Blessed Death
Amy Sumida
Copyright © 2018 Amy Sumida
All rights reserved.
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More Books by Amy Sumida
The Godhunter Series(in order)
Godhunter
Of Gods and Wolves
Oathbreaker
Marked by Death
Green Tea and Black Death
A Taste for Blood
The Tainted Web
Series Split:
These books can be read together or separately
Harvest of the Gods & A Fey Harvest
Into the Void & Out of the Darkness
Perchance to Die
Tracing Thunder
Light as a Feather
Rain or Monkeyshine
Blood Bound
Eye of Re
My Soul to Take
As the Crow Flies
Cry Werewolf
Pride Before a Fall
Monsoons and Monsters
(Blessed Death)
Beyond the Godhunter
A Darker Element
Out of the Blue
The Twilight Court Series
Fairy-Struck
Pixie-Led
Raven-Mocking
Here there be Dragons
Witchbane
Elf-Shot
Fairy Rings and Dragon Kings
Black-Market Magic
The Spellsinger Series
The Last Lullaby
A Symphony of Sirens
A Harmony of Hearts
Primeval Prelude
Fairy Tales
Happily Harem After
The Four Clever Brothers
Wild Wonderland
Pan's Promise
Beauty and the Beasts
The Little Glass Slipper
Codename: Goldilocks
White as Snow
Erotica
An Unseelie Understanding
Other Books
The Magic of Fabric
Feeding the Lwas: A Vodou Cookbook
There's a Goddess Too
The Vampire-Werewolf Complex
Enchantress
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Pronunciation Guide at the back of the book.
Chapter One
I'm a casual kind of person. I don't like a lot of fuss. Yet, I somehow manage to put myself into positions where my life becomes focused on the opposite of casual. Despite my bad luck in this department, I strive—and often succeed—to turn my situation into something a little more laid back and better suited to me. I'm Queen of the Fire Kingdom in Faerie; a position inordinately posh, and yet I had managed to knock down the barriers of rank between my people and me. The faeries of the Fire Kingdom knew they could come to their monarchs with any issue, no matter how small, and we would help them. I'm technically Queen of Asgard as well—due to my marriage to Odin—but I wasn't expected to reign. I had once been Rouva of the Froekn—yet another queenly role—but thankfully, I'd been knocked down to Princess when Fenrir had married Emma. So, that made two roles I'd gotten out of, and one that I had made the most of. Then there was the Intare.
My lions and I had been like family from day one—okay, maybe day two. We were as casual as you can get; as far as relationships between gods and their demi-gods went. And that's how I liked it. I loved my large, lion family and how comfortable we were around each other. But there were also times when I had to put on my serious face and my bossy pants to be their Tima: the Heart of the Intare. Basically, I had to play referee. This was one of those instances.
“Jiminy Cricket!” I swore.
My daughter, Lesya, was nearby—sitting on her father's lap—and we all tried not to say bad words around her. In fact, it had become a game; with all of us trying to see who could come up with the most creative curses. This speech modification had become especially important now that Lesya had begun talking. Human children grew up fast, but supernatural babies could double that speed; depending on what type of supernatural they were. Lesya was part werelion, and that meant she had the maturation rate of a lion cub.
“Jiminy kick it!” Lesya scowled at the Intare as she tried to mimic me.
Kirill, her proud papa, was shaking with repressed laughter. He usually wore a more stoic expression, but our daughter was proving to be a remedy for that... which made me very proud. I was an avid supporter of humor; the more inappropriate the timing, the better. And if it made my brooding, black lion happy, I more than supported it; I encouraged and applauded it.
“Aidan,” I went on after winking at Lesya, “why is it always you?”
“Because I was born to entertain, Tima,” Aidan bowed; unabashedly taking credit—not blame—for the mayhem his brother lions were accusing him of. “Are you not entertained?” Aidan said in a booming voice as he held his arms out and turned slowly in a circle.
“Despite your wonderful Gladiator reference, no; I am not entertained, Aidan,” I growled.
“Tima, I didn't actually cut Rex's hair,” Aidan whined; the gladiator gone in an instant. “I just made it look as if I had. He acts like he's Sampson, striding about, flinging that hair in our faces. I just wanted—”
A screeching interrupted Aidan's defense, and we all went still. Every eye focused on the doorway; the origin of the sound. We were in the Common Room; where we were holding our monthly mediating meeting—Triple M for short—and the noise had echoed in from the hallway. The cry came again, and we all stood; preparing for the attack. It sounded avian, though I wasn't sure what kind. Whatever it was, it should not have ventured into a lion's den. These tom cats loved chasing birds.
A white owl soared through the doorway; making the men duck momentarily. The owl's wingspan was close to five feet, and it had to pull its feathers in to get through the doorway. The bird glided over the startled lions and headed straight for me. Every eye focused on the bird sharply... and then the Pride attacked.
You can't just rush through a pride of werelions and head straight for
