Marked by Death (The Godhunter, Book 4) by Amy Sumida Page B

I’ll bet you do. You love the hunt… the kill, and you tell yourself it’s all in the name of survival. It’s for the greater good. Are you so different from the gods you hunt? I don’t think so. Worse, I think. At least we are honest about what we do.
    Twist my actions all you want, I thought, directing my hatred at him. You and I both know what gods do to humans, what this god in particular has done. I don’t enjoy the kill, I never have, but I make sure to remember it. I make sure to sear it into my soul and pay the price with my memory.
    He quieted and I hoped he was gone for good, as the scene continued to play out before me. Acan’s hair had caught fire but the flames wouldn’t kill him, nothing but decapitation would, so he just continued to scream. The sound was horrendous and I found myself wanting to cover my ears.
    “Madame,” I called to Pele. “This is beneath you. You've had your revenge, now let's be done with this nasty business. Let me kill him.” I unsheathed my magically enhanced kodachi. The short sword caught the sunlight on its edge.
    Pele frowned, looking over the charring flesh of her enemy. “You’re right, his suffering has eased my wrath. Now he only sickens me. Do what you do best, Godhunter.” She dropped him to the floor, where he immediately rolled out the flames. Stop, Drop, and Roll. It was surprising how many people forgot that.
    I walked forward and stared down at his whimpering, patheticness. My stomach twisted at the smell of cooked meat and I fought back the lioness, who reared up for the kill. The selfish god had caused more suffering than I could imagine but it still bothered me to see him tortured. I was not naive enough to think that he could be saved but I wasn’t jaded enough to believe in useless torment either. Vengeance was ugly and slow, justice should be swift.
    I lifted my blade and as I brought it down, severing the god’s neck and sending him into whatever kind of afterlife awaited the gods, Anubis whispered once more.
    I don’t understand you.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Nine
     
    I didn’t hear from Anubis again until I was standing in the bathroom of my suite in Pride Palace. I guess the God of the Dead had a thing for water.
    The bathroom was large and open, dominated by a central, sunken tub that could easily fit five. It was round, deep enough that it required a set of stairs to get into, and lined with a shelf for sitting. In the center, a large showerhead was hung, negating the need for shower doors or curtains since the spray didn’t have a snowball's chance in hell, of reaching the edge. Okay, probably not the best times to be using idioms referring to hell.
    Normally I would make use of the shower, the bath using too much water for just me. My Japanese blood hated to waste but after the horrible week I’d been having, the other seventy-five percent of my genes was taking over. The mix of Caucasian and Native American was telling my reserved Japanese to take a hike, we wanted a bath.
    I watched as the water rushed into the tub from four foot-long narrow openings beneath the rim. The mammoth basin was filled in less than five minutes and I was rushing to turn off the faucets. Damn, that was a lot of water to pump in so fast. Must be the god plumbing.
    I threw off my clothes, laying them on one of the numerous pieces of bamboo furniture, and happily made my way down the steps and into the warm water. At the bottom I sank down, letting the water cover my head and plug my ears with the welcome silence only submersion could provide. I floated to the top, breaking the surface with my face so I could breathe, but keeping my ears filled with the liquid oblivion. I felt a ledge beneath me and braced myself against it, splashing with my toes in delight. Naked, weightless, warm, and wet… it was just what I needed. Of course Anubis chose to interrupt that peaceful moment.
    You confuse me,