The Black God (#2, Damian Eternal Series) (20 page)

“Do you think they can sew it back on?” she
whispered.

“No, Ash, I don’t.”

She nodded as if expecting the answer. “We
have to find him, Jonny.”

“We will.” In that moment, he was surprised
to realize how serious he was. Brandon had been a side mission to
him. One life wasn’t going to outweigh the future of his vamps.
Witnessing Ashley’s tortured look, however, left him feeling cold
inside.

“We better go.” Gathering her knives, she
pushed herself to her feet with effort.

Jonny rose as well. “You okay?”

“Does it matter?”

It shouldn’t.
“You’re in shock, Ash.”

“I’m just tired.”

Jonny didn’t argue. He had seen shell
shocked vamps before, usually when they were new to the
organization. Hell, he had spent his first two years in a state of
shock and disbelief. Such phases normally didn’t end well without
intervention. Of everything he had on his plate, walking Ashley
through this wasn’t a task he had planned for.

“C’mon. Let’s get back,” he said and held
out his hand.

Her gaze lingered on it. She put her weapons
away and accepted his offer. Jonny Traveled back to the Virginia
hideout and materialized outside of her room. She released him and
pushed her door open.

“No chain tonight?” she asked acidly.

“Get cleaned up. I’ll wait.”

She didn’t acknowledge him and slammed the
door.

Jonny glanced down at the boxes he carried.
He had a feeling tossing them wasn’t something Ashley was ready
for. Keeping them wasn’t particularly appealing but neither did he
blink at the thought of keeping severed body parts in his fridge.
The smell was irritating, the scent of human blood detectable to
his sensitive nostrils no matter where he stood in his suite.

He Traveled to the kitchen in his suite and
left the boxes in the fridge before returning to Ashley’s room.

Charles was present smelling of sweat and
vamp blood. “New Taser,” he said and lifted the device.

Jonny wanted to smile but didn’t. His
second’s methods had definitely made an impact on Ashley. Charles
was shrewd like that, another reason Jonny trusted him. “I got it
tonight,” he said. “She’s not coping well.”

“The other raids were successful?”

“Very,” Jonny replied. “No sign of Valon,
but with the massacre at the warehouse, we took out over a hundred
of his vamps tonight.”

“He won’t take that well.”

“I’m counting on him finding me at some
point,” Jonny said confidently. “I’m pulling Ashley off the
raids.”

Charles studied him. “May I
speak my opinion freely,
ikir
?”

Jonny gave a single nod of his head.

“If she fights like she did tonight, she’s
more effective than an entire raid party.”

Jonny crossed his arms.

“I will always defer to
your decision,
ikir,
” Charles added. “She’s undisciplined and barely understands
how to work on a team. She is, in every way, a potential
liability.”

“You just said you want her to go back
out.”

“You should know the risk before you decide.
She did what would take ten of my vamps to do and in a quarter of
the time. She killed most of the vamps you saw and all of the ones
you didn’t see in the bunker,” Charles continued. “I want her
because she’s the best fighter we have, possibly the best fighter
the Guardians have, too. But I know putting her out there also
attracts more danger. Using her is high risk.”

“We’re used to high risk situations.”

“I don’t mean high risk to
us,
ikir.
”

It dawned on Jonny that his second was
uncharacteristically dancing around a topic rather than outright
addressing it. “If you think I am influenced by Xander or anyone
else to spare her, I am not,” he said, perturbed. “I’ve done what
was fair.”

“You’ve done what was best for everyone
involved, as always,” Charles agreed. “The men understand after
tonight why you spared her. She saved their lives and mine. They
don’t question you or your actions. Neither do I. That said, you
are entitled to protect your best asset when you feel the situation
warrants it. You’re entitled to be a little selfish sometimes.”

“There’s no room for my selfishness,” Jonny
snapped.

Charles didn’t so much as blink. “Be that as
it may, you should know the risk to her before you send her out
again.”

“I’ll consider your advice as always,
Charles, and I’ll act in such a way as benefits my people.”

Charles bowed his head.

“Go eat and rest,” Jonny said.

Charles went without another word.

Jonny watched him. His second had never
ventured out of his lane to advise him, and Jonny didn’t quite know
what to think of it. He owed Ashley nothing more than he promised,
and his responsibility was always first and foremost to his
vamps.

Yet it sounded like Charles was telling him
no one would fault him if his interest in Ashley became … personal.
Whatever she’d done this night had been incredible if she managed
to change the stance of a hardened vamp like Charles on a mere
Natural.

I don’t do personal
involvement,
Jonny chanted, not for the
first time. His concern for Ashley had to extend only to her
usefulness to him. He resolved himself to this once more or at
least, he thought he had, when she opened the door to her
room.

Ashley was pale. Her dark hair was wet and
braided. A line of white pain lined her striking, luminous
blue-gray eyes that always managed to pierce his best intentions
and remind him how he’d once felt for her. He sensed the impending
seizure and realized Charles was right. A night like this was high
risk to Ashley in more than one way.

She didn’t ask for help but in that moment,
she didn’t need to. He reached for her instinctively and placed his
palm along the warm skin of her neck, the only real exposed area
where he could be skin-to-skin with her. It took little effort for
him to stem the pain and seizure both.

Ashley’s eyes closed, and she shuddered as
both abated. Jonny pulled her gently against him. She didn’t
resist. The moment her arms circled him, he wished she’d had. Her
body was whispering its secrets even without biting her. She was
fatigued, lost, scared, furious.

He rested his chin on her head, listening to
secrets he suspected she’d never want him to know.

“You’re grounded tomorrow,” he said
quietly.

“No. I have to find Brandon.” She craned her
neck back to meet his gaze.

“You seizing up mid fight isn’t going to
help anyone.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Like you are now?” he challenged. “You’re a
liability in this condition.”

The look of pure devastation crossing her
features left him amused rather than concerned. Ashley had never
been good at covering her emotions. He had learned to put distance
between his feelings and himself in order to become a leader often
faced with decisions that would crush someone who stopped to feel.
Her innocent candor struck him as oddly endearing, a reminder of
yet another way they had grown a part. She had the luxury of
emotions. He was almost relieved she hadn’t lost what he had given
up.

“
The answer is no,” he said
firmly. “I’ll patch you up so you don’t have an episode, then
you’ll take a day off to rest. If you’re in better shape after,
you’ll join them again. If not, you’re grounded as long as it
takes.”

“I really hate you right now.” Her words
were spoken without heat. Rather than strain to be free of him, she
averted her gaze and rested her cheek against his chest.

Her level of fatigue wasn’t about to
discourage him from his dinner, either. If anything, he knew
draining her some would knock her out faster. “You ready for this?”
he asked and nudged her head aside.

“Why not.” Her pulse quickened beneath the
fingers resting on her neck. She stiffened automatically, as if
waiting for him to bite her as he had several times before – hard
enough to hurt her.

But Jonny was gentle this night as last. He
nuzzled her neck and breathed in her scent, aware of her hand
tightening and twisting the material of his t-shirt. She hated the
moment before he bit her. He relished it, the feel of her warmth,
the simple intoxication of her smell, the hitch in her breathing
that told him she was more affected by his touch than she let
on.

His teeth slid into her neck, and he held
her against him. She relaxed in his arms when no pain came with the
bite. She was a mess emotionally and physically. The flow of her
emotions hit him harder this time, and her body was crying out for
rest she insisted she didn’t need. Jonny assessed whether or not
she was going to have a breakdown after her discovery at the
warehouse or her sudden killing spree that followed. From what he
could see in her mind, she had no regrets about the vamps – but
she’d break if Brandon died.

It bothered him to see the truth. He
purposely hadn’t looked into the mind of anyone he fed from in
years, and he recalled why. To see the emotions of another so
intimately was to absorb them, and he didn’t want that, even with
Ashley.

He drank his fill and released a thrum of
power into her as he finished.

Ashley’s body responded instantly. She
sagged in his arms, unconscious. Before he withdrew, he directed
her mind not to awaken for a full twenty four hours or more, when
she was rested and ready.

Jonny tucked her into bed before Traveling
to his room, where Charles waited. His second immediately held out
the phone Jonny left there.

“You might want to check this first,” he
advised.

Jonny accepted it. He expected bad news at
every front anymore. There hadn’t been good news in … well,
forever.

D & D want to meet.
Now. Our beach,
Xander had
typed.

“Fuck me,” Jonny muttered. “The last thing I
need right now is those assholes in my business.”

“Valon’s vamps wiped out another forty
humans today. We can expect him to retaliate tomorrow for the
warehouse.”

“I know, Charles. I get it. I need to go to
Damian. It’s my duty to deal with him,” Jonny said unhappily. “I
hate them judging me. I hate admitting something’s outside my
control to people who already expect me to fail. I wanted the mess
with the Others to be the last time I had to work with them.”

“Ikir,
the expectations of another have no influence over us unless
we let them.”

“I know.” Jonny rubbed his face. His glance
went towards the fridge. “I gotta deliver some bad news
anyway.”

“I’ll let you know if we have any
emergencies.” Charles said.

Jonny Traveled to the beach where he
routinely met Xander, expecting his audience to be waiting. Blond
haired Damian and his older brother Darian had identical golden
eyes, but that was where their similarities ended. Confident,
alpha, blond-haired Damian was thick and muscular whereas brunet
Darian’s frame was whip like and his temperament erratic at
best.

Xander stood a short distance from the two
brothers, arms folded across his chest.

Jonny stilled his emotions and approached.
Charles was right. He had long since considered these men his
equals – even if they weren’t on the same page yet.

“Gentlemen,” he greeted them. “How can I
help you?”

Darian started to smile. Of the two
brothers, he was Jonny’s preferred. The Grey God was in a position
of balance, though his loyalty lay strictly with Damian. He had
spent ten thousand years as a slave to the previous Black God and
yet, he was much closer to neutral on the topic of vamps living in
harmony with humans than the White God.

Damian, however, wasn’t happy. His gold gaze
held intelligence and a shrewdness Jonny knew to expect after their
interactions.

“Been cleaning up your messes,” Damian
started, not one to beat around the bush. “Xander’s encouraged me
to hear you out when I want nothing more than to send in my
Guardians and wipe out your fucking vamps. Want to tell me what the
fuck is going on?”

Jonny knew instinctively Damian would
probably never admit it if they found his hackers in the database,
but he doubted this was how Damian would lead off if so.

“I have a rogue problem,” he started
smoothly. “A few of my vamps don’t agree with my leadership
direction and decided to act out.”

“Few,” Darian snorted. “It takes more than a
few for the massacre we saw today.”

“Forty people, Jonny. Life for a life,”
Damian reminded him.

“If you go to this location, you’ll find
over forty dead vamps,” Jonny said and texted Damian the location
of the raid from earlier. “I’m cleaning house.”

The Gods were silent, one suspicious, the
other curious. Xander remained off to the side, watching.

“How many?” Darian spoke first.

Jonny’s jaw clenched. They’d probably figure
it out quickly if he lied about the number. “We’ll just say seventy
less than yesterday,” he replied shortly. “We had a good day house
cleaning.”

“Seventy?” Damian’s eyebrows shot up. “This
isn’t a rogue problem, Jonny.”

“All because of your catch-and-release
program?” Darian asked.

“The old guard wasn’t happy with change,”
Jonny replied.

“How many more are out there?” Damian
demanded. “How many more deaths should I expect from your house
cleaning?”

Jonny was quiet for a
moment, hating to admit the truth to them. Damian was giving him
the
I-knew-he-couldn’t-handle-it
look while Darian appeared ready to laugh off the
stupid kid in charge of the vamps.

He reminded himself the insecurity he
experienced around them was leftover from who he had been when he
assumed the title of the Black God, not who he had become.