Taken by the Blood God (Devil Springs #4)

Chapter 8

Chapter

Eight

Talant

The little witch despised me. It hurt more than it should have. I was a god. When at my full capabilities, I was one of the most powerful beings to ever walk this earth. Yet I couldn’t convince this woman to give me a chance. If my chest didn’t ache at the thought, I would have laughed. Cassia would have loved her.

I kept my distance the rest of the day, giving Minerva space. I wasn’t sure I could handle more of her sharp tongue just yet.

I knew from stories that Ally told me in the dreamscape that her aunt was funny. And generous. She was also kind. But she had yet to show me those sides of her—unless you counted her biting wit. While her observations were humorous, the way she viewed me sliced deep.

When I fell asleep that night, I could feel my brother calling for me. It was muted and far away, but I knew exactly where he was. I could sense his weakness. The constant drain on his magic was taking its toll.

I woke before first light and reached for my power. It had replenished to the level it had been before I dreamwalked to Davian. But it hadn’t grown as it should have.

My own power had fueled the hundreds of years I slept beneath the mountain. The spell I’d created had diminished it to the point that I’d needed a catalyst like Ally to wake me. I’d been too weak to awaken myself.

I expected my magic to regenerate within days.

Two weeks later, I was still waiting.

Even in my weakened state, I had more power than the warlocks who were draining Davian. With Minerva to help me, it would be no problem to free him from his prison.

As the sky began to lighten, I went to Minerva’s room, pushing the door open. I knew I shouldn’t be in here, not after what happened yesterday morning, but the urge to go to Davian was growing stronger. Which meant we were running out of time.

My footsteps were silent as I walked over to the bed, looking down at the woman who slept beneath the blankets.

Even in sleep, she seemed to burn like a star. Her long red hair was spread all around her and her pale skin was flushed pink with sleep. With her hair and the lush shape of her body, Minerva should have been a siren, not a witch. Any male would willingly drown for a chance to taste her lips.

But Fate had other plans.

Not only was she a witch, but she was also a Conduit for the one goddess who had imprisoned Davian.

We were bound together by destiny. Whether we liked it or not.

She still hadn’t addressed the fact that she was a Conduit with me. She hadn’t demanded that I tell her more. But I knew it was coming. Someday soon she was going to want more information, and I dreaded that day. I suspected that would be the day my past destroyed me.

I sank down onto the edge of the mattress, my hip next to hers. As she had the night we slept in her bed, Minerva turned toward me in her sleep. Her knees crooked, and her upper body curled forward until her forehead was pressed against my thigh. She surrounded me with the curve of her body.

The action gave me hope. Hope that she didn’t hate me. Hope that she could feel something completely different for me someday. Hope was a dangerous emotion. It could break you far more easily than love. Love could die, but hope, by its very nature, rarely faded. When hope remained unfulfilled, year after year, lifetime after lifetime, it destroyed.

A lock of red hair fell across my leg. I looked down at it before reaching down to rub it between my thumb and forefinger. Minerva’s sharp tongue tended to distract me from the softness of her. Her hair, her body, and her heart. That softness in her—she protected it fiercely. Those parts of her were guarded from all but those she loved and trusted most.

Minerva sighed, and her head moved, pulling her hair out of my loose hold. She rolled over onto her back, stretching an arm above her head. The blanket over her shifted lower, revealing the dark blue silk of her nightgown.

Her eyes cracked open, and she groaned. “What are you doing in here again?”

“Waking you up,” I answered.

“Why?” She lifted a hand to cover her mouth as she yawned.

“Because we need to leave soon.”

Minerva rubbed her eyes and blinked several times. “What time is it?”

“The sun is rising.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Okay, but that doesn’t tell me what time it is.”

Nudging me with her knee until I stood, Minerva turned over and picked up her phone from the nightstand.

“Goddess, Tal, it’s not even six in the morning!”

It was the first time she’d used Ally’s nickname for me. I liked it more than I expected.

“Davian is calling me,” I explained. “He can’t wait much longer.”

She sat up on the mattress, pushing her hair out of her face as she looked at me. “Davian? Is that your brother’s name?”

I nodded. “His true name.”

“Okay, give me a half an hour to get ready. Go pack a bag.”

When I hesitated, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have a bag.”

I only had a few changes of clothes and a small handful of toiletries that Minerva and her friends had provided for me. That was all I owned in this world.

She threw back the blankets and climbed out of the bed. I watched as she disappeared inside her closet and came out a few moments later with a small brown bag.

“Here. You can pack your things in this,” she said, holding the bag out to me.

“Thank you.”

Before my sleep, supplicants would have supplied me with anything and everything I needed. Or I would have the money to purchase it myself. Humans, witches, shifters, vampires—they all paid me to grant them favors. Either with money, favors, or gifts.

It was strange to own so little after having all I could ever want. But I didn’t want to go back to that. I didn’t like who I became then. I’d been granted a second chance, and I didn’t intend to waste it.

“I’ll be ready soon,” Minerva said.

I nodded and left the bedroom. As I packed my bag, I realized that, in my time in Minerva’s home, I hadn’t wanted for anything else.

Nothing but her.