Releasing Chaos Read online

  The annoying hum turned into chanting, the ancient Sumerian tongue hard to translate. Inanna sang in a low tone, her words counter to those echoing throughout the chamber. My wolf snarled as we both came to comprehend what she meant to do. I wanted to scream, "No." I wanted to pull at the chains binding me, to run, escape from the future I suddenly saw. The clarity terrified me. I'd be forever changed. Daniel had warned me I'd never, ever be able to go back, and I'd thought I'd understood. I'd been wrong.

  My wolf pushed against my skin, begging to be released. And I wished I could let him go. I wished I could separate him from my body, so he could run free and escape what would come. I gritted my teeth against his snarls, even as I apologized for what I had to let happen. Shamash, forgive me.

  Immense pressure crawled along my skin and I could barely draw breath. A putrid red glow surrounded the Goddess Inanna as her chanting became more guttural, the words harsh on the tongue and against my ears. She held her hands over my chest, her claws lengthening, blackening, until they were shaped like daggers. When she sank them into me, the white-hot pain piercing me was nothing like I'd ever experienced before. Distantly, I wondered if this was what Tristan experienced when his bond was broken with Theodore Sullivan. Even after all these years, his screams haunted my dreams. He'd sounded so much like the wails of sorrow I released when the Goddess gripped the rough of my wolf. In one vicious, unforgiving tug, she tore him from me.

  I couldn't stop the tears that blurred my vision. For the briefest of moments, I wished I'd died. But that fate wouldn't be my lot. This was the road I had chosen, and the journey was mine to take. There would be time enough for dying later. I'd made a promise, and it would be one I'd keep before I allowed myself to pass on into the fade.

  Suddenly, Daniel appeared over me, his countenance fuzzy. If not for the length of bleached blond hair, I wouldn't have recognized him. He ran his hands over my chest up my neck to my face, touching the pools at the corner of my eyes. His breath stuttered and I thought he'd speak, but instead, he leaned down and licked away the tears I'd spilt.

  "The pain is over, I promise. She'll hurt you no more. I knew your words were true. You said you'd give up everything, and there were those who doubted, but I didn't. I believed. You left everything behind for me. I will never forget and you'll always be mine." Daniel said the last with a possessive snarl. I nodded in acceptance. "I'll make you feel good now and you'll forget everything but me."

  When he kissed me, he swallowed my sobs as if he was hungry for my pain.

  Chapter Seven

  Brian Minoa

  I saw the wheels turning in Tristan's head. He stared with narrowed eyes at the magnificent bird Theo had turned into. The whole scenario made me wonder, if Tristan was this soft-hearted as Tiamat's Voice, how lenient would Ushna be as the Heart? Although, when it came to Tristan, Ushna became just as ruthless as I could be. When Tristan first explained that Theo would be reborn, Ushna's furious frown made me believe he didn't understand Tristan's motivation any more than I did. Most people wouldn't help an ex acquire a new beginning.

  Originally, I would've left Theo to his fate because I remembered the incarnations where Tristan's 'Twin Flame' hadn't put Tristan first. I'd listened intently to Theo and his answers, noting there was a marked difference between him and the person—persons—he'd been in prior lifetimes. If I had detected any hint of subterfuge, I would've slipped in here after nightfall and put an end to Theo's new beginning. So far, Theo seemed sincere, and I hoped he wouldn't prove me wrong. I took a long look at the possessiveness and deep-seated need to protect Tristan and Ushna. Knowing who Theo was to Tristan in their prior incarnations, perhaps I should have been jealous, but I wasn't. I didn't even hate him. Personally, he meant nothing to me. Tristan was finally ours, and I knew he wouldn't leave us. Theo was no longer a threat to our relationship.

  I had to admit, though, that I was impressed with the resilience Theo had shown so far. He'd lived a hundred or more lifetimes, been manipulated in many different and sometimes cruel ways, and yet he'd bounced back. I've seen and listened to humans who bemoaned their circumstances, using it as a scapegoat for their terrible actions, while others took their misfortune and reformed it to accomplish great deeds. Theo had yet to blame the Goddess Inanna, taking full responsibility for his actions. I was skeptical, but perhaps, with time, Theo would prove he was worthy of the new life given to him by Tristan and Tiamat.

  Cupping Tristan's cheek, I gave him a quick kiss, stealing a taste of him before I ventured out into the revived Sanctuary. There was an itch between my shoulders I couldn't scratch, and remaining in one place for too long made me antsy. "I want to speak with the Hunters to see if I can find out more about Marduk."

  Tristan grimaced. "Good luck. They are tongue-tied around me. Drawing out any kind of information has been like pulling teeth."

  "You awe them. The guards we've assigned to them have relayed the fables and lore the Hunters pass around over their evening meal. Tiamat's chosen will apparently free her children from Marduk's shackles. They hold you in high regard." I grinned as Tristan's expression only soured further.

  "Not that I'm ungrateful for how my—our—life has turned out, but I miss the days when we worked with the ranch hands; joking around, and playing pranks, and simply being like everyone else." Tristan looked up at me with longing. I understood what he was saying.

  He missed blending in and being one of the guys, being an anonymous face in the crowd. Now, everyone stared at him with open admiration. On top of everything, he'd come back from Tiamat physically changed, and Tristan was self-conscious of his appearance, hiding his differences every time he left our private rooms. But his looks didn't scare others away. Quite the opposite: Some could barely string two words together when he spoke to them. The one exception: the majority of the warriors who had been with Tristan long enough to have their awe tamped down to a more tolerable level. They didn't trip over their own two feet to do Tristan's bidding. On the flip side, those in his inner circle were good people. In private they dropped the titles and treated Tristan as a friend. He was lucky to have them. I remembered many lifetimes in which he didn't.

  I wanted to brush my knuckles over his cheek again but stayed my hand, afraid I was being too demonstrative. It would take time for me to learn what Tristan and Ushna would or wouldn't allow. "Once the newness wears off, they'll find you more approachable. Give them time. Wherever you go, you bring change in your wake. That in and of itself can be daunting."

  "We." Tristan captured my wrist and drew my hand to his face, leaning into my touch. His lips brushed my fingers.

  "What?" He did this to me—made me lose track of our conversation with one simple touch. The pleased smirk he gave me said he knew precisely what sort of effect he had.

  "Wherever 'we' go. The three of us will bring change. You and Ushna are a part of the equation. You just haven't given them anything to fangirl over yet. Your time will come. Soon, I'll be the one placating you with soft platitudes and deep wisdom." Tristan cackled almost evilly at my frown, and I playfully pushed him away.

  "Brat," I mumbled, which earned me a hard slap on my ass. "Promises, promises," I threw back at him before I stepped through the open doorway.

  Taking a moment to fish the cellphone out of my pocket, I turned and took what Tristan and Ushna called a selfie. Well, I took several of them with the pool and three stone circles in the background. Since returning, cellphones and digital cameras had become my favorite inventions. I took a lot of photographs of me with other people and places. I didn't have many pictures from my childhood and mourned the loss. Perhaps I overcompensated with how many photos I'd taken since Tristan showed me how to use the phone, but there was also a part of me wanting to capture history in the making. The next few months would bring untold changes, and I was determined to record as much of it as I could.

  Once I was satisfied with the photos, I moved toward the voices coming from the gardens. Before we arrived, Tristan h
ad described the city—well, technically, I didn't think this could be called a city. Sanctuary maybe, or perhaps a holy citadel. He'd told me the grounds resembled ruins instead of the pristine and renewed grounds that met my sight now. What the city had looked like when Tristan found it could be seen further out along the edges near the forest. But even as I watched, the dragonets worked diligently, changing the face of the holy place.

  So far, the only edifices erected seemed to be shelters—rooms to eat or sleep—a couple of bathhouses sporting warm bubbling pools, and various aesthetically pleasing gardens, as well as those growing edible food. I was curious to see how big Sanctuary would become once everything had been reclaimed from the surrounding forest.

  When I stepped into the largest of the gardens, I stumbled upon a half dozen hunters sitting in the shade. They quickly rose to their feet. They still wore forest camo. Strangely, their scents didn't portray them as wolf or prey. I caught hints of dry scales, meaning one or two of them were some kind of serpent or lizard. That they weren't human was evident in their appearance, with eyes devoid of white, and harsh angular features, but those were my only clues to their origin.

  The one Tristan had identified earlier as Leora spoke for the group. "How may we help you, Your Highness?"

  "I'm sorry? Say again?" When the God Mithra heralded Tristan to our people, pronouncing him King and Tiamat's voice, I'd also been identified as Tiamat's Sword. The Hunters hadn't been there. How would they know?

  Leora bowed again, her gaze holding a reverence I hadn't earned. I was beginning to understand what Tristan had meant earlier. "My apologies. Even if we hadn't already known the Lore of the Voice, the Heart, and the Sword, we heard the God Mithra's declaration as if we'd been standing next to him, Your Highness." Those surrounding Leora murmured excitedly. She raised her eyes to me without coming out of her bow. "The Herald has spoken, and all with god blood will know you as Master Sword, chosen of the Goddess Tiamat. The time of our freedom is imminent."

  As I motioned for her to rise, Leora's companions nodded their agreement. Weeks ago, several Gods and Goddesses had come to the ranch to witness Mithra herald Tristan as King of the Lycans and his twin sons as heirs to the Seat of Zeev. Then he declared the three of us to be the Blood Trinity: Tristan as Tiamat's Voice, Ushna her Heart, and me her Sword. Together, we would rule Tiamat's children. I hadn't considered that any not in attendance would also hear Mithra's declaration, which meant the God Marduk likely knew, as well as the Goddess Inanna. I didn't imagine Marduk would roll over and give up his control of Tiamat's children without a fight. Tristan was so focused on Inanna he didn't give Marduk's threat due respect. But then, that was my purpose. I was the sword protecting his back, to see the dangers he didn't and to deal with them before they threatened him or Ushna.

  The hunters stood stock still as I took a closer look at them, studying their features. None of them could have passed for human. As well as those whose eyes had irises but no whites, others had claws, or almost no nose. Unless measures were taken to cover the oddities, they would stick out in a crowd. Where, then, did they live? "I would appreciate it if you would just call me Brian."

  Leora nodded sagely. "You're right. Addressing you by a title puts a spotlight on you for all your enemies to see. Wise decision."

  My mouth hung open for a moment before my brain kicked in gear. I was inviting familiarity, not thinking strategy.

  "Ah, yeah… I wanted to speak with all of you." I motioned for them to get comfortable. More soldiers joined our group and I sat where I could see all of them. "You obviously know who I am. Would you mind introducing yourselves?"

  Wide-eyed, they stumbled over their names without offering additional information. This was going to be a long, long talk.

  "What is your team comprised of? I scent—" I made a show of sniffing the air, hoping they would be prompted into sharing more.

  "I'm Girtablilu, commonly called scorpion-man," Leora offered. She made small motions with her hands, the gestures prompting the others to offer up their—species? Or would it be considered race?

  It was hard to keep my mind from spinning from all the ancient terms I could barely pronounce. Almost half of the fifteen-person team were made up of scorpion-men. There were a couple of Ugalla. The name loosely translated to 'big weather-beast'. When transformed, they were lion-headed humanoids with eagle talons as feet. There was also two "furious serpents". Mushussu—which I couldn't say without mangling the name—a hybrid dragon of sorts. Their form had been featured on the Gates of Ishtar, a scaly dragon with hind legs like an eagle's talons, and feline forelegs. Their serpent neck was as long as their tail and they were crowned with horns and a crest.

  Mentally translating the names from the old tongue caused a pain to form behind my eyes. The memories of my other lives were settling, but dredging up the oldest ones, where I'd actually spoken the language, was hard.

  "Think about what you would like to be called, a new name for your peoples to herald the changes to come," I encouraged, making sure to meet each gaze so they saw my sincerity. Perhaps by doing so, we could help them break from their past and find a new identity separate from the slavery they'd endured until now.

  Leora glanced to her comrades. "We will think on it."

  The last thing we wanted was for these people to believe they were changing the shackles of one tyrant for another. Sure they were star struck now, but we were essentially holding them prisoner within the boundaries of Sanctuary, although this would not always be the case. When Tristan was sure we could trust them, they would be set free. For now, we didn't know them well enough to make a judgment call. Personally, I believed we could trust the group before me; I didn't see blank faces or expressions of anger. However, Tristan's trust had been bruised by his brother's betrayal and, over the last couple of weeks, I'd had to watch him struggle and question his judgment on each of his decisions. When it came to these people, I hoped my observations would help to ease his mind. Before all was said and done, we would need their help.

  Right now, I wanted to know them, to understand their purpose. "Does Marduk send you out to hunt often?"

  When the Goddess Tiamat made war with the lesser Gods, believing they murdered her consort, her armies lost the battle. Marduk split Tiamat asunder and captured her general, Kingu. She'd created twelve races of demi-Gods to fight for her, and when she was defeated, they became enslaved by Marduk. They remained shackled to him to this day. Tiamat had tasked Tristan, Ushna, and me with freeing them, but first I needed to understand their situation to better know how to set them free. Could we do so without bloodshed or war? I didn't know. I hoped so, but I wouldn't hold my breath.

  Leora paled. "Not on such a large scale. He felt the surge of Her power twice. Since then, we've concluded it had to be you and Her Voice. The two of you smell like her. Now that She's called the Heart to Her, the legend will come to pass. When the Heart is reborn, Marduk will be roused from his slumber. Maressa will have returned and given her report of the wolf prince barring our path. He'll want to see the disturbance for himself, and he'll punish us demons who failed him." Before Leora finished speaking, her companions were already nodding their heads, expressions grim.

  "Maressa is the one Tristan sent back to Marduk with a message?" Leora confirmed my guess with a sharp nod.

  I plucked at the grass between my feet, thinking. How soon would Marduk come to investigate? Wanting Tristan by my side when I asked the hard questions, I turned my curiosity to the term Leora used. "Why do you call yourselves demons? That is a relatively new—modern—term." The Igigi War happened ages before the terms angel or demon were created.

  "All of us who were shackled to Marduk were labeled as demons, the opposite of the Gods because we were brought low. Though we carry the same blood as they, and are the children of a Goddess, we are charged with guarding the many gates to the Gods' heaven and the other sacred places but never allowed to take our rest there. Marduk uses us as beasts of burden, riding u
pon us to show his mighty power to the assembly. We are forbidden to dine at the table of the Gods. We have spent many millennia as his slaves, trophies to display, humiliated and fettered." Leora bit off her words with a vehemence she hadn't displayed until then. The group at her back bowed their heads, in many cases hiding anger or fear as she spoke.

  Obviously, there was no love lost between Tiamat's children and Marduk. "Tristan told me what happened when he first met you. Why did Maressa, the one he sent back to Marduk, antagonize him as she did?" I wanted to understand why someone would side with Marduk if his treatment of them was so terrible.

  "Marduk holds our loved ones, people he'll punish in our stead. He is a proud, boastful God. None will find forgiveness at his feet until he exacts his price. He's only benevolent when the situation suits him or for some purpose he has in mind. He's been slumbering for several decades, growing his power. With the decline of belief in the human world, all the Sumerian Gods have weakened, some more than others." Many nodded their heads in agreement, but there were a few who looked as if they would add more to her statement. What else did they know?

  "So Marduk has been resting to what? Conserve his energy?" Many Gods were dependent on faith, and when their followers lessened, they weakened as belief in them died or was diverted to another religion. But how did an old God, a pretty much forgotten God such as Marduk, regain power?

  Leora glanced to her companions. Their expressions turned sheepish, some filled with shame. Many couldn't quite meet my eye.

  Dread built the longer silence reigned. "Leora, what aren't you telling me?"

  She sighed heavily, as if she heaved off a great burden. "You asked if he sent us out often. For the most part, we're responsible for enforcing his laws among our kind, but during the last several decades, he has ordered teams to bring him certain humans. At first, we couldn't comprehend why. Marduk has always used humans for his own means and then tossed them aside, happily watching them grovel for his mercy. But those he's summoned to him, Marduk coddles. It wasn't until later that we realized—"