Beauty's War (Gods Reborn Book 1) Read online

  Beauty’s War

  A Gods Reborn Novel

  Anna Edwards

  Claire Marta

  Contents

  Dear Reader

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  About Claire Marta

  Also by Claire Marta

  About Anna Edwards

  Also by Anna Edwards

  Copyright © 2018 by Anna Edwards & Claire Marta

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  www.clairemartawritesbooks.wordpress.com

  www.AuthorAnnaEdwards.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase.

  Disclaimer: Please do not try any sexual practice without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither the publisher nor the author will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury, or death resulting from the use of the information contained in this book.

  PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS BOOK IS A WORK OF FICTION, WHILE WE HAVE TRIED TO STICK TO THE ACCURACIES OF WHAT IS KNOWN ABOUT ROMAN MYTHOLOGY IT HAS NOT ALWAYS BEEN POSSIBLE, AND SOME LIBERTIES HAVE BEEN TAKEN TO ADJUST THE STORY AS REQUIRED.

  Cover Design by www.CharityHendry.com

  Editing by Tracy Roelle

  Formatting by Anna Edwards

  Proofreading by Sheena Taylor

  Beauty’s War/ Anna Edwards Claire Marta -- 1st ed.

  978-1718095397

  Created with Vellum

  Dear Reader

  “As we wander, grieving, in yet another dark moment, amid our pain we must struggle to remember the redemptive power of love and hope.”

  Ephraim Mirvis

  Chapter One

  MARS

  “Bloody arrogant assholes. Motherfucking cocksuckers.” I barge through the main entry doors of my firm and stomp loudly along the marble foyer, muttering to myself the entire time. “Waste of my fucking time - I should take my favorite spear and stick it so far up their asses when they open their mouths, you’ll be able to see the tip. I’ll show them for making me look a fool. They don’t call me the God of War for no reason.” I’m still bemoaning my fate when I get to the top floor of the building. It houses the directors of the law firm I work for—it’s my father’s firm. He’s Jupiter, the King of Gods. I slam into my office and slump down into my comfortable leather chair. A few seconds later, the door opens and my father stands there. He’s dressed, as always, in a superbly tailored pinstripe suit. His salt and pepper hair is immaculately styled. He shows no sign of the stress that I do. I bet if I looked in the mirror, my tie would be wonky, and my chestnut brown hair would be all over the place as though I’d been caught in a blizzard.

  “Didn't go well, then?” He smirks at me. I resist the urge to slam my fist into his face. It doesn’t seem to go down well with my father when I feel the need to flex my muscles in this way. Especially if it involves his face. Last time I did it, he banished me to Tartarus for a month to think about my misdemeanor. It really wasn’t as much fun as it sounds.

  “Pluto had his sniveling little underling, Orcus, there. The conniving little runt got the bastard, Marco, off. All charges were dropped. And to add insult to injury, the judge called me forward and said if I couldn’t set out a better case in the future, then I should reconsider my profession.” I put my head in my hands and groan. I can still see the smug smile on the defendant's face when the judge brought her hammer down and told him he was free to go. The man was a killer, a cold-blooded murderer who prayed on young women. He would take them back to his lair, strip them, and bind them with chains. He’d starve them for days until they were crazy with hunger, and then he’d rape them repeatedly before peeling the skin from their bodies while they died in agony. I had to look through thousands of pictures he took. How the judge found him innocent is beyond me. The guy had sold his soul to Pluto and his team. I hope he'll enjoy the rest of eternity in the Underworld with them. I just hope the poor helpless souls he murdered have found some peace up in the clouds of heaven.

  My father comes closer to my desk. I hear his heavy footsteps on the tiled floor. He places his hand on my back.

  “You did everything you could for those girls. We can’t fight the darker side of our profession, not until we are stronger. Pluto has the power now.”

  I sit upright in my chair and rub my temples.

  “We have to stop him. I hear it every day. The cries of war. It’s agonizing. I’m in so much pain all the time.”

  My father perches on the desk.

  “I hear it as well. You have to switch it off–it’s the only way to function.”

  “I can’t. I’m the God of War, Father. It calls to me.”

  “Don’t let it.”

  My struggle is daily and all too real. The Roman gods have been around since the inception of the Earth. We used to rule in the heavens, worshipped by the people, but over time, it changed, and we were forced into hiding. My father started up the law firm we work in, trying to help humanity. Unfortunately, Pluto, the God of the Underworld, set up a rival firm and uses his position to further his desire to turn the inhabitants of the world against each other. Many of the gods have forgotten who they are and have, for all intents and purposes, become humans. Their powers suppressed by a world full of darkness, hatred, violence, and suffering. They age, die, and are reborn, walking this Earth for eternity without the knowledge of who they are. As well as trying to prevent savages, like this rapist and murderer, get away with crimes, the firm is also a front for trying to find these human gods before Pluto does. My father and brother, Hercules, head up that division of our firm while my Aunt Juno and I run the front of a solicitor’s firm. We’re finding too often, though, the sides are clashing. One of the women killed was later discovered to be a goddess. We lost her, and she’s reborn again somewhere on this planet, but we have no hope of finding her or knowing what damage a brutal murder has done to her sub-consciousness.

  “Maybe I should go back up to the heavens for a while. It could be my presence on this planet is creating so much evil. Everyone senses the thirst for blood that comes from war and looks at how they can use it to create chaos.”

  “No.” My father’s voice booms. “You’re integral here, Mars. I'll not see you hide away with your tail between your legs. You’re an exceptional lawyer. The judge was probably on Pluto’s payroll. She treated you the way she did to m
ake you look bad. Persephone will return to the Underworld soon for her six months down there. Pluto will spend as little time on the surface as he can, then. He’ll be too interested in torturing his concubine. That'll be our time to strike. Orcus hangs off every word of Pluto’s. He won’t be able to control the firm without his mentor there. We just have to bide our time.”

  My father looks over the pile of folders on my desk. They’re cases I have coming up. They should all be easy wins as the defendants are monsters, but after today, I’m not holding out much hope for a victory in any of them.

  “Why don’t we swap you and Hercules around for a bit. He’s growing weary of searching daily for human gods and wants to spend a little more time with his wife. You’ve been tied to this office twenty-four seven, recently. I’m sure you have physical needs clouding your judgment as well.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “If you’re asking about Bellona, then no, I’ve not seen her in a few weeks.” Bellona is my adopted sister and Goddess of War. I know my father would love nothing more than for us to join together and create a formidable force, but it’s not like that between us. She’s not the person who captures my heart. We’re friends with benefits as the humans like to say. Mind you, as Roman gods, we’re a highly sexual bunch, and many of us have associates we often end up balls deep in. Male or female, there’s no discrimination.

  “Then go see her? Have a think on what I’ve said about swapping with Hercules for a while. A fresh pair of eyes in each department makes sense. It could give us the advantage we need to beat Pluto.”

  “No, I think the word you’re looking for there is called a miracle.”

  “We’re gods. We can create them.”

  I snort a sound of defeat.

  “I think we’ve all forgotten how to produce them it’s been so long.”

  Jupiter slides from my desk and picks up the pile of legal documents.

  “Father?” I wearily question.

  “No arguments. Go. Take the rest of the day off. I’ll deal with these for now until you’ve had a rest.”

  “Thank you,” I offer with loving affection to my father. We may have had our fights over the years, and our disagreements have threatened to change the course of history, but I know he wants what’s best for both the world and his children, no matter who the mother is. He leaves, and I sit back in my chair and shut my eyes. When I open them, I’m outside Bellona’s Tuscan villa on the outskirts of Florence. One of the perks of being a god is that we can just shut our eyes and think of a location and the magic that surrounds us will take us there. I knock, and she answers almost immediately. She’s wearing a long floaty white dress. It looks almost like one of the togas we’re famed for wearing but more modern.

  “Mars.” She presses a kiss to my lips, and I respond with warmth. “It’s been far too long.”

  “I’m sorry, Bel, I’ve been busy. A pretty nasty case.”

  “You win?” she asks with enthusiasm and leads me into a living room overlooking the vineyard hills of the region.

  When I look sheepishly at the floor and don’t answer, she instantly changes the subject.

  “I’ll get you some wine and olives. I’ve just picked the last of the harvest, and the wine’s local.”

  “I’m not hungry or thirsty, thank you.” The look crossing her face tells me she knows exactly why I’m here. I’m not just the God of War, I’m also the God of Masculinity. It’s left me highly sexually charged and needing to get my dick wet, often. It helps me function. When I find release, my endorphins are spread throughout the world. I literally invite people to make love, not war. My current mood is probably causing the upsurge of violence in the world, so I need to put a stop to it.

  “What do you want me to do?” Bellona licks her lips and comes to stand directly in front of me. She places a hand on my broad chest. I’m still dressed in my formal suit from the court.

  “Let’s start with you sucking me off to spread a bit of peace in the world, if even for only a few moments, and then we’ll see where the evening takes us.” I raise an eyebrow cockily at her. She knows full well I can go all night and not need a rest in between. You’ll never hear her complaining, though. She likes sex just as much as I do. Must be the juxtaposition of love and hate—make love not war, and all that crap humans spout just before they go and bomb or shoot someone.

  Bellona moves from where she is standing in front of me to a sofa and collects a silk cushion from it. She returns to me and places it down on the marbled floor and kneels.

  “I won’t be gentle,” I warn her. “I want you to take all of me. You don’t swallow until I say.”

  “Our relationship has never been about tender lovemaking, Mars. It doesn’t suit either of us,” she replies while undoing my belt, pulling the zipper of my dress pants down, and freeing my already hard cock. She strokes her hand up and down the length a few times before guiding it into her mouth. I feel my body instantly relax after the stresses of the day. The urge to maim, destroy, and kill leaving me just because I’ve sunk my dick into a warm and welcoming vessel. She runs her tongue over my tip, and I hiss. Damn, she gives good head, but tonight, she’s not quick enough. I need more. I need to take pleasure for myself, so I twist my hand around the long braid she’s tied her blond hair in. I pull it back hard, and my dick pops from her mouth. She whimpers in a little discomfort, but her eyes sparkle with her own arousal.

  “Don’t forget, I’m in charge here, cara mia. I’m going to use that pretty little mouth of yours to rid myself of the voices in my head.” Her response has my dick jumping from joy because she submits to me entirely and opens her mouth wider. It’s the go-ahead I need to fuck her face and get myself off. I use the hair twisted around my hand to pull her backward and forward over my length. Contrary to popular belief, and all the statues in the famous museums, gods are very well endowed. Every time I bring her lips to my hilt, she gags beautifully. The sound turns me on even more, and before long, my balls are tightening, and the hot stream of my release is rushing down my length and into her mouth. She’s choking on me but not swallowing. Bellona obeys my rules always, for she knows I’m superior to her. Arrogant I know, but I’m a god, what do you expect!

  I still, the tip of my cock resting on her lips. My cum spills out of her mouth and down her chin. I’m breathing heavily. My release was ferocious and much needed. I listen for the voices in my head, and I can see by the way her eyes go black Bellona is doing the same. Battle cries are silenced, no war, just the erotic call of thousands finding release from pent up stresses and frustrations. I savor the beautiful melody–it’s a symphony to the world and should be the only tune that’s ever played. It doesn’t last, though, for in the background, the cries of pain and suffering resurface like the horses pounding through Funeralia in Liszt's famous piece of music, Armonie Poetiche e Religiose.

  I cry out in sympathy for the suffering in the world. Bellona wails. Tears tumble down her cheeks as the voices return to her head.

  “Swallow,” I command. She does so. I’ll use her to take the torment of my emotions, entwined so intimately with my sexuality, and bury them deep inside her. We’ll beat Pluto and his men. We’ll save the human gods and make it all right in the world again. If only it were that simple.

  Chapter Two

  VICKY

  Groaning softly, I stretch, trying to relieve the crick in my neck. The heat of the afternoon Rome sun adds to the discomfort, leaving a fine sheen of sweat over my body.

  I know I should move. I’ve been in the same position for hours, but I don’t want to lose the moment. Staring down at the sketch I know it’s worth it. The Coliseum, in all its ancient glory before me, is mirrored in every stroke of my pencil. Beautiful, a monument to a time long past dead. With an absent brush of my hand, I pull back the loose tendrils of platinum blonde locks, which have escaped my messy ponytail at the nape of my neck and loop them behind my ear.

  My gaze follows the lines, and dipping, I add a little more s
hading, letting my pencil drift across the paper, and bringing it more to life. It’s a piece of work I know I’m going to keep. Anything else I produce here, I’ll happily sell in my art studio back in Devon. My normal seascapes and rustic paintings do well, but with something as exotic as the scenes here, I know they’ll do even better.

  “Vicky, are you done yet?” Susan’s voice is laced with irritation. My best friend loves my work but has no patience waiting for me to finish. Not that I can blame her. Twenty-four hours into our first day on holiday and I haven’t been able to resist getting my sketchbook out.

  “I’m done,” I tell her, flipping the book closed.

  Looking up, I find her rounded cheeks flushed from the heat. Her normally curly auburn hair is frizzy from the change in climate, framing her pretty freckled face. Decked out in cream shorts and a yellow t-shirt, her sandals give the finishing touch to her holiday look.

  “Good! You’ve been hunched over that forever and missing all the surrounding things.”

  The murmurs of the crowd filter back into my awareness. Bright colors of people wandering along enjoying the scenery and the summer afternoon. Lost in my drawing, I haven’t been aware of how busy the place has gotten. It's always the way when I’m being creative. Since stepping off the plane, a sense of peace has enveloped me. I’ve never been somewhere that feels so familiar. An echo in my soul as if I’ve been here before. It’s a weird experience to feel at home among strangers in a foreign land.