A Taste for Blood (The Godhunter, Book 6) (44 page)

BOOK: A Taste for Blood (The Godhunter, Book 6)
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His front legs went out beneath us and I was pitched forward, landing in a pile of grasping arms. I spun about, swinging my sword in an arc and backing up to my fallen horse, er, Rain. He was being overcome by the dead people and I hacked them back as I took up a stance near his shaking body. A flash to my right caught my attention and I saw Pan gleefully throw his own magic into the mix.

Pan's ability was to cause panic and usually it was a fine weapon. The enemy would turn on itself, half the time. This time however, nothing happened. I frowned, listening for the sounds of rising panic as I fought off the dead, but nothing came.

“Dead men don't panic,” Azrael alighted beside me, adding his sword to mine and helping me to cut a circle around Rain.


Shit,” I swore as I saw more magic light the sky.

There was ozone in the air as well as waves of heat. The sweet perfume of roses battled the stench of decay. It was a cluster fuck of godly proportions and the only ones I knew were alive for certain were the two by my side. My heart pounded harder in my chest.

Then I was being lifted and Azrael's body was smashed out of the way. I twisted in a strong grip and was able to look straight into Eris' face.


Hello, little bug,” she smirked as she ran back to her side of the battle with me. “Time for me to squish you.”

From the height she'd raised me to, I could see the whole battlefield and it wasn't pretty. My side was failing, falling under the tide of the Ignoble Dead. They might have been losers but boy were they determined to win now.

I cried out when Odin was pulled from his horse, Sleipnir rearing and screaming along with me. No, please no. Then Trevor went down and my wolf howled and tore at my belly, desperate to help her mate. I crumpled in upon myself, tears already beginning to fall. Kirill? Az? Where were they?

Persephone was amid a circle of green, vines rising from the earth to trap anyone who ventured too close to her or Hades. Then Hades would reach a hand out, burning the enemy to ash in seconds. They made a good team but they too were being overwhelmed by sheer numbers. The plants couldn't hold them all and Hades just couldn't burn them fast enough.

A mound of bodies were suddenly thrown in an explosion of limbs, betraying Fenrir's location. It looked as if the Wolf God would be all right but then the swarm overtook him again and a horrible roar filtered over to me.

Mrs. E and Mr. T were fighting back to back, her water doing a better job of washing away the dead than his heat was. There was a haze of steam around them and though it looked like they were okay, in seconds, the fog grew so thick, I couldn't see through it anymore.

Snarls, roars, whinnies, growls, yips, and screams melded with the clang of metal and the pound of feet on hard ground. My war magic was rejoicing but Victory was faltering, knowing whose side those sounds were coming from mainly. Those were the sounds of my friends dying.

Then I caught a glimpse of my sons. Vidar and Vali were running to their father's aid but they didn't make it five feet before they too were caught in the horde. I screamed when they went down, clawing at Eris' grip on me, desperate to get to my children.

“Oh, how sad,” Eris threw me to the dirt. “Are your lovers dying? Like my husband?” She screamed, lowering herself so that her face was almost pressed to mine. “Like my children?” She pointed back to the battlefield. “Listen, look,” she yanked me to my feet and I threw my hands down to release my claws, I'd lost my sword when she'd first picked me up. “Watch them fall, not even your angel is still standing,” she began to laugh but she suddenly faltered, choking and sputtering.

I looked over to where she stared in horror and started to laugh and cry all at once.

A large tear was hovering about five feet above the heads of the fighters, the rolling black of the Aether a sharp contrast to the blue sky of the God Realm. Through this tear swarmed monsters too horrible to describe. Many-eyed and many-limbed things, with sharp teeth and sharper claws, whose hides were leathery yellow or scabbed red, feathered, or furred, or any combination of all of those things. Liquid oozed and dripped from gaping mouths and bulging eyes, burning wherever it fell. Eyes glowed with horrible glee and the sounds the creatures made as they attacked Eris' army were terrifying, the stuff of nightmares, but the screams Eris' side started to make were even worse.

The Wild Hunt rode the air and Arach flew at their head, in glorious dragon form.

Dragon form. Fuck, I'd forgotten about my fire.

I breathed my flame upon Eris and she too began to scream, dropping me hard and clutching at her blackened face. I rolled but she was on me in an instant, stomping a foot on my forearm and breaking it. I screamed as she kicked my stomach, rupturing something in my belly. Pain shot through my body, even as it started to repair itself. I couldn't even draw breath to roast her again.

She picked me up by the neck, lifting me off my feet and holding me up to eye level. I clawed at her but she just laughed, strangling me and then breaking both of my wrists, one after the other, with a flick of her fingers. She bashed me into the ground and I felt more bones break, my legs, my ribs, my back. I would heal eventually but she wasn't going to give me the time. I had only one option left, only one thing I could manage without breath or limbs.

I reached for her magic as I hung limply before her and felt it rise to my call. It flowed straight from her hands into my body, draining her of power and shrinking her all at once. I fell, dropped by her now tiny hand, and lay painfully immobile as I stared up into her shocked face. I continued to pull out her magic with grim determination. It was dark, a thick, choking kind of energy that clung to my throat like sour milk, as I drank it down. It filled me from my feet to the top of my head but it just kept coming. There was so much hatred, so much evil, it wouldn't stop.

I writhed as it flowed over the other magics I held, threatening to drown them all. Had I worried over my dragon nature killing my other magic? The dragon in me was not nearly as threatening as this consuming darkness. At least the dragon had feelings, compassion, and reasoning, this magic was nothing but hate.

I heard a snarling growl and was able to briefly open my eyes to see a huge black dog with burning eyes, standing beside me. She snapped at anyone who dared come to close, protecting me as I drained Eris.

My fingers dug into the dirt beneath me, twisting in pain and misery, as I cried out. I couldn't lose my other magics, if I did, I knew I'd be a slave to this evil, completely under the spell of a power that had never been good and so could not be redeemed. It was killing me for my resistance but even as it did, something inside me went soft, accepting, at peace knowing that I'd kept Eris from rallying her troops against the Wild Hunt. My friends and lovers had a chance now and I would happily die for that.

Just as long as I took her with me.

At my throat, the emerald heated, pulsing in time with my slowing heartbeat. That sound grew, my whole world becoming a thumping, green haze. I felt the heat sink into my skin and spread, filling me with knowledge, showing me the way to survive. I gasped, following the thread of power and pulling my waning strength together long enough to start the process revealed to me by the stone. The process that would be impossible without the emerald itself.

A green glow surrounded me and I flattened my body to the earth as it pushed into me and then through me, collecting the dark magic along the way and taking it into the ground to safely release. I coughed and sucked in a gasping breath as it left me, the last bits flowing from Eris' mummified body, into mine, and then into the ground.

It took me awhile to heal enough bones to be able to stand but when I did, I realized there was an unnatural hush around me. I blinked and focused on the army that ringed me in. A pulse of fear shot through me and left just as quickly. They weren't attacking, just standing and staring at me. Even the phooka had gone quiet, like she knew the fight was over. She sat on her haunches, looking at me expectantly. From what I could see of the rest of the battlefield, they were all turned toward me, waiting.


Your goddess is dead,” I called out into the still air and heard a few relieved shouts from the other side of the field. Just as I didn't know the fate of my people, they hadn't known mine. “You're free.”

A man separated himself from the rest of the group, his dress marking him as Greek. Haunted eyes narrowed on me as he shook his head and held his arms out to his sides. I frowned and took a wary step toward him. His expression turned pleading and he held his hand out to me.

“What is it you want from me?” I looked him over and a child brushed past him, hatred filling his little face. He kicked me in the shin. “Ow, you evil little... oh, I see.” I put a hand out to keep the phooka back. “You want to be yourselves again?” The man nodded, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Fuck,” I swore. “I don't even know where to begin.”

Then my pendant started to burn, glowing bright from my chest like a beacon and they all leaned forward as one. I gripped it, my hand reaching to the Ignoble Dead at the same time, and I felt the darkness tainting them. I could see it, black spiderwebs spread out through their bodies. I pulled on them, gathering all those little tendrils at once and yanking them free. A keening wail emerged from the mouths of the dead while I siphoned away the dark and let it rush through me and into the earth.

I felt nauseous while I drained them but when I finished, I was refreshed, clean in a way you can only be after first being disgustingly dirty. The man in the Greek armor stepped forward, shiny and smiling. He fisted his hand and brought it to his chest, over his heart, bowed his head, and then knelt before me. As one, the rest of the dead followed suit, until all that remained standing was my own army. I gasped in both surprise at the deference and relief to see my friends still alive. They were looking on with shock, the Host standing calmly among them.

Oh fuck, what now? I stared over the dead with growing apprehension. Was I responsible for all of them now? Where would I put them all? Could they just continue to live in Eris' territory? No, not without her there. It would fade away without her energy to support it. I guess I could try to claim it but just the thought of taking on responsibility for more people, made my head hurt.

“Hades!” I called with sudden inspiration. “Odin! Azrael! Anubis! I need you.” The four men came running, and in the case of my angel, flying over to me. “Can you claim these souls, now that they're clean? Maybe split them up amongst yourselves?”

They looked at me, each other, and then finally over to the previously Ignoble Dead. Heads lifted and looked at the gods with calm acceptance of whatever choice was made. Whatever happened from this point on, it didn't seem to concern them much. I guess being able to be yourself is worth any price.

“I think we can work something out,” Azrael said as he eyed the children. “I know there are Islamic, Sikh, and Christian souls who belong with me anyway. The rest can be divided among the others. Right, gentlemen?”


We'll find a way,” Odin nodded. Hades and Anubis followed suit.


Thank you,” I hugged them all and then we faced the dead. “These gods have agreed to take responsibility for you. They have ways to decide who will go with who. Please, if you know who you need to go with, come forth and stand before them.”

The crowd separated, people splitting into four groups, leaving just a few thousand with lost expressions.

“Well, that was easier than I'd thought,” Odin laughed. “I think we can manage the rest fairly quickly.”


The rest of you, please form a line, you'll be chosen by the god best suited for you. Don't worry, we'll see you safe in an afterlife that will be most comfortable for you.” Why did I suddenly feel like I was running a Divine DMV? I shook my head and swallowed my inappropriate laughter.

Heads bowed as I walked through the dead, the phooka at my side, on my way to the other side of the battlefield. A few of them even reached out and stroked my arm or murmured their thanks. I smiled, nodding to them as a new strength filled me. To come to a battle and save lives instead of just taking them, was a victory even I couldn't have hoped for. It was humbling and inspiring, and it was all possible because of a necklace Odin had given me in a past life. I touched the warm emerald and sent it a thought of thanks. I felt a happy little shivered reply. I smiled and vowed to thank Odin later as well. Maybe while wearing only the necklace.

Kirill and Trevor were by my side as soon as I made it free from the throng. Their faces were somber but relieved. I hugged them both at once, happy that we were all alive. When I pulled back, I scanned our army, searching for any missing faces.


Did we...” I swallowed hard. “Were there any casualties?”


A few,” Trevor answered but they both looked away. “We are lucky though. It could have been much worse.”


Who?” My throat was constricting. “Is Rain okay?”


Injured but he'll be fine. Taharon is busy healing all of our wounded,” Trevor met my gaze. “We lost a couple Froekn. Jess and Tyler.”


And five lions,” Kirill added, his body starting to shake and his eyes watering.


No,” I whispered and reached out with my senses to feel my cats. “Rick,” I gasped, thinking of the blonde, white guy with  dread locks. How I used to tease him that he didn't know he was white. “Hamish,” I cried. My Scottsman with the bright eyes and brighter hair. “Alan,” soft spoken and sweet. “Noel,” a feisty All-American boy with a ravishing smile, and finally, “George,” the poet, he was always scribbling away, thinking about some woman he needed like the air he breathed.

BOOK: A Taste for Blood (The Godhunter, Book 6)
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