Monsters Vs Demigods Deluxe Complete Duology
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About this ebook
Never look at Greek Myth the same again!
Meet the greek demigod Jason. Hates hunting monster girls. Stuck hunting monster girls.
In book 1 at the boardwalk. In book 2 at the gym.
Each time his mission proves far worse than he ever imagined.
Grab this exciting complete box set and embrace for the adventure of a lifetime!
Jonathan Evan Hudson
Widely traveled, Jonathan Evan Hudson spends as much time studying life as he does writing gripping tales of fantastic adventures. From the giant redwoods of California to the deserts of Israel, his thrilling stories all draw on first-hand experiences and expand them with the fantastic and his acclaimed creativity.
Read more from Jonathan Evan Hudson
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Monsters Vs Demigods Deluxe Complete Duology - Jonathan Evan Hudson
CHAPTER ONE
His scalp tingled. Buzzed like a wasp crawling about, getting ready to sting.
Jason brushed his short black hair back.
Yet the tingle wouldn’t go away. Damn it.
Sitting in Jonas’ old buggy of a convertible, he skimmed over the list again. Centaur hooves, siren wings, lamia claws, mermaid tail, cetus fins. In rainbow candy ink too. Crazy old fart.
Still, his heart sank deeper than an ocean trench. A siren, lamia, and a mermaid? The brine in the breeze caressed his chiseled face. The heat from the noon sun cooked away the chill trying to crawl up his spine.
Not girl monsters. Anything but girl monsters.
But it sounded like a shot at the Amber Force.
Sugar rushed through his veins. The same trio of monsters that laid waste to demigod teams eight and sixteen – demigods two years short of the big time, their four year training cut short. Devastated the Seagull County Mall. Once the best mall at the Jersey Shore. Now out of business. Annihilated the starlet Wendy Smithersons. Now a dead nobody because of the Veil that hid the supernatural.
But wipe out a monster team with a bounty on their heads and he’d get a sweet reward.
And an all-girl monster team might work out perfectly.
A whiny girl voice spoke up from the back.
Rebecca. Hephaestus’ runt of a daughter.
I call the cyclops,
she said.
Beside her a rough laugh broke out. Thick with macho lust. Like bacon drenched in lard.
As long as I keep the siren,
said Henry. The bloodthirsty bastard.
The car bumped to a stop. Tiny houses, practically shacks, lined the street. Across the road in front of them, dunes blocked the view to the roaring ocean. A toupee of pointy grass sprouted from each of the lumps of white sand.
Jason sighed. But it was his duty as a demigod. Son of whoever.
Worse, if he had been a regular high school student, he would have graduated a year ago. Been in college. Fucking babes and getting drunk. Plus, studying when he had the time.
But no.
Demigods attended the Academy of the Divine, or the Divine Ack for short. With a campus for each region of USA. And a school and training ground for demigods and sometimes even young godlings.
Worse, young monsters had their own school too. Similar to the Academy. Named Monster Academy.
And a source of mayhem and destruction.
Where the best student teams of one were listed on the Wanted List of the other.
The sun already blazed down and scolded his forehead. His snug tee shirt and brilliant red bathing suit should hide his demigod nature as a meathead. Though few meatheads carried a water-proof laser pointer than could transform into a sword of light.
A deep throat cleared. Jonas in his Hawaii tee shirt and straw hat patted the stirring wheel. The German weirdo grimaced, twisting his pointy mustache into a bizarre black grin.
No exchanging this time,
the old fart said. With his long jet black hair, the man just needed an eye patch to pose as a pirate captain on vacation.
Moans erupted from the backseats but Jason kept silent. He’d save the siren for last. By then the girl would attack him and force him to kill her.
Hopefully.
The tingle zapped him again. He flicked his scalp and suppressed a growl.
Jonas huffed. A war is coming. Don’t slack off. Timely rebirth isn’t guaranteed like it’s used to.
Oh yeah. Once killed, demigods got reborn automatically, given enough time. Monsters too, though they didn’t need to grow up again. Kinda made the whole fight to the death thing less scary. Especially when demigods who fought well enough got granted a real second chance at their current life.
Rebecca whined again. With all of her bitching, the frail nerd of a girl would shame Hephaestus but the geek must have built enough strange gadgets to please him. With her scrawny, jagged figure all she needed was a crippled leg to match her father’s ugliness too.
It’s the Titans again, isn’t it?
she asked. More like said.
At least her divine father had acknowledged her. Not like Jason’s. Not that he would grumble about it.
Maybe,
said Jonas, Send me a message when you’re done. Now get out and get hunting.
Jason flung the door open and trotted out. Don’t look back. He hurried down the sidewalk.
The Titans and the Olympian gods had waged wars for millennia. Usually as conflicts between monsters and demigods that grow into divine battles. The losing deities suffer Tartarus for a century or two than reappeared and it begins again.
History reflected it too. The Dark Ages reflected the Titan’s rule. The Renaissance the Olympians. Lots of cycles. And often some deities of the losing side survived.
He ground his teeth. If only monsters weren’t reborn so easily. Or multiplied quicker than demigods.
But enough whining. Life was life. Newer monsters were easier to kill anyway.
Though his damn scalp tingled again.
The shacks lining the boardwalk stretched out before him. Grimy tin and warped wood. Aromas of pizza, hot dogs, and hamburgers waffled through the salty air. Enough to make his stomach growl and his mouth water. Some blared out corny music and whistled loudly.
Giggles caught his ears. Girly giggles.
Don’t look. His cheeks warmed. Probably babes in bikinis.
They might be monsters.
Or worse. A Wanted Team.
Like the Amber Force. Or the Sexy Serpents. Or Demi-bane.
He didn’t need a bunch of claws ripping into his back. Nor a trip to Elysium.
Even if the reward included extra vacation time and extra cash. Even a special gift or two.
With a gulp he glanced at the group. A cluster of teenaged girls flocked by a frozen custard shop. A plump lot. Like overgrown blueberries.
They’re not cute at all. A hint of tension eased his back.
Glancing at each young girl, none raised his hackles.
All human.
He strutted down the wide walkway. Meathead style. The warped wood creaked occasionally. His sandals clicked against his heels.
Some middle-aged blobs with chubby kids strolled by. All human. Good.
Beer stank up the air. An open bar pointed toward the rolling ocean with a string of barflies. Sort of like an ancient minotaur’s mouth so rancid only a few foul teeth remained. Some of the drunks looked grubby enough to match.
Especially the fat dude with a forest of gangly whiskers. A tattoo of an arrow and skull glistened on his exposed chest.
His scalp tingled with a vengeance. He slapped it and moved on.
Till a centaur built like a volcano stomped out of the bar.
CHAPTER TWO
Straining her legs not to rush, Samantha forced herself to stroll down the boardwalk. The whacked of her thongs punctuated the din of the crowd.
The stink of sweating humans surrounded her. Bald meatheads whose glistening chests reeked of some chemical stench. With the undertone of awful steroids.
One sent a smirk her way. A giant shrimp of muscled bulk.
Every inch revealed by her two-piece bikini cringed. Jutting her slender hip out, she glanced at the ocean. The creep’s eyes slimed her chest. Not that she saw it but a lamia could tell these things just by instinct.
Too bad she couldn’t sling him in and kill him. Their mission wasn’t to hunt down humans. In fact, hunting humans now might warn their potential targets about their abilities.
Roaring waves crushed on the surf, dotting by swimmers. Mia would love to drown and feast on one of them. Probably frolicking out there right now. That mermaid did tend to slack off too often.
Heya, hot stuff,
said a voice as oily as a canned sardine.
The same damn meathead. Drooling over her bosom. Why did Felicia choose these skimpy things? Sirens and their crazy ideas. At least the bubblegum color was cool. And the word PINK
on the ass. Nice.
But convincing Mai and Samantha to accept the perma perfume scented as bubblegum – what was she thinking? Cash for several missions well done would have been better. Or maybe a special weapon or something.
Her nostrils flared. Wanna do me a favor?
Sure!
His gaze remained too low.
Go jump in front of a bus.
Woh, I –
A hint of sweet coppery body odor waffled from behind her.
A son of Ares!
She clenched her teeth and spun around.
With a sword of crimson light in his hand, the brute towered inches above her. Few guys could match her height.
Yet this one loomed over her.
His massive muscles bulged. His dark eyes a volcano spewing off bloodlust.
Her pink fingernails transformed into claws. Ripe with painful venom.
He smirked. Head like a bullet, the demigod swung his sword at her neck.
She leapt back.
And smashed into a barrier of inferior brawn and steroids.
The sharp tip swept underneath her chin.
She gulped acid. It reached her gut.
Hands grabbed her waist.
Fuck! Are they working together?
She stomped his foot.
The bastard yelped.
Good.
Grabbing his hand, she swirled around and dug her claws into his side.
The four, inch long blades sank deep.
And squirted a few juicy drops of her sweet venom.
He howled yet no sound came out. His face contorted.
She shoved the jerk down.
He thumped into the warped wood.
One enemy down. One more to go.
But the demigod swung his blade at her exposed back.
Too quickly to dodge backwards.
Or to duck.
Shit!
She lunged at him.
His stink drenched her nose.
Human perspiration mingled with a dirty copper.
She closed in.
Swerved.
And snatched his hands.
Both clung to his sword.
Her toes transformed into inch long claws. Ripe with poison.
Fucking bitch,
he said. A gruff voice as greasy as lard. Your claws are mine.
Not yet.
Her voice as sweet as her venom.
He shoved forward.
His hard bulk pounded into her.
As powerful as a boulder.
She fell.
Her rump smacked wood.
Breath jolted out of her.
Ice squirmed through her stomach.
The demigod pointed his sword at her neck.
His slimy grin as pristine as a slug.
Who are you?
she asked. Her heart raced. At least let me know who sent me to Tartarus.
He laughed. Thick from his gut.
Henry the Bold, lamia.
The brute towered so high above her. His shadow smothered her.
I’m Samantha Hiles.
Delay the inevitable and she might find an escape. This will be my first time to Tartarus.
Where she would be tormented for failure for a few days, maybe a month or two, before being sent back up to the regular world again – which would take another month or two, at most. Usually a few days.
That was another bonus of attending Monster Academy – Tartarus time was short and punishment overseen by Academy teachers, not the usual demons.
Yet his horrid grin grew. Won’t be your last time.
She giggled. Despite the acid flowing through her bones.
Why not?
she said, I always loved traveling.
His nose wrinkled. Those big hands clamped down on the hilt.
I know what you’re doing. Talk, talk, talk. You think a pretty face will save you, fucking lamia.
Her mouth dried. Despite the briny breeze carrying the aroma of greasy hamburgers and sticky pizza.
Well, you got me. At least you won’t rape me first.
She added a sly smirk and puffed out her chest.
Come on, take the bait. Come get close enough for my claws to get you.
He spat. Rape a monster? You’re –
Pain exploded against the side of her head.
A thump rang out by her ear.
Her shoulder dug into the warped wood.
Fucking bitch.
A harsh voice gasped.
The stupid meathead.
Eyes blood red, his digits stretched toward her.
CHAPTER THREE
Beer drenched the salty air. With its circus of barflies, an open bar pointed across the boardwalk and at the roaring ocean. Chubby couples with pudgy children strolled by.
As if the centaur clomping out of the bar was just an ordinary guy.
Or maybe a seagull.
The Veil hid the supernatural world from normals far too well.
With his flaring red hair curling in the wind, the shaggy beast gave Jason a rugged grin. A mug of frosty ale in his hand. He chugged it down and tossed the glass aside.
It landed with a clunk.
Jason snatched his laser and clicked it on. A blade of lime green light sprouted from it, ending with a bright hilt. If only the gods permitted modern weaponry. But then bombs could be used, including nuclear ones.
Not an option.
The centaur raised his forearm. A tattoo of a flying raven stretched along the army limb. Strange.
Will the sun rise tomorrow?
he asked. That sinister glint in his eyes made the demigod’s gut squirm.
Huh? I hope.
Crazy.
The monster laughed. Me as well, demigod.
And drew a broadsword from his back.
Time to die,
Jason said, crouching, ready for the predictable charge.
With a scream the centaur rushed at him.
Hooves slammed into the worn wood.
Cracking it.
His giant sword raised high.
A thunderbolt ready to strike.
The blade flew down at his face.
Jason jumped away and slashed at the galloping hindquarters.
And missed.
The briny breeze filled with the smell of chipped wood.
Of sweaty horse.
He turned around.
The clomps slowed.
The centaur swerved around some clueless blond babe.
His heart stopped. Not just any blonde. One who could compete with Aphrodite’s Top 10 list. With long lush hair and a plump chest squeezed tighter than his insides by her bubblegum bikini top. A slender figure that curved sweeter than ice cream. A face cuter than a playful seal.
Almost as cute as Samantha.
His heart panged.
Don’t think of her. She’s the enemy now.
A very sexy enemy.
Oh shit. His cheeks blossomed with heat. Think of something else. Anything.
The girl’s tropical blue eyes caught his and widened. Her hilly cheeks grew rosy.
Not again. He looks at a girl. Lusts for her. She meets his eyes. Wham! The curse makes her fall in love with him.
Yet his chest hammered hard.
The centaur grabbed her shoulder and shoved his sword against her neck.
She gasped and froze.
With a victorious grin the monster shouted. Drop your blade or I kill the girl!
Ice zapped up his back. She was as good as dead if he did. Him as well.
So he lifted his blade. A contest for the girl.
She stared at him. Her mouth slightly agape. His hackles pried at his neck.
A throaty giggle escaped her mouth. I’m sure I can pleasure the man who wins me.
She stroked the massive hand clamped on her shoulder. A sensual smile edged on her lips.
Looking down, the centaur brushed her hair and pulled it to his nose. Jason could have hugged her right about then. Maybe Aphrodite’s gift wasn’t a complete curse.
Contest?
he asked, holding a thick lock of her hair by his face. What sort of contest?
A very fun one,
she said, her voice lemonade. It’s – HEY!
He snatched her by the waist and flung her over his broad shoulders.
This is a game I like,
the centaur said.
She shrieked.
Her peachy limbs flailed uselessly, banging against his bronze brawn.
Let me down!
she exclaimed.
Jason yelled and charged.
His veins flushed with bitter acid.
The idiot. As if the centaur wouldn’t just kidnap her. He should have known better.
The centaur turned and galloped away.
Barreling through the crowd.
His horse stench polluted the salty breeze.
Pedestrians leapt out of the way. Others crashed to the ground. Cries rang out from them.
The girl looked up and screamed for help.
Her tropical blue eyes hooked him and wouldn’t let go.
Clenching his jaw, Jason sprinted after him.
If the beast didn’t rape and kill her right away, he would the moment he received a mission that included killing humans.
If only he had a bow and arrow.
All that practice useless.
The path through the crowd closed slowly.
It was his damn sword. When active, it made regular people ignore, avoid, and forget him with whatever monster he fought as long they as they close