He'd failed to act decisively for fear of Damian's involvement and judgment, and Ashley was suffering because of it. If he couldn't protect those he loved, what good was he as a god? What good was all his power if he feared using it?
His fear, and his ego, had nearly crippled him, and he wasn't going to let that kind of weakness happen again.
Jonny felt the last piece of the puzzle click in to place. His fear faded away, taking with it the remnants of the inner turmoil present since he'd taken his place as the Black God. He had chosen to hide rather than face his enemy, and he was never going down that path again.
He was the Black God. If he had it his way, he was going to remain so for all of eternity.
The blast of red flame and lightning flattened everything around him in a flash of radiance accompanied by a roar. Jonny shielded his eyes to the brightness.
Finally, the world around him fell silent and still, and he lowered his arm. Nothing stood for as far as he could see. The world was smoking and black with flares of red lightning.
Dizziness stemming from fatigue washed over him, and he hugged Ashley to him. She alone was untouched by his power, protected by him, from him, but only because he'd had to render her dead.
"Ashley," he whispered and touched her gently. He had no read on her whatsoever. She was, according to even his godly senses, dead.
Jonny scooped her up. He didn't hesitate to go where he knew he had to this time. He was never going to hesitate again when it came to Ashley or his responsibilities. He was never going to let his fear get in his way again.
He Traveled to the Guardians headquarters in Texas and stood before the gates once more.
An hour after throwing the Guardians' compound into chaos, Jonny paced in front of the White God's massive ranch house under the careful watch of Guardians he ignored. His gaze strayed more than once to the corral of farm animals he suspected his sister had rescued.
He was starving, and he wasn't above draining animals since humans and Guardians were out of the question. His wounds had stopped bleeding, but he was conserving his remaining energy. He wouldn't have the power to heal until he'd eaten. His phone buzzed with constant texts from Charles, and he checked the latest updates.
Survivors: four hundred and nine. Valon's vamps wiped out. Brandon delivered to Xander.
Jonny paused in his pacing. He'd lost over nine thousand vamps in his first five years. The enormity of the loss hit him hard. He stood, gazing into the dark sky, the weight of an entire race of people on his shoulders, and the knowledge he felt whole enough to carry it only when Ashley was at his side.