Fallen (Dark God Saga) by Violette Dubrinsky, Renee Flowers

turned into raging bitches. First Aphrodite, now Hera. It was one thing to accept punishment because he’d “done” something but quite another to be punished for lying with a human, virgin or not.
              Pushing the comforter aside with his powers, he dressed himself and approached her.
              Hera’s head whipped back a fraction, curls bouncing. Thanatos stopped only when he was a fraction of an inch away, and then he snarled in a vicious voice, “I would like to see you try.”
    ***
              Simone was caught in a nightmare. She was obviously sleeping. First the woman had appeared out of thin air seemingly, and now Thanatos was doing weird things, moving stuff with his mind. Okay, she was going back to sleep and hopefully when she woke up, all of this would be gone. Well, maybe she’d awake in Thanatos’s arms and the red-head would be gone.
              “How dare you?” Hera screeched, and Simone watched in horror as a ball of fire sprung from between her palms and launched at Thanatos. She screamed out a warning, but he’d already moved. Disappeared. Right. And then he was at Hera’s back, launching his very own ball, this one black and smoke-like. He’d sent it in her direction when another man appeared—out of nowhere of course—and deflected the ball. Well, more like he released his own ball, this one bigger, and infused with lightening and the black, smoky ball vanished into the air.
    Okkaay. Now was the time for someone to pinch her. Hard. Simone yanked at a fleshy part of her arm, and grimaced. It hurt.
    What the hell was going on?
    ***
              “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS, THANATOS?” Zeus roared, his anger palpable from the bulging veins at his neck, the dangerous glitter in his eyes, the way the entire room seemed overcharged, like an electrical circuit was about to explode.
              Thanatos barely coiled his temper. His powers were flowing through him once more, the electrical currents rushing over him like powerful waves, and the need to use them was great. “Hera attacked without cause, Zeus. I was protecting myself.”
              Oh great, Simone thought, shaking her head. Zeus was the tall, handsome blond with the lightening colored ball, and Hera was the red-haired, flame thrower. And they were in her bedroom. And Thanatos was probably something just like them. Wonderful. She’d just lost her ever-loving mind.
              Zeus spun on Hera and said one, clipped word: “Explain.”
              “He’s taken the most sacred of my handmaidens!” Hera said in an accusatory voice. She turned to look at Simone, and Simone could have sworn that she saw regret in those eyes.
              “She lies! Simone is not a handmaiden, and she certainly is not yours!” Thanatos couldn’t believe her nerve. To lie about something like this, involving the very human Simone Randall! His human Simone Randall.
              “Be silent, Thanatos! You have offended me not once, but twice. It is taking more than you will ever know not to kill you where you stand.”
              “The feeling is mutual, Hera.”
              He felt the familiar hum in his body, the one that came when Death reared its head and singled out its prey. Hera’s soul was strong, beating in thudding waves around her body. It would put up a strong fight before leaving its mistress’s body. Taking a soul from a living body was more difficult than retrieving it from a prone form. Death hadn’t collected in that way in centuries, and was eager to practice his skill.
              “I WILL NOT WARN YOU AGAIN, THANATOS!” Zeus roared, pointing a finger toward him. His eyes had gone from a normal human blue to a blue infused with darts of lightening. He turned to his wife, and his stare was no less hostile.
              “Wife.” The word was the equivalent of a curse on his lips. “How is this