Chapter 1
The Badass
“Here kitty, kitty.” I psst psspt’d into the dark.
It was three in the morning, and I prowled through the back alleys behind the Vegas hotels that served the best breakfast buffets. The pungent odor of rotting shellfish, meats, and sweets grew so intense, my eyes watered and I had to hold my breath.
Why was I here?
Because I was hunting a god spawn.
A dangerous divine being that chose to stay in his primordial animal form. And the last thing Vegas needed was for humans to run into an otherworldly creature with fangs and realize gods and monsters walked among them.
Grim, my former boss and god of the dead, shared that my target’s name was Sheshem, a lion-like spawn of the goddess Sekhmet. Unlike Sheshem’s distant, vampiric ancestor, this fanged creature had a sweet tooth for syrup and an appetite for shrimp—raw, fried, you name it.
Back in the ancient days, the big scary cat god spawn had inadvertently released a plague of darkness on the earth so he could extend his hunting grounds, and the only way to stop him had been to kill him and his connection to the dark plague.
But in the present day and age, he seemed quite happy with his hunting forays in the city of Las Vegas. He mainly left a trail of ravaged dumpsters, metal peeled back in strips.
While Sheshem’s return to this world hadn’t caused anything so dramatic like a plague, he was a dangerous entity that couldn’t be allowed to roam free.
And Sheshem only set his paws on this earth again because of me. Guilt sliced through me as I paced up and down the stinking alleyway. I deliberately opened a dumpster to attract Sheshem’s delicate and discerning senses. The longer I waited in the dark, the more antsy I got.
"Oh Bob, I wish you'd give me a few words of encouragement," I whispered to the blade I held erect, ready to slay or defend myself. The sword remained stubbornly silent, causing a pang of guilt to spear through my gut.
It’s my fault the Blade of Bane didn’t speak anymore.
At first, I was freaked out to have a psychic connection to a weapon with a French accent and a strong aversion to blood, but I’d grown accustomed to having him in my head.
His silence was only another damning side effect of my massive mistake. One that stole Bob’s voice and released Sheshem into the world.
A low rumble vibrated through the air, resonating from the deep, shadow-clad recesses of the alley. My pulse quickened, a tumult of adrenaline and foreboding surging through my veins. I tightened my hold on the blade as I retreated several steps, my gaze piercing the darkness in anticipation.
The moment stretched, taut with expectation, until the shadows themselves seemed to shift and coalesce. From their depths, Sheshem emerged into the scant light of the moon.
My breath hitched, caught between awe and fear. Its fur, if one could call it that, shimmered with a spectral quality, translucent and flowing like liquid obsidian, edged with a luminescence that hinted at otherworldly origins. Its eyes, twin orbs of chaotic energy, burned with a fierce intensity, a swirling maelstrom of colors that defied the natural order.
I felt small, vulnerable—every inch the mortal I was.
But I wielded the most powerful weapon in the world, the Blade of Bane, aka Bob, the only sword that could kill a god. My duty was to make penance for my mistake as well as protect this world, and I’d fulfill those responsibilities no matter what.
As I reoriented myself, blade in hand, all I could think was:Bring it on, Sheshem.
Fangs bared, the god spawn roared—a sound that was a grotesque cross between a lion's roar and impossibly, a rattlesnake. It lunged, and my blade swung up, narrowly blocking its claw from my face. I staggered, almost tripping over some errant trash.
Dodging another claw swipe, I managed to thrust my blade toward its face. But Sheshem dodged with such speed, it was like trying to spear a shadow. It leapt at me, and I jumped back. Myhead smacked against brick with a sickening crack. My vision turned black for a second as dizzying pain exploded in my brain.
I was cornered against a graffiti-covered wall. Sheshem readied to pounce, its claws fully extended, eyes locked on me like the final piece of shrimp on a brunch platter. This was it. I was going to die at the paws of a pancake-loving, kitty-cat god.
A blur of motion swept through my peripheral vision, landing between me and my would-be killer.
It wasn't an illusion. A figure landed in front of me, a barely contained tempest of power and agility. For a moment, the world fell away, and there was only the silhouette bathed in moonlight, standing like a sentinel ready to protect me from certain death—Xander.
The man—the god—I lost everything for.
Chapter 2
The Badass
