The Banished Gods Box Set: Books 1-3

by L. A. McGinnis

  “I hardly think…”

  “Oh, yes you do. That’s been the whole problem. We’ve all been thinking too much, when we should have been digging deeper into the information right in front of us. Mir figured it out. The words I’ve been writing down were a summoning incantation. And I wrote down the final line of the spell a few hours ago. But you already know that.

  “The good news, for me at least, is that I wasn’t the door. Not literally, anyways. The bad news is, it’s done, Odin. He’s through.”

  She held up her phone, Millennium Park a scene of utter chaos. The Bean, also known as the Cloud Gate, even though nobody actually called it that, overturned and shattered into a million, silvered pieces. A thin plume of black smoke still rising from a crater under the middle of it. All around, the windows of the building were blown out, cars overturned, huge cracks radiated outward from the point where, she supposed, the Orobus had come through onto their plane.

  “So you can kill me, but it won’t do any of us any good now. The humans lied. Njor lied. We didn’t have two weeks or even two days. It was finished the second I woke up and wrote down those final marks. He’s here. I sure as hell hope you have a Plan B.”

  Before she even finished her last sentence, Odin vanished into nothingness, and Celine was left running for the car to begin her two-hour drive south, hoping like hell she made it back to the Tower before dark. Praying Mir had gotten her text and was currently doing something about it.

  She dialed Mir and practically growled the words out at him. “I just saw Odin, the bloody bastard. You never warned Fen, did you? You promised you would. You promised. Damn it, Mir.”

  Mir cut her off. “They went at it before I had a chance. Now Fen’s roaming the city somewhere, Celine, still transformed into the beast because he doesn’t have his chain on. We’re all out looking for him after what happened in Millennium Park. We need to find him fast. Before he eats somebody. Wait, are you driving back?”

  “Looks like it. Odin left me to my own devices, apparently. Nice guy. So I’m a little less than two hours out, if I can even get close enough. It looks like they’re going to shut everything down.”

  The next eighty miles were spent chewing her lip and continually looking down at the phone before it finally lit up again. “Mir? Please, please tell me you found him. No? Well, keep looking, I guess. I’m close, but I’m already running into police and fire.” She saw helicopters circling overhead, hoping to get the money shot. “This is a nightmare. I’ll get as near as I can and then I’m going to have to walk the rest of the way in.”

  “I’ll send Loki to meet you. Text me when you can’t go any farther, and he’ll come and get you.” His voice came out garbled, as if he was calling from the middle of a war zone.

  Celine made it to within a mile of the Tower, which was a miracle, if she did say so herself. She got stopped in Old Town, just north of Clark, and abandoned the car in a gridlocked mess that nobody was getting out of anytime soon. Tucking the gun into her coat, Celine double-checked the weight of the rounded stone in her pocket, before hoofing it south toward the river, cutting over to the lower level of Michigan the first chance she got. At least down there, most of the crush of humanity was left behind.

  It was like the Otherworld, down below, all murky darkness and echoing silence, the concrete dimming the sirens and the general chaos that was happening topside. Somewhere up there was the thing they were calling the Orobus. He was lurking, or hovering, or whatever the hell Chaos incarnated did. Now that he was here, supposedly he could not be stopped. But everyone had a weakness. Everything, she mused.

  Hell, even Odin had hesitated before killing her.

  With knowledge born of insight, Celine shifted her thoughts to the Cloud Gate. He’d destroyed the gate coming through, which meant he’d need another way to bring these armies of his through. Finding another portal would take time. Perhaps they did have time. Maybe the two weeks, she thought, feeling sure of her logic. Whatever power she’d stolen from him, she knew something about him now. Or at least, knew the way he thought.

  Inadvertently, the Orobus had given them a timetable. Walking swiftly, she pushed harder at the walls within her mind. He needed time, time to take form, to adapt and change. To play in this new place, with his new self. And then he would begin. And where he began, they would end.

  Oh, you think you are so clever, don’t you? But we’re smarter. She would find his weakness. Because she always found everything, no matter how small or insignificant.

  She’d find his other portals too. She’d figure out a way to stop him.

  The smell of smell of smoke, bitter and pungent, stinging her nose, told her she was close to Millennial Park when she sensed the pack of humans following her. A large group, some way behind her, whose steps matched hers as she picked up her pace, hoping to outdistance them. Celine broke into a run as her fingers flew over the phone, but before she could hit send it was knocked out of her hand and went skittering across the pavement.

  Over a block away from the Tower, she rose, facing eight men. Their eyes were strangely empty, vacuous, as if they weren’t quite sure where they were or what they were doing.

  Except when she turned to face them, a large hand crushed into her face, snapping her head around and her vision went almost black for a moment, dimming before coming back. She staggered to one knee and then was back up on her feet, pulling the gun out of her pocket, managing to get off two wild shots before that, too, was knocked out of her hand, following the phone as it flew across the sidewalk.

  The tight circle parted and Njor stepped through. His cold, hard gaze settled upon her with the weight of a killer on his quarry. And to think she’d thought of him as some kind foppish pawn.

  Blood leaking down her face, she spit out, “He sent you here, didn’t he? To find me?” Not a question, really. Not anymore.

  “A task that proved far too easy in the end.”

  She wasn’t sure she was even breathing. “Why? Why waste the time when he’s finished with me?” What more could he possibly want from her?

  Unless she’d underestimated him and this was worse, so much worse than she’d imagined.

  “Because he doesn’t fully control what happens here on the physical plane. Not yet. And because you are a thief and a liar. You still have the stone.” Njor’s mouth parted in a parody of a smile. “So now, I will take back what was stolen and return it to my master. For which he shall be forever grateful.” Keeping that deadened gaze upon her, he said, “Her coat, look in her pockets. If it’s not there, we head to the Tower.”

  A pair of rough hands held her while another man searched her coat. Tossed the stone to Njor as her heart sank. Why was that piece so important? What did it matter in the end, when he’d already accomplished the worst?

  Palming the stone, Njor turned away and made it one step.

  “That belongs to me,” Celine murmured. “If Orobus was stupid enough to allow me onto his plane, perhaps he deserved to lose his property. And you…” She saw the spark of absolute rage lighting up the Vanir’s steely eyes as he whirled around. “Fen told me you’re the last of your race. I’ll bet your ancestors would roll over in their graves, seeing how easily the Orobus turned you into a puppet.”

  The hands on her arms tightened painfully as she continued, her words getting louder and more reckless with every step Njor took toward her. “Or maybe I should just call you an errand boy. Doing his dirty work. Fetching things for him. People. Stones. Who knows what else? What’s next, Njor? Licking his boots, perhaps?”

  The crack of his hand across her cheek sounded like a gunshot against the concrete. The Vanir dropped his hand and hissed, “I am no one’s slave. Nor an errand boy, as you say. You are a thief and a liar and a mortal, for the gods’ sake. You are nothing, and when he razes your world to the ground, and what’s left of your race become slaves… Then you will understand what it means to know your place.”

  Celine did not balk. “You’re helping
him because you share his vision.” A kernel of truth, she realized, watching recognition kindle in his eyes. “You’re helping him because you hope to share in this new world he’s planning to create. What has he promised you, Njor?”

  “Everything. A world without the likes of you in it. And what remains of the mortals and lesser races… You will serve your purpose, I suppose. The worthier ones who are loyal to him, we shall be rewarded.” Disgust and avarice underlined his words, as if success was assured. “But you…” Njor jerked his chin to the man holding her. “You will not see any of this. In my day, thieves were tortured and nailed to the walls of my hall as a reminder to others. But we don’t have the time.

  “Kill her. Take your time or do it quickly, it matters not, but I want her dead.”

  Celine went limp, felt the man’s hands readjust for her weight. She measured the distance to the shadows. To where the gun lay gleaming. Twenty steps maybe, and she’d disappear into total darkness. If she could pull free, she might just make it. Forcing herself to stay calm, she concentrated on breathing, focusing on the hands of the man who held her, his grip, his strength, if the sleeves of the jacket offered her any extra mobility.

  “She’s considering escaping, you idiot. If she does, you’re all dead men, regardless of our agreement,” Njor said nonchalantly, stepping away. The grip became vice-like as her heart thundered.

  “Pretty little thing.” The man’s tongue licked her ear. The shudder ran straight through her as his hand brushed over her body. “Think you’re better’n me, don’t you? Man said I don’t got to kill you quick.”

  She kicked backwards with her heel, felt a jolt of triumph as he grunted. Then his hands clamped down cruelly around her arms.

  “That’s the way you want to play? Here I thought you were some sweet thing….” His words were cut off completely as something warm and wet sprayed across her, followed by a dull, slightly wet thudding sound against the far side of the road. The hands holding her fell away and she was free.

  Dropping down, Celine hunched into a tight ball and wrapped her arms around herself, having no doubt at all what, or who, caused the man to release her. Then there was nothing but utter confusion around her, the sounds of scuffling, of grunting, of awful, tearing sounds. Screams were instantly cut off, almost before they started, and then the hissing of feet against gravel, or perhaps huge claws, made her curl down even tighter. Replaying Fen’s words wasn’t much of a confidence booster.

  If I ever turn, run, Celine. Just run. The wolf will kill everything in its path, even you. It’s not me, it has never been me.

  The crunching stopped. All sound stopped except for her breathing.

  Celine rose in time to watch Njor stagger away from Fenrir, whose enormous body waited half in and half out of the shadows, so she couldn’t get a full idea of exactly how big he was.

  “You deserve to be wiped out of existence. You are an abomination.” Njor’s voice shook slightly, but his head remained high.

  Fen lunged for him, jaws wide, and flew through the air. And dropped like a rock to the pavement. Celine watched in horror while Njor raised a hand and Fen writhed at his feet, clawing helplessly at the ground. Such painful whining coming from his open mouth that she pushed forward, trying to reach him, only to be repelled by…something. Some kind of invisible, pulsing field surrounding the both of them. Exactly like the shroud Ava had dropped, upstairs in the Tower.

  Njor shot her a look of sadistic triumph before turning his attention back to Fen.

  Skirting the invisible barrier, while Njor’s focus was wholly on the wolf, Celine quickly rounded the bodies until she found the right one, felt in the man’s pocket, and pulled out the stone. She ran to the shadows, trying to shut out Fen’s cries of pain, ignoring Njor’s mocking laughter. She found the gun against the curb and ran back to the edge of the force field. The boundary was completely invisible, with a hint of sulfurous brimstone that burned her nose. Curling her hand around the stone, it warmed in her palm, fitting as if it belonged there. The Vanir’s magic barely tugged at her when, gripping the stone, she stepped through, the Vanir’s attention focused on his thrashing prey before him.

  Njor was so busy gloating, his voice low and vile, he never even noticed her. “You will die tonight. The first of the immortals, and I shall be rewarded. Do you hear me, beast? Rewarded.” Celine walked straight up behind Njor, pointed the gun at the center of his back, and pulled the trigger. The blast threw him face first to the ground, and she flipped him over with her foot, so he stared up at her, his final breaths labored and wheezing.

  “You tell the Orobus when you see him, that if he ever comes after anyone that belongs to me again? I will take more than his power away from him. I will take everything,” she hissed, as the Vanir’s eyes slipped shut.

  Rising, Fen cocked his head. Then the only sound Celine heard was the deep, rumbling growl as Fen stepped into the light right in front of her. As she straightened up and took him in, in some ways, the shaggy black beast was every inch of what she’d imagined in her worst dreams on her worst night. And yet…

  He was none of those things. Here was the wolf who protected her, curled around her, warmed her with his body, carried her across a river, saved her. In her dreams, he had been gentle yet fierce, kind yet fearless, and she felt none of the instinctual danger that she should have. Instead, she felt safe. And when he stared down at her, fixing that deadly predator’s stare upon her, she smiled.

  Chapter 38

  Agony roared through Fen. He’d know, the moment he saw Celine’s eyes.

  First, they’d fill with fear.

  Horror second, and then finally condemnation. And then he would lose her.

  Everything he feared would come true, as everything she feared stood before her. She’d reject him, and rightly so. He was a monster. Bred to destroy worlds. Raised to be nothing more than a doomsday machine.

  Born for one purpose and one purpose only, to bring about the end of Asgard, and he’d done so. Beautifully. Poetically. And with brutal efficiency. As she slowly raised her face to his, as he watched the darkness swirl away in those extraordinary eyes of hers, he waited for her to pronounce his fate with a single glance.

  Perhaps, he realized, this was the judgement he had always awaited. The judgement he had escaped when he’d been reborn onto Midgard. Judgement much keener wielded by the one you love, instead of one you despise.

  And when Celine’s eyes sharpened, when she saw the beast he’d become, the matted fur and the fangs so long he could scarcely close his mouth around them, the eyes so black they were soulless, she moved. Away from him. And then gazed up so she took the whole of him in. The sheer immensity of him, the sheer monstrosity of him.

  Fen stopped breathing completely. So now she knew.

  Knew what he’d been trying to hide these weeks from her, and all these years from himself.

  That he was a beast forged in the fires of hell. That there would be no redemption for him, no happily ever after for them. Beasts simply did not possess the acumen for such things. He’d tried, in his stupid, clumsy way to warn her. To prepare her. But nothing prepared you for evil until it stood in front of you in all of its dark glory.

  And stand Fenrir did. Twelve feet tall and almost as wide, towering over Celine’s slight, pale form.

  As if in answer, she smiled at him sadly and shook her head.

  “You seem to think I’m made of moonbeams and shadows, Fen.” She moved slowly, carefully, keeping everything about her as still as one would when approaching, say, the most dangerous creature on earth. She took one cautious step forward, easing back slightly when the wolf’s black upper lip curled back.

  “But you should know, because I have told you enough times, I am made of stronger stuff.” She took another step. “I have, and I will, see things that I might wish I hadn’t,” she continued conversationally, as she kept her approach easy but continuous, “and besides that, you should realize by now, that I’m just as stubborn
as you are. And nothing...” She reached out a hand toward his snout, curling her fingers slightly under and pausing for a moment to let him decide what to do. “I mean nothing is going to keep me from you.

  “Not even this great hairy beast that’s currently in front of me.” She gently stroked his nose, settling on a long, soothing rhythm that she hoped would appease him. “And so, when you do come back to me, when you decide to put away your bloody pride and your fears and come home to me and talk, then we’ll figure all of this out, Fen. But for now”—she moved a little closer and laid her cheek against the great, warm head—“know that I love you. That I will never leave you, whether you take the form of a beast or a man, you are mine, Fenrir. And I’ll never, ever be afraid of you.” She closed her eyes, savoring his warmth. “Together, Fen. Remember our promise.” The beast chuffed a mild response back at her, nudging her slightly back a step. And watched his great, arched back as he loped away into the smoke.

  She followed him all the way back to the Tower.

  Chapter 39

  Tyr leaned back in his seat in the comm room and watched the bank of monitors flicker in their staticy black and white, the violence spreading across the city an ugly stain, sprawling from screen to screen.

  “Holy shit.” Freyr leaned a hip into the table and surveyed the damage. “This looks bad. So much worse when you’re actually down in the middle of it, though.” Indeed, the smell of smoke still clung to the handsome, golden god like perfume, pungent and sharp, as if he’d dragged half of the fires burning below up the stairs with him. “Loki and Vali are out there tracking the thing, but so far no luck.”

  “You tell them not to engage,” Tyr growled, pushing his dark hair back away from his face. “I’m not losing a single one of you today, do you fucking understand?”