Reluctant Gods Read online

  Table of Contents

  The World of the Awakening

  Preface

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  The Awakening Series, Book 3

  Dear Reader

  Reluctant Gods

  Keri Armstrong

  Highland Publishing, LLC

  Sign up for Keri’s newsletter at https://keriarmstrong.com/contact/ to be notified of new releases and free books.

  Copyright  2016 Keri Armstrong

  Highland Publishing, LLC

  Cover: Sterling Design Studios

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  For permission requests, email: [email protected]

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Reluctant Gods/ Keri Armstrong. -- 1st ed.

  The World of the Awakening

  Series Order:

  1: Mutts Like Me – available now

  2: Reluctant Gods – available now

  3: Nightingale – February 2018

  4: Midnight Ink – Spring 2018

  Groups:

  Awakened/Sleepers – An ancient race of highly advanced, gifted humans, dating back hundreds of thousands of years and spread over many continents. They were technologically advanced beyond our modern world, and the originators of genetic experimentation.

  In philosophy, they were divided between those who believed that genetic manipulation and enslavement of lower species—including less developed humans—was justified, and those who disagreed.

  In advance of a world-wide catastrophe many millennia ago, they put themselves into stasis and appointed a few trusted Watchers to look after their sleeping forms. It was the Watchers’ duty had been to awaken them at a time when the earth would habitable again.

  Over time, some were awakened earlier than others. During those time periods, great advancements in civilization and technology were made, such as the Renaissance.

  The greatest awakening began in 1900, with ever more numbers growing from the 1930’s, which has been responsible for the most advancements in technology having taken place within only a few years, after millennia of human history.

  Those still in stasis are called Sleepers.

  Watchers – Genetically or technologically enhanced creatures or humans who were trusted to look after the Sleepers and awaken them at the appropriate time.

  Mutts – The hybrid offspring of the genetic experiments the Awakened created and humans, or Awakened and their own creations.

  Resisters – Those among the Sleepers and Awakened, the Watchers, and Mutts who oppose the rest of the Awakened’s plan to rule the earth and enslave the remainder of humankind and hybrids.

  Individual Characters, Books 1 and 2:

  Alejandro – Mutt. Alpha werewolf, father of Marti; introduced in Mutts Like Me. Helps train and lead a gang of Mutt resisters who are fighting the Awakened.

  Alex – Mutt. Vampire/Kitsune trickster hybrid, cousin of Toshio. Introduced in Mutts Like Me.

  Allison (Allie) – Friend of Phoebe, Sara, and Caleb; introduced in Reluctant Gods.

  Ammon – Son of an Awakened and a human slave; a Watcher who loved Izzara, an ancient princess. Introduced in Reluctant Gods.

  Azkuran – A powerful member among the Awakened; was considered by humans to be a giant at over 7 feet tall. Introduced in Reluctant Gods.

  Caleb – Mutt. Witch/werewolf hybrid, twin to Cassandra, mother is Nia, a witch. Father unknown. Is a talented and powerful witch but has trouble shifting.

  Cassandra – Mutt. Witch/werewolf hybrid, twin to Caleb, mother is Nia, a Witch. Father unknown. Is a strong shifter but has trouble casting spells.

  Cian – A giant member of the Awakened. Introduced in Reluctant Gods.

  Gabriel Lara – Business owner and business partner of Laurent (Jean Marc Laurent). Introduced in Mutts Like Me.

  Jean Marc Laurent – Business owner and business partner of Gabriel Lara. Introduced in Mutts Like Me

  Kiya – A giant member of the Awakened. Introduced in Reluctant Gods.

  Liang – A giant member of the Awakened. Introduced in Reluctant Gods.

  Marti – Mutt. Daughter of werewolf father, Alex, and human mother. Introduced in Mutts Like Me.

  Nadia - Mutt/almost pure shifter. Blind sister of Nathan. Introduced in Reluctant Gods.

  Nathan – Mutt/almost pure shifter. Friend of Phoebe, brother to Nadia. Introduced in Reluctant Gods.

  Nia – Mutt. Powerful witch. Mother of Cass and Caleb, friend of Marti’s father, Alejandro. Introduced in Mutts Like Me.

  Phoebe – Cousin of Sara, heir to ancient artifacts, studies Witchcraft. Phoebe’s story is told in Reluctant Gods.

  Sara – Cousin of Phoebe, joint heir to ancient artifacts, studies Witchcraft. Introduced in Reluctant Gods.

  Sunjoo – Dragon shifter. Introduced in Mutts Like Me.

  Toshio – Mutt. Fox shifter, cousin of Alex, friend of Marti, Cass, and Caleb. Introduced in Mutts Like Me.

  Contents

  The World of the Awakening

  Preface

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  The Awakening Series, Book 3

  Dear Reader

  Preface

  AMMON

  The oracle promised Izzara would return. Promised she would come back to me with the same face so I would know her again. Promised she’d come with a protector to see her through the dangerous passages.

  Too many millennia I have waited for her return. Too many thousands of years have I been disappointed. Now that the Sleepers are ready to awaken, I am afraid it is too late. Izzara’s soul will never return.

  They will not allow it.

  One

  PHOEBE

  The loud of thump of books hitting the counter pulled my attention away from the bottom shelf I’d been dusting. After rising from my crouched position, I saw the beard first. At least six inches long, light brown, and braided. It was nestled between two large, fluffy tassels, which were attached to crocheted cords that led up to large brown earflaps. Above this, two teddy-bear ears stuck out on either side of the
home-made woolen cap.

  My lips twitched when I noticed him staring at me like I was the funny-looking one. He was at least six feet tall and wearing a hat that a three-year-old would covet.

  Hiding both my frustration and amusement, I took his library card and processed his books. When I pushed them over the counter to him with one hand, he kept looking at my other arm. The one without a hand. I tried to smile, nonetheless.

  “Due back in six weeks,” I said, momentarily drawing his gaze back up to my face, where it skittered away quickly.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled. Then, as if remembering himself, he forced a smile before turning to leave.

  I waited until he was out the door before going to lock up behind him. I leaned against the sturdy wood for a moment, breathing in the cool air that had seeped in as he left. The tingling scent of oncoming snow filled the air and I took a deep breath to revive myself before returning to work.

  I left off dusting behind the counter and went into the main book section. I let out a contented little sigh. The library is comforting after dark. A haven. Once all the other students return to wherever they go, I can spend a few minutes alone with the books, running my fingers over their spines, and drinking in their scents without people staring at me. I love the feel, the smell of books; I hate being stared at, whispered about, even though I’ve been stared at my whole life.

  It’s funny how looking different freaks other people out. I may not be beautiful like my cousin Sara, but I’m still human; I still have feelings. Even so, it’s clear that all people see when they look at me is something that makes them extremely uncomfortable, whether they try to hide it or not.

  I’m not sure which is worse—those who are openly repelled, or those who visibly try to overcome their discomfort with furtive eye contact and weak smiles.

  Like the Bearded Wonder in the teddy-bear hat.

  Oh, well. You’d think I’d be used to it by now. I was born with just one hand, but that hand was enough to pull a pot of hot oil off the stove and onto my head when I was three years old. The entire left side of my head, face, neck, and shoulder is basically a rough map of scars. My left eye and ear were also lost to the oil.

  For those who are brave enough to ask what happened, I just tell them that the accident was pretty bad, but I’m all right now. I can usually make friends with those who get the joke. Although, technically, I am not all right—I do still have my left hand. But I wear a wig to cover the bald side of my head and missing ear, with bangs covering where an eye used to be but is now just fused scar tissue. I don’t think even the kind ones could look at me for any length of time if I didn’t—another reason why it’s nice to have the library to myself.

  I made my way toward the back storage area, pushing the squeaky book cart. I had to stop a couple of times to shelve a few out-of-place books that I encountered on the way. It was irritating to discover some of the books had been packed so tightly it was almost impossible for me to squeeze the others in. I had to tug out a few to make room and they tumbled to the floor. I mumbled a few choice words about the lazy so-and-so’s who can’t be bothered to put stuff back where it belongs. I had to do my one-handed best to get everything in order before continuing my trek to put away the cart.

  My shoulders were knotted after that struggle. I shrugged to loosen them and rolled my neck a couple of times. Lately, I’ve been staying after work just to keep from going home and facing the fact that I’m more alone than I’ve ever been. All but one of my relatives are dead, and the one who lives—my beautiful cousin Sara—left for the University of Arizona last year. I miss her with an ache that leaves my stomach in knots. She’s been my best and closest friend my entire life. I’ve not had many friends outside of her, and most of the ones I do have, I’ve met through her. Now that she’s gone, it gets pretty lonely. Being introverted by nature on top of everything else makes it a little difficult to connect with others.

  The weekends are especially hard, so I linger over the books a little longer on Fridays. Once I lock up here and get home, I can just go straight to bed and then sleep late on Saturday. That way, I’ve only got a day and a half to get through.

  I perked up a little, remembering that this weekend should go by fairly quickly, though, with new books to read tomorrow, then Sunday’s Cakes and Ale ceremony. A couple of our Wiccan friends who were still in town are going to be meeting at Gran’s—no, make that meeting at my place this weekend. I bought the house with my portion of the insurance money from her passing. Prior to that, we were only renting. Even before most of them passed, our family as a whole tended to be a bit nomadic, moving almost every year.

  I wanted a little stability for a change. It’s hard enough being the new kid in school every year. Try being the one-handed, one-eyed, one-eared, scar-faced new kid in school.

  But now I had a permanent place, where I could do what I wanted, including practice a bit of spell casting in peace.

  Can’t help but think my poor grandmother must be turning over in her grave right now. She hated anything to do with magic. Wouldn’t even let us read the Harry Potter books when we were kids, as if they might somehow give us ideas. Of course, we snuck and read them anyway.

  I shook off the thoughts and tried to focus on the tasks at hand. I put away the book cart and did a quick visual sweep of the area. Since I didn’t see anyone in the immediate vicinity, I figured it would be a good time to do my homework. I got my backpack and chose an area close to the check-out desks in case there were any lingering students I hadn’t seen.

  Since I had a bit of work to do, I took out an energy drink I’d packed away earlier. Setting it on the table, I pulled at the ring top until it popped open with a satisfying little snick. I drew a long pull from the slim can, the cool liquid refreshing against my tongue, and looked out at the darkness beyond the window. I grimaced as the light from inside the library caused my reflection to stare back at me in the darkened glass.

  Guess I’d better get back to improving the inside of my head, because there’s nothing to be done about the outside.

  I let out a small sigh. I was branded. Branded by nature and my own childish curiosity which had caused the accident, but as nature abhors a vacuum, I’d also been just as gifted by nature with considerable intellect and intuition.

  Sara was almost the opposite—branded by great beauty and mediocre intellect.

  Whoah!

  That thought pulled me back. Since when do I hate on Sara?

  Never, I reminded myself. It’s true that she’s more of a “B” or “C” student, but she’s not stupid. And she’s as kind as she is pretty.

  Sara was easily most beautiful girl our town had ever seen; really, one of the prettiest anywhere. I never saw anybody who could touch her in looks, nor any beautiful girl so absolutely unconscious of just how attractive she was. She was truly modest. And kind.

  And as for her mind, she’s funny and quick witted, but it’s true that she’s not exactly a scholar. Gran had followed our parent’s unusual instructions regarding our education—that is, supplementing our public education with private tutoring in the classics and Egyptian history. They’d also required us to have a solid understanding of Latin, and to speak, read, and write Greek, Arabic, and Spanish. To top off those fun topics, we also were supposed to learn some of the ancient cuneiform and uncial script. Those lessons came fairly easily to me, so I helped my cousin when she needed it.

  Feeling guilty about my disloyal thoughts, I turned my attention back to my book. A shuffling noise from behind caused me to jump, my heart picking up speed since I’d thought I was alone. I turned swiftly at the sound of footsteps then relaxed. It was just Nathan—a student in one of my classes, and a sort-of friend. I smiled as he neared. He was always so serious. Perhaps because he bore scars around his jaw and neck nearly as bad as mine, although his appeared to be from some type of animal attack. I’d never asked, and he’d never asked about mine. We just shared a silent kinship. Ours was a funny, quiet littl
e friendship. The first I’d made on my own.

  Tonight he was looking a little unkempt as always. Thick, wavy, chestnut brown hair stood in tufts where he’d likely run his hands through it, and the shabby, military green coat he wore was pulled up around his face. In spite of the scars, his face was handsome and his eyes always drew me in. They were large and golden brown, surrounded by dark lashes so long and thick it should be illegal for men to have them. He wasn’t tall—maybe only five-six or so—but the air of gravitas he always wore made him seem taller, as did his lean, muscular frame.

  And still taller than my five-two.

  “Hey, Nathan.” I waved. “Didn’t see you back there.”

  A small, solemn nod. “On my way out. Be careful going home.”

  “You, too.” I smiled and turned back to my book. Not a man of many words, that Nate.

  A little after eleven, the last two stragglers had appeared (nearly scaring me to death again) then left, and it was past time for me to leave, as well. I quit delaying the inevitable and zipped into my puffy down coat, pulled on my glove using my teeth, then wriggled into my backpack. I opened the front door of the library and gasped when the wind hit my face.

  The frigid night air mocked the fact that it was the end of March, stubbornly holding onto the Chicagoland area’s tradition that winter doesn’t have to end here just because spring has arrived in the rest of the country. Our weather takes extreme pride in being unpredictable.

  Braving the cold, I went the rest of the way out and locked the door behind. I slipped a little on the top step as I went down, and would have fallen completely if a pair of arms hadn’t appeared out of nowhere to hold me up. My pounding heart didn’t know which was more frightening: the near fall, or the fact that I hadn’t seen anyone else on the steps.

  As I caught my breath, a deep voice—almost a growl—asked, “Are you all right?”

  I stifled a hysterical giggle. The old “All Right” joke. Slays me every time. I turned to see who was holding me and blinked. He was huge. I couldn’t make out his face since his hat was pulled low and the light was behind him, but there was something not quite right about how he was put together—arms too long, shoulders unusually broad and hunched.