Marked by Death (The Godhunter, Book 4) (7 page)

“
She's got a point,” Pan piped up.

Trevor dropped him and all that was heard for the next few minutes was the sound of Acan gasping for breath. He stared up at Trevor with pure hatred and Trevor gave it right back. When Acan finally caught his breath, Pele calmly walked up and put a hand on Trevor's arm, gently edging him aside. She crouched down in front of the prone man.

“How many?”

“
This is all,” he looked way too smug for that to be the truth.

Pele held up a hand, closing all fingers except her pointer, which began to glow. Like molten lava. She slowly lowered it to Acan's face, leaving it half an inch away from his skin as he shrank back into the side of the broken crate he was propped against. She regarded him steadily, as one would regard a hedge you were about to trim. Just a job that needed to be done with the minimum amount of effort possible but the maximum effect.

“I have dreamed of listening to you scream,” she said in a bored voice. “So please know that I have no problem burning every inch of skin from your body, asking the healer to do his work, and then starting all over again. In fact, I relish the thought.”

“
This is it,” Acan's voice was shaky and sweat was pouring down his forehead.

“
You are going to die this day,” she continued as if he hadn't said anything. “It's only a question of how long you shall suffer. This is the only choice you have left.”

“
There is a leather journal,” he bit out. “In the office upstairs. Look in the desk drawer. It will have the locations of the other sites. It has everything in it.”

Pele looked back at me, “Godhunter, would you mind?”

“Sure, no problem,” I turned to leave and Trevor followed me out.

I didn't bother with all the stupid female empowerment shit like,
I don't need any help,
or
I can manage going up a set of stairs by myself
. That wasn't just a waste of my breath, it was stupid. Some of Acan's sun-cooked men could have woken up or maybe fresh stock arrived. Whatever, there could be shit to get into and I wasn't about to begrudge Trevor's company.

We found the main staircase and ran up it quickly. The landing at the top gave way to two hallways and that was where we split briefly. I ran down one and he the other until I heard him yell: “Here.” I went running back to find Trevor already rummaging through a gigantic wood desk. I went to help, pulling drawers out and sorting through the mess of paperwork that it appeared even drug lords couldn't escape.

Finally, I found the book and we headed back downstairs. When we reached the open door to the storage tower, the sound of cracking wood alerted me to what my companions had been occupying their time with. Inside, I found dozens of crates smashed open, most of them filled with the white blocks but quite a few had those sparkling blue ones too.

“
I didn't realize Net was illegal,” I handed the journal over to Pele, who flipped through the pages efficiently.

“
Not illegal,” Odin said with distaste. “We don't govern ourselves as such. It's just a wicked substance used by the weaker of our kind to control those more powerful. Very few take it recreationally, and those are usually gods who have given up on the world and life in general. It's a coward's weapon.”

“
I understand,” and I did. When Balder had used it on me, I had dropped down into a paralysis born of apathy and confusion. He could have killed me and I wouldn't have raised a hand to stop him. In fact, he would have if it hadn't been for Loki.

When I looked back at Acan, Pele had him in her grip again. This time she smiled and it sent shivers down my spine. Who knew the Fire Goddess could be so cold?

“Why do you care about them?” Acan screamed up at her, held in mid-air by magic and her hand around his throat. “They’re only humans! We are gods! I’ve only done what all of us do.”

“
Not all of us,” Odin’s voice was a low rumble, “and we especially don't use such underhanded tools against our own kind.”

“
Then you’re fools,” the Mayan was fighting the bonds with everything he had, veins bulging in his face and neck.

“
No, you are the fool,” Pele’s eyes went hot and a river of lava flowed out from them, traveling beneath her skin and down her arm. “The relationship we created with humans was meant to be symbiotic. They gave us power and we gave them magic, be it through protection, love, healing, or even sickness. It all had a place and we were there to decide where it should go. We guided them with our advanced knowledge and we learned as well. A lot of the gods have forgotten this and that saddens me but
I
have not forgotten, my people have not forgotten, and I will not abandon them. Not now, not ever, and definitely not for the likes of you.”

Acan started to scream, his skin blistering and turning bright red, before his clothes caught fire. I gasped and stepped back but a part of me applauded and was moved by Pele’s speech. I had heard before that the relationship between us and the Atlanteans was meant to be symbiotic but I'd never heard it said with so much passion. Or heard a god admit that they could learn from us. Also, it was rare to find one who truly loved her people.

Enjoying yourself, Godhunter?
Anubis’ voice echoed in my head. I clenched my teeth and tried to ignore him.
Do you like watching gods suffer? Grovel? I’ll bet you do. You love the hunt… the kill, and you tell yourself it’s all in the name of survival. It’s for the greater good. Are you so different from the gods you hunt? I don’t think so. Worse, I think. At least we are honest about what we do.

Twist my actions all you want,
I thought, directing my hatred at him.
You and I both know what gods do to humans, what this god in particular has done. I don’t enjoy the kill, I never have, but I make sure to remember it. I make sure to sear it into my soul and pay the price with my memory.

He quieted and I hoped he was gone for good, as the scene continued to play out before me. Acan’s hair had caught fire but the flames wouldn’t kill him, nothing but decapitation would, so he just continued to scream. The sound was horrendous and I found myself wanting to cover my ears.

“Madame,” I called to Pele. “This is beneath you. You've had your revenge, now let's be done with this nasty business. Let me kill him.” I unsheathed my magically enhanced kodachi. The short sword caught the sunlight on its edge.

Pele frowned, looking over the charring flesh of her enemy. “You’re right, his suffering has eased my wrath. Now he only sickens me. Do what you do best, Godhunter.” She dropped him to the floor, where he immediately rolled out the flames. Stop, Drop, and Roll. It was surprising how many people forgot that.

I walked forward and stared down at his whimpering, patheticness. My stomach twisted at the smell of cooked meat and I fought back the lioness, who reared up for the kill. The selfish god had caused more suffering than I could imagine but it still bothered me to see him tortured. I was not naive enough to think that he could be saved but I wasn’t jaded enough to believe in useless torment either. Vengeance was ugly and slow, justice should be swift.

I lifted my blade and as I brought it down, severing the god’s neck and sending him into whatever kind of afterlife awaited the gods, Anubis whispered once more.

I don’t understand you.

Chapter Nine

I didn’t hear from Anubis again until I was standing in the bathroom of my suite in Pride Palace. I guess the God of the Dead had a thing for water.

The bathroom was large and open, dominated by a central, sunken tub that could easily fit five. It was round, deep enough that it required a set of stairs to get into, and lined with a shelf for sitting. In the center, a large showerhead was hung, negating the need for shower doors or curtains since the spray didn’t have a snowball's chance in hell, of reaching the edge. Okay, probably not the best times to be using idioms referring to hell.

Normally I would make use of the shower, the bath using too much water for just me. My Japanese blood hated to waste but after the horrible week I’d been having, the other seventy-five percent of my genes was taking over. The mix of Caucasian and Native American was telling my reserved Japanese to take a hike, we wanted a bath.

I watched as the water rushed into the tub from four foot-long narrow openings beneath the rim. The mammoth basin was filled in less than five minutes and I was rushing to turn off the faucets. Damn, that was a lot of water to pump in so fast. Must be the god plumbing.

I threw off my clothes, laying them on one of the numerous pieces of bamboo furniture, and happily made my way down the steps and into the warm water. At the bottom I sank down, letting the water cover my head and plug my ears with the welcome silence only submersion could provide. I floated to the top, breaking the surface with my face so I could breathe, but keeping my ears filled with the liquid oblivion. I felt a ledge beneath me and braced myself against it, splashing with my toes in delight. Naked, weightless, warm, and wet… it was just what I needed. Of course Anubis chose to interrupt that peaceful moment.

You confuse me, Godhunter.

I lost my balance, sputtering and dropping to the bottom, almost succeeding in hitting my head on the ledge and drowning in the process. I shot back up, gasping for air as I climbed onto the seat. Once there, I pushed the tangled, wet mass of my hair out of my face and glared at the empty air in front of me.

“Can’t I enjoy one bath without you?” I growled.

You’re mine, your privacy is gone,
he sounded snooty enough to slap. If he’d been corporeal I would have gotten my peaceful mood back by doing just that.
I’ll talk to you when I wish.

“
What the fuck do you want?”

I want to know why you felt pity for Acan,
his voice really was laced with a fair amount of confusion.

“
You’re the God of Death,” I rubbed the water off my eyes. “You must’ve felt pity for someone before.”

Never,
I could almost hear him shrug.
By the time I meet a human, they’re already dead and beyond anyone’s pity. I feel nothing for their souls but the respect my office requires and as far as gods go, we don’t require or desire pity
.

“
You sound kind of pathetic,” I mused.

Pathetic,
more confusion,
You pity me because I don’t feel pity? Are all humans this strange?

“
You really have no contact with living humans?” I followed the tangent, since I didn’t want to keep discussing pity with an unemotional death god. “What about when they worship you?”

That was priests chanting the same prayers over and over. Incense, candles, and offerings. It gave me power but no insight.
He paused long enough for me to wonder if he’d got bored and left. I started to relax back against the ledge but then he spoke again.
I’ve looked into your thoughts, searched your memories, and I am left even more disturbed.

“
Hey! Get out of there,” I sat up straight. “That’s private stuff!”

I’ve already told you,
he almost sounded patient.
There will be no privacy between us. I’d thought you were a bloodthirsty killer, using your humanity as an excuse to murder, but I see now the path you’ve followed, and it's more complicated than I’d assumed.

“
Great, so let’s just let bygones be bygones and all that,” I smiled hopefully, even knowing it wasn’t going to be that easy. “Why don’t you pull back this chill and we can be friends?”

There is still the issue of your punishment
, why the hell did he sound like some caring father figure who just had my best interests at heart?
You attacked me and the God of Death does not allow himself to be attacked without retribution.

“
You attacked me first,” this was ridiculous. Why was I even bothering with reason? Obviously this guy was unreasonable.

No
, his voice lowered,
it was you who made the first move. You broke my neck, Lioness
.

I remembered it in vivid Technicolor then, which was odd since I'd experienced it in black and white. As a lioness, all of my other senses were amplified so I didn't even miss the colors, it seemed like they were still there. Maybe that's why I remembered them, my human mind was trying to make sense of my lioness memories and so inserted color.

That makes it sound like I'm a different being when I shift but that's not the case. I was still me, just in a different body, with different urges leading me. My lioness was the huntress. She was the part of me that delighted in the kill and it was her tongue that had savored the taste of Anubis’ blood when I’d torn into his neck.