Page 27 of Between Bloode and Death (Between the Shadows #5)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

“Well, that was entertaining. Not that I wasn’t expecting fireworks, but just…wow.”

Val sat up, clutching dark bedsheets around her breasts while next to her, Khent slowly opened his eyes.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his voice like ice.

A little hurt because he’d been right there with her when they’d had the most explosive sex of her life, she scowled. “Because I owed you, remember?”

He blinked at her. “No. I know why you’re here.” He drew her down into his arms and tucked her against him, looking down at her before nodding above her. “I meant him.”

Val slowly turned over and faced the handsome male she’d seen once before. “Morpheus?” she squeaked. “What are you…” So disappointed she wanted to cry, she did her best not to show her distress. “It was all a dream.”

Of course it had to be. Sex with Khent could never be that perfect or beautiful. Sexual, hot, dirty, and so pleasurable she’d passed out there at the end? Val had never in her life had multiple orgasms.

“Oh, well, this is the dream. Maybe. But before, with all the moaning and fluid sharing? That was pretty real.” Morpheus winked. “Nice work, reaper.”

Khent sniffed. “Get out.”

“Now hold on.”

Val didn’t know what to think. Was it a good thing that Khent had ruined her for any other man?

Or a bad thing, because did she really think Mr. Arrogant wouldn’t remember how lowly humans were?

Like all guys, he’d act sexy and charming until he finished with her. Then he’d turn back into a dickhead.

“Well, he’s always a dickhead. But apparently, he’s good in bed, so there’s that.”

Her cheeks burned. “Morpheus, stay out of my head.”

Khent turned her to face him and smiled. “You think I’m a dickhead?

That pure joy stunned her, so beautiful he seemed radiant. She could only stare back in disbelief. “I’m not dreaming?”

“No.” He kissed her, his branding brutal and swift.

For a second, she forgot her own name.

He pulled back and turned her around to face Morpheus once more, his arms around her tightening before he sat them both up. Using the sheet to hide her from the lecherous god’s gaze, he growled, “Mine.”

“Geez, Khent. Why don’t you pee around her to mark your territory?” Morpheus rolled his eyes. “Vampires.”

She heard Khent hiss and clutched his hand over her belly. “Shh. Don’t let the shiny god get to you. Remember. You’re mine.”

Khent gave a soft chuckle. “You amuse me, Valentine.”

“You two are just the cutest.” Morpheus’s body glowed so brightly it hurt Val to look at him. When the glow faded, he wore jeans and a golden tee-shirt. “Now up and at ‘em. I have something to show you.”

Of course he watched her with a big grin on his face, refusing to turn around.

Khent darted around Val and dove at the god, but Morpheus controlled his environment with ease.

He snapped his fingers, and Khent wore his typical trousers and collared shirt in black. Val wore jeans and a pretty pink tee.

Khent’s eyes darkened with fury as he stared at her.

“What?”

“You will turn her hair back to its natural color. Now.”

Val glanced down to see her normally brown hair a soft gold. “Huh?”

“Oh, relax, Khent. She seemed so happy and sunny there for a moment. She was screaming ‘I’m a blond.’” Morpheus shrugged, and she watched her hair turn dark again. “Happy now? Honestly, you vampires are so sensitive.”

Once again, Morpheus vanished when Khent drove a fist at his face.

“Temper, temper, Son of Osiris.”

“He’s a Night Bloode,” she automatically corrected.

Khent nodded. “Correct.”

“Whatever. You two, come with me.” Morpheus pointed to a large door that appeared next to the bathroom.

“Was this here before?” she asked.

“No.” Khent stared at it. “Morpheus, if we die in the dream state, do we die in reality?”

“I don’t think so. Yes? No? Well, humans can. But you’re not human, are you?”

“But Valentine is.”

“Is she?” The god shrugged. “Better keep her close then.”

He preceded them through the door.

Khent urged Val behind him. “Stay close to me.”

She frowned. “I can handle myself.”

He looked down at her, the familiar arrogance on his handsome face. But instead of the perpetual condescension he wore when studying her, she saw something hard to name. Not affection exactly, but a softness.

“Fine,” she said absently, trying to figure out why she felt like blushing under his scrutiny.

The bastard smiled again, putting her brain on pause. He grabbed her hand and tugged her with him through the door.

Khent tightened his grip on Valentine, shocked that Morpheus hadn’t warned him to beware Irkalla. The last time he’d been in this terrible place had been during a fight with Hanbi, when the evil god had dragged them in during their quest to free his kin from a terrible sacrifice.

Ah, fun times.

He wouldn’t mind a similar fight now, except he’d be horribly outclassed. It had been an exciting battle working alongside Varu and Kraft at the time. Now he had only a useless dream god and a sexy human. One who distracted him with her warmth and soft curves.

A glance at her body reminded him of all the places he had yet to kiss.

“Please. Keep it in your pants, Death Boy.” Morpheus sneered. “Useless? I’ll show you useless.”

“Where are we?” Valentine held onto Khent tightly though she didn’t otherwise appear scared. And she should.

“Irkalla,” Khent said. “The Underworld, where Nergal rules.”

“Nergal. Great. Vladimir’s buddy.”

“Ha. Vladimir wishes.” Morpheus motioned for them to follow him in the dark, smoky corridor. All the color had been leached from life, leaving nothing but an emptiness even grief couldn’t touch. Sounds were muted, the scents of decay and hellfire dull as well.

“This isn’t right.” Val sounded angry. “Death is a good place.”

“Ah, but this is not death.” A being so large he had to be part of some nightmare appeared before them. A good twenty times Khent’s size with the body of a man and the head of a bull. Yet not a minotaur.

He almost looked like Apis, the sacred bull god once worshipped in Memphis, who granted the power of kings. A source of fertility needed in Egyptian lands.

And a drunken asshole who still owed Khent’s sire a truckload of gold for a herd he’d once stolen off Sons of Osiris lands.

“No, not Apis. He’s fun. Nergal isn’t,” Morpheus muttered, reading Khent’s mind without permission.

Distracted by the sight before him, Khent didn’t chastise him for it, though he made a note to later.

The underworld god left a giant throne of bones and stepped toward them, shrinking in size with each step until he stood a head taller than Khent.

The bull’s head changed so that his features resembled those of a man, his skin and long hair the color of rain clouds, his features beautiful in their androgyny.

“Ah, so this is the one.” Nergal walked around Valentine. The way he watched her, with avarice, made Khent uncomfortable—but not worried.

He prepared to fight. To keep what belonged to him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Morpheus nod.

In a smooth, beautifully pitched voice, Nergal asked, “Why do you bring them here, God of Dreams?”

“I thought it past time you all met. Besides, your boy, Spectre—and what a stupid name—is boring. Vladimir dreams of nothing but conquest. Who cares about besting your enemies if you don’t enjoy winning?

What about the spoils? What do you do in a world without boundaries?

Nothing, that’s what. Because everything is gone. ”

“Chaos is all.” Nergal leaned closer to Valentine, who glared back at him.

“Back off, buddy.”

Khent wanted to scoop her up and kiss her for being so darn cute. But he knew that would upset her, so he didn’t. Still, calling a god of war and death “buddy.” He fought not to smile. Rolf would call this comment classic. Khent would make sure to tell the draugr all about it when they returned.

If they returned.

Khent stared without expression at Morpheus, who surely knew better than to play with underworld powers he couldn’t match. God to god, in Nergal’s realm, Nergal ruled. He already had power over the dead and ghosts.

In a lot of ways, Khent had more in common with Nergal than he had to his own kin.

“You feel like my children,” Nergal said, parroting Khent’s thoughts.

“So much power in you both.” He frowned and tapped a staff that suddenly appeared in his hands.

It looked a lot like the fake staff the four-eyes had held.

Except at the top of this staff, a glowing golden eye appeared, faded, as if a ghost itself.

“It’s missing something,” Valentine said, visibly startling the god.

“Yes, it is.” Nergal smiled, exposing sharklike teeth. “Do you have my stone, dear one?”

“It’s not yours.”

Khent felt something from Valentine through their clasped hands, a roiling energy wanting to get free. Yet something in him told him now was not the time, that to let that go, in Irkalla, would be a fatal mistake.

“Time to go,” Morpheus said with cheer. “I just wanted to make the introductions before you guys meet ‘topside.’” He winked at Nergal, who scowled and finally turned his attention from Valentine, focused once more on Morpheus.

Khent dragged her behind him, blocking her from the god’s view. He didn’t release her hand.

Nergal had eyes only for Morpheus. “What have you been up to, hmm? Spying on me, perhaps?”

In a blink, Nergal appeared directly in front of Morpheus and tapped his staff against the dream god’s forehead. Morpheus collapsed to the ground. Around them, demons appeared from the shadows, vague shapes hissing and laughing and growing stronger in their amusement.

Not good.

The Lord of the Underworld sneered at Morpheus. “You piece of shit.”

Khent knew things had gone beyond bad. They needed to leave.

With Morpheus, Hecate shouted in his mind, giving him a headache.

Over his shoulder to Val, he whispered, “We have to go,” while keeping his gaze on the threat in front of him.

“That door?” she asked.

“What door?”

“Give me the stone,” Nergal demanded, his voice like hammered steel as he raised his gaze to Valentine.

“She doesn’t have it.”

“Doesn’t she?” Nergal smiled again, his skull splitting in two, now perfectly formed lion heads, one facing Khent while the other faced Valentine.

Khent felt Hecate’s warning in his bones. Especially when Nergal dug the base of his staff into Morpheus’s back and an amorphous glow rushed from Morpheus to infuse the magical rod.

Letting his own power coalesce, Khent allowed the nimbus of death he usually kept contained to fill up his bloode, thickening the energy that might give Valentine time to escape. If she had the Bloode Stone, she had to get away.

Plus, truth be told, Khent wanted to battle Nergal. He hadn’t felt this excited about life since…sliding inside Valentine.

He met her gaze briefly. She looked worried.

Oddly, he didn’t like that. Not at all. Then he noticed the door she’d mentioned.

“Go.” He could only hope it led back to consciousness and away from Irkalla.

“Not yet.” Nergal lifted his staff from Morpheus and stepped closer.

Just the break Khent needed. He moved faster than he ever had before, positioning Valentine at the door before scooping Morpheus over his shoulder, standing away from her to distract Nergal.

“I have the stone you want,” Khent said, pulling an old black ruby from a small pocket dimension he liked to keep close. Surrounded in his own murky energy, it would be enough of a temptation to distract Nergal from realizing the truth.

Nergal froze, indecision warring, then turned his attention to Khent.

Valentine hurried through the door that soon vanished.

Leaving Khent, an unconscious Morpheus, hundreds of demons and ghosts, and an angry god of pestilence in one hell of a face-off.