Godhunter Read online

  “I’ll let the lady order for us,” he smiled at her, nodded graciously as if he were accepting his just due, and then looked at me expectantly. I shook my head, suspicions confirmed.

  “A bottle of Patron Silver and two shot glasses please,” I smiled sweetly at the poor woman who obviously hadn't learned to be more wary around the hotties.

  The waitress raised her eyebrows but just asked if we needed limes and salt along with. Very professional. Very used to rich alcoholics. After she sauntered off, I looked back at the god incognito seated across from me.

  “I thought you only wanted one drink,” he was smiling again. Did he never stop or was it just a clever way of lulling me into a false sense of security?

  “I didn’t say one, you did,” I leaned back and crossed my legs, not to be ladylike but just to have an excuse to be a little further away from him. I had no idea what he was up to and I wanted as much room as possible to reach my weapons if necessary.

  “Alright,” he did that head incline thing royalty does but he did it better. “Good choice, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Tequila drinker though.”

  “You’ve known me all of thirty minutes,” I smirked, “part of which you spent on the floor groaning. You shouldn’t have pegged me for anything other than a woman to guard your goodies around.”

  “I don’t know,” his eyes went suddenly still. “I think I could hazard a few guesses.”

  Maybe it wasn’t wise to remind him of the specifics of our introduction but hey, I just couldn’t help wanting to bring him down a notch. Cocky guys put my teeth on edge.

  “Try me.” I narrowed my gaze on his twitching lips but then noticed his eyes remained solemn.

  “I’d say first of all that you’re some kind of artist,” he leaned in even closer as he spoke, “you paint and your favorite subject is people.”

  I went quiet and as still as his eyes were. The statement was accurate, too accurate I started to wonder how much the gods knew about me until I noticed the spot of oil paint on my pinky. Phew, I smiled.

  “Very observant,” I shook my traitorous finger at him.

  “How would I know about your subject preference?” He smiled and leaned back for the waitress to deposit our order on the table. She poured us each a shot before leaving and I was grateful for the Twix moment.

  “Lucky guess,” I reached for my glass and eyed him suspiciously over the rim as I sipped. I only shoot tequila when I either; A. Want to get drunk, B. Want to act tough, C. Want to get someone else drunk, or D. Any combination of the above.

  He shot his and poured another.

  “Tell yourself whatever you want, Miss,” he saluted me with his glass and downed it.

  Show off. I was so not going to rise to the challenge. He was a god. He could probably process alcohol in a heartbeat. Of course I 'm part Japanese and could do a fair amount of alcohol processing myself. I’m told it’s an allergic reaction a lot of Japanese have but basically it results in me being able to drink with the big boys but look as if I’m embarrassed the whole time (my face turns pink). I didn’t want to let him play on my insecurities but then again, I’d been the one who ordered the damn bottle in the first place.

  I threw back my shot and pushed it toward him. Oh well, I’m only human, put me down for B. Want to act tough.

  “What do you want, Thor?” I pulled my glass closer after he refilled it, and raised it to my lips.

  “You,” he smiled serenely.

  I sputtered and almost wasted good Tequila… almost.

  “Excuse me?” My hand hovered mid-air, unsure whether to continue with the drinking program or just give up in favor of open-mouthed confusion.

  “I think we’re after the same things,” he reached over and gently nudged my glass upwards. I drank without thinking and without taking my eyes off him.

  “I barely know you,” I turned the glass over this time, “how could you possibly know what I’m after?”

  “You were trying to steal the same information I was,” he shot a quick glance around the bar.

  “Trying?” Questions flew around my head like annoying gnats. Was he sent to get the plans back? Oh, did I mention I had the forbearance to grab said plans while I was kneeing him? Well I did and now the God of Thunder sat across from me drinking Tequila and talking about wanting me. Why wouldn’t he have just killed me and taken the plans if he wanted them? Why all the games? What the hell was going on?

  “You do have them,” he smiled like a cat that had just found a fallen bird-feeder… still full of birds.

  “Why would you be trying to steal them?” I ignored how sexy his smile was. I am a professional after all.

  “Not all gods are as horrible as you think,” he downed another shot, his eyes narrowing briefly under his furrowed brow.

  “Yeah, that’s what the Christians keep telling me,” I smirked, “can’t say for sure though, never met Jesus, just a few Mexicans with delusions of grandeur.”

  One perfectly formed eyebrow winged upward over the swirling blues and greens of his eyes. Was it the Tequila affecting me or were the colors really flowing together like mist? I pushed the shot glass away from me and sighed. It wouldn’t do to get all sloppy drunk with a god. Who knows where I’d wake up. Or if I'd wake up.

  “Some of us don’t agree with the majority,” he pretended to misinterpret my signal to stop drinking and refilled my glass before placing it back in front of me. I stared hard at it for a second so it knew who was boss, then picked it up and took a resigned sip.

  “What do you mean you don’t agree?” I looked around and faintly realized the sun was setting. Oh great, time for the rest of the monsters to come out and play.

  “I don’t think we need people to die for us to give us power,” he frowned at my distraction and I settled my attention back firmly onto what he was saying. “Most of us seem to think it’s the only way to raise as much power as the freely given blood used to bring but, like I said, my opinion differs.”

  “The blood?” I smirked at him and shook my head. “You mean sacrifice, specifically human, don’t you?”

  “I believe that's what I just said,” he sighed. “There’s no way around the fact that blood holds life and life is magic. When people sacrificed to us, we gained their magic and there’s nothing like it. The sacrifice of animals was good too but nothing brings the rush of a human life. It’s that rush my fellow deities are striving for. They plot to bring war among your kind so you’ll kill each other in their name again, this time on a mass scale, and they'll all share in the waves of pure energy it brings.”

  “Yes, yes,” I waved a hand imperiously, “I know all that. What I don’t know is why you, the God of Thunder, God of War, God of the Vikings who were known for their viciousness, would suddenly grow a soft spot and decide you didn’t want us to fight anymore.”

  “Trust me, I have no soft spots,” his lips twitched a little. “I just don’t think mass destruction is a good idea. You know about us, you know we need followers to grow in strength. The more people remember us and respect us, the more we thrive. Some of us have grown immense in ability. What you might not know is we don’t need that power to survive. Our talents are old and our magic will sustain us until the earth crumbles away and is nothing but so much debris. Even then, we may still survive to find another suitable planet. And by the way, I’m not just a god of war; I also rule the sky, all storms, sea-journeys, and justice.”

  I could feel my eyes grow round at his candor. I had no idea they were strong enough without our sacrifice to survive eternity. I'd always assumed that without humanity the Atlanteans would have died out long ago. I knew their magic was great but I had no idea it was comic book super villain great. My own magic seemed a poor shadow to it, although Ku’s book held enough of their spells to bring me a little closer to their level. Without that book, I'd already be dead.

  “Impressive résumé,” I found myself shooting Tequila again. Damn it, I had to stop that. “It still doesn’t
explain why you’d choose to miss out on all the extra power.”

  “Like I said, I don’t think the current course of action is wise. The way things are heading, your kind could blow the whole world apart and I like it here.”

  “Cause it's where you keep your stuff?” I smirked.

  “Some of it,” he smirked back.

  “So what do you propose?” I could feel the stolen documents crinkling against my waistband. The black silk of my top was already limp from the heat so it was a good guess he knew where said documents were. I reached to pull them out but his hand flew across the table and stopped me.

  “Not here,” he caressed my fingers along the line of the glove, where the leather was cut to leave my fingers bare. Looking to anyone who might be watching as if affection had been his true intention. “You wisely chose an open place to speak with me but if we go any further, we need privacy.”

  Privacy. Go any further. The words seemed to curl in my gut and try to snake their way lower. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be alone with the Nordic giant. It had been awhile since I was alone with any man, in a non-killing sense, and the last time hadn’t turned out so well.

  “What do you have in mind?” I slid my hand out from under his and he turned his head to the side, a little wrinkle appearing between his brows.

  “I have a boat up at the Yacht Club,” he pulled his hand back and refilled my glass. The wrinkle disappeared.

  “Like I’m going to follow you onto your boat.”

  “You have a problem with boats?” His eyes crinkled at the corners and just for a second I wondered exactly how much he knew about me.

  “You think you know me?” I narrowed my eyes at him and tried to look as fierce as possible which is difficult when you’re built like me. Oh, I worked out but I wasn't what you'd call ripped. My love of food prevented that and normally I preferred it that way. A woman should look like a woman. Unfortunately, my lack of height on top of my lack of obvious muscles didn’t exactly make me Amazon material. What it did do was make it hard for me to look terrifying.

  “I do know you, Vervain,” he smiled when my jaw dropped. “Did you think I wouldn’t know the Godhunter when I saw her?”

  “Godhunter?” My voice sounded too weak for my comfort.

  “Were you unaware you’d made a name for yourself?” His eyes showed a little surprise too. Well yippee-kai-yay, I wasn’t the only one.

  “I didn’t realize I was known at all,” I had hoped my kills had gone unnoticed or at least unaccounted for by the rest of the gods.

  “Oh, you’re known,” his smile returned. “Did you really think you could kill gods and no one would notice?”

  “Well it’s not like I left my business card.” Grisly scenes passed through my head. Images I tried hard not to dwell on and which I sometimes needed large amounts of alcohol to banish. I hunted gods, it wasn't like I was going to give them a fair fight if I could help it. Most of the time I felt like an assassin, sneaking up on my unsuspecting victims and leaving bloody crime scenes in my wake. I never worried about getting caught since most of their homes were in the God Realm. It's not like the police would be investigating. So I never thought to cover my tracks. Maybe next time I'd torch the place when I was done.

  “A few of the gods you killed had surveillance cameras,” he smiled as the blood drained from my face. Gods with security cameras, no I hadn't counted on that. “You also left your scent everywhere. As soon as I smelled you, I knew who you were.”

  “What, are you part bloodhound or something?” I didn’t like being in the dark but then I was still fairly new to this game. Maybe I should cut myself some slack just this once. I'd have to be way more careful in the future. Fire, definitely fire. It would take care of any trace and be a double guarantee on death. If only I could burn the memories as well.

  “We have very acute senses,” he licked his full lips and I couldn’t tear my gaze away. “Taste, hearing, touch, sight, and smell, they’re all heightened on us.”

  “Well woopdee-diddley-doo,” I couldn’t help it, I was getting turned on and I needed to cover it up with something. Sarcasm won out as usual. Thor did that godly laughing thing again, which did nothing for my efforts to tamp down my lust. Maybe I needed to start dating. Going five years without getting some lovin’ was not good for god-resisting. I made a mental note to go out that weekend.

  “I forget how amusing people can be,” he was laughing so hard he actually had tears in his eyes.

  “Okay fine,” I sighed, “I’m funny and I stink. No matter how much you flatter me, I’m still not going on your damn boat.”

  “I didn’t say you smell bad,” he was getting that confused look again but at least the laughter had stopped. “Why don’t you accept compliments like a normal woman?”

  “There is no normal here… Thor,” I said his name as if it explained it all. “Lots of interesting things going on but none of them are normal.”

  “Point taken,” he licked his lips again, the bastard. “I’m intrigued.”

  “No you’re not,” I held up my pointer finger, “you’re amused, remember? And the answer is still no.”

  “I offer you my blood as safeguard,” he pulled a tiny blade from his pocket and cut his thumb. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, I would have laughed to see such a big man with a tiny knife but then if you’re that big, you don’t really need a large weapon do you? He made Mr. Dundee seem like he was overcompensating.

  I stared at the blood welling up from his thumb and didn't have a clue on how to proceed. I had the weirdest feeling he was offering me an extreme compliment and I probably shouldn't insult him by refusing, but what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t remember coming across this in Ku’s book. Did he want me to cut my thumb and press it to his or what? Was I going to be blood brothers, er... blood siblings, with a god? The confusion must have showed on my face because he smiled and he was suddenly all deity. He looked at me as if he was bestowing a divine blessing and I had to shake off the sudden urge to kneel.

  “Will you accept my protection?” He lifted his hand and it hovered over my lips, the bead of blood seemed to shimmer as it welled up.

  Oh shit. Was he going to put his blood on my mouth? Gross. I couldn’t even bring myself to say yes, I just nodded and he instantly lowered his bloody thumb. I blinked as the shock-waves coursed through me. Tingling, biting power ran inside me like needle-legged spiders as I felt his blood melt into my skin. I absorbed it and knew immediately that his offer of protection was eternal. I was under Thor's protection. Me, the so-called Godhunter.

  “Why did you do that?” I rubbed at my lips and stared at the vanishing cut on his thumb, his body just kinda sucked the blood back in.

  “We need you with us,” he slammed back another shot and his hand shook for just a second as he put the glass down. “We can’t fight both you and them. Now, do you accompany me to my boat or not?”

  Chapter Three

  I don’t mind boats. As long as they stayed afloat and kept me out of the water. It was the ocean I had a problem with. I blame my paranoia on my mother. She'd been a young woman when she had me and instead of staying home wasting her youth, she took me out with her. I loved my childhood and will physically assault anyone who dares to say my mother was a bad parent but sometimes it's not the best idea to cart the kid along.

  One of those outings had been to a yacht party. I don’t remember much about the festivities but I remember the boat. When, as an adult, I’d mentioned the memory to her, she had nervously asked what else I remembered. I pressed her to elaborate. She said there was a small space of time when I’d gone missing and they had finally found me overboard. I was three. She sees no connection to my fear of the ocean.

  To be completely honest, I must admit that Jaws played a small part in my terror of the deep blue as well and an even bigger role in me not taking up surfing (I do not like feeling like bait, thank you very much) but I had no thoughts of killer sharks when I boarded Thor’s f
loating behemoth. I didn’t think about the water at all actually since the boat… ship… whatever, was so big, I forgot the ocean was even there. No small feat when dealing with me.

  Thor had held my hand to bring me across the gangplank and hadn’t released it since. He pulled me casually through the interior of the thing, passing room after room of shining mahogany paneling and gleaming steel. I caught glimpses of plush carpeting in dark blue and matching curtains fluttering in the warm salty breeze. The boat must have been specially made for him because even with his bulk, he didn’t look cramped at all. In fact, we were walking down the corridor side by side and his head didn't even come close to brushing the ceiling.

  We stopped at a stairway and went down into the belly of the beast. Maybe not the best description under the circumstances but it fit. At the bottom of the stairs was a large open room. The carpeting down there was red, the massive center table black lacquer, and all the décor had an Asian feel. Not what I expected from a Norse god. Shouldn’t there be coarse wooden tables and battle axes? Maybe a buxom wench with blonde braids named Brunhilde?

  Instead of axes there were swords. Katanas and the shorter wakizashis were protected in shiny black lacquered sheaths and displayed proudly on the walls. There was also a brilliant white wedding kimono dominating the wall opposite us, with hand embroidered gold cranes all over it. The walls themselves were covered in soft gold wallpaper with more cranes flying across the expanse, so subtly done that you had to concentrate to see them. On my right was a suit of Samurai armor, complete with a red demon face mask. I swear it was smiling at me and not in a good way, more of a It''ll be fun to eviscerate you sort of way. I ignored it on principal.

  In the center of the table, a delicate white orchid bloomed in a shiny black pot, colored subtly by light shining through the red and gold lacquered paper parasols above it. The parasol lights gave a pink tint to the room, like the boat was blushing in the face of unexpected company. It shouldn't have worried though, the place was immaculate. Any conquering warlord would have happily dripped blood onto the conveniently colored carpet before shucking off his armor and calling for a geisha. I know, that was terribly white of me but I’m only a quarter Japanese and I’ve never even been to Japan, so you’re gonna have to forgive me my clichés. Plus, I think it’s an apt description. The room was fiercely beautiful but even with the kimono and orchid, it was supremely masculine.