Four years after "Xander's Chance"
The twenty-four-year-old Black God, Jonny Rodriguez, towered over the purple-eyed, supernatural Other sprawled at his feet. Charged energy rolled off him into the plains of South Dakota, and the cool spring night did nothing to soothe the fiery power in his blood.
"Last one," said the man beside him. The Grey God, Darian, waited for Jonny to give the signal. Only a couple of people alive could kill one of the creatures at his feet, though Jonny's godlike powers could definitely stop one in its tracks long enough for his temporary ally to crush it.
There was a time when Jonny would have reacted to the Grey God's pronouncement with triumph if not joy. But the grueling war with the Others - the enemies of humans, immortals and gods alike - had all but decimated his army of vampires. Of the ten thousand vamps serving him when he ascended to his position five years before, less than fifteen hundred remained. His all out war had cost him almost everything. He'd watched the creatures he was charged with defending die around him on a daily basis, and it numbed the part of him capable of feeling.
His objective to destroy those who hurt or killed what was his to protect replaced every other concern. Nothing else existed outside of ensuring the enemies of his vamps were wiped off the planet. Nothing else mattered except demolishing his own personal resentment and anger, and what was left of his humanity, for the greater good of the vamps.
On the eve of his victory, he was … cold. Empty. He gazed down into the glassy eyes of the Other trapped beneath his power and couldn't help thinking about tomorrow when there was no enemy for him to hunt and slaughter. His mind had shifted to the thought of the future the moment he realized the war with the Others was already won.
As he stared at the Other, he realized he'd already moved on. The last death, the last enemy, meant little to him anymore, except possibly to serve as a warning of what might happen to his own vamps if he didn't act quickly to deal with the White God, Damian, when this was over.
His stomach grumbled. With little sleep or food for months, he was accustomed to running on empty. The last Other did hold some meaning - it would become his first real meal in too long.
Jonny reached down and gripped the neck of the five foot tall creature. He hauled it to its feet, salivating at the rapid thrum of its heartbeat beneath his fingers. His fangs grew in anticipation. The Other squirmed, and Darian stood to the side, waiting.