A Fey New World (The Godhunter #32) - Amy Sumida Page 0,2

fellow Intare through me. This bond allowed Kirill to make the magic his own and join with me to form a small pantheon of two gods.

Forming our pantheon gave Kirill the opportunity to bind our lions to him. This was a benefit because, with his new death magic, he could offer our lions an afterlife—something I couldn't do. So, the Intare—including our dead lions who'd been previously bound to Anubis—had accepted Kirill as their second god, and Kirill had used that new connection to bring our dead home. Now, if any of the Intare died, Kirill could summon their souls to Pride Palace. I don't know if all of this has severed his ties with the Russian Pantheon but I hoped it did. Not that there was anything wrong with the Russians. It's just that multiple loyalties can prove difficult. I knew that better than most.

“Tima!” the voice of one of my werelions interrupted our conversation.

“It looks as if we may not have breakfast at all,” Trevor muttered.

I went to the intercom near the bedroom door and pressed the button to speak. “Yes?”

“Tima, this is Jake. I just got back from England.”

“Oh, lovely,” I exclaimed. “Cheery-O and all that. Or is it cheery pip? Cherry pit? Oh, whatever. Welcome home, Jake.”

“Uh, yeah, thanks. Um, Tima, you need to see some of the pictures I took.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“It was meant to.”

“I'll be right down.” I gave Trevor a heavy look.

Trevor sighed and handed me my coffee. “For the road.”

I laughed as I accepted the mug. “You coming down?”

“Nah, I'll wait for Vero to get up. It should be soon, then we'll come downstairs and join you.”

Vero is our son. He's a little over a year now (I don't do the months thing) but with his Froekn—AKA werewolf—rapid growth, he was more like a 4 or maybe 5-year-old. I'm not the best at judging the age of children since all of mine grow faster than human kids. Basically, Vero walked, talked, and came to about mid-thigh on me. Which meant that he could get into lots of trouble if left to his own devices. Especially, if his older sister, Lesya, joined him. Imagine a cat and a dog teaming up to cause mayhem and you have Lesya and Vero.

“Okay, but I'll need one of these for the road too.” I gave Trevor one more kiss, then headed for the elevator. “What fresh hell is this?” I grumbled to myself as I went.

Chapter Two

Despite his very Anglo-Saxon name, Jake wasn't Caucasian. His birth name had been Jikai and that birth had happened in Japan, but his parents moved to America when Jake was young. They wanted their children to fit in so, when the kids were old enough to start school, they'd allowed him and his brothers to choose their own American names to use outside the home. The name Jake had been close enough to Jikai that he'd thought the transition would be easier on him. After Nyavirezi claimed him, he became Jake full-time so he could forget his previous life. When your present sucks, the past is just a painful reminder that you used to be happy.

Jake wasn't alone at the ridiculously long table in our medieval-esque dining hall. A handful of his fellow werelions were gathered around him, staring down at the dining table with rapt expressions. They were in front of the fireplace, which was in the middle of the inner, lengthwise wall of the rectangular room. As I mentioned, the morning was crisp and despite their different ethnicities, my werelions had been Intare long enough to adapt to their beasts' preferences. Lions like it warm if not tropical exactly. The fire was going and they each had a mug of coffee in their hands.

“What the fuck is that?” Elian asked, his dark, Cuban eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“That does not belong in England,” Hamish declared in his beautiful Scottish burr.

Hamish was one of our newly-returned souls and it made me smile just to see him standing beside his living brothers.

“What doesn't belong in England?” I asked.

The men jumped as if I'd snuck up on them and shouted “Boo!” I chuckled but then noticed the photographs spread across the table and frowned. There was something off about them.

“This,” Jake said and passed me a photo.

There was nothing chilling about the image in and of itself. It was just a photograph of the English countryside. There were trees around a grassy field spotted with wildflowers and a blue sky above. But