Gods: (A Dark God Romance) (Gods and Monsters Book 5) Read online

  “Glad to see you made it,” he said stiffly.

  With a curt glance over my shoulder, he spotted Adrik behind me, unsure of himself. “You did well.”

  Three simple words from Damianos was all it took for Adrik to let out a breath he’d been holding. His shoulders slumped like heavy sacks of crabs and mussels dropping to the floor. I threw him a disgusted look before I turned back on Damianos.

  “What took you so long?” I hissed, blocking his way into the room. My grip on the door tightened. “We got here hours ago, waiting for you.”

  “I hope you used the time wisely,” he said, his face darkening. “We leave once the carriage arrives. Our ship sails in an hour.”

  My face twisted into something sour. I peeled back from the door, then turned my back on him. He stepped inside, all inky shadows and piercing blue eyes.

  “I was almost caught,” I told him matter-of-factly, and I rummaged through the sack propped up on the over-worn armchair. Adrik pulled on his boots by the door, his watchful gaze on Damianos as he advanced on me silently.

  “Felicks came into the baths.” I yanked out a pale blue coat from the sack, then flapped it until its creases vanished.

  Damianos ran his knuckles down my cheek, his gaze searching for injuries. “Are you all right?”

  I smirked at him. “Felicks isn’t.”

  His smile was as wicked as mine and it tickled my stomach with those damned moths. I couldn’t shake it. The feeling of giddy comfort he brought to me whenever he was around.

  I hoped that soon, the excitement he flooded me with would vanish, the way my feelings for the Prince did. Emotions weren’t my thing—well, the kind that shaped eyes into love-hearts, and turned everyone into stupid puppets. I loved my mother, and she died. I loved my brother, and he feared me. I loved Ava, and she betrayed me.

  Love was for fools.

  It was a new rule. No love, no pain.

  I peeled away from his touch and threw on the coat. Its silk melded to my body like a second skin, and I drew the hood over my head.

  With a flick of the hand, Damianos silently ordered Adrik to fetch my sack. Not that he needed to order him about. Adrik had carried it all the way from the spot in Forgotten Square where we’d left behind the horses.

  Adrik’s shoulders seemed wider with the sack thrown over one, and his neck shrunk to a bulbous muscle that I swore would turn purple any minute.

  Damianos placed his hand on the small of my back. My tummy flipped. With Adrik swaggering behind us like some sort of all-white peacock, Damianos led me out of the stew-smelling house and back into the shadowy lanes in the Capital’s dirty secret. My kind of secret.

  Outside, a breath of the night cascaded down my back. Caramel swept up my nostrils, now tainted by the wretched burn of overcooked stew. I itched to run after the sweet scent and find its source.

  Sometimes on Zwayk, sailors would bring caramel coated corns and berries. I didn’t always have enough coin to trade with. Ava would make sure we got some of the treats. My heart twisted in my chest.

  Have to throw her out of mind.

  But with our whole lives spent on each other’s toes, it was proving difficult to forget about her longer than a few minutes at time. Always, that dreaded punch of sorrow socked me square in the chest. A blow I couldn’t outrun.

  At the mouth of the lane, a black carriage waited.

  Its coachman wore faded black gear to match the greying hues of his carriage. Even the horses were going grey. Looked like a skeleton of what was once a carriage.

  My mouth turned down at the corners as the coachmen leaped to the ground, then pulled open the door for us. No caramel sweets, I guessed.

  Mind, I wasn’t fool enough to risk getting caught for some sweets. Time at the palace had spoiled my appetite. I could fantasise all about sugary treats as much as I liked. That was about as far as it would go.

  Life on the run was no sugar treat.

  And that’s what my life had become.

  Damianos guided me into the carriage first, then followed swiftly. Adrik even joined us in the crammed box, dropping my sack to the floor, and wedging himself between me and the other window.

  I nearly folded in on myself to make room for a burly aniel, a bulging pillowcase, and Damianos who spread out with leisure.

  Shrouded in darkness, the carriage moved with the shadows of the night.

  4

  I peeked out through the faded curtain as the horses took the old, beat-up carriage down bumpy cobblestone streets.

  My head whacked off the window a few times. Still, I kept my gaze on the outside—the early licks of dawn creeping along the roads, stretching up the faded coloured buildings. Red walls had turned to dark pinks, purples to blues, whites to creams.

  Still, every building in the Lost Square was beautiful to me.

  On Zwayk, we only had salt-eaten cabins and a balneum built with rotten wood. On the bone-white hill, the stardust walls had been my prison.

  Now, the colourful buildings that rolled through the streets like marbles, meant my freedom—and it was a warm feeling.

  As the carriage barrelled through the streets to brighter-coloured shop faces and lampposts that seemed to glitter with favour, I caught glimpses of the bone-white hill high up on the horizon. Dawn had kissed the tip of the stardust palace before stretching down to the lesser.

  It looked magical from down here in the Capital streets. It looked nothing like a prison or place of monsters. Much like the Prince—alluring and beautiful, but ugly inside.

  “Do you think he knows yet?” I asked, drawing the curtain back in place. Now that we entered the bright part of the Capital, more people were bustling about in the morning. I couldn’t risk being seen.

  I slumped back on the bench and looked at Damianos. He was already watching me, a mild and secretive curiosity simmering in his pale blue eyes.

  “He will know,” was all he said.

  Adrik added, “I bought us extra time. Tied up your maid in her room. If Felicks hasn’t been found yet, we’re safe for now.”

  My mouth flattened into a thin line.

  Poor Nalla. It would have been quite the fright to have Adrik tie her up in the middle of the night.

  “I guess they don’t know I’m gone yet,” I spoke almost sadly. “I didn’t see any guards through the window.”

  And for me, wouldn’t they be swarming the corners of Scocie? There should have been a guard at every shop window, every lamppost, stopping every carriage to find me.

  “The Prince will want to keep your disappearance private,” said Damianos, his eyes unreadable through the shadows of the carriage. “Too many chances he can’t take.”

  “Chances?” I shot him a puzzled look.

  Adrik was the one to explain. “A lot of Gods up there want you dead. You scare them, the way Syfon did. The way Phantom does—” He bowed his head at Damianos as the title left his cracked lips. “—and a lot of aniels want you for their own gain. Prince Poison won’t risk you falling into the wrong hands.”

  “I already have.” My smirk was small as I looked at Damianos.

  In answer, he winked and it tickled my tummy.

  I turned back to Adrik. “What do aniels want with me?”

  He studied me a beat.

  Adrik might have gotten me out of the palace, but there was no kindness in him. Everything he did, he did for his own gain. His shaven face might have rid him of scraggly hair that made him look like a brute, but all it did was reveal the mean scars on his chin that twisted the skin like toffee left to melt in the sun.

  “You can drain,” he said as if the answer was obvious. At my blank stare, he sighed. “Not all aniels want to live forever. Some love mortals—and want to live with them, grow old and all that rubbish.”

  “I can do that?” I swerved my startled stare to Damianos, sitting opposite me. “I can make an immortal … mortal?”

  Damianos’s face was gathering shadows. “You can do more than you think
,” he told me, a glint of pride in his voice. “Prince Poison taught you to strengthen one ability to keep your focus distracted.”

  “Because he wanted to touch me,” I argued.

  “Yes. But also to distract you, keep your mind off other powers you may have. He taught you restraint. I will teach you supremacy.”

  I slumped in the seat. “As great as that sounds, I’ve had enough lessons to last me an eternity.”

  “You do not know what an eternity is, Valissa.” Damianos wore sapphires for eyes. “You will one day, once you watch all mortals in your life fall away to death’s call. When you watch cities fall and rebuild, Gods battle, isles grow. Then, and only then, will you understand the true meaning of eternity.”

  The longer I stared into his deep ocean-blue eyes, the more they looked like hollow pits.

  Adrik had gone silent beside me, and I started to forget he was even there. The chasms of Damianos’ eyes had me hooked, and I was in danger of falling into the abyss.

  I wanted to reach out for him, take his hand in mine. There was something in the way he looked at me that gutted my insides with sorrow. Not because I pitied him, but because even in my short life, I understood.

  He’s lonely.

  As I have always been.

  The moment shattered when Damianos peeled back the corner of the curtain and glanced outside. Bright morning light illuminated the dust in the carriage.

  He let the curtain go, and it fell back into place.

  “If he doesn’t know already, he will now.” It took me a moment to realise he was talking about the Prince. “So we will be quick to board the ship. Valissa, keep your hood drawn. The Prince could have any number of his aniels at the docks, searching for you.”

  I nodded and pulled my hood so far down my face that only my mouth and chin could be seen. I loved the gauzy feel of this blue-silk cloak. I could see through the fabric to the faint silhouettes around me, but my face stayed hidden.

  The carriage rolled to a stop and, as the coachman pulled open the creaky door, my insides flipped with nostalgia. Salt-water swept all around me in the air.

  I took in a breath so deep, my lungs rattled, and let the salty flavour fill me.

  Never did I think I would miss home.

  But here I am, tears burning my eyes at just the smell of salt-water. Moron.

  A memory with Ava on Zwayk struck me like a slap to the face. I shook it off and jumped out of the carriage.

  Fuck Ava.

  5

  Damianos took my hand in his. My muscles jolted in my skin.

  “Keep your head down,” he said. “Blend in.”

  I looked up at him as he led me down the slope to the harbour.

  All around, families and married couples (newlyweds, I guessed) rushed around the harbour. Some were boarding last calls to the ships far out on the harbour, but most were climbing out of small boats that brought them back to land.

  A fisher boat was being loaded with bait down by the cliffs edge, where there stood an old rickety boardwalk that looked about ready to crumble.

  We were headed to that dock. At the far end of it, a weak wooden boat was tied to a post and swayed with the ripples.

  A young boy sat in the boat, and as we made our way along the boardwalk I realised how young he was. No older than ten.

  My startled look was hidden behind the hood as he sat up straight, watching us with squinting eyes.

  Adrik overtook us, my sack in one hand, his bag in the other. He dumped the luggage into the boat, then paid the boy one of those paper notes that were more valuable than a hundred silver coins.

  The boy’s face darkened as he nodded his head and pocketed the note.

  “All aboard?” The boy shouted once we were all tucked into the tight space. I was an inch away from sitting on Damianos.

  The boy didn’t wait for our answer before he unhooked the rope from the post and pushed us further out to water. The current did most of the work.

  Still, the boy rowed and rowed until sweat marks sullied the back of his blouse and we came to a swaying stop by a pirate ship just around the cliffs edge. It was carefully anchored around the corner of land, hidden from the view from shore.

  From the side of the ship, a rope ladder unravelled and hit the small boat we sat in. As I looked up at the black vessel, an ominous churn took my stomach.

  A pirate ship if I ever saw one.

  Adrik was the first up. Once he was safely over the edge, Damianos gestured for me to climb the ladder.

  I chewed my lip and, nervously, gripped onto the rope with clammy hands and heaved myself up. My legs jittered the higher I climbed.

  Don’t look down.

  Don’t look down.

  I wasn’t afraid of heights. I was afraid of falling, and what lurked beneath the sea.

  My heart was beating, not fast, hard. Steady, pounding thumps against my breasts.

  Finally, I reached the top, my limbs still feeling like spoiled milk, just lumps holding me together.

  Adrik heaved me onto the deck, none too kindly. I staggered on wobbly legs, waiting for the fear in my nerves to dissipate.

  Holding onto the wooden rails, I steadied myself and, as Damianos jumped over in a blur of black and secrets, slowed my breaths. The sway of the ship wasn’t helping the dizzy sensations creeping over me.

  The young boy was on the deck within heartbeats, and I heard a shout from up at the wheel. I turned and slumped against the rails, watching pirates—all dirty and scruffy, none at all like the dangerously attractive ones who visited Zwayk—rush about to their duties.

  “Where are we going?” My voice was rougher than some of the mean-looking pirates mopping the wooden floors.

  Damianos brushed at wet drops of seawater on his sleeves. “Someplace safe,” he said.

  I shot him a tired look.

  Everything had to be cryptic with the Gods.

  I wondered if it was a power or curse they had, to just never be able to speak the plain old truth. Always, everything they said had to be cloaked in mystery.

  Mind, he probably didn’t want to say where we were headed in front of all these pirates. They might be taking us from Scocie, but not to our end destination. And that thought only tickled my curiosity more.

  The ship’s sails were up, catching the wind, before I even caught my shaky breaths from the climb.

  We were on our way.

  I turned to grip onto the rails and look out at Scocie.

  The Capital gleamed bright under the morning sun, like marbles left out in the light, and the bone-white hill looked smoother than butter from this distance.

  I remembered my first time seeing Scocie from this far.

  My stomach dropped. Not because I realised we would row in a small, damp boat from the ship when it anchored, but because I saw it—

  The Capital. Bright and colourful.

  Every sloped and bloated house was painted a different colour to match the colours that represent the Gods. Some seemed to glitter like face paint at dusk. Cobblestone streets wound all around the hilly city, and there wasn’t a marketplace in sight.

  Gaze dropped to the rail, I stared at my hand—and just how empty they were without Ava’s to hold onto.

  She should have been here with me. We started this journey together, we should have ended it together, wherever it took us. She betrayed me, yes, but did that mean I should have left her behind? At the time—and still—I was hurt. As always hurt turned sour, into a bitter, poisonous anger.

  I’m too vengeful.

  I’m too wretched.

  I left her behind when I should have knocked out Jasper and dragged her with me to the baths. Instead, I left her behind to suffer an agonising end at the hands of the Prince.

  Damianos came up behind me. I could feel the sense of home radiating from his chest to my back, warming me like a morning sunrise to ice.

  I was melting. Well, weeping, but close enough.

  “I left her.” My voice was small, s
lick with the tears that rolled down my cheeks. “I left her behind.”

  I watched the blur of Scocie’s beauty slip away to shadows. The ship moved fast.

  Damianos ran his fingertips down the shape of my waist. It tickled, comforting, and I shut my eyes on the brewing tears.

  “Jasper will bring her to you.”

  My eyes snapped open.

  Staring ahead at the silhouettes of a brilliant city and mountains whose downhill streams gleamed bright blue, I felt my heart stop in my chest.

  Silence clung to my every muscle.

  “I hope you understand why I could not tell you about Jasper,” he said softly, words murmuring into my free-falling hair. The cloak had slipped back from the breeze. “His loyalty belongs to me.”

  Slowly, I turned to face him, a hard look on my face, ready to shatter as if made of porcelain. “What?”

  Damianos was standing in front of me, a tint of sorrow to his blue eyes. He threw a look back at the land before settling his gaze on me. It wasn’t good news I saw in the blue flecks in his irises.

  “When he first discovered you, Jasper meant to bring you to me.”

  I shook my head. “No,” I said. “No, he was taking me to the Prince. He told me—”

  “What did he tell you? That he only changed course for Scocie when the Prince’s second vessel joined their voyage?”

  Pity lowered his eyes to the tears caught on my jaw. He wiped them away with a long, drawn-out caress.

  “Jasper and Adrik were under orders to seize you from the beginning,” he said. “I knew there was a syfoner on that isle. I just didn’t know who it was, until you revealed yourself in front of my crows.”

  I remembered them that night, flying above Jasper and me. The starbursts had spooked them away, but clearly not far enough.

  “Jasper seized you, and you were to be brought to me.” A bitter look twisted his face. “His loyalty to Prince Poison expired on the anniversary of my banishment. You see, when a God victors over another, they inherit. The Prince inherited Jasper when I was banished from the palace two centuries ago, and he inherited Adrik when he killed his maker, my mother. All that has to pass is one century for the bindings to be severed.”