Damian's Immortal (War of Gods 3)

By Lizzy Ford

http://www.guerrillawordfare.com/

Edited by Christine LePorte

http://www.christineleporte.com/

Cover art and design by Dafeenah

http://www.indiedesignz.com/

* * * * *

Includes exclusive excerpt from

Coexist: Keegan’s Chronicles

by

Julia Crane

www.juliacraneauthor.com/

* * * * *

Acknowledgments:

Thank you, Lourdes Caamaño, for choosing the
name of Jule’s mate: Yully Hughes.

Take care in Afghanistan!

My heartfelt appreciation to:

Martha Schlegel

Gabby Warner

Shauna Rush

Sheila Johnson

Kelly Rubidoux

Carol Milne

Angela

Katie Bleil

Margarita Devora
Lourdes Caamaño

For your generous support of the
Damian’s
Immortal
project.

You all made
Damian’s Immortal
possible, and I (and my thousands of readers!) thank you!

* * * * *

Damian’s Immortal
copyright December
2011 by Lizzy Ford

Smashwords Edition

Cover art and design copyright 2011 by
Dafeenah

Coexist
excerpt copyright June 2011 by
Julia Crane, used with permission

* * * * *

You can follow the GW team and Julia on
Twitter:

@LizzyFord2010

@cleporte

@dafeenajameel

@JuliaCrane2

Twitter hashtags:

#guerrillawriter, #fantasy, #romance,
#paranormalromance, #eclective, #smashwords, #ebooks

Chapter One

Jule lifted his head to the night sky and
closed his eyes. Fat raindrops soaked his clothing and left him
chilled. He’d hitchhiked between towns and walked cross-country,
admiring the Irish landscape as he went and cursing the cold,
incessant rain of late autumn. Finally, he’d reached the top of a
hill overlooking a small, familiar village that glowed with
warmth.

The walk calmed his irritation at being
powerless for the first time since the Schism. It had been two days
since he felt the ripple of power that marked the making of a new
Black God. He’d last felt that surge a few hundred thousand years
ago, when Czerno had slain his predecessor and claimed the Black
God’s mantle. While he recalled little else of his time before the
Schism, Jule couldn’t help the nagging feeling he was missing
something important about the transition between an old and new
god.

He looked over his shoulder again at the
dark landscape behind him. The hair on the back of his neck had
been standing for the past mile he’d walked, only he wasn’t
entirely certain why. The wave of magic had short-circuited his
Guardian powers and dropped him on the other side of Ireland. His
phone was fried, and his only recourse was to reach the local
Guardians. Instead of helping his brother the White God navigate
the transition, he walked the hills of Ireland alone, unable to
remember why he’d decided to put only one station of Guardians in
Ireland.

“
Probably because you
never thought you’d have to cross Ireland on foot.” The voice he’d
dreaded hearing finally spoke. Jule drew a deep breath and faced
the small, grandfatherly man with eyes the color of an Irish
meadow. The rain didn’t touch the Watcher, and Jule crossed his
arms.

“
Didn’t think you were
talking to me,” he said.

“
Not by my
choice.”

“
You mind if I get out of
the rain before we do this?”

“
Rain doesn’t bother
a
real
immortal,”
the Watcher said with a trace of triumph in his voice.

The oldest beings in the universe, the
Watchers were supposed to observe and were forbidden from
interfering in human affairs. At least, they had been until about a
year ago, when the White God found the first Oracle since the
Schism. Jule understood the importance of her appearance, just as
he knew all bets were off once she was revealed. What he remembered
of the Watchers came from the Schism, when they’d openly hunted and
killed Naturals-- humans with extraordinary gifts-- that they felt
were threats to them.

“
The only thing bothering
me is you. Say your piece and get out of here,” Jule
replied.

“
You were expecting
me.”

“
Why should that surprise
you? I’ve been expecting you for years. The opportunistic bastards
that you all are, you’d take advantage of a time like
this.”

The Watcher clenched his teeth, green eyes
flaring with light and spinning before he regained his temper. Jule
was happy to piss off the little green-eyed troll. The Watchers
thought him lesser, because he’d chosen the mortal world over the
immortal one.

“
Chosen
is the wrong word,” the Watcher said. “You were
banished.”

“
Happily banished.” Jule
baited the immortal creature. “You won’t jerk me around like you
did Damian.”

“
Is that a
challenge?”

“
It’s a dare, my little
friend.”

The Watcher paused again to rein in his
composure and then spoke in a reluctant tone. “The Grey God has
torn the fabric between the mortal and immortal realms. We
discovered there is a creature here that can steal the Guardians’
power and use it to rupture the breach. It’s left the Black God in
an advantageous position, since all but the White and Grey Gods are
powerless.”

“
What do I need to do to
right this?” Jule asked.

“
We’re stitching this tear
back together from the immortal realm. We can’t fix it from the
mortal realm. We don’t know who can, but we know who can destroy
our efforts.”

“
Someone here in Ireland,”
Jule guessed. “Or you would’ve let me go home.”

“
I’d rather someone else
take this on, but you’re my only option,” the Watcher said in plain
distaste. “Yes, I kept you from returning with Damian to North
America. The creature that can prevent us from healing the rupture
is near here. She’s called the Magician. We’re not sure what this
Magician is, but her powers are … unique and dangerous. She feeds
off the powers of Guardians, so we stripped the Guardians of
power.”

“
Leaving them and the
humans vulnerable to the Black God. Great plan,
Watcher.”

“
We didn’t take this
decision lightly! If her powers grow enough, she’ll not only
prevent us from stitching up the tear between realms, but she’ll
open the doorway between the two worlds. You know well enough what
the Others will do in the human realm,” the Watcher
said.

“
Make the Black God look
like Santa Claus,” Jule said with a frown. “So you sapped us to
keep her from absorbing our power. What’s this have to do with
me?”

“
I’m glad you ask,” the
Watcher said, his gaze darkening. “I want you to find her and kill
her.”

“
That’s it?”

“
That’s it.”

“
Give me back my powers,
so I can find her,” Jule said.

“
I’m going to give a
select group of Guardians back their power, but you’re not among
them.”

“
You want me to find a
creature with untold powers with my human self? You really think
I’ll succeed?”

“
You better. She’s hiding
from us somewhere nearby. We tracked her here and could get no
farther. We need her found and distracted until we can enact a
better plan,” the Watcher said. “If she kills you, nothing is lost.
If you kill her, you save us the trouble of Plan B.”

“
And if I
refuse?”

“
I’ll have you
killed.”

Jule laughed loudly. “You really think
that’ll work on me?”

“
What mortal doesn’t fear
death?” the Watcher asked, his brow furrowing.

“
This one,” Jule said with
a broad smile. “If I succeed, I want my powers back. On the spot.
You see, Watcher, I’m not stupid enough to think you really want me
to fail. You wouldn’t ask someone you hated unless you were
desperate. Or, unless I’m the only person who can do
it.”

The Watcher’s eyes flashed. Jule studied
him, guessing his words to be correct by the anger on the Watcher’s
face.

“
Fine.” The Watcher all
but spat the words. “If you succeed, you-- and everyone else-- will
have their powers returned.” He appeared to sulk for a moment then
grew thoughtful. “Of course, there’s always another
option.”

“
And that would
be?”

“
Returning to the immortal
realm with me and regaining your powers.”

Jule frowned. He wasn’t sure how returning
to the immortal realm would make a difference. A Watcher was
stronger than any Guardian in the mortal realm, except for Damian,
and more powerful than any immortal in the immortal realm, except
for an Original Being. Whatever this Watcher was planning, it
wasn’t good.

“
No, thanks,” Jule said.
He turned and started walking down the hill.

“
You don’t remember the
immortal-- ”

“
Nope. We’re
done.”

The Watcher lingered for a moment. Jule felt
the creature’s presence disappear and dwelled on the odd
arrangement. The Watcher had been up front with him about the
mission, which meant there was much more than the immortal creature
was saying. The little bastards never spoke the absolute truth.

The rain fell harder, and Jule broke into a
trot. He hadn’t visited the Guardians’ Irish station in years,
mainly because Ireland had no regular vamp population. He continued
at his quick pace into the town, glancing over the quaint downtown
strip lined with small cars and pubs. He slowed as he reached an
intersection and made his way through the town to the outskirts,
where small houses lined the street.

He walked until he recognized the Guardians’
station, a single story house nestled between two similar houses
and marked by a star and an arrow – the White God’s symbols – in
the corner of one window. He felt no wards protecting the station
and shivered, wondering how many Guardians would be lost between
now and when he could find and kill the Magician. Without their
powers, the Guardians were vulnerable against the Black God’s
vamps.

The door opened before he knocked, and the
Guardian within looked him over. Jule couldn’t help but feel some
relief at the sight of a warm, well-lit interior.

“
We’ve been waiting for
you,” the blond-haired Guardian said in a light Irish lilt. “You
look like shit.”

“
Feel like shit,” Jule
said and entered. “Damian call?”

“
Yes,
ikir
called earlier and said you’d
be in today. Sean got you some clothes before he went to the pub
for his shift.”

“
Why is a Guardian working
at the pub?” Jule asked.

“
We’re bored,” the
Guardian said with a shrug. “Sean’s from here, and we got nothin’
to kill.”

“
All righty,” Jule said.
“I take it you know by now you’ve got no Guardian
powers?”

“
It’s bad, Jule,” the
Guardian said, pursing his lips. “
Ikir
ordered a no-engagement
protocol. We’re supposed to lay low and avoid vamps. He said
there’s a new Black God.
Ikir
thinks the new Black God is reorganizing. But
once they start attacking …”

“
We fight, like always.
Just have worse odds,” Jule said, trying not to let his own alarm
show. As the leader of the Eastern Hemisphere, he wasn’t about to
let his Guardians know he was worried.

“
Aye,” the Guardian said.
“I have a new phone for you, too.” He closed the front door and
went into another room.

Jule looked around the cozy house. He needed
to contact Damian, the White God, above all, and share what the
Watcher had told him. Damian might have some insight into what was
going on, and who the Magician was.

He trotted up the stairs to the second floor
of the house and walked into the bathroom, eager for his first hot
shower in days.

* * *

Yully Hughes stayed in her room, where her
father told her to, not wanting to upset him. His erratic moods had
grown more volatile the past couple of days, and she knew better
than to draw his attention. She still bore the bruises from
upsetting him two days ago.