Page 8 of The Blood of Gods and Monsters

“I don’t understand,” I say when he doesn’t elaborate. “The Gods are?—”

“Liars,” he says, cutting me off. “They—we—always have been. What else did the book tell you?”

“It said that the Gods came from a mountain of brimstone—I think it meant the original Mortal Gods Academy. The first one.”

All those years ago, my father and I had traveled to Ortus, and from the seaside cliffs, I’d seen the great beast that was the very first Mortal Gods Academy. It had jutted up from a small island set in the crashing waves of the water, a dark crown of jagged black rock. It had been an intimidating thing, a monstrous creature of ancient stories. Sunlight had glittered off the black stone, shining back at where my father and I had stood on the shore, a beacon of warning.

“That’s correct,” Caedmon states, drawing me back to the present and away from my memories of the place in question.

I shake my head. “That still doesn’t explain why you did what you did,” I say, confused.

Caedmon inhales and releases his breath, the wide chest beneath his dark tunic expanding and deflating with the action. “What am I called, Kiera?” he asks instead of answering my unspoken demand.

I blink. “The God of…” Prophecy, I finish silently as my words trail off. “You … had a prophecy then? But you just said that the Gods aren’t?—”

Full, masculine lips turn into a deep frown. “What makes a God?” Caedmon asks. “Is it the ability to control the weather? To alter time and space? No. A God is simply a being of worship that maintains total authority over life and creation. When the Gods as you know them came to this world that is what they wanted to become so that is what they became.”

“I still don’t understand.” Why is he talking in circles? Why can’t he just come out and say what he means? What is the point?

As if he feels the same, Ruen steps up to the side of my seat and frowns down at Caedmon. “You’re saying that the Gods are not actual Gods at all?” he demands in that gruff baritone of his. Behind him, Theos and Kalix remain silent.

Caedmon shifts his gaze up to Ruen’s. “What you know as Divinity is simply magic, Ruen,” Caedmon says. “It is something we brought with us from our world and when we came to this place and found it devoid of magic, our ruler decided that we would become Gods in this new world.”

“Your ruler … Tryphone?” Ruen asks.

Caedmon nods. “Yes.”

“But what about your prophecy?” I demand. “You still haven’t explained why you brought me here, why you contracted the Underworld for my services if you never meant to use them.”

“Oftentimes, my visions do not come clearly. They show me moments in the future that are murky—unsure as to whether they will happen or not. Then there are other times where my visions are so clear there can be no doubt as to whether or not they will come to pass. My ability is powerful, but it is not all seeing as one might think. I see all that will happen, but the choices made between when I see the future and when the future becomes the present may threaten to change the outcome.”

I wait and this time, Caedmon doesn’t stop.

“Twenty years ago, I had a vision such as that. A prophecy that is set within the fabric of time. They are rare visions, ones that cannot be changed and from what I have experienced, they only ever happen when the balance of the world has been altered too far. I fear that my people—Gods to this world—have taken their greed too far.”

My gaze skitters to Ophelia, now holding her empty glass as she watches Caedmon with a cold look that tells me nothing of her inner thoughts. I frown as I notice the strings of silver in her naturally dark hair have grown wider since the last time I saw her. The lines around her lips and at the edges of her eyes are deeper too. It hasn’t been that long … has it?

“What does your prophecy have to do with Kiera?” Ruen’s voice drags my focus back to the conversation before me. “Answer her question—why did you bring her here?”

A beat of silence passes through the room. My muscles tense as Caedmon and Ruen stare at each other, then Caedmon’s lips part and he speaks.

“Because she’s the answer to all of our salvation.”

Chapter 5

Ruen

Salvation. The last word that leaves Caedmon’s mouth is the spark that lights the room aflame with activity. Theos stomps forward, the sound of his boots pounding against the dust laden floorboards.

“What the fuck does that mean?” he demands, sliding up to Kiera’s other side as he stands above the God of Prophecy. His eyes are glittering, the gold flaring brighter before darkening. Black spreads out from his pupil, consuming all but a thin ring of the burnt amber at the edges of his irises.

Kiera remains silent, her brow puckered in confusion. A look at her face tells me she’s as much in the dark about the meaning behind Caedmon’s words as the rest of us.

Caedmon doesn’t spare Theos a glance even though my brother is radiating aggressive energy. He merely continues to look at me as if waiting for something.

“Explain,” I finally say. “No more stories, Caedmon. No more metaphors or talk of books. Tell us the prophecy you wish to see through and what it means for Kiera.”

The edges of his eyes crinkle a little and his lips twitch as if he’s amused. I bury my irritation at his expression. I fail to see the humor in our situation and already I am repressing my desire to rip into the woman at his side—the woman that had placed the brimstone in Kiera’s neck as a way to control her. Before this night is through, I intend to have her remove it, and if she refuses … well, Kalix isn’t the only Darkhaven capable of murder, and Kiera’s blood contract with the woman will be null and void if the woman known as Ophelia is dead.

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