The Black Blossom: Book 2 In The Healer Series

The God of Love and Marriage: 700 A.D.

Musubi-no-Kami, the god of love and marriage, was preparing to make a deal with the devil…literally.

Stone steps crunched beneath his sandaled feet, and the temperature dropped with his slow yet determined descent. The path he took now was one he never would have considered a millennium ago. He never would have considered it a month ago, but Edana was gone, dead by her own hand, and someone needed to pay. That someone was Masaru Katsu, warrior god and keeper of the Grass Cutter Sword.

Musubi had done his best to curb Katsu’s inappropriate relationships with human women. He’d tried thousands of times over the past centuries to help the warrior god understand the kind of devastation he left in his wake every time a heart was broken and another girl abandoned. It left his job of helping these women find their soul mates virtually impossible. They became unwilling to ever open up and trust again.

It was selfish of Katsu. He was one of the few kami in all of creation destined to have a soul mate, destined to have the kind of love and companionship that Musubi could merely dream of and never hope to achieve. Yet the warrior god showed very little emotion whenever his future bride was mentioned. He clearly took his good fortune for granted. He didn’t even care, and now he’d gone too far. Edana was gone and it was Katsu’s fault.

He ground his teeth together as he continued to descend the cold, black stone steps to the underworld. His previous existence had centered solely on bringing happiness and joy to others. He’d done it for thousands of years and always assumed it would be the only thing he would ever desire. Now, the only thing he desired was revenge.

Musubi took his very last step into the underworld and waited. The nekomata, one of the demon god’s trained assassins, had been very specific in their previous conversation. Musubi was to wait there until he was sent for. Wandering off and getting lost in the underworld was not only unwise but hazardous to one’s health, even for an immortal being.

He didn’t have to wait long. Despite the dense darkness surrounding him, he was able to hear the padded approach of one of the demon god’s servants. He hoped it was a servant and nothing else. The padding came to an abrupt halt a few feet in front of him. A small flame pierced the oppressive blackness, and a torch was lit, illuminating the desolate cavern.

He eyed the nekomata critically. The depraved soul had once been a kami himself, but he’d defected centuries ago, never to be heard from again.

“Musubi, it’s been a long time,” it hissed.

“I have a meeting with your master,” was Musubi’s short reply.

The nekomata’s cat-like eye narrowed and then seemed to glow a deep green color.

“Of course, I shall take you to him now.” He turned and motioned for Musubi to follow. “I must admit, the news of your arrival here has created quite a stir, but I for one am not surprised. It’s always the best of us that falls the hardest.”

Musubi suppressed an angry response and followed his guide deeper into the dark recesses of the underworld. Before long, he was led into a large opening. Lighted torches hung on black metallic posts in the air. The black stone surrounding them seemed to absorb any light the fire from the torches created. They were in some kind of dungeon, to be sure, but one that no longer resided in the world of the living. A black throne lay thirty feet ahead of them, and seated on its edge was the demon god and lord of the underworld, Amatsu-no-kami.

He thought he was prepared for the sight of the demon god, but at that moment he doubted anyone could be completely unaffected by the pure malevolence that radiated from the god of the underworld.

It was difficult to take in the fallen deity’s appearance because he had the same face and form as always, and yet here he sat, horrifically different from the day Musubi witnessed him cast out of Heaven. The whiteness of his skin was just as blinding as ever, but he was and had always been, a devastatingly handsome individual with jet black hair and eyes, a strong chin and firm cheekbones. He still wore his sparkling white robe almost as if he were mocking the Parents who originally bestowed such pureness upon him.