The Banished Gods Box Set: Books 1-3

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The Banished Gods Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 50

by L. A. McGinnis


  His heart sank. They always had known one another all too well.

  “Time. I need more time before I take your place.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “Then I will keep my word, of course.” Fen’s head bowed, hoping she’d allow him to at least tell Celine goodbye. Hel should know what he was feeling. He’d heard a long-ago rumor of a husband that Hel might have loved. And a daughter, lost.

  Perhaps she might understand.

  Hel’s grin grew ever wider. “I just wanted to see what you’d say, you know. Your promise, it doesn’t really matter.” Rolling her shoulders, she added, too confidently for his liking, “Nothing really matters anymore.”

  “When the god came through, I was released from this prison of mine. I am to be a queen, you see. Of his new world.” Fen’s head whipped up as the hall began to fill with the noise of a million creatures of the night. “So fly back to Earth, little brother and prepare yourself. Enjoy your remaining time with your mortal. Days. Weeks. Months, at best.”

  “Hel, you cannot do this.”

  “Do what? Take back what is rightfully mine? I was meant to rule. You’re the ones who locked me away.” Her wicked eyes held nothing but death as she promised him, “And now you’ll all pay the price.”

  THE PRIESTESS

  THE BANISHED GODS: BOOK THREE

  L.A. MCGINNIS

  Copyright

  Copyright L.A. McGinnis 2019

  All rights reserved

  Editor: Chris Hall: The Editing Hall

  Cover Design: Brynna Curry

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or distributed in any printed or electronic form or by any means, without express permission from the author or publisher. Please do not participate or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  Please contact the author for any use in a review.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE:

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, including businesses, companies, events or locales is purely coincidental. This author acknowledges the trademarked status of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-970112-04-7

  ISBN-13: 978-1-970112-05-4

  Published in the United States of America by Fools Journey Press, 2019

  Epigraph

  “This thing of darkness I

  Acknowledge mine.”

  ― William Shakespeare, The Tempest

  Chapter 1

  The Witch

  After the destruction of Chicago, it was perhaps fitting the sandstone tower known as the Phoenix Club still stood on the shores of Lake Michigan. Once, the building had served as a symbol of enlightenment. Now it was inviolate, impenetrable. Unbreachable.

  Because that gothic façade hid an important secret.

  Immortal beings capable of saving this dying world.

  Sydney Allen squinted through the haze of smoke as she sized up the art déco windows looming high above her. Her feet were numb, buried in snow up to her ankles. Whatever was happening on this planet had changed even the seasons. It was the first week of June, and still the flakes kept falling; the snow stained a dirty gray from the ash of a thousand fires. Day and night, Chicago burned. That much she’d heard before she was cut off from the rest of the world, seventeen days ago.

  Which was why sixteen days ago, she’d set up camp across from the Phoenix Club and began her vigil. A bitter smile quirked the edge of her mouth as a large, hooded figure stepped off the opposite curb and made his way up the street toward her. Despite the dull, burning ache in her arms, she hoisted her sign even higher, cursing the numbness in her feet as she muttered to herself, “You finally got my message. About damn time.”

  Freyr, God of Prosperity and Love, surveyed the dead and soon-to-be-dying mortals lining the streets as he worked his way back uptown toward the Tower.

  Chicago was burning as it hadn’t burned in 200 years, and this time there’d be no rising from the ashes. When the God of Chaos had entered their world, he’d devastated this city. Driven millions from their homes.

  The dark god was only a few miles north of here, as Freyr determined from this most recent scouting mission. Weakened, and at the moment, waiting. For what, Freyr didn’t know, but he was hauling ass back to the Tower to give his report.

  Turning onto what had once been the swankiest shopping avenue in the world, he dodged abandoned vehicles, corpses, and debris. He caught the quick, furtive movements of the human plunderers and their slower victims as they darted through the shadows. Finally reaching the outer edge of Odin’s territory, the desperate knots of stranded humans grew even more desperate, their hopes and fears emblazoned clumsily onto cardboard.

  Jesus Saves

  Is This The End?

  There was one thing you could always count on. Mortals were a predictable lot. The humans would blame everyone else for their problems and then look to the skies for answers. But once the God of Chaos emptied his armies onto Earth, they’d consume this planet, like the tender, fattened calf it was. And no help would come from the skies. Nor from anywhere.

  A block from the Tower, Freyr’s gaze skimmed quickly over the humans’ pathetic signs as he strode past, ignoring their pleas for food, help, shelter.

  Save the Planet. Yeah, good luck with that one.

  We Will All Perish. Well, this at least was true.

  Freyr nearly missed a step as he caught sight of the next sign, as well as the blatantly defiant face of the young woman who held it. As if noting his shock, she hoisted the sign higher, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze as he crossed the street so he could get a better look.

  There’s No Place Like Asgard

  Whatever breath Freyr had in his lungs exploded out in a violent burst. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he slowed his pace until he drew even with the offending placard and snapped a quick image. Slipping the phone into his pocket, he crossed back over to Munroe Ave, figuring it was his bad luck Odin had sent him out today on a mission, and he’d made it safely home only to find the biggest clusterfuck ever sitting right out front.

  But humans outing their big secret to the world were above his pay grade. Which was why Mir could make the call on this. He ducked into the hidden doorway at the base of the Tower, dreading what’d happen once he showed Mir the picture.

  Maybe today was the day the Fates had picked to screw him over, after all.

  Chapter 2

  The Alchemist

  The Alchemist

  “So…what do you think she’s up to?” Nose practically touching the glass, Freyr leaned in closer, squinting into the monitor, both he and Mir evaluating the blurry image of the girl, the sign, the mystery waiting out in front of their fortress.

  Mir frowned, not taking his eyes off the screen. “Hard to say. No doubt about the wording on the sign, is there? And this is the third day in a row she’s been outside. I figured she’d have given up by now.”

  When Freyr had showed him a picture of the sign, Mir had laughed. In the midst of the world going to shit and him trying to figure out a way to save them, this chick decides to reveal their carefully guarded secret to the entire planet. Truth be told, Mir would have let the situation go, were things left up to him. He had bigger fish to fry, such as tracking down the entity who’d blown a hole into their world and was currently roaming the countryside, chewing through cities and mortals alike.

  But the powers that be had rendered their verdict. The problem couldn’t be ignored.

  “You check through old footage to make sure?” Freyr tapped the screen’s surface, as if this might make her disappear, and hence, take care of their little issue.

  Mir didn’t even bother g
lancing up. “Yup. Went back through and it looks like she’s been out there for nineteen days straight.” And the weather had been wicked. Wednesday was a whiteout, and she’d stayed through the day. “I don’t think she’s going anywhere.”

  The blonde god’s golden eyes sparkled. “I volunteer,” he offered casually, “to go out there and ask her about the sign. She’s got red hair, Mir.” His voice turned wheedling. “Come on. You know I’ve been cooped up here for weeks…”

  For a second, Mir sized up Freyr. Handsome, sexy in a way women couldn’t say no to. “I should send you, actually. I’ve got important shit to do. Like figure out where the God of Chaos is headed next.” His eyes moved over to the monitor again. “Tell you what, if she’s still down there tomorrow, we’ll flip a coin or something, see who gets to have a little conversation with her. Not up here, obviously, or Odin will kill us.”

  Mir swung his gaze back to the stubbornly unmoving figure on the fuzzy black-and-white screen. “Besides, I’ll bet you twenty this turns out to be nothing.”

  Freyr called tails. Which was how Mir ended up striding across Michigan Ave toward some rando chick with a cardboard sign, his hood pulled up to keep the snow from sliding down his neck. With the multiple layers of bulky coats masking her body and a hat pulled over her face, she was taller than he thought. She rose when he neared, as though she were expecting him.

  He stole another look at her fucking ridiculous sign.

  There’s No Place Like Asgard.

  Mir fought the urge to laugh.

  When Freyr had shown him the photo, Mir had been amused and baffled. The memory might have been what made him slow his pace, or maybe it was the long fall of red hair that cascaded down when she yanked off her hat. Or the absolute fury paired with piercing intelligence in those light green eyes when she stared daggers through him.

  “It’s about damn time one of you came down. Do you have any idea how cold it’s been? I’ve been freezing my ass off waiting for one of you to show up.” The woman had a low, sexy undertone to her voice, a deadly whirlpool that could suck you in and pull you under. If you weren’t careful. Mir stopped dead in his tracks.

  “Now I know you spotted me at least three days ago. Blondie snapped a picture, right after he almost tripped over his own feet. I’ve been waiting ever since,” she continued conversationally, lowering the sign, her eyes narrowing, “for someone to come talk to me. What I’d love to know is why it took three freaking days?”

  For a guy who had seen everything, Mir was at a loss for words. All he managed was, “Been sort of busy. What’s with the sign?”

  She flashed him a wide grin. “I thought it was funny. Don’t you think it’s funny?” She joggled the cardboard at him like a final sale, huckster salesman. “’Cause I think this is hysterical.”

  Despite his best efforts, Mir’s mouth quirked. “I guess. What does it mean?”

  She snorted. “You know exactly what it means. It’s bait to get one of you immortals to come out and talk to me. Look. I don’t know which one you are”—she cocked her head, sizing him up with calculating eyes—“although my first guess is Tyr. Possibly Mirmir. Doesn’t matter. I’ve got to get inside that building. I have information about what’s happening.” She sucked in a quick, loud breath. “About what happened five weeks ago. Now, are you going to help me or do I have to figure out another way inside?”

  Her lips tightened until lines formed at the corners of her mouth. “Because I’ll do whatever I have to. I’ve got to talk to Odin. What I know…is important. And it looks like you’re the lucky one who gets to take me to him.”

  Mir’s heart stuttered in his chest. So the sign wasn’t bullshit. Somehow, someway, this girl knew of them. She’d be killed for this, if he didn’t get rid of her, and quick. Before Odin found out she was here, on his doorstep, their long-kept secret plastered on a fucking cardboard sign for everyone to see.

  Mir hitched a thumb over his shoulder before telling her flatly, “No way you’re getting inside that building. I’m not even going to debate the fact with you. You need to get your ass back to wherever you came from and stay there, do you hear me? Bad things happen to people who stick their noses where they shouldn’t be.” He glanced over his shoulder, just to make sure reinforcements weren’t already on their way before lowering his voice in warning. “Listen up. I don’t know who you are or what you think you know. But in this new, fucked up world, there’s a million ways to die. Don’t make this one of them, girl.”

  Her eyes went every bit as flat as his. “Ooooooh, Mr. Big and Scary. Well, I know several ways to die in this current world of ours, and yes, I agree that dying out here freezing my ass off would be a shitty way to go. Tell you what.” She pursed her lips. “Give me sixty seconds, and I’ll convince you what I’m offering is worth a meal and shelter.”

  She shook her head, red hair spilling all over. “And seriously? Do you always just stomp across the street and threaten to kill someone? It doesn’t appear you’d get much accomplished that way. Let me ask you a question. Obviously something big crossed into our realm five weeks ago, and I’m betting it came from outside our world, am I right?”

  Mir took special pride in his poker face; it had served him well for centuries. So he was especially pissed off when the redhead’s eyes went immediately to the miniscule tick pulsating above his left eye.

  Her voice vibrated with absolute glee. “Haha, I knew it. So when this anomaly crossed between worlds, it entered through the Cloud Gate, didn’t it? I went down there and ran some tests that night and got all kinds of cool readings and stuff. Did you know—”

  Mir cut her off.

  “Okay, I’ll bite. Just for the sake of argument, what kinds of tests did you run?” Despite his frustration at the hole she was digging herself into, he was finding this stranger utterly fascinating.

  “Oh you know, the usual. Radiation. Seismic. Light detection imaging. Stuff like that.” She folded up the sign and tossed it behind her where it imbedded itself into a snowbank. “The thermo-magnetic tests were especially enlightening.”

  Mir’s head was spinning. “And you are who, exactly?”

  “Nobody,” she murmured absently, her eyes shifting over his shoulder toward the Tower. “Or rather, nobody you’ve heard of. Yet.

  “Look, here’s the deal. If I’d created a doorway between two worlds, that door would have to remain stable. Because I’d want an escape route, just in case I needed to get home, right?” There was a sense of urgency in her voice. “Except when this thing came through, the massive amounts of energy it dumped completely destroyed the gate. The radar imaging I took showed definite degradation in the region surrounding the sculpture, which shattered into pieces. The readings were immense. The phenomenon emitted was so powerful, it bent the magnetic field around Millennium Park. You have noticed the spatial distortions, right?”

  Mir hadn’t, but he’d be heading down there tonight to check things out. “Go on.” Under the thin fabric of his hoodie, he shivered and rubbed his hands together. “Tell me something worthwhile, and you might earn a pass inside.”

  Intelligent green eyes searched his face, and this time when she spoke, her words came out clipped and deliberate.

  “If I was in your shoes, what I’d really want to know, was now that this anomaly is on Earth, what will it do next?” She held his gaze unwaveringly. “Where will it go? Or if it moves between worlds again, how and when will it do so?”

  Not breaking eye contact, she continued, her voice hushed, “My specialty, the one that brought me to your doorstep, allows me to answer both these questions for you.”

  The redhead licked her chapped lips, a movement that Mir followed with an interest that seemed to reach down deeper inside him than it should have.

  “And now, for the golden ticket.” Her pale eyes held his. “I can predict where it’ll come through next.” She flashed him a mocking smile. “More accurately, I know precisely where the anomaly will come through, and which n
ight such an occurrence will take place. Based on a year of study and analyzation.”

  Something in the way she spoke—the utter arrogance in her words—made Mir consider she was telling the truth. “And where would that be, exactly?”

  Her smile faded, and she crossed her arms. “Warmth and food first, deets after.”

  The jut of her chin and the set of her hips told Mir he wasn’t getting a better deal, so he motioned her to fall in behind him and started toward the building, warning her, “I might find what you have to say intriguing enough to invite you in, but just so you’re aware, the rest of us aren’t so accommodating to strangers.”

  “Mir?” she asked, halfway across Michigan Ave.

  “What?” He stopped dead, and she slammed right into the back of him.

  Eyes sparkling, she stepped back, rubbing her nose. “Nothing, I just figured that’s who you were. You’re not Balder, ’cause you’re not shiny enough. Not Tyr either, because I’d expect the God of War to be a much meaner. You seem…super smart. Which means you’re Mirmir, the God of Memory, right?” There was an undercurrent of giddiness in her voice he didn’t like. Not one single bit. Mir kept walking, hoping she’d just shut up. He had no desire to discuss who and what he was with a mortal.

  She hurried to keep pace. “I can’t even tell you how thrilling this is for me. After all this time…” She drew alongside him and stuck out a gloved hand. “I’m Sydney, by the way…Sydney Allen. It’s a pleasure to meet one of you guys.” Her excitement sawed at his nerves, especially when he knew what lay ahead. And she didn’t.

 

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