Damaged Gods by K.C. Cross, J.A. Huss

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - PELL

I wait until she’s all the way down the stairs, then start cleaning up the apothecary. I don’t use this stuff, but I like things in their place. There is no possible way I can walk out and leave it looking like this. The apothecary is essential for what we do here. Which is curse-breaking. She needs to be mindful of our goals. If she ever leaves this place a mess like this again, I’ll put it on her debt so she will think about her work flow.

Also, I need the distraction. This date is just pissing me off to no end.

Another eros. Living in the nearby town.

What are the chances of that?

And if there is one, there are more. An entire bloodline just miles down the road. How did I not know this? The only explanation is that they don’t know what they are. This bloodline is some deeply hidden family secret. Because if the sheriff is an eros, and he had any inclination of what Saint Mark’s was, then he would not have driven away with Pie. He would’ve come inside. He would’ve started a war.

One eros inside Saint Mark’s is a caretaker.

Two is an invasion as far as I’m concerned.

They would’ve started a war. Because Pie is eros blood too.

Isn’t she?

The eros belong to Saturn. Did belong to Saturn. Because Saturn is gone now. All the old gods are. And all their creations—all their monsters—were cursed.

Except for the fucking family of eros living down the road, apparently.

I’m not sure if this is a good thing or bad thing. On the one hand, the eros have broken their curse. That’s… hopeful. For me, at least. But if they no longer even remember that they were cursed, let alone the power of the gods that they possess, then this curse-breaking happened a long, long time ago.

What have they been doing all this time?

And more importantly, did Grant know?

Eros are seductive. They emit pheromones that affect you in certain ways. They make you swoon with longing. Sometimes that longing is sexual. Sometimes it’s a craving for a shared adventure. And sometimes it’s just an overpowering compulsion to be near them. Forever. They cannot be out of your sight.

And every single eros caretaker who came into my sanctuary affected me in one of these three ways. At least for a while. I’ve had my share of swooning moments over the years. It can’t be helped. But it’s more of a casual swoon than a deep desire. It takes a while to wear off, but eventually, it does wear off.

Obviously the eros don’t affect each other this way or they would be useless. Just a bunch of frolicking fools with no other ambition but to follow each other around.

So maybe Grant didn’t know about the sheriff?

This leads me down another rabbit hole. The main tunnel, if you will.

Because everything about this new Pie phase in the curse is different. And I’m not talking different than the last fifty years, I’m talking different than the last two thousand. Aside from the sudden disappearance of Grant and the untimely appearance of an entire family of eros living in the closest town, never once in the history of Saint Mark’s has a slave caretaker asked to get a job before.

Like… what the actual fuck is up with that?

And it’s not even like I can complain about it, because she’s trying to keep her debt down. Objecting just makes me look like a dick.

And none of them have ever dated before. At least, if they did, I didn’t know about it. They were here for me. To pleasure me. That was their curse.

This one, she just throws it in my face. I’m dating the sheriff.

And she’s the only one who ever showed up knowing no magic at all. All the other slave caretakers knew they were different. But Pie? No. She has a magic bird and she calls it her “personal hallucination”.

This actually makes me smile as I gather up all the spilled herbs and put them back in their place on the shelf.

She’s not boring, I will give her that.

And she has lit a fire inside Tomas.

Literally. Since he’s locked himself in the dungeon.

I really need to keep an eye on him. He’s always been dangerous, but dangerous in the way that we all are. I didn’t see much when I was down there today, but I don’t need to see things to understand that it’s not going well for Tomas at the moment.

And who knows? Maybe this is normal? I haven’t paid attention to the guy in a century, at least. Grant and I weren’t even on speaking terms when he made his escape so he wasn’t filling me in on Tomas’s current mental state. But I never noticed anything off about Tomas when I saw him around the grounds.

Hmm. I pause here. Because Grant was a talented alchemist. Was he helping Tomas all this time? And now that he’s gone, will Tomas struggle to maintain control? I want to say that is unlikely. Tomas liked Grant—Tomas likes everyone. But Grant didn’t like him. No one likes Tomas back. His relationships are all very one-sided.

For good reason.

I will need to talk to Pie about this and tell her to stay away from Tomas.

She’s not gonna take it well, and I don’t blame her. She makes two friends—two men—and I’ve suddenly got a problem with both of them. If I were her, I’d think I was a jealous jerk. She will never believe me. This has always been my problem with humans. They never want to take anyone’s word. They always have to see it for themselves. Always have to take the hard road. Always have to take the long way home.

And in the end, they have to admit that they should’ve listened.

Part of me wonders if maybe I should just butt out and leave the girl alone. What do I care if she gets involved with the local eros? It’s not like she can run off with him. Her curse will only allow her to stay gone for so long. Then she will be sucked back in. She is mine as long as she is cursed and she’s cursed as long as she wears the sanctuary ring.

And that ring will not come off her finger until someone of her bloodline shows up to take her place.

She didn’t say this earlier, but I know she’s holding out hope that the sheriff is her replacement.

His eros blood was enough to open the walking gate for an approaching Pie. That makes sense because Saturn is the one who turned the eros into his personal sanctuary keepers as Ostanes banished the gods. He sent them in here to get Ostanes’s book. But Pie was the one who saw the flyer. She was the one who released Grant.

The sheriff of Granite Springs has been living in the closest town his entire life—if he was meant to be caretaker, wouldn’t he have shown up at some point? Wouldn’t he have seen that flyer first?

This is my main issue with the sheriff.

I think back, trying to recall everything I know about how we all ended up here in Saint Mark’s Sanctuary.

It was a war, of course. It’s always a war.

The God War that took place two thousand years ago happened for two reasons.

One. The alchemist Ostanes was making chimera for the gods, Saturn and Juno. Monsters. Like me. Like Tarq. Like Tomas. You take the blood of a pure monster—like the wood nymph, or the minotaur, or the satyr—and you mix it up to create a chimera.

But something went wrong. Overbreeding? Bad crossings? I don’t know. I was a kid when that started happening. All I know is that with the exception of the eros, who had made an alliance with Saturn and were never used in the breeding program, all the pure monsters died out and only the chimera remained.

The second reason there needed to be a God War was because Juno and Saturn decided they were done with each other. And it was a messy breakup. As most breakups are. But when the two most powerful gods in all creation divorce, it takes on a whole other level of bad.

Ostanes worked for both of them. She could no more deny one request for more and more elaborate chimera breeding than she could the other. This is how the monsters got out of control.

This sanctuary was the last step in that war.

Ostanes had a very, very powerful spellbook. Both Saturn and Juno wanted this book so they could continue their monster breeding programs and be the most important god standing at the end of the separation. So there were desperate attempts to steal it.

Maybe Ostanes was prideful? Maybe creating the sanctuary and hiding her spells in here was just ego? That’s entirely possible. If she didn’t enjoy her power, she would not have been powerful. This is how power works. Only those who covet power get power.

But it’s just as likely that the spells in that book simply do not belong in the hands of damaged gods.

At any rate, once the sanctuary was created Ostanes created tombs and locked all her chimera—except for me—inside them. She gave the book to the most formidable monster, Tarq.

Juno and Saturn responded with a fast and furious flurry of counterspells:

Saturn gave the eros the ability to enter the sanctuary as caretakers.

Juno countered by restricting the ability to enter the tombs to just one monster. Me, as it happens.

Saturn volleyed back and made the tomb doors invisible to me and only seen by the caretaker.

Juno returned fire and cursed the caretakers with the Book of Debt.

And… well, that’s where I lost track of the story because I was already inside Saint Mark’s.

Tomas was always here. I don’t really know much of his story at all. And I certainly have no clue how he fits into the curse.

Or myself, actually.

I’m not here to guard the spellbook—that task was given to Tarq. And I don’t have any useful powers. Slamming doors? Freezing people in place? A tiny breath of entitlement? It’s all very stupid.

Well. There is that other power. Which I’m going to assume is some kind of desperate last-resort power. Because if I use it, Saturn wins.

And maybe it’s not my place to choose who gets to be God, but as long as I have a say, it’s not going to be him.

So. I dunno. I think I’m just a leftover from a long-ago age. I hadn’t even been put to use before the God War. I was nothing more than a young chimera waiting for his purpose in the woods when this shitshow happened.

I am an unfinished project.

The only thing I’ve been focused on for the past two thousand years is how to get out of my curse.

And the only thing the caretakers have been focused on is how to get out of their curse.

And pleasing me. Because, for whatever reason, this is part of the deal. Maybe it’s payment for my services?

But the caretakers have never really pleased me. All those tasks in the Book of Debt are intimate. Never mind the sexual things—which none of them ever did. The feet washing, the horn polishing, the bathing… it’s all very personal. I never wanted any of them touching me.

Until now.

Until Pie.

Maybe I don’t want her to stay forever, but it would be nice if I had a chance to get to know her without the interference of that stupid eros sheriff.

She’s not going to like him.

She better not like him.

I’m not OK with this date.

By the time I’m done tidying up the apothecary it’s evening. And even though I do not want to walk down to Pie’s cottage and see her off on her date, I can’t help myself.

I can hear her music when I cross over the top of the hill. It’s blaring up from the house even though all the windows are closed. I knock, but she doesn’t hear it. Inside, her music is deafening.

“Pie?” I call up the stairs. The upstairs of the cottage is really more of a loft. There are walls, but not four of them. There’s a half-wall on one side and even from the bottom of the steps, I can see right into her bedroom. The top of the canopy, the valance of one window, the pale plaster of the far wall.

But no Pie.

“Pie?” I call again. Louder.

Nothing.

I go up. It’s my duty. She could’ve slipped in the bathroom. She could be passed out right now.

Who am I kidding? I want to see her naked.

This actually makes me smirk. She’s seen me naked. Fair is fair.

But when I get up there, she’s not naked. She’s dancing in the bathroom, twirling her hair around a hot iron as she sings to herself in the mirror.

This is a unique opportunity to watch her and I like what I see. She’s cleaned up, all traces of potions gone wrong wiped away. Her long blonde hair is shiny and straight, except for the parts she’s already curled. And she’s wearing makeup. Not a lot, but her eyes are dark enough to make her look different. Less innocent. More… worldly. Maybe even magical and bad.

Well, she is one of Saturn’s creatures, after all. That’s how she got in here. An eros is always alluring.

But I’m not swooning over her. I’m not losing my mind with lust. So she’s not like any other eros in the history of Saint Mark’s. Because every time a new caretaker shows up, my stupid ass swoons all over the place. Sometimes I have to lock myself in my tomb until the magic settles.

Pie didn’t evoke any of these urges when she showed up.

I was angry that night.

Pie is not dressed trashy, like the way she was when she arrived. But the cute velour pants and white t-shirt are not present either.

She is… sexy.

That’s the only word for it.

Especially when she wiggles her ass as she does her little dance in front of the mirror.

She’s wearing a very short black dress balanced out with opaque black tights. The dress has long sleeves that end in a bell shape at her wrists. The whole thing is very alluring, but at the same time, she is showing almost no skin.

Her eyes meet mine in the mirror and then she’s whirling around. “Holy shit! Pell! What the fuck!”

Oops.

“Why are you here?” She walks over to her pocket phone, clicks the music off, and glares at me. “Well, what do you want?”

“I just…” But there is no good reason to be here. “I just wanted to tell you to be careful one more time.”

She walks forward, places one hand on my chest, and pushes me backwards. “I get it. Now leave. I don’t need a big brother watching me get ready for a date.”

“Big brother?” I scowl at her. “And what the actual fuck yourself? You’re not gonna let him down easy. You’re going to date him for real.”

She points her hot iron at me. “Get out.”

“You like him, don’t you?”

“He put a spell on me. Of course I like him.”

“Speaking of,” I snarl. “Where’s your fucking amulet?”

She grabs at the counter behind her. Holds up the lavender leather pouch. “Right here.”

“You’re supposed to have it on. Never take it off.”

She slips it over her head. “There. Satisfied?”

And… no. I’m not. I want to forbid her from going out. I want to lock her in this cottage. I want her to stay here, with me, and only think about me.

And in a few minutes, she will walk out of here. And maybe she thinks about me on that drive into town, but the moment the sheriff shows up, her mind will be wiped. She will swoon over him.

This is my last chance to stop it. Not by forbidding her from going, either. That will just make her like him more. I take four steps and close the distance between us. She looks startled for a moment and takes a step back. But there’s nowhere to go in this little bathroom. She’s trapped.

“What are you doing?”

I reach for the string of the amulet and then tug on the top of her dress to open it up. I dangle the amulet pouch over her cleavage—our eyes locked on each other—and then I drop it down inside.

She lets out a breath. “O-kaaay. What’s this about?”

I don’t take my eyes off her. But my hand comes up and my knuckles gently swipe down the side of her cheek. “You will be careful tonight.”

She tries to swipe my hand away, but I grab her wrist.

“Do you hear me, Pie?”

“Yeah. I hear you. I said I would.”

“You’re not taking this seriously. You’re up here, dancing around, doing your hair, putting on makeup like this is going to be fun.”

“It could be fun.”

I stare at her for a long moment, nodding. “It could. But it’s unlikely, Pie.” My hand slips down and I place my palm on the side of her neck, my thumb caressing the little dent of her throat. Then I slide my fingers around the back of her neck and squeeze just a little. She gasps. Her eyes are locked on mine. Like she’s powerless. Like she’s caught. And she is. The satyr blood coursing through my veins might not be good for much, but it is good for this. I can hold them captive with my sexuality. And I do that now.

I feel myself starting to become excited, so I close my eyes and will that desire back into submission, then open them again, completely in control when I lean down and touch my lips to hers. I do not kiss her. One breath. That’s what we exchange. One breath of my essence slips into her mouth and she swallows. I feel the muscles of her throat move when she consumes my claim.

Then I pull back, release my hand, and back out of her room, only turning around once I reach the stairs. I go down, leave the cottage, and walk up the hill where I sit on the ruin of a stone tomb and watch as she leaves her cottage, walks through the gate, and goes into town for her date.

Then I walk back to her cottage and wait for her to come home.

Because I am going to make her tell me everything.