Between the Blade and the Heart

by Amanda Hocking

  “Always.” His smiled widened, looking hungry, and he looped an arm around me, pulling me out to the dance floor with him.

  He moved gracefully across the floor, somehow making me a more elegant dancer along with him. I wasn’t exactly clumsy, but my movements had never felt so fluid as with his arm around me, guiding me through the steps.

  With a hand on my back, he pressed my pelvis against his, then dipped me low. I relaxed against his arm, allowing my hair to drag on the floor, as he supported me and pulled me against him.

  “You’re a good dancer,” Arawn mused, his lips mere inches from mine.

  “Thank you,” I breathed.

  “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” he asked.

  “I’m not so nice,” I replied with a coy laugh. “But I was hoping to meet someone here tonight.”

  He gave me a predatory smile. “Well, you found me.”

  “Maybe if you play your cards right,” I teased, keeping my voice as sultry as possible. “I was actually looking for Bram Madichonnen.”

  Arawn waited a beat before replying, “Haven’t heard of him.” His arm was still around me, but his eyes darted behind me. “Your boyfriend is getting jealous. You should probably head back to him.”

  I glanced back over my shoulder to see Asher standing at the bar watching us. His eyes were dark, and his lips were pressed into a grim line, but I read the expression for what it actually was—not jealous, but cautious and diligent.

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I said, and when I turned back to Arawn his smile had vanished.

  He let go of me and stepped back before commanding, “You should head back to him anyway.”

  The crowd had parted a bit to make room for us to dance. Arawn was the kind of guy who demanded space. But when he walked away, he left me standing alone in a small circle on the dance floor, with leering eyes surrounding me.

  I tried to play it off and walk as calmly as I could to join Asher at the bar.

  “Who was that? He looked important,” Asher asked when I reached him.

  “He is.” I ran my hand through my hair and exhaled. “He’s a bigwig at the Kurnugia Society.”

  It had been named for the ancient word for the underworld Kurnugia, and it existed as a counterbalance to the Evig Riksdag. The impious believed that the Riks tended to land on the side of “good” more often than not, and they didn’t want the divine inheriting the world.

  The Kurnugia Society was basically a demonic version of the FBI, with a strong emphasis on making sure the impious and craven were treated “fairly.”

  “Did he know anything?” Asher asked.

  “Oh, yeah, he definitely knows something,” I said. “But he’s not talking. As soon as I mentioned Bram, he shut it down.”

  Across the dance floor, Arawn had settled into a private booth, and he waved over a scruffy bouncer-looking guy. He leaned over as Arawn whispered into his ear, and then he turned toward us—his red eyes scanning the crowd before landing on me.

  “They’re on to us,” Asher said.

  “Maybe.” I grabbed Asher’s hand. “Let’s dance and act normal, and then get out of here the second they stop looking.”

  We tried to get lost in the crowd, moving closer to the stage where the music was louder and the bodies were crammed closer together. There wasn’t much room to move, so I pressed my body against Asher’s and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  His arm was around my waist, but this wasn’t like before when we’d been dancing—this was protective and fierce. I’d never been around anyone who tried to protect me, other than Oona’s motherly suggestions, but that didn’t feel like this. My whole life, I’d always counted on my own strength to get me through anything, and so far, it had.

  But for the moment, with Asher’s strength enveloping me, it felt … nice. A new warmth grew inside me, softer and deeper, making me feel dreamy and romantic. I didn’t need Asher’s protection, but that’s what made it all the more gallant. He knew how strong and capable I was, and he still cared enough to shield me.

  He kept looking around, his eyes conspicuously darting, so I put my hand on his face, forcing him to look at me.

  “Keep your eyes on me,” I told him. “We’re trying to look natural.”

  “Right.” He nodded, and his eyes met mine.

  I let my hand linger, caressing the scruff of his face, and his expression softened from fear to something else, something like when he’d been watching me while I danced. We swayed together, an island in a sea of people. Alcohol and adrenaline buzzed inside me, but that wasn’t why I felt so wonderfully light-headed in his arms.

  I imagined him kissing me then. The scruff of his chin scraping against my face and neck as his arms tightened around me. I wanted nothing more than to take him to a dark booth and give in to every urge that had taken hold inside me.

  But I couldn’t. Not then. Not with demons and monsters lurking around, waiting to pounce.

  “Is he still watching?” I asked Asher, trying to break through the fog of my own lust.

  “What?” He blinked at me, then looked around. “Oh. No. I don’t know where he went.”

  Then I felt a hand on my shoulder, burning hot through the thin fabric of my dress, and I looked back to see the bouncer Arawn had been talking to. He looked even bigger up close and personal, with veins bulging through his dark skin, and his eyes were blood-red.

  He was a Pishacha—a flesh-eating demon—and right now his carnivorous gaze was fixed on me and Asher.

  “Mind if I cut in?” he asked.

  “Yes, actually. I do,” I said firmly.

  “Maybe you haven’t heard of me. I’m Cormac Kaur,” he informed us, grinning like a wolf. “I’m the head of security around here. So why don’t we go have a little chat?”

  “What’s this about?” Asher asked, trying to remain calm.

  “It’s easier if you just come with me,” Cormac commanded, and, based on the look in his eyes, I knew there was no arguing with him.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  The back room was lit by a solitary bulb dangling from the ceiling, and the concrete floors were covered in rust-colored stains that looked suspiciously of blood. It even smelled of it in here—metallic and earthy.

  The room was the size of an average walk-in freezer, and the steel door looked like it had once belonged to one. The walls were exposed brick, and there was nothing in it except for a single chair.

  Cormac had led us off the dance floor, gripping me by the wrist so tightly it would’ve snapped if my bones hadn’t been supernaturally strong from my Valkyrie blood. Asher followed at his heels, demanding to know what this was all about, but Cormac said nothing as he led us through the dark winding halls until finally shoving us into this back room.

  “What do you want?” Asher demanded again, his fists balled up at his sides.

  Based on everything I knew of Asher—his Valkyrie mother, his muscular physique, his possible experience as a Vörðr, his profession tracking down his mother’s killer—he was a formidable opponent in his own right. But Cormac was a huge dude, with demonic strength flowing through him, and he was used to dealing with the unruliest patrons at the Red Raven.

  There would be no way that Asher could win a fight against him.

  “You’ve been annoying our clientele,” Cormac informed us, and he began circling us the way sharks circle their prey.

  “How so?” Asher asked, feigning naïveté.

  “You’ve been interrogating them about one of our patrons,” Cormac said.

  “So Bram Madichonnen is a patron?” I asked.

  Cormac’s self-assured smile faltered. “We don’t discuss private business here. We like to keep to ourselves. And you’d know that if you were from around here.”

  “We’re just looking for an old family friend,” Asher said, trying futilely to maintain our innocence.

  Cormac ignored Asher and closed in on me. His red eyes bulged out from his skull, and his lip
s were pulled back into a snarl, revealing multitudes of pointed teeth. The scent of raw meat radiated from his breath, and I had to swallow back my urge to vomit.

  “At first I thought you two were just curious humans, but you’re not. You’re something else.” Cormac tilted his head. “What are you?”

  “Look, we don’t want trouble. We only want to find a friend.” Asher was at my side, but he moved, trying to wedge himself between me and Cormac.

  Annoyed, Cormac glared at Asher, and without warning, he struck. He punched Asher, knocking him to the floor, and then I lunged at the Pishacha. I hit him in the face, and a stunned Cormac stumbled back, his fingers at the blood forming on his lip.

  He growled, then charged at me. I dodged his punch, and kicked him in the stomach. This time he fell back, and I kicked him in the side again, just to make sure he was really down. Then I walked over and stomped my boot on his neck, pinning him there. My stiletto heel dug into the tender flesh of his throat, and he gulped as he looked up at me.

  “Shit. You’re a damn Valkyrie,” he realized.

  “I am,” I admitted. “And now you know that I can kill you if you piss me off. Why don’t you tell me where Bram Madichonnen is?”

  Cormac laughed. “You’re not allowed to kill me.”

  “Try me,” I said, pressing my boot harder against his throat.

  “Okay, okay,” he croaked, and I let up a bit so he could talk more easily. “It’s not like I have his home address.”

  “Tell me what you know!” I commanded.

  “He hangs out with this Fallen girl,” Cormac said finally, referring to the vernacular for fallen angels. “Eisheth Levanon.”

  “What do you know about her?” I asked.

  “She’s an ex-prostitute, but she used to work for some kind of archangel before she fell in with us,” Cormac elaborated. “I don’t know where she’s staying, but if you find her, you’ll find him.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and since I knew he wouldn’t let us just walk out of here, I pulled back and punched him as hard as I could. It didn’t knock him out, not completely, but it would leave him dazed enough that we could get out.

  “Come on!” I yelled and grabbed Asher’s hand.

  I didn’t know where we were going, but I had to get out before Cormac alerted all the demons that there was a Valkyrie in their midst stirring up trouble. I darted down the narrow hallways until I finally spotted a door with a bright red EXIT sign above it.

  I pushed through, still holding Asher’s hand, and we ran out into the cold night to a deserted back alley. Despite the chill of the air, my skin was flushed with heat, and my body felt like a live wire, electricity surging through me.

  Once we’d gotten outside, I let go of Asher’s hand, and we stood under the dark sky, which was glowing red from the lights of the club. We stood together, both of us breathing deeply to catch our breath, and in that moment, the two of us alone in the alley, I couldn’t recall a time that I’d ever felt more alive.

  When I looked over at Asher, a sly smile played on his lips, and something in his eyes made me think he felt the same way.

  “That was badass,” he said, his voice a husky rumble, and he stepped closer to me, causing my heart to skip a beat.

  I meant to thank him, but the words died on my lips. My pulse raced, and my breath came out shallow and shaky in anticipation—anticipation of what, I didn’t know, but I felt it coming, or at least I hoped for it. Ached for it, really.

  My legs felt weak, like jelly, but I also felt stronger than ever, like I had taken on an army of ogres and still came out on top. Everything was now in hyperfocus, as if time were slowing down. The world felt like it all might pitch to the side, but I wasn’t scared at all, because I knew that Asher would catch me if I fell.

  I was acutely aware of how close to me Asher was. So close I could reach out and pull him into my arms, if I wanted to. My thoughts raced back to the dance floor, when my body had been pressed against his, and I could still feel his hands, cold and rough on my hips, and I’d only wanted him—

  Then he was there, right there against me, with his hand on my face. I sucked in a breath, breathing him, and the scent of his cologne suddenly transported me to a memory of my childhood, when I’d been lost in a dark forest outside of the city during a rainstorm.

  It was the most frightening and exhilarating and enchanting memory of my life, and that’s exactly what Asher smelled like now—woodsy and dark and crisp and alive. Like terror and happiness.

  His eyes searched mine, and his thumb tentatively traced the outline of my lips. When his mouth finally found mine, it was like getting struck by lightning—I could actually feel the electric heat pulsing through me.

  He pushed me backward, but I didn’t stumble. I just clung to him, letting him lead me until my back pressed against the cold stone of a wall. As he crushed me against it, kissing me ravenously, I realized I’d underestimated his strength.

  Asher was raw power and lust, and the intensity of his kisses and the insistence of his hands roaming my body sent shivers all through me. It all terrified me, but I couldn’t get enough of it, enough of him, and I held him to me, lifting a leg to wrap around him and pull him closer to me.

  He let out a low moan, a soft rumble in my ear, that made my stomach swirl with delicious excitement, and his lips brushed against my neck. His moved down, gripping the bare skin of the thigh that I’d wrapped around him, and his fingers dug into my flesh as he kissed me.

  As abruptly as he’d started, he stopped, stepping back and leaving me gasping against the wall. My skin was trembling, and the mixture of pleasure and relief that washed over me reminded me of how I felt after I’d finished a job and had killed an immortal.

  Except, of course, that Asher left me unsatisfied and desperate for more.

  “Sorry. That probably wasn’t appropriate,” he breathed.

  I shook my head. “No. That was … that was good.” It was the most perfect, intense kiss of my life, but I didn’t want to explain that to him. Not then.

  Squawking—a robust cackle, really—from behind Asher finally made me pull my gaze away from him and his stormy blue eyes. A few meters behind him, in the otherwise deserted alley, a massive raven was perched on a dumpster.

  The bird’s dark, beady eyes were locked on me, and I realized it was the same raven I’d seen before. The one that had watched me kill Amaryllis Mori, the Jorogumo. I wondered dimly how long it had been here, how long it had watched me with Asher.

  “We should get out of here,” I told Asher, just as the raven cawed and flew off.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  I stumbled out of my bedroom, limping because my left leg was killing me, just as Oona was coming in the front door. Despite the overcast skies and rain hammering against the window making it look like night, the alarm clock on my bed assured me it was well after noon.

  “Are you just waking up?” she asked, taking off her jacket and kicking off her shoes.

  “I had a long night,” I reminded her as I hobbled into the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. Bowie was hopping around my feet, begging to be fed, and I nearly tripped over him as I dumped a cup of Lagomorph Chow into his bowl.

  “I was sleeping when you came in. Did everything go okay?”

  “Yeah. As good as it could, I guess,” I answered. “Where were you?”

  “Brunch with my mom and my cousin Minerva.”

  “How’d that go?” I asked, pouring myself a huge mug of coffee.

  “Fine, except my mom kept getting annoyed that me and Minerva were talking about thaumaturgy and all that.” Oona stopped talking to eye me as I hobbled to the couch to sit down. “How is your leg?”

  “Awful,” I admitted, but I tried to gloss over it by immediately asking her, “Is Minerva the sorceress?”

  “She is, and she gave me these cool protection crystals to try out,” Oona said, but she was already turning and walking into her room.

  A second later, she cam
e out with the ocher-colored solamentum in the palm of her hands. She held them out to me, but when I reached for them, she closed her fist and pulled them back. “I’ll give you two more of these, but you have to promise me that you’ll go to the doctor tomorrow and get your leg checked out for real. Promise me.”

  “I promise,” I said, but honestly, I would’ve agreed to most things if it meant I could take something to ease the throbbing of my leg. I downed them quickly before she had a chance to change her mind, and she sat down on the couch beside me.

  “So, what all happened? Did you find out anything?” she asked.

  I explained to Oona what had happened and what we had found out, deliberately leaving out the part where Asher had kissed me, but just thinking about it made my skin flush. It wasn’t that I was ashamed or wanted to keep it a secret—there were just more important things at hand and I didn’t want to waste time dissecting what was happening between me and Asher.

  Especially since I didn’t know what was happening with us. The kiss had been exhilarating and brilliant, albeit very brief, but after that there had been nothing. We left the club and drove around for a bit, partially to cool off and partially because the streets were so crowded it was hard to get anywhere quickly.

  But then we’d just parted ways and agreed to meet up later.

  “I could probably track her down,” Oona commented, once I’d finished explaining that Cormac Kaur had said Bram Madichonnen was staying with Eisheth Levanon. “You could, too.”

  I shook my head. “I tried searching the Internet. But you know how the impious can be. They’re either posting everywhere all over social media, or they’re completely silent and working in the background.”

  “No, I mean, you could use alchemy,” she corrected me.

  “No, I can’t.” I groaned and leaned my head back against the couch. “Alchemy is so hard.”

  “You need to practice it more, Mal. You wanna be a Valkyrie? You wanna track down this guy that’s turning the world upside down? Then you gotta get a handle on your alchemy.”

  “Can you just help me today, and tutor me on alchemy another day?” I asked hopefully.