The Black God - Page 67/187

His mind slipped to Bianca, his sister, who had become the mate of one of the adopted brothers of Damian. He saw her on occasion though not often, mainly because of the opposite sides of the fence they sat on. Whenever he started to doubt himself, he thought about the day he'd almost lost her, and the doubt vanished.

He was destined to become the Black God. He was meant to be there, not Valon. Why the universe chose a boy over a vamp, he'd never understand, but he no longer asked himself why anymore and focused instead on how to fulfill his vision for the vamps' future.

Charles was watching him, waiting for him to speak. Jonny straightened and dropped his arms, not about to feel backed into a corner when he'd worked too hard - and changed too much - to become who he was.

"I'll be traveling armed from now on," he said with a small smile. "And we'll be resuming my sparring lessons."

"Of course, ikir."

Jonny started past him, needing some alone time.

"Anything else?" Charles asked.

"Give me some time to think, Charles. You may be right about approaching Damian sooner rather than later."

Charles said nothing else, and Jonny retreated to his bedroom. He wasn't interested in the ginger this night, in sex, and he was full after feeding off Ashley. After gently suggesting his dinner sleep in a different room because he was ill, he closed the door behind the bedazzled woman.

Jonny went to his dresser and opened the top drawer, where he kept some weapons at Charles' insistence. He withdrew the long knife he'd used to kill his predecessor, Czerno, and studied it. Hefting it made the threat of Valon seem too real.

Tucking it into his waistband, he went onto his veranda.

He wasn't tired either and sat in the open, observing the clear sky and gleaming reflection of stars off the distant waves. Vamps were nocturnal, though he did his best to keep hours that left him mentally clear for any interactions with Guardians or humans.

Jonny sat in silence, unable to pinpoint exactly what his thoughts were about the Valon issue. He didn't feel anything he thought he should, and the lack of fear or anger or regret left him frustrated and confused. Despite his occasional loneliness, the memories of Bianca's near death, the idea he'd be working on his Masters degree if he were normal, he had unconditionally accepted what he was and his position as the leader of the blood-sucking monsters he didn't know existed before becoming their leader.

This acceptance, above all, surprised him more than discovering another godslayer was gunning for the job he wasn't about to give up. It dispelled any concern he had about his lot in life and left him proud of how much he'd grown over the years. Rather than worry about Valon, he experienced a renewed sense of confidence and purpose.