Read Online Rock Hard by LJ Vickery - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: LJ Vickery
Tags: Erotic Romance
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memories and match the essence of the girl to something familiar. When that familiar thing turned out to be Enlil, his least favorite of all the immortals, he grimaced and went over his options.
He could go to the girl’s home—it would be easy to track her now that he had her scent—and take her, but Ereshkigal would object to him wielding his powers directly on a mortal. He was pretty sure that was forbidden in their original agreement. He needed others to do his dirty deeds. Could he play somewhat fairly and still win?
He wanted to be the victor in this battle of wills with his wife, but still craved the respect of his queen and knew if he succumbed to temptation and grabbed the girl himself, he would be denied his wife’s attention for many hundreds, perhaps even thousands of years more. This he was not willing to risk.
No, he was sure he had figured out the rules of this new challenge that she had set forth. Each god would now be given another mortal to protect, just as they had been given Thomas Morton in the seventeenth century; and where they had failed at that task, he needed to make sure they would fail again. But to keep Ereshkigal happy, he would have to delegate the nastier tasks that needed to be performed. As before, he and Ereshkigal could manipulate and bring other beings into the contest, but would refrain from entering to skew things in their own favor.
In a way, Nergal hated what he was going to do next. He pretty much hated everything about the immortal he was about to call on for help. Dagon was a pain in the ass. One of the original thirteen gods indentured to Morton and brought over to Merrymount from England, he had quickly distinguished himself as evil and self-serving, siding with Morton’s partner-turned-enemy, Captain Richard Wollaston, who had subsequently been driven from the colony.
After Dagon also abandoned Merrymount, he had helped Nergal’s cause by fomenting hatred in the hearts of Myles Standish’s Puritans living nearby. Morton and the gods had eventually been vanquished by these Puritans. As a testimony to the ego that had consumed him, Dagon then convinced Myles Standish to change the name of Merrymount to Mount Dagon. Nergal had been amused when the name only lasted for a few years. The colony had eventually collapsed due to drought and famine.
When Dagon’s usefulness was done, Nergal had been more than happy to put him into deep stasis in an underground cave not far from where the other gods had set up their living quarters, all the while realizing that the immortal might be useful to him in the future. Well, the future was here, and it was time to awaken the bastard god.
Nergal sent powerful energy surging earthward, waves rippling up through the substrata that mortals would sense as a small earthquake, but the gods would know it for what it was. He laughed, thinking of the petty scrambling it would have them performing. “A meeting,” Nergal mimicked. “We have to call a meeting!” It seemed to be Marduk’s answer for any adversity that beset his group. Well, let the god call all the meetings they wanted. It wouldn’t help him this time. “Rise Dagon,” Nergal commanded. “Rise again and defeat your enemies!”
Dagon stirred in his underground sanctuary. He stretched his reanimated limbs and shook centuries of detritus off his body, where it had coated him in sleep.
Awake, he thought. Alive! Musty air entered his lungs, but he didn’t care. His body was moving again, and it could only be that Nergal was calling to him for another chance at gaining an immortal life on earth…not the cursed immortal sleep from which he had just been awakened.
“Nergal,” he called, wincing at the painful vibration of larynx long dormant. “What task do you wish me to perform?” His eyes glowed with anticipation as Nergal sent into his brain everything he needed to know. A delighted chuckle escaped when he found it was a female of Enlil’s blood he would have to
He could go to the girl’s home—it would be easy to track her now that he had her scent—and take her, but Ereshkigal would object to him wielding his powers directly on a mortal. He was pretty sure that was forbidden in their original agreement. He needed others to do his dirty deeds. Could he play somewhat fairly and still win?
He wanted to be the victor in this battle of wills with his wife, but still craved the respect of his queen and knew if he succumbed to temptation and grabbed the girl himself, he would be denied his wife’s attention for many hundreds, perhaps even thousands of years more. This he was not willing to risk.
No, he was sure he had figured out the rules of this new challenge that she had set forth. Each god would now be given another mortal to protect, just as they had been given Thomas Morton in the seventeenth century; and where they had failed at that task, he needed to make sure they would fail again. But to keep Ereshkigal happy, he would have to delegate the nastier tasks that needed to be performed. As before, he and Ereshkigal could manipulate and bring other beings into the contest, but would refrain from entering to skew things in their own favor.
In a way, Nergal hated what he was going to do next. He pretty much hated everything about the immortal he was about to call on for help. Dagon was a pain in the ass. One of the original thirteen gods indentured to Morton and brought over to Merrymount from England, he had quickly distinguished himself as evil and self-serving, siding with Morton’s partner-turned-enemy, Captain Richard Wollaston, who had subsequently been driven from the colony.
After Dagon also abandoned Merrymount, he had helped Nergal’s cause by fomenting hatred in the hearts of Myles Standish’s Puritans living nearby. Morton and the gods had eventually been vanquished by these Puritans. As a testimony to the ego that had consumed him, Dagon then convinced Myles Standish to change the name of Merrymount to Mount Dagon. Nergal had been amused when the name only lasted for a few years. The colony had eventually collapsed due to drought and famine.
When Dagon’s usefulness was done, Nergal had been more than happy to put him into deep stasis in an underground cave not far from where the other gods had set up their living quarters, all the while realizing that the immortal might be useful to him in the future. Well, the future was here, and it was time to awaken the bastard god.
Nergal sent powerful energy surging earthward, waves rippling up through the substrata that mortals would sense as a small earthquake, but the gods would know it for what it was. He laughed, thinking of the petty scrambling it would have them performing. “A meeting,” Nergal mimicked. “We have to call a meeting!” It seemed to be Marduk’s answer for any adversity that beset his group. Well, let the god call all the meetings they wanted. It wouldn’t help him this time. “Rise Dagon,” Nergal commanded. “Rise again and defeat your enemies!”
Dagon stirred in his underground sanctuary. He stretched his reanimated limbs and shook centuries of detritus off his body, where it had coated him in sleep.
Awake, he thought. Alive! Musty air entered his lungs, but he didn’t care. His body was moving again, and it could only be that Nergal was calling to him for another chance at gaining an immortal life on earth…not the cursed immortal sleep from which he had just been awakened.
“Nergal,” he called, wincing at the painful vibration of larynx long dormant. “What task do you wish me to perform?” His eyes glowed with anticipation as Nergal sent into his brain everything he needed to know. A delighted chuckle escaped when he found it was a female of Enlil’s blood he would have to
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