The Black God (#2, Damian Eternal Series)

The Black God

#2, Damian Eternal Series

By Lizzy Ford

LizzyFord.com

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Cover design by Eden Crane Design

www.EdenCraneDesign.com

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copyright ©2015 by Lizzy Ford

LizzyFord.com

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Cover design copyright © 2015
by Eden Crane Design

www.EdenCraneDesign.com

Cover photo copyright © 2015 by Miriam
Gonzales

www.miriamggonzalez.com

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All rights reserved.

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No part of this book may be reproduced in any
form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information
storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from
the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote
short excerpts in a review.

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This story is a work of fiction. Any
references to historical events; to real people, living or dead; or
to real locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of
reality and authenticity. Names, characters, places and incidents
either are products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously and their resemblance, if any, to real-life
counterparts is entirely coincidental

Four years after “Xander’s Chance”

The twenty-four-year-old Black God, Jonny
Rodriguez, towered over the purple-eyed, supernatural Other
sprawled at his feet. Charged energy rolled off him into the plains
of South Dakota, and the cool spring night did nothing to soothe
the fiery power in his blood.

“Last one,” said the man beside him. The
Grey God, Darian, waited for Jonny to give the signal. Only a
couple of people alive could kill one of the creatures at his feet,
though Jonny’s godlike powers could definitely stop one in its
tracks long enough for his temporary ally to crush it.

There was a time when Jonny would have
reacted to the Grey God’s pronouncement with triumph if not joy.
But the grueling war with the Others – the enemies of humans,
immortals and gods alike – had all but decimated his army of
vampires. Of the ten thousand vamps serving him when he ascended to
his position five years before, less than fifteen hundred remained.
His all out war had cost him almost everything. He’d watched the
creatures he was charged with defending die around him on a daily
basis, and it numbed the part of him capable of feeling.

His objective to destroy those who hurt or
killed what was his to protect replaced every other concern.
Nothing else existed outside of ensuring the enemies of his vamps
were wiped off the planet. Nothing else mattered except demolishing
his own personal resentment and anger, and what was left of his
humanity, for the greater good of the vamps he now led.

On the eve of his victory, he was … cold.
Empty. He gazed down into the glassy eyes of the Other trapped
beneath his power and couldn’t help thinking about tomorrow when
there was no enemy for him to hunt and slaughter. His mind had
shifted to the thought of the future the moment he realized the war
with the Others was already won.

As he stared at the Other, he realized he’d
already moved on. The last death, the last enemy, meant little to
him anymore, except possibly to serve as a warning of what might
happen to his own vamps if he didn’t act quickly to deal with the
White God, Damian, when this was over.

His stomach grumbled. With little sleep or
food for months, he was accustomed to running on empty. The last
Other did hold some meaning – it would become his first real meal
in too long.

Jonny reached down and gripped the neck of
the five foot tall creature. He hauled it to its feet, salivating
at the rapid thrum of its heartbeat beneath his fingers. His fangs
grew in anticipation. The Other squirmed, and Darian stood to the
side, waiting.

“This is gonna hurt,” Jonny told the
creature.

“You … cannot … kill me.”

“Wrong answer,
asshole.”
Arrogant until the end,
he thought.
“I can
definitely enjoy making you suffer before he kills you.” He tilted
his head towards Darian. Not about to give the creature a chance to
respond, Jonny tore into its throat.

In truth, Others tasted like shit. But he
was too hungry to care. He didn’t listen to the gurgled scream of
the creature or stop when it ceased writhing. Warm, metallic blood
poured down his throat. He drank and drank until his stomach began
to feel full and then threw the body to Darian to finish off.

Jonny tossed back his head to see the cloudy
sky and closed his eyes, allowing himself the split second of
victory before the reality of his critical situation returned.
Darian snapped the neck of the Other and dropped it.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” the Grey
God said. “You did good, kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” Jonny replied, opening his
eyes. “I’m the fucking Black God.”

“Yeah.” Darian winked. The golden-eyed Grey
God was generally a loose cannon, whose side of crazy Jonny assumed
resulted from ten thousand years of having his mind erased and
living in slavery. Of all the Guardians and allies of the White
God, Darian was the one Jonny tolerated best. “You wanna rein that
shit in so we can all have a nice little chat?”

The politics were starting already. Jonny
looked around them. His magic was dark and laced with red lightning
bolts. It spread for a mile in each direction, across the grassy
plains, and destroyed every living thing it touched. Not even vamps
survived an encounter with the magic. When he loosened his control,
he had the ability to wipe out a city. The location for the final
confrontation with the Others had been chosen carefully for that
reason. His temporary allies offered their assistance in exchange
for no humans being hurt.

Ringed around his dark power was a buffer of
white, Damian’s magic, to prevent Jonny’s power from spreading too
far outside of the area. His vamps were beyond the white ring,
waiting for the magic of both gods to subside.

The Grey God was capable of moving through
the power fields of both White and Black Gods – but he was the only
one.

Jonny released his breath and shook out his
tense frame. His power responded to thoughts rather than commands,
and the darkness around them dissipated.

“Just, you know, play nice,” Darian told
him, upbeat and unconcerned.

Jonny wiped the blood from his mouth onto
his sleeve. The Grey God was rarely fazed by anything, even the
three week marathon of hunting the final Others that left Jonny
wanting to tumble into his bed for a two day hibernation.

The White God materialized seconds after
Jonny’s power withdrew from the area. He was accompanied by the
three Original beings who acted as mediators during negotiations
and disputes, and the vamp Jonny trusted most.

“Jonny.” Damian greeted him. The White God
appeared pensive rather than happy about the Others being gone.
Jonny knew why before the words left his mouth. “I know you’ll want
a truce to recover, but I’m not inclined to agree this time. Not
without strict terms.”

“I wiped out your enemies. I think some
leeway is due,” Jonny replied.

“Even so … I think it’s time the training
wheels come off. I’ve overlooked a great deal to give you some
space to grow. I’ve got -”

“Before you dictate how I should do my job,”
Jonny interrupted, holding up his hands. “I’m one step ahead of
you.”

The Original Vamp, Original Human and
Original Immortal watched, off to the side, their presences all but
forgotten by Jonny and Damian. The Grey God was cleaning his nails
with the sharp tip of a knife, listening and quiet.

“I’m creating a catch-and-release protocol,”
Jonny began. “You leave my vamps alone. In turn, we no longer kill
humans but continue to use them as a food source.”

Damian crossed his arms.

“That’s not possible,” said the Original
Human, her pale features tight and luminous eyes on Jonny. “Your
people are animals. You can’t teach an animal to respect its
food.”

“We’re
not
animals,” replied the Original
Vamp. Seven feet of solid muscle and pure menace, Xander was one of
Jonny’s on-again, off-again mentors. “Jonny and I spoke at length
about this. It’s plausible.”

“The kid can’t do much harm anyway at this
point,” the Original Immortal agreed. Tattooed and dark skinned,
Jules was one of the White God’s adopted brothers. “Most of his
vamps are dead.”

Jonny tensed at the reminder of his failure
to protect his people.

“You want me to trust you can manage your
vamps well enough to ensure they don’t kill?” Damian asked.

“Yes,” Jonny replied. “If one of mine kills
a human, I’ll discipline the vamp.”

Damian snorted. “Discipline.”

“That’s vamp lingo for kill,” Xander said,
amused.

“It’s a good idea,” the Grey God chimed in.
“But I’ve met some of your vamps. They ain’t gonna like it.”

“Then they will be disciplined,” Jonny
replied firmly.

“I’m trying to figure out if you’re capable
of doing this or trying to trick me,” Damian mused. “I’m not
opposed. But, Jonny, your adjustment period has been a great deal
of trial and error, with the emphasis on error.”

Anger stirred within Jonny. He understood
the concern after his first year or two of disastrous attempts at
leading the vamps, but he also knew Damian hadn’t been close enough
to see his transformation. “I can handle my vamps,” he said with
great control. Every bone in his body wanted him to tell the people
before him to fuck off and walk away to do what he planned to
anyway. It was one thing to rule over the vamps, quite another to
swallow the idea he was still viewed as incapable of handling his
duty by outsiders whose opinions didn’t matter to him.
Unfortunately, they also had power, and he was forced to be
diplomatic rather than explain to them in no uncertain terms that
his domain and his vamps were his to rule.

His second in command, Charles, shifted, and
Jonny took the subtle hint to offer a carrot he didn’t really want
to.

“If you don’t believe me, then I’ll agree to
a trial period,” he added. “Six months.”

“So you do want a truce,” said Damian.

“Not a truce, a trial,” Jonny replied. “My
goal is to change the relationship vamps have with humans. Make it
more sustainable and give vamps a chance not to spend their lives
hunted down and treated like animals.” He gave the Original Human a
pointed look.

“Never really took you for the idealistic
type,” Damian replied. He glanced at Xander.

Jonny had the sense the two were talking in
their heads to one another. It irked him how he was treated like
someone who didn’t have a clue when he had spent five years in his
position, four of which were at war with the Others. He knew his
domain inside and out after the daily updates about finances,
resources, loss of life, and compromised locations.

More importantly, he had learned how to use
his power, how to crush the human side of him that was viewed as
weakness by the predators he led. Vamps were accustomed to
violence. It was the only language they really understood. While
that might one day change, for now, he had to speak to them and
discipline them in a way they respected.

In the end, it was about the survival of his
people, and Jonny was sworn to do whatever it took to ensure that
happened, no matter how high the personal cost to him.

“Six months,” Damian said. “If we catch any
of your vamps fucking with Guardians or humans beyond what we deem
acceptable as part of the catch-and-release program, they’re killed
on the spot.”

Jonny almost sighed in relief. He was
looking forward to some rest and recovery time. “Fine,” he
agreed.

“This is a mistake,” said the Original
Human, her frown deep.

“Vote,” the Grey God suggested. “All in
favor of letting Jonny run his own shit … hands up.”

The Grey God, Xander and the Original
Immortal voted with Jonny. The White God and Original Human voted
against.

“You get your chance, Jonny. Good luck,”
Damian said. The White God turned and strode away, trailed by the
Originals and the Grey God.

Jonny didn’t sigh until they had
disappeared. He wiped his face, exhausted, and observed the
movement of his vamps in the plains around them. The numbers
appeared even smaller than usual, and he shook his head, hating
that he’d lost so many.