Gluttony: Sin-Eaters, #1

By Lynn Chantale

An ancient sect of gods, known as Sin-Eaters, have one last chance to save humanity from an Emperor God bent on world domination. And it all begins with Gluttony.

Tialoc had one mission, find gluttony and return it to the tlazolli or sin box. He doesn't expect to find the sin wrapped in a sexy chocolate-skinned woman or that she is his mate.

CJ accepts a trip to paradise to meet Tialoc. When an accident sidelines her before their first date, she's hesitant to go at all. What she isn't prepared for is the passion or love they share.

When their lovemaking has unexpected consequences, time is of the essence. Tialoc must convince CJ to embrace her destiny or lose him forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lynn Chantale
• Release date: Apr 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393961505

Book preview

Prologue

Tenochtitlán, Sometime in the Past

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War was inevitable.

Tialoc peered around the marble Pantheon. Great stone pillars disappeared into the high vaulted ceiling. Sculptures of fallen gods, those who’d lost their immortality, littered the cavernous throne room like forgotten trash. Several lesser deities clothed in silver breastplates and feathered headdresses stood at attention beside the doors and strategic points along the wall. Tialoc tried not to smile. He could take them all out with a flick of his wrist and a well-placed lightning bolt.

He was a god, part of an ancient sect known as the Sin-Eaters. He commanded the elements, held enormous strength, and was next in line for the crown. He could do without the throne.

You demanded an audience, then show blatant disrespect? A strident voice thundered. "You will kneel before my throne."

Tialoc merely lifted a brow. The annoyance in Emperor God’s voice did not spur Tialoc forward, instead, he met the other god’s cold stare with insolence. "You have shown little respect for anyone but yourself, Emperor God," the last bit was said with a sneer.

Moctezuma flashed a cold smile. And now you keep me waiting as well.

It is you who has kept me waiting, brother, Tialoc answered with equal contempt. Thunder rumbled overhead. Several of the guards shifted, their armor rattling.

What sorcery had brought them to this point? For the last few months Tialoc, as well as several others, had noticed the subtle shift in Emperor God’s personality. At first, Tialoc explained it away as grief for the loss of their sister, Metztli. But the excessive show of guards in the throne was taking paranoia to a new level. If Moctezuma was concerned about an attack from a dissenter, Tialoc could’ve handpicked Emperor God’s detail. Instead, Moctezuma had rejected any of Tialoc’s suggestion, choosing instead to surround himself with some of the lesser more questionable guards.

Xochiti, Tialoc’s second-in-command, leaned close. Do you really think it’s wise to provoke this idiot?

Tialoc grunted, then stepped forward.

State your business Tialoc, my patience grows weary.

Again thunder rumbled, this time closer. Tialoc breathed a little deeper. Losing his temper now would not gain them anything, and only let the god in front of him know he’d gained the upper hand.

Still, Tialoc chose to scrutinize the demi-god who was his brother. Moctezuma looked the same. Well at least his physical appearance hadn’t changed, but there was something about the eyes…

There was a hardness and cruelty about the eyes where there had once been compassion and wisdom which spoke of experience that had nothing to do with age. Now all of that was accompanied by a bit of fanaticism.

Perhaps you are still mourning the loss of our sister and the betrayal of a trusted friend? Tialoc hoped the change of tactic would provoke more of a response.

Chips of stone and dirt exploded at his feet. Tialoc lifted a hand and the debris settled harmlessly around him. He tilted his head to the side. No one has been able to get to the dungeons since the cave-in to see if Huemac breathes.

Do not speak that betrayer’s name!

Xochiti flicked a speck of Earth from his tunic. That got a rise. He shifted his stance, though his attention never wavered from the throne nor its occupant.

Forget this plan! It will not change what has occurred. Tialoc snapped.

Moctezuma bared his teeth. For the leader of their race, he was rather small in stature due partly to not being a full-blooded god. The product of a god and human mating, he tried to make up for his so-called shortcomings by ruling the gods ruthlessly and when anyone opposed him, they often disappeared. We are above the humans. They deserve to be enslaved.

With the coming of a new leader, war had been prophesied. Only months into Moctezuma’s reign the unthinkable happened: Huemac, a trusted friend and Captain of the Guard betrayed his people in the worst way. He’d attacked the princess and tried to murder Moctezuma. Ever since then, Moctezuma had changed and not for the better.

War was coming.

You have done nothing regarding the invasion in the East. They are, or were, our closest allies. Tialoc gestured to a broken statue. The chief’s son has not been seen since your caucus.

Perhaps the chief should have better guards for his son. Moctezuma’s smile was cold.

Murmured laughter filtered from the guards stationed around the room.

Then you want the war, Tialoc surmised.

The last several months, Tialoc and his small band of gods had held off Moctezuma’s attempts to do just that, but with their numbers dwindling from either laying down their immortality or Moctezuma’s faction killing them, it appeared Emperor God would win his quest to overthrow the human race. Tialoc couldn’t allow that to happen, no matter the cost.

Mayhap you decided to embrace the old ways again, dear brother? It is not too late to have the stonemasons resurrect your temple. It would require a small sacrifice from your loyal followers to regain your former glory.

Tialoc stepped forward. Only the restraining hand on his forearm kept him in place. Many centuries had passed since he destroyed his temple in an effort to erase the irreparable harm he’d caused humanity. Having children sacrificed in his name was a mistake he’d have to live with for all eternity.

I’m sure we could find an unwilling participant for you. Moctezuma leaned forward, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. Remember the power that came with each innocent life? The boost it would give you as their soul entered yours? I know you miss that.

Try your taunts elsewhere, insolent cur.

Moctezuma narrowed his eyes and stood, his silver cape billowing behind him. He pushed a stray brown hair from his forehead and adjusted the long-feathered headdress on his head before placing his hand on the hilt of the dagger at his waist.

Tialoc shifted his stance. Xochiti and the rest followed suit. His men were loyal. They believed in free will as much as he did and would do all they could to thwart Emperor God’s scheme.

All he wanted to do was stave off the inevitable, but staring into Moctezuma’s eyes, Tialoc knew words were no longer effective. Something else drove Moctezuma to want to sacrifice the humans. The longer they stared at one another, the more apprehension knotted in Tialoc’s belly.

War was inevitable, but he had to try. To make one last attempt to get the obstinate leader to see reason, to rally whatever compassion the deity still contained.

We do not take away their free will, Tialoc argued.

What’s the point of being a god if we can’t show those puny humans who is really in charge?

Tialoc stepped forward, and Moctezuma’s guards shifted toward him. He tapped the hilt of his sword and his own men settled in position behind him. Tension stretched and strained. Just one word and Tialoc and his men would overrun the guards before the Emperor could shout for more.

I will not allow you to destroy humanity for your perverse sense of pleasure. You have destroyed one civilization already. They worshipped you faithfully.

Moctezuma sneered. And you plan to stop me? You don’t have the power, let alone the backing. He snapped his fingers and several men, in full battle armor, filled the room with swords and spheres drawn.

The sound of swords scratching against scabbards filled the room behind him. Tialoc drew his own weapon. We came prepared for war. He advanced, then just as abruptly stopped when a small box materialized in the Emperor’s palm. Hold!

You know exactly what this is, don’t you? Moctezuma fingered the black ornate lid. Ancient script was carved into the side and gilded with gold.

"The tlazolli or sin box. It’s said to be a myth and only the Ancients knew of its location. Tialoc lifted his sword. The blade glowed in the dim light. How did you get it?"

Never you mind that. What matters now is, I have it, and I know how to use it. He gloated.

If there was one thing, Tialoc couldn’t allow, it was for Moctezuma to unleash such wickedness on unsuspecting humans. If it took his own immortality to stop it then that’s what he’d sacrifice. Tialoc had a choice. They were outnumbered, but his men were true. They had honor on their side.

Attack!

Metal against metal clashed and sparked, clanging as broadswords met. All around bronzed warriors fought. Grunts and curses, yelps and howls of pain mingled with the dust.

Tialoc stood back to back with Xochiti. Whatever happens we can’t let the Emperor open that box. Tialoc blocked the downward swipe of a sword with his own then head-butted his attacker. The man staggered backward.

And how are we to get to him? We’re outnumbered three to one.

From the corner of his eyes, he watched Xochiti kick his foe before running him through with his blade.

Tialoc scanned the room, spying Moctezuma in the corner. He’d have to read the inscription on the box before he could open it, giving Tialoc time, but first, he had to get some room. He sheathed his sword, lifted his arms to the sky; a rumble of thunder filled the space and the floor rolled, knocking several guards off-balance. Hairs raised on Tialoc’s arms and the back of his neck before a lightning bolt flared.

Screams rent the air as several guards fell.

Show off.

Tialoc grinned and ran toward Moctezuma, shooting short bursts of electricity from his fingertips.

The Emperor God lifted a hand and the sparks disappeared with a sizzle. Don’t waste my time with parlor tricks. Moctezuma reached in a pouch at his waist then blew a powdery substance in Tialoc’s direction. That should keep you busy.

Tialoc backpedaled as a large scaly creature materialized in front of him. The creature stood three houses high. Its large eyes blinked and zeroed in on Tialoc with deadly precision. He studied the creature; the thing didn’t seem to have a vulnerable spot on its armored body. The triangular-shaped head sported spiked horns and great rows of razor-sharp teeth. Smoke billowed from its nostrils when they flared. The monster lifted a taloned foot. Tialoc jumped back as the animal stomped the very place he’d been standing.

The Pantheon shook with the force. Cracks spidered from the deep imprint left behind.

This the best you got? Tialoc scoffed. A smoking, stomping lizard?

Where there’s smoke...

The lizard opened its terrible mouth and roared. A hiccough later, flames shot out like tendrils of death into the room.

Take cover! Tialoc screamed.

Fire raced above his head, heating his armor as he dove behind a pillar. Shrieks from those not fortunate or fast enough to heed his warning were cut short. He didn’t have time to assess the damage. He had to get to Moctezuma before he opened that damn box. Let Xochiti deal with the lizard.

Tialoc searched the smoke for the Emperor God. Behind him, heat singed