Chapter Eight
The silence in the meeting room was broken by Verrie’s attention-getting cough. Strange. Dumuzi expected her to settle down in her chair and take a back seat at the proceedings to see what would unfold, but apparently, she had something to say.
“You know, I hear all of you in my head…” she began, standing up.
Dumuzi took the time to really look at her now that she was close and paying no attention to him. She looked young despite the fact she had to be in her late thirties because of Sienna’s age. Her figure―in a form-fitting, white t-shirt and skinny jeans―showed off average sized breasts and a trim double-hand-full ass. Not his normal type, but certainly nice. Her hair, shoulder-length and a blonde too plain for description, was neither straight nor curly, simply framing her face in a non-intrusive way.
Dumuzi honestly felt he would never have given her a second look back in the day if not for two stunning features—Veronica’s vivid blue eyes flecked with shards of gold, the exact colors of a Pipevine Swallowtail butterfly, and her lush, bow-shaped lips. Succulent lips he could already imagine nipping and sucking into the warm cavity of his mouth. His cock stirred. Yeah. Those lips were unbelievable, but he needed to cut the crap and shut down his dick’s attempt at show and tell.
Dumuzi forced his gaze back to the whole package. Otherwise prim and authoritative, he found nothing else that would make him stir. He keyed back in to her voice—provocative, smooth—it flowed like cool rain on a parched field. Damn. Interested again. He didn’t need that complication. Why were there so many things about her to like even when trying to discredit her attributes?
“…which is very disconcerting in itself,” she continued. Veronica gazed around the circle at the sitting and standing crowd. “But what I’m finding most disturbing, other than the fact my daughter, my friends, and I are reluctant ‘guests’ in your home,”―yeah, she’d put a lot of emphasis on guests,― “is the fact that you have someone in your ‘dungeon’”―more emphasis― “in a ‘jail cell’”―one more time― “and nobody’s paying any heed to his loud ranting.”
Sienna and Riley broke in with a quick, “We’re hearing it, too.”
Veronica nodded and continued her sexy little speech.
“Is that where we’re going to end up?” She tried not to show any fear, but Dumuzi, already so in tune with her, saw the corner of her right eye twitch. He almost spoke, but Marduk beat him to it.
“Hell, no.” The thunder god quickly squashed that train of thought. “Matthew is a…a… he’s a…” He stumbled over his choice of words, but luckily, King Nergal took over.
“Matthew is a traitor who, despite his criminal acts, may be given a chance to redeem himself. That is the reason he is here, in a clean and well cared for area of the lower floors, and not in the bowels of my realm where he could, eventually, end up.”
“The bowels of your realm?” Veronica’s eyebrows couldn’t have raised any higher. “What are you talking about? Who are you people?”
“Nergal, your grace,” Marduk placated the king who bristled at being questioned, “we’ve yet to fill Sienna’s mother or her friend in on our background. If we could just take this slowly…”
“Screw slowly,” the woman named Frank interjected, and before she could take her poor choice of words back, laughs and elbows flew. Dumuzi got the same instant picture in his mind all the smut-loving individuals in the room conjured. Frank was a damned fine-looking woman even if she was a human getting up in years. Any one of them―if not mated―would pleasure her in a heartbeat.
As a point of interest, Dumuzi shot a glance to Ishkur, their gray-haired god. Funny, he was the only one not laughing and was looking anywhere but at Frank. Not a Chosen kind of chemistry between the two, but a possible hook-up? Dumuzi made a mental note to keep an eye on that one.
“Ha-ha,” Frankie, also studiously avoiding the side of the room where Ishkur stood, joined in sarcastically. “Foh the recuhd, I nohmally like it fast and hahd.” Her bright green eyes flashed around, selectively. “But none of you guys could handle me, so no use gettin’ yuhselves worked up.” She got back on track. “But enough bullshit. Verrie has a damned good question. Who and what the hell ah you guys, anyway?”
“They’re gods, Gram,” Riley couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “From ancient Mesopotamia.” Both Frank and Veronica looked like they were about to speak when Sienna pre-empted them, getting up to walk toward her mother.
“It’s true, Mom.” She gripped Veronica’s arm. “They showed us some neat stuff only gods could do. And Mom, don’t you get it?” She paused and looked her mother right in the eye. “We can hear their voices in our heads. Doesn’t that tell you anything? Doesn’t that make you feel just the teensiest bit curious to know…with our problems…we can hear gods? Like maybe we’re not fucked up in the head?”
“Language, Si,” her mother cautioned, looking a little like she might fall to the floor at any moment. Dumuzi unconsciously moved closer. If anyone was picking Veronica up off of the hardwood, it would be him.
“But,” Veronica glanced around as if unsure whether to say more, then went for broke. “Their voices are human, honey. English. The ones I’ve been hearing,” she narrowed her eyes at her daughter and shook her head, “and the ones you’ve apparently been hearing as well, speak some rough, odd, garbled language.” She was obviously pained and couldn’t help herself from asking. “Why didn’t you tell me it was happening to you too, Sienna?”
“Because I knew you got better when you moved to Colorado,” her daughter explained. “And I wanted to finish high school here. I figured I could handle it for one more year. Then I could come live with you.”
Veronica moved to wrap her daughter in a smothering hug. “You should have told me, anyway. I would have preferred that over you and Riley resorting to drugs.” It was pretty clear to Dumuzi Sienna’s friend had gone along with the partying to show solidarity. Neither one of them fit the profile of bad-kids-smoking-and-drinking-in-the-woods. Hell, they’d been quoting Shakespeare and knew about Mesopotamia. No way were they total stoners, these were a couple of smart, motivated girls.
“You would have worried too much and probably messed up your life by coming to be with me…like now.” Sienna’s voice was accusing, but her look was pure love. She backed down. “So, now what?” She wrinkled up her nose.
“Now, we help you get rid of the evil voices, for good.” Enlil ground a fist into his palm. The wind god was always up for a good fight.
“Evil voices?” Frank picked up on that one. “How do you know what Verrie and Si ah hearin’?” She was looking protective and pissed.
“If everyone could just settle down, I’m going to try to explain,” Marduk groused, clearly exasperated at all the chatter. He barely managed to be polite while telling everyone to shut the fuck up.
The room quieted.
“Thank you,” he acknowledged. “Now, I’ll begin by giving you a brief history of our group.” He looked around while everyone settled. “We are―thirteen of us here in the room―ancient Mesopotamian gods who were sent to hell thousands of years ago for various trumped-up charges,” he dared to sneer at the king. “When it was decided we’d suffered enough in the Underworld, we were given a second chance. We were sent to earth, to Merrymount, which is now Quincy, Massachusetts, in the year 1624 to perform a task. The problem was, within four years of being here, we screwed up on our assigned duty. But instead of going back to hell, we were left to wander the Blue Hills, invisible for all time, or so we figured.”
The stunned expressions on the women’s faces told it all.
“Thankfully, we were wrong.” He sent a blazing hot surge of energy toward his wife, Tess. Thunder rolled outside.
Yeah, yeah. Get on with it, Muze smirked. Everyone knew the two were inseparable.
“We discovered―last year in April―we could regain our bodies. It took a while to find out why, but eventually, we discovered it would happen by one of two methods…uh, actually three.” Marduk looked from Dumuzi to Sienna knowingly. “We either found the person who was destined to become our eternal mate, or a semi-mortal whose bloodlines we had contributed to…”
“Meaning we’d gotten ourselves…uh, busy in Merrymount,” Anshar sent waggling eyebrows in Frank’s direction for her previous comment, “and planted a few seeds.” This one was aimed at Dumuzi who barely held back a snarl.
“I get the pitchah,” Frank smirked and turned her attention back to Marduk. “So, keep going.”
“Thank you,” he nodded. “We’ve since found out sometimes a child of a Chosen even a mother or a sibling can make the happy event of embodiment happen.”
“So, let me get this straight. If there are three ways for you to become visible,” Veronica repeated, “when you meet someone who has the power, how do you know which category they fall into?”
She was now more than studiously avoiding Dumuzi.
“With a descendant or a periphery relative, we get no strong feelings of possessiveness or…”
“Horniness?” Sienna was quick on the uptake. She turned to Dumuzi who wanted to duck under the conference table and hide. “Now I get it. You were totally uncomfortable with me because I made you visible,” she pondered, “but I didn’t make you want to screw…”
“Sienna,” Her mother’s nearly hysterical voice tried to stop where things headed.
“Let me finish, Mom.” Sienna never took her eyes off of the vegetation god. “I didn’t cause any lust in you, and that’s why you were all pouty and shit. You thought I was your eternal…whatever. But I wasn’t. And,” she added cannily, “as soon as my mother walked in the door, I ceased to exist.” A sly grin grew on her face.
“I’m right, aren’t I? It’s my mother who does it for you. She’s the one you want.” Sienna’s excitement bubbled over, and she addressed Veronica again. “That means you have no choice, Mom. You’re going to be a freaking goddess like these other guy’s wives. That is so wicked cool.”
“Oh, no.” Veronica held out her hands, rose from her chair, and backed up a few steps, shaking her head. “No way. That is not going to happen.”
“Verrie, calm down.” Glory moved in behind the wide-eyed woman. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” she used a calming tone. “Let Marduk tell you everything before you freak out.”
Veronica looked like she wanted nothing more than to flee but let herself be led back to her chair where she sat heavily.
Dumuzi wished she’d look at him again, just once. Since their original connection in the hallway, she’d done a great job of shutting him out…and it bothered him. Somewhere deep inside his chest was the need to let her know everything would be okay…even when she looked like she wanted nothing from him. But shouldn’t he be happy she was shutting him out? Isn’t that what he hoped for?
“Thanks, Glory,” Marduk picked up where he left off. “Fortunately, or unfortunately,” Marduk gave an apologetic shrug toward Veronica, “the Chosen of a god―which is what we call his eventual mate―is inexplicably drawn to her fated immortal, so no matter how she thinks she feels, she will relent to a mating in the end.”
Now there was no mistaking the gasp from Veronica as she dropped her head and cradled it in her hands.
“And that’s good for us,” Marduk held his hands up and gestured all around. “Because if all of us don’t join with our Chosen by September fifteenth of this year, we’ll be pulled back to the Underworld…forever.” He let that one drop, and the room went dead silent for a full minute as he let the newcomers digest this shit piece of news.
“I have a question,” Frank piped up. “Which ones a you ah gods, and which ones ah…” Her mouth fell open in a large, shocked “O.”
Dumuzi turned. Perfect timing, the blue guys had just slipped into the room.
“Ignore them for a few minutes,” Marduk ordered and addressed his long-time companions. “Original thirteen gods, please join me, front and center.” Anshar, Dagon, Enten, Enlil, Lahar, Emesh, Dumuzi, Shamash, Ishkur, Ninurta, Kulla, and Absu came to stand next to Marduk. Once they lined up, the thunder god spoke again.
“Before you are the original thirteen,” he explained. “You can only see twelve of us because Ninurta hasn’t been turned visible by any mate or relatives yet.”
Dumuzi looked at the woman named Frank who seemed to be counting…then counting again. “Well I’m not shooah if I’m the one ta point this out, but yoah wrong. I’m countin’ thirteen.” She tipped her head adorably to one side and chewed on her bottom lip. Did Ishkur just groan?
Marduk pointed to Ninurta.
“Shit. You see him?”
Dumuzi flinched. You knew when the boss’s voice cracked, something was pretty weird.
“Yeah. Kinda grumpy lookin’ fella with spiky dahk haiya and gray eyes?”
“Okay,” Marduk thrust a hand into his own thick, dark “haiya” and shook himself like a big dog. “One question, then we’ll leave it for now. Gods-dammit, we need to focus on one issue at a time.” He ran his eyes knowingly down the line of gods. “Gentlemen?” The single word posed a question. They all knew what the thunder god asked. Was anybody else feeling a “Chosen-like” attraction to any of the females? The boss got a negative head-shake from each god, and Dumuzi was pretty sure, despite Ishkur’s horniness, they were being honest.
“Alright, fine.” Marduk was willing to put that to a temporary rest. “Do any of you other ladies see Ninurta?” When all of them nodded yes, he grimaced. “Fine. But believe me when I say, to the public in general, he’s still invisible. Right Flick?”
“Yeah. I still can’t see his ugly ass,” the agent confirmed.
“Good. Back to business.” He pointed a finger at Veronica. “You, for better or for worse, are Dumuzi’s eternal mate, and that means one of a few things.”
Marduk enumerated, “First, we’re going to solve the mystery of the voices which we immortals have already ascertained come from some form of Underworld demon.” He ignored the look of shock that passed over the women’s faces.
“Secondly, we’re going to attempt to tie all of your hearing-voices episodes to those of Dumuzi’s…events. It is my belief he, in a really fucked up way, has been preparing himself for this moment all his life.”
Now Dumuzi felt stunned. What was Marduk getting at?
“And third.” There was no mistaking the edict from Marduk. This was not a request. It was a demand. “Dumuzi, you will get to know Verrie in the next few days. You can fill her in on all your glorified titles—god of vegetation, god of swamps and marshes, dominion over wild creatures, etc.— then the two of you will mate.” He turned softer eyes to Veronica. “I’m sorry, but that’s the way it has to be.”