Blood Love (God Wars Book 4) by Connie Suttle

cards or bank accounts?" Ross asked. "To see where he went?"
    "None. The feds froze his accounts, anyway. I don't know where he is or whether he's still alive." James scrubbed his face with a hand and stared through the massive window of his office. "Those people," James turned to tap the folder Ross had given him, "burned down my son's house. They're probably still looking for him. You know which bodyguards to hire."
    "I do."
    "Ross, I don't care if this gets messy—for the opposition. Just make sure you come out of it clean."
    "I've done it before," Ross rose and stretched. "Hundred thousand to start? Those bodyguards don't come cheap."
    "Take a hundred fifty. I'll send more when you need it. Just get our money's worth. Find the kid, too, if you can."
    "I will." Ross nodded and walked out of James' office.
    * * *
    Le-Ath Veronis—present
    Lissa's Journal
    "Norian." I barely offered him a nod. Why he'd shown up in my study again, I hadn't a clue.
    "Lissa, I know I'm not welcome," he held up a hand to stop me from ordering him out of my palace. "But you need to see this." He set a comp-vid on my desk and tapped it.
    "What the fuck?" I stared at image after image in dismay. Hundreds of bodies littered a stone floor. "Where the hell did that happen?"
    "Frithia. An entire religion committed suicide. No note or any reason for it. Nothing."
    "How?" I tapped the button to enlarge and carefully examine images.
    "Poison. A slow-acting one, so these weren't easy deaths."
    "I can see that." I could. Faces were contorted in pain. They'd died horribly—all of them. "How many?" I asked.
    "Three thousand."
    "Are you joking?" I stared at photographs of the dead.
    "This religion hasn't existed very long. Their premise is that they believe someone will collect them when they die."
    "A lot of religions believe that," I pointed out.
    "But this one believes that they will be placed in charge when they arrive at their destination."
    "Great. Fucking wonderful," I sighed. "What idiot told them that?"
    "That's just it—we can't find him."
    "Even better. What's his name? What does he look like?"
    "Here." Norian touched the comp-vid again, bringing up an image of a blond male. "We don't have a name," he grumped.
    "Doesn't look like much," I observed. "Looks like he's seriously undertall and slightly overweight."
    "Both true. But he has charisma, according to a few we've spoken with."
    "Yeah? Hitler wasn't much to look at, either."
    "Hitler?"
    "Norian, I'm getting you a history book from Earth for Christmas."
    "Not that idiotic holiday again," he sighed. "Sorry," he held up his hands when I glared at him. "It's perfectly harmless. I agree. I have no problem with it, I promise."
    "What are you going to do about this?" I tapped his comp-vid. "Mr. Charisma could be on another planet, plotting out the same scenario."
    "That's why I came to you. Will you help me, breah-mul? I really need special assistance with this."
    "I'll think about it," I grumbled. If the victims had all been adults, I might not have considered it. I'd seen multiple images of children in those pictures Norian provided, and their deaths had been awful. Whoever was responsible for this deserved to die.
    "Let me know soon, Cheah-mul. Frithia wants an answer for this."
    "Yeah, Norian. I get that."
    * * *
    Breanne's Journal
    "Hey." Trajan brushed hair back from my forehead the moment my eyes opened. Disorientation clouded my mind as I desperately searched for where and when I was. At least I recognized Trajan's face as he leaned over me. A smile curved his lips, and I sighed. Trajan was handsome in anybody's book.
    "You have a nice mouth," I reached up to touch it gently with my fingers.
    "I want this mouth all over you," the smile turned into a grin and Trajan's dark eyes glinted with mischief.
    "That sounds really good," I sighed. "Mostly, though, I want your arms around me." I did. Trajan's arms were thick with muscle, as was the rest of him.
    "You do?" Trajan chuckled softly.