they doing?” he asked casually, his face giving away none of the emotion that I was sure he was feeling: namely amusement at my expense.
“Fighting.” I gave up trying to hide the fact that I had, indeed, been spying on my sister. Again. She and Cyrus fascinated me. “He’s been trying to ‘teach’ her how to be a goddess. I think she gets a little more wild with every single attempt he makes to tame her.”
Coen chuckled, his lips pressing against mine suddenly. He pulled back too quickly, his eyes darkening as he gave me a narrow look.
“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” he said darkly, squeezing my leg before switching his other hand to my other thigh and pulling me up easily from the ground.
I quickly wound my arms around his neck to keep from falling backwards. We both turned to look over the hedge as he straightened to his full height. Emmy and Cyrus were only partially shielded by one of Pica’s gardens, their voices inaudible as they spoke lowly to each other. Coen shifted me closer, encouraging my legs to lock around his waist as he switched one of his arms below my butt to support me, the other wrapping around my back. I relaxed my hold, melting into him and laying my head against his as we watched.
Emmy had just shoved Cyrus, who threw his hands into the air before grabbing her face and kissing her. After half a click, she shoved him again, shaking her head. When they turned away from each other, they were both smiling, though they were careful not to let the other see.
I snorted and Coen took that as his cue to drag me away from the scene. I didn’t bother telling him that I could walk just fine on my own—he already knew that. He just wanted to carry me, and I wasn’t going to complain at being able to feel the warmth of his muscled body all along the front of mine. I covertly brushed my hands along his massive shoulders, a tiny sound of appreciation leaving my throat. He was a perfect specimen. All of them were. They each seemed to have been made from the same flawless mould. Specimens One-through-Five, but that was where the similarities ended.
The Trickery Abil had used to give himself and Adeline their perfect children hadn’t been able to form their personalities or gifts, only the genetic transference of their features, builds, and general colouring. That made sense, since the Abcurses had been gifted to Adeline by Staviti and Staviti had already proven himself to be incapable of controlling the nature of his creations. Pica was a perfect example with her propensity to love everything but her complete inability to love Staviti in the way that he had designed her for. Each of my guys was far too rebellious for Staviti to have had a hand in their nature.
Coen slowed, coming to a stop at the beginning of a forest. I blinked, twisting around to check that I was seeing things properly … but yes, an entire forest had appeared overnight on Pica’s platform.
“Holy bullsen balls,” I croaked out. “This wasn’t here a sun-cycle ago.”
“Crazy-pants has been working on it for the past five rotations,” Coen admitted with a chuckle. “Why am I not surprised that you didn’t even notice?”
We had started calling Pica Crazy-pants—along with several other unflattering nicknames—after my first few sun-cycles on her platform. We had been completely unable to take her seriously as a goddess, or as a person. She could switch from ecstatic to teary and back to ecstatic faster than I could blink, and her complete love and acceptance for everything bordered on psychopathic. She loved so hard she made herself miserable with it. I had found her crying outside my bedroom door in the middle of the night simply because she missed me. More than once. I was beginning to think that she would never allow me to move to another part of her platform, but I was obviously wrong.
“She actually put a forest between us?” I asked, nonplussed.
“We convinced her that you two needed a garden to work on together. A big one. A natural one.”
“So how did she manage to … you know … bring a forest up here?”
He set me down gently, almost unwillingly, his eyes flicking over to the trees before us. I caught a flash of colour out of the corner of my eye, but Coen’s hand on my chin forced my attention back to him. He had to bend down, and I had to lean up, but I didn’t complain because of the way his gaze kept switching distractedly to my lips.
I loved his expression when he couldn’t think straight because he wanted to kiss me.
“She enlisted the help of Haven. He is the God of Nature—you’ll meet him at your party the next sun-cycle. A word of caution, Will. Terrance was here, helping.”
“And Terrance is—”
“The God of Bestiary. Also, a man who doesn’t just help without a reason.”
r /> I frowned, wanting to peer back at the forest. I was prevented by Coen’s strong grip. His lips pressed to mine again, and I was just starting to deepen the kiss when a voice spoke behind me.
“We’re going to be late for the surprise, Pain.”
Coen made a frustrated sound, and a tiny fissure of discomfort trickled over my skin. I was used to the little zaps of his power, now. I had perhaps grown a little too used to them, because it only caused my body to heat and my hands to clench in preparation. Coen gave me another of his half smiles before straightening away, allowing me to turn to Rome, who had stepped out of the trees.
“What’s the surprise, Two?” I asked.
“A better damn ranking system, I hope,” he grumbled back, stopping in front of me.
Coen had moved around him and was already disappearing down the path through the trees. I took the opportunity to examine the forest a little more carefully, admiring the rough wooden edging that separated the marble from the wild, containing the dirt, fallen leaves, and twisted roots within a neat wooden box. The path itself seemed to be made of slabs of uneven marble, twisting and winding into the growth, faintly lit by little lanterns dangling from the lower-hanging branches.
“Is it the house?” I pressed, my eyes flicking back to him as his fingers twisted through mine, pulling me toward the path.
“No, you already knew about the house.” He needlessly picked me up and set me onto the marble path, as though it was important for him to carry me over that first step.
I started to grow excited about what might lie in wait for me at the end of the path, but Coen’s words of caution kept bringing me back to practical fears, never allowing my mind to wander far from the trees as I began to move forward, Rome close behind me. We had only walked for a click when his hands landed on my shoulders, his fingers digging in with a commanding pressure, making me arch my spine back a little as he lowered his head down beside mine, both of us facing the path ahead of us.
“How are the goddess classes coming along, Rocks?”
I wasn’t sure why we needed to stop walking to have this conversation, but I wasn’t going to complain about the one-on-one time. I leaned back into him, my hands reaching up to twist around the back of his neck. Instinctively, his mouth dropped to the skin below my ear, his teeth nipping lightly as his hands slipped over my raised arms and down the sides of my chest to settle at my waist. I tried to contain a shiver, but I was sure that my words came out slightly wobbly.
“Adeline and Pica have been teaming up on me but they don’t seem to agree on anything, so I don’t think I’m making that much progress. Pica thinks that I should be open and honest and everyone will love me. Adeline thinks that I need to be anyone but myself.”
He rumbled with laughter. “My mother is right. The other gods will never take you seriously as a viable contender to challenge Staviti. You aren’t cruel, you don’t want power, you have no desire to control or reshape the world, and you accidentally bring people back from the dead … on occasion.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I sniffed.
“I think you’re the best thing that ever lived,” he whispered. “I also think we should hurry before Seduction gets—”
“Impatient?” an amused voice asked from a few feet away.
I startled, allowing Rome to push me around the next bend in the path. Aros was resting against a bench seat that had been crafted with raw branches and thicker, unrefined logs. He stood as I stopped before him, holding his hand out for me. I took it, but Rome captured my other hand, forcing me to turn in his direction. His massive hands shaped to the sides of my face then, his lips swooping down to mine. The Abcurses didn’t do quick kisses: they took my lips with an intention that demanded to be acknowledged, and I acknowledged it now as I let out a small sound of need. He pulled back, pressed another hard kiss to my mouth, and then retreated fully, straightening up to his full height. He disappeared down the path the same way Coen had.
Aros still had a hold of my other hand, and he tugged it now, a smile teasing the corners of his lips.
“Sweetheart,” he greeted.
“Three,” I replied, throwing my arms around his neck and allowing him to draw me in fully. It was interesting that they were following the descending order of the nicknames that I had given them. Maybe they liked them more than they let on.
I basked in his heat, feeling lighter already as his hands smoothed down the curve of my spine, pressing every inch of my body to his before he eased back. He was as unwilling to release me as Coen and Rome had been, but they seemed to have planned this out and were apparently working to a schedule. Aros tucked me beneath his arm, walking close beside me along the narrow path.
“How much longer does this forest go on for?” I asked, wondering if Pica had also extended her platform somehow.
“We’re at the end now,” Aros said, steering me around a bend as the trees began to thin out, a light appearing between the leaves and branches.
I remembered Coen’s warning then, and cast a quick glance over my shoulder. There was a tiny animal on the path behind us. I wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but it had a fluffy tail, a russet-coloured coat, and large, watery brown eyes. Its ears perked up, its tiny nose twitching.
It was watching us very carefully.
I tried to contain my shiver, picking up the pace as I hurried to the marble structure only a few steps away. The dwelling was small, with a few Pica-styled garden boxes surrounding it: they housed tall trees that dripped strings of leaves down to the marble ground; spiked, flame-coloured plants; and huge, fuzzy ferns in deep emerald shades. The marble house itself was shaped almost like a small dweller cottage. Oddly enough, it reminded me of my cottage back in the seventh ring that I’d shared with my absent mother and my mothering sister.
I swallowed, my steps slowing, my eyes running over the odd marble shape.
“Do you like it?” Aros questioned, his voice soft as his eyes searched my face.
“It … Who chose this?” I choked out.
“Donald and Dweller-Emmy. We had something different planned, but they insisted on this. Well, Dweller-Emmy insisted on it. Donald was asked to design a few features.”
“And you let them?” I asked, a little surprised. The Abcurses didn’t generally want external involvement when it came to making decisions about me. They sometimes forgot to even seek my involvement.
“Dweller-Emmy said that she knew you wouldn’t be staying here permanently. She said that we can design the next place, wherever we decide to settle.”
Something warmed in my chest then, and I pulled him toward the door. He stopped me just as I reached for the handle, pulling my arm back and turning to press me back against the door.
“My time ends here,” he said by way of explanation.
Understanding, I wrapped myself around him, fusing my mouth to his before he could give me the kiss that the other two had. I poured my joy and gratefulness into the kiss, and Aros responded by settling his hands at my ribcage and filling me with more. Desire flooded into me, causing me to gasp in momentary dizziness. His tongue pushed against mine, demanding entrance, and I somehow found my leg hooked over his hip as I tried to climb his body. He grunted, breaking the kiss suddenly. I was about to pull him back to me when the thudding at the other side of the door finally registered.
“Stop hogging our woman,” Yael groused through the wooden panelling.
I grinned up at Aros, who looked torn between ignoring Yael and shouting back at him. Eventually, he got himself under control, fixing me with a look that said later before shifting me away from the door and opening it. He strode past Yael without a word.
I watched until his broad shoulders disappeared completely, and when I turned to Yael, it was to find him focussed intently on me.
"I've missed you, Willa-toy," he said softly, extending a hand to me.
I didn't hesitate for a moment, stepping into his body and allowing him to draw me fully agains
t him. “I saw you a few rotations ago.” I laughed. “Have you really had time to miss me?”
Yael didn’t laugh with me. If anything, his expression grew more serious. “Are you ready to see your new home?”
He wasn’t going to deny missing me.
“I’m ready,” I said.
Keeping a hold of my hand, he led me into the surprisingly well-lit home. The marble was coloured in shades of green, purple, gold, stormy grey, and blue. Somehow, those five colours were interwoven through the natural pattern of the marble. “Your colours,” I breathed, hurrying toward the nearest wall so I could run my hands along it. “I told Pica she could go with her pink theme, but this … this is exactly what I wanted.”
Yael swung me around suddenly, and my heart fluttered at the pressure he applied to my body with his strong grip. It was just short of painful, and it reminded me that Yael liked to dominate. Holy gods, did he ever.
“As soon as we know your god colour, we’ll weave it through as well,” he murmured, his breath brushing across my cheek as he leaned down to me. “The six of us, we are as permanent as this marble. It will never fade. Never deteriorate. Forever.”
“Unless I accidentally burn it down,” I amended. “Or Pica loves it to death.”
He chuckled, and I finally pulled my eyes from the walls. I still hadn’t seen anything else in my new home.
I tilted my head up to Yael. “Why do you think Emmy’s robes formed around her, and robes appeared for her to wear, but I got nothing? Robes didn’t form for me when I died. Clothing didn’t appear in my closet … not that I have a closet. Why don’t I have a colour?”