It was Ava who’d first suggested the trip. Let’s go to the city, at least try to have a bit of fun. The counselor said it would be good for us. We can remember Daddy, and it’ll help us heal as a family. Remember what it’s like to be alive.
Then Morgane found out how bad things could really get. What Dark Times really were.
And what she would give to bring predictability back into her life.
She stared into the cracked mirror and a lean, muscular stranger stared back. These memories made her feel heavy, as they always did. But whatever Mir had given her must have kicked the toxins out of her body. Less than forty-eight hours and physically, she felt good.
No, better than good. She was the goddamn Energizer Bunny. Only one more thing she had to change, she thought, setting two boxes of extra light sun blonde on the stained bathroom sink and turning on the water, praying it was hot.
An hour later, the last of the sun streaming through the dirty window, she surveyed the guns and knives strewn across the mattress on the floor while she towel-dried her newly blonde hair.
And when the moon rose through the skyscrapers made by man, and over the lake made by God, she buckled on her gear.
And went hunting.
9
Questions raced through Loki’s mind.
“Are you going to start answering me, or are you going to stand there staring out into space?” It took Loki a second to even remember where he was. What he should be doing.
“I asked you a simple question about the girl. What did you find out?” Odin sneered from atop his throne. Right. Gold throne. Odin. He was here to report on Morgane and what happened between them. Shit.
“Yes, focus, you idiot. Who is she? What is she? You were supposed to find out why she’s hunting demons in my city? Why she’s still alive?” Odin bared his teeth, his patience wearing thin. “For the love of… None of these are difficult questions.”
“Yeah, about that…” Loki cleared his throat. “You’ll be happy to hear I got my shirt back.” He should have known better, after a thousand plus years, to jerk the guy’s chain, but then again, he never was a fast learner. When Odin’s magic lashed out, an ice-cold whip of power that hurled him across the room and crushed his skull against the stone pillar, he put two and two together. Yeah, the All Father was pissed.
“I got my shirt back,” Loki mumbled out of the side of his mouth. Damn, he’d said that already. Trying again, he amended, “I talked to her, Odin, and by all appearances, she’s human. She’s completely, totally human.”
“Yes, I gathered as much, since I can smell her all over you. So you slept with her? At least tell me you wiped her mind afterward?” Contempt twisted Odin’s mouth. “No? Then you are as stupid as you have been acting these past couple of days.”
Loki’s knees popped as his boots hit the floor, Odin’s magic receding.
“If she’s human, how can she see the Grim?”
“I don’t know.” Loki admitted.
“Well, figure it out. Or I’ll send Tyr or Freyr after her and they will.” Something inside Loki snapped at the thought of either of them even being close to her.
“I’ll take care of it,” he said quietly. He’d protect her, from whatever Odin had planned. He had to, she was in his blood now. He couldn’t shake the memory of them together, the salty taste of her. There was no place he didn’t imagine seeing her green eyes or catch a whiff of her spicy scent. “Look, I swear to you, she’s flesh and blood. I think…” Odin cut him off.
“Do you know what I think? I think you’re the reason we’re here in the first place. You and that death goddess you spawned. You thought you could outrun your own fate. But in the end, you burned our world to ash. You doomed us all. When we died, in those last days on Asgard, you watched. You and Hel.” Odin tapped the arm of his throne, in time to every single word that came out of his mouth. “Lest you forget, some higher power banished us here. Because. Of. You.”
Leaning back, his eyes narrowing into slits, his fingers drumming idly on the arm of the throne, Odin continued, “You might be the reason we’re cursed. But I’m still in charge. Which means I’ll do with the mortal as I see fit.”
Like a switch being flipped, Loki watched the light shut off in Odin’s crystal clear eyes. Everything in Loki stilled while Odin’s edict continued.
“Furthermore, you will never see this human again. Her name will never cross your lips, no thought of her will cross your mind. Never again.” He snapped his fingers. “If you do, I’ll come up with a suitable punishment for you both. Remember. Death is kind, but I am not.”
“That is all.” Dismissal thrummed in Odin’s voice.
Loki bowed slightly before turning on his heel and striding out of the room. It took everything he had not to run and warn Morgane right then, and only because Odin would expect that.
Because if he knew Odin, his modus operandi was to eliminate every potential snag. And he was sure Morgane had just become the biggest one.
The snag that might unravel the whole damn sweater.
Across town, Morgane was sick and tired of waiting patiently in the shadows, studying the iridescent puddle of oil. It looked like a rainbow, shimmering layers of color undimmed by the dark, or the dirt, or the grime of this lower level of the city. By now, she should have found her prey, or rather, they should have found her, but maybe they simply weren’t hungry tonight.
One never knew what the black-souled bastards were up to.
Right before she turned to head home, she heard the faint scuttling of claws and reached down into her boots to check for her extra knives. Then patted her coat. Then double-checked the weapons at her hips. Rotated her head, feeling the faint pop of her neck. Those first few months, there had been fear, later anticipation, and then readiness. Now she was simply calm. As if realizing her days were numbered if the odds played out.
“About time, you little bastards,” she murmured, the words a hiss of sound across the concrete. Then, for a second, she did nothing but blink when she saw exactly what was coming.
Once again, there were so many of them. So many, she realized the game had finally changed. Somehow, they had tracked her. As her heart leapt into her throat, she sank onto her haunches, hands yanking out both hip knives. This was no longer a hunt, the methodical stalking of prey. This was an all-out extermination.
“Fine,” she muttered, fitting a handle firmly into each palm. “Just fine, if that’s the way you want to play, then so be it.”
In the seconds before they overtook her, she was already leaping forward to meet them, the first three dead before they’d touched her.
She left another three shriveling away in the dirt, but not before they found her arms with their claws. Her wounds were only scratches at first, growing deeper and deeper as she waded into them, grinning as they wailed, stacking up like cordwood. Her arms giving out, her legs rubber, she stumbled, climbing back up only to go down again.
“Come on,” she willed them, “come down here and make it quick, you bastards.” The knives were getting heavier, her clothes now soaked through with black and red blood.
Right before she fell to her knees for the final time, dizzy from the pain, she might have heard the roar of a motorcycle. But it was only the scream of the last demon she saw before it latched onto her and pulled her down into the dark.
10
As she was dying, Morgane’s vision flashed between darkness and light. Fragmented images, memories maybe, faded in and out, flickering, slower and slower. The thudding of her heart dwindled until she stopped counting the heartbeats. Voices, all around her, dissolved away into silence.
There had been a time when she’d dreamed she was flying, when light had blazed white against her tightly shut eyes, so dazzling it had burned straight through her. So bright, she was relieved when the endless darkness beckoned. It promised peace and empty quiet, away from all of this death.
But now? Pain tore through her, cracking bones, tearing flesh.
<
br /> It threatened to crush her, to rip her apart. With every echo of it through her body, the sheer intensity caused starbursts to flare against the backs of her eyelids before fading away, replaced by a barrage of images and impressions coming far too fast for her to fully comprehend.
Bright blue eyes, warm hands, a broken bed, anger, a gaping mouth dripping with sharp teeth.
Remembering the first time she’d come to this city.
Body shuddering, she drew a breath.
Her heart began to beat. A slow, steady thudding against her ribcage. As life flowed back into her, she was hit with a fresh blast of agonizing fire. But as her heartbeats evened out, her breaths steadied, the flickering images slowed, cleared, focused.
The first time she saw Chicago, she was flying into O’Hare, watching the shoreline of the lake against the brilliant lights of the city. She remembered thinking how incredibly clean and crisp that line between the light and the darkness was, a clear demarcation separating nothing and everything.
Life should be so perfect. So precise.
Morgane wanted to believe she was in heaven. The white light gave her hope. The gentle, soaring feeling, she presumed, would be exactly what Heaven might feel like. But surely, pain like this wouldn’t exist in such a place? Not anything so wicked and sharp at the same time?
“Hey. Hey, I think she’s waking up. Somebody find Odin.” A man’s gruff voice, a familiar voice, from right beside her caused a memory to stir.
Odin. She remembered that name from somewhere.
Beneath the pain, fear lanced through her.
Hovering between unconsciousness and wakefulness, the too-bright light still seeping between her tightly squeezed eyelashes, Morgane moaned. She couldn’t stop the pain. It radiated from every part of her body, pierced through her consciousness. With a muffled moan, she tried to shift position. That was a no go.
Her tongue leaden, a few words slipped out. “What the hell happened?”
Opening her eyes, she blinked, and when the room swam into focus, she noted the hermetically sealed infirmary hadn’t changed a bit. Well, except for the mountain of bloody white gauze in the corner and the extremely pissed off dude with long white hair and crystal clear eyes looming over her, arms braced on either side of the table. Trying to block everything out, the man, the pain, the blinding light, Morgane squeezed her eyes tightly closed again.
“Don’t bother pretending, human, I know you’re awake.” Somehow, she just knew this guy was Odin. “Although I‘m questioning why I ordered Mir to bring you back from the dead.” He didn’t sound particularly happy about it as he mouthed her name with distaste. “Morgane Burke.”
“So you know my name. Holy hell, why does everything hurt so bad?” The back of her neck prickling in warning, Morgane scanned the room for Loki. Mir. Anyone other than this intimidating man staring down at her. “Where is everyone? Where are Loki and Mir?”
“Neither of them are here to save you this time, human. Although…” He paused, his eyes glinting, nothing human in that cold, cold face. “Both of them defied my orders to help you. Which makes me curious. I have questions. Take care with your answers, mortal, your life may depend upon it.” The pale man’s voice had the detachment of a casual killer, taking his time while he toyed with his prey.
Pain was punching holes through her, the agony of it bright and sharp, making her voice quiver. But Morgane paused, the sense of impending danger overriding the agony. “Who are you, anyway?”
His eyes blazed white, his face hard and unyielding. “Perhaps the real question is, who are you, Morgane Elaine Burke?” His silky tone took on a childlike eagerness, as if nothing surprised him anymore, and he’d just found something that did.
Morgane assessed him, hoping he wouldn’t go to all the trouble to save her, just to kill her right away. “Me? I’m just a girl from the Midwest. Nobody special at all. I’m not sure what else I can tell you.”
Still, he watched her, so she looked around the room, at the stainless tables, the state-of-the-art equipment, before settling back on his face. “What is this place, anyway? Some kind of military facility? A medical lab? I told them everything the first time I was here, not sure what else I can offer…”
His eyes darkened, the clear silvery gray turning stormy, swirling with anger as he drawled, “Perhaps I should have made myself clear. Mir told me who you said you were. I’m asking for the truth.”
Pain rippled through her still. But she held the man’s gaze. Held it and challenged it. “Fine. Obviously you spent time and effort bringing me back. What do you want to know?”
“Your parents. Were they human?”
Shoving aside the ramifications of what he seemed to be asking, she answered, “Yes. My father was a computer programmer, and my mother was a teacher.”
“And you?”
She shrugged helplessly, sending sharp, needles of pain shooting through her. “Yes, of course. I don’t understand why we keep having this conversation when I answered all your questions the first time around. I told you the truth, I’ve given you everything I know.”
“Not everything, Morgane. Not nearly everything.”
“But I have, I’ve…”
“The demons. How long have you been able to see them?”
The room suddenly became too small, too hot, too damn confining. “I don’t understand… I can’t…” All too clearly, she saw exactly where he was going and what he was asking.
“Tell me, Morgane. When did you begin seeing them? How did you begin seeing them?” She felt the blood drain from her face, felt dizziness hit her as his deep voice prodded. “Tell me and this conversation is over. Lie to me, and you will deeply regret it.”
“After my mother and sister were killed. Only after I…died.” Sheer will forced the rest of the story out, and only because she absolutely believed he’d carry through on his threats. “I couldn’t see what attacked us that night, only that something was pulling us, stabbing us.” She was acutely aware of how loud her heart was pounding. “But I died on the way to the hospital, in the ambulance. And after that… I saw those creatures everywhere. I couldn’t believe how many of them there were, black and monstrous and awful.” Morgane snapped her mouth shut, marking the way his silver eyes glowed.
“Did you tell the other humans?”
“No,” she admitted, “Because it sounds absolutely crazy, saying something like this out loud. Why would I tell anyone that?”
“How long were you dead?”
“Minutes, but they brought me back then they lost me again. I wasn’t stabilized until after I reached the hospital. Do you think this is why I can see the demons?” Morgane pressed.
“You are not in a position to ask questions, human.” His arrogant dismissiveness got under her skin. “Although your account does clear up a few things. Not everything, but enough.”
“Enough for what?”
His lips curled into a smile. He’d be handsome if he wasn’t so terrifying. “Enough to allow you to keep breathing a bit longer.”
This was becoming tiresome. “You see? That’s our problem in a nutshell. I tell you the truth, and you threaten me. We’re on the same side, or can’t you see that?” Her voice was fading as she lost steam. “Who in the hell are you people, and why are you hunting those things?”
He reached for her neck, but all he did was clasp his hand around her jaw and turn her face from side to side with that strange, inquisitive look on his face.
“How have you managed to stay alive all this time, when death seems to be nipping at your heels?” He muttered, sounding intrigued.
“I already told you. I’m nobody special. And I’d like to see Loki now if you don’t mind.” She wished it had come out a little less whiny, but hey, there it was. Mir stopped short in the doorway, his gaze flipping between her frantic eyes and Odin’s hand wrapped around her face.
“Mimir. Congratulations. It appears you have saved the mortal. Again. She wants Loki?” A slow, cruel smile
spread across his face as he stared down into Morgane’s. “There’s a way to bring your lover back. When you can walk, Mir will bring you to my Throne Room, and I’ll explain what I want. Which should be amusing, at the very least.” He released his hold on her face, and Morgane collapsed backwards onto the cold, metal table as Mir materialized in her wavering vision, same red hair, same pissed off personality.
“Mir, right?”
He offered a terse nod.
“Thanks again. You must be a wizard with a needle. You’d have needed a sewing machine to put me back together this time.”
“I didn’t sew you up, I healed you. Much quicker, but the pain…” He lifted an eyebrow at her. “The pain will be worse initially, but it’ll fade in a day or two. I had no choice. I had to take away the toxins or the damage would…linger. The pain you’re feeling is an unfortunate side effect.”
“You healed me?” Morgane held his gaze. “Like how?”
“Like with magic.”
She waited for the punch line. The laughter. Nothing came. “So these are like phantom pains, and all my injuries are gone?”
Mir gave her a quick slice of his head in confirmation. Rolling her shoulders, she did feel whole again. Weird but intact. And this pain felt different, less fleshy, more bone-deep. Okay. Wow. The shakiness returning for a whole different reason, Morgane asked, “Can you at least tell me where Loki is? The Viking guy…”
Mir cut her off, shooting a quick, furtive look toward the empty doorway, hissing, “That’s our king. Odin. Show some fucking respect.”
She forced her breathing to remain steady, a sort of panic setting in.
Dropping her voice, she whispered, “I need to see Loki, like right now. Why isn’t he here?” Without him, she felt strangely rudderless. True, she didn’t know a lot about the guy, but she knew enough to know that if he could be here, he would. The fact he was missing gave her the willies. The fact nothing made sense gave her the willies, too, but at least if Loki was here, she’d feel safer.
The Banished Gods Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 7
