"What do you need from us?" Mikhail asked.
"I need for the three of you to meet up with my twin. Ailuin has a small group of Asgardians helping to keep the werewolves at bay, hopefully killing as many as they can, but they are outnumbered. You have contacts in the partisan resistance?"
Mikhail nodded. "I can get word to at least a dozen or so groups in this area. They probably won't arrive in time to fight the werewolves, but they can help if another group attacks. There are a couple of resistance leaders close by who I trust. Witold Pilecki is hellbent on trying to get the Allies to listen to him regarding the prisoner camps and would welcome the chance to save as many as he can in Vilna. His men are the most loyal I've ever seen. The second is a Ukrainian leader who would be especially useful here. His name is Petro Vershigora. He and his men have been hunting down the Einsatzgruppen and freeing the remaining prisoners. I know his group is planning on liberating the camp at Lwów, Poland. This will put him and his men where they need to be."
"Alva wasn't sure what gifts you brought to the table, but I see one clearly. You have the sight?" Lamruil asked.
"It has been in my family a long time. Freyja gifted my great-grandmother a special stone when she was a young girl to help her focus her visions. She passed it to my grandmother who then gave it to me when I was a youth."
Lamruil's eyes widened. "Was this stone covered in swirls of blue and green with etchings on one side?"
Mikhail nodded. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled something out. Turning his hand over, a beautiful polished stone rested on his palm. "It's labradorite. It will summon Freyja if the right spell is invoked."
Lamruil stared at the stone, amazement on his face as he pushed away from the desk, stopping in front of Mikhail. "I haven't seen this in almost five hundred years and wondered what she'd done with it."
Mikhail's mouth opened then snapped shut, and his eyes dropped to the special rock lying in his palm. "This was yours?"
Lamruil nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "It was my mother's. My brother and I gifted it to Freyja for taking us in when our parents were killed. Ailuin and I always considered her our substitute mother, but neither of us would voice that aloud. While our lineage is now gone, we have certain abilities most elves don't have, and she has always encouraged us to use our gifts." His blue gaze met Mikhail's. "Your ancestor must have impressed Freyja greatly to have been given this stone." Reaching out, he closed Mikhail's hands, momentarily resting his own over the fist. "Keep it safe—always. Remember this, change the name to be summoned and either my brother or I will come to your aid. If Freyja has chosen you as hers," his gaze touched on the two women before returning to Mikhail's, "we can do no less."
Dropping his hand, he stepped back. "Now, my brother has need." He raised his arms and cut through the space between them in a circling motion. Inside the circle, dark clouds roiled then cleared to show them a conflict in progress. "Go to Ailuin and tell him his twin has sent help. Follow his orders. He is fearless in combat and, against these beasts, will keep you alive. I will keep the unconverted soldiers who remain safe for as long as I can."
Mikhail retrieved his gun and stepped through the tall circle, followed by Natalya, and lastly, Aleksandra as they dropped into the battle raging around them.
20
Jakob finished dressing and ran his hands down the sides of his shirt where the material had been shredded by the werewolf's claws. He shook his head in amazement. The cloth's weave was pristine, as if nothing had happened. He tucked the shirt into his pants and shrugged into his jacket, feeling more like himself than he had in a long time.
He tugged on the hem of his jacket and met Freyja's gaze in the mirror. Turning, he noticed Idunn step into the room as well, a pleased expression on her face. "Well?" he asked. "Now what?"
Idunn threaded her arm through Freyja's and walked in sync with her as they crossed the room, stopping in front of him. Reaching out with her hand, Idunn finger-brushed the hair from his forehead then ran the back of her fingers over the hair on his cheek. "You clean up so well. Are you quite sure you won't let me shave the beard and mustache? You have such a handsome face. It's a shame to cover it up."
Jakob bit back a smile. The goddess had asked him that same question for the last five days. Evidently, she did not like facial hair on men. "No, thank you, Idunn. As a soldier, it's easier not having to worry about shaving, but I've explained this to you several times now."
Freyja chuckled. "Of course, you have, my dear. Once her mind is set on something, not much can change it. Aren't I right, Idunn?"
"Oh shush, you two. Impertinent people." Idunn scoffed and glanced away, but not before Jakob caught the grin on her face.
"Am I going back to Vilna?" He hoped their answer would be a resounding yes. He wanted—no, he needed—to see Aleksandra. The entire time he'd been here healing and resting, his every thought had been of her. He wanted to be by her side, no matter where she went. He now knew what he wanted in life—Aleksandra. The war no longer mattered as much as it had before his death. The long hours alone in Asgard had taught him to step back and take a moment to simply breathe.
Of course, after Freyja showed him the God's Glass and his parents and their deaths, he'd realized just how much he'd fought the truth. He had heard whispers about Sachsenhausen over the years and knew they were most likely dead. He just didn't want to hear it. To know and accept he was alone in the world wasn't something he'd wanted to acknowledge. Now, though, if she agreed to marry him, he would have Aleksandra, but he needed to get back to her first.
"Not Vilna," Freyja said. "Your group is back in the Ukraine with a few of our friends, trying to stop an army of werewolves."
Fear pierced Jakob's heart. He knew the difficulty in bringing these monsters down when it was only a couple of them at a time...but an army?
"There's also one more thing I need you to remember before I return you to Midgard—Earth. A friend of mine has discovered and verified the Nazis are designing a contingency plan for Hitler in case the war turns bad for him and his army. The plan is for key players in Hitler's inner circle to use different routes across Europe to escape, we believe, to Argentina. Before they finish constructing them, I need someone to find the exact routes, so we can stop them before they leave. We know there is one that begins in Altaussie. We can't let Hitler set up shop in South America to begin his Fourth Reich, which he is already planning."
Jakob scrubbed a hand over his face, suddenly weary about everything. With this information, they faced insurmountable odds. He and his friends couldn't be everywhere at once, so how were they supposed to get ahead of the Nazis?
"You know I can't just let Aleksandra, Mikhail, and Natalya face these beasts alone. They're going to need my help. What do you need me to do?"
Freyja threw a quick sideways glance at Idunn then turned her amethyst gaze back on him. He now recognized the worry swirling deep in her eyes, but he also saw determination and strength there as well. This Norse goddess was definitely a force to be reckoned with. He was thankful to be on her side.
"I planned to bring in a few good people—two at least, but possibly more. One is flying reconnaissance missions, gathering intel for us. The other will arrive in due time but will have a steady strength and deviousness of character we will desperately need in the coming months, but we will have to hold out until then. In the meantime, we can only do what we can. Odin is already suspicious, so I don't dare make a move just yet."
"Do you need me to go to Altaussie and find out where the trail leads?" He tamped down his rising anxiety at not being with Aleksandra. He owed these two goddesses his life, so if they needed him to do something, honor forced him to accede.
Freyja smiled. "You are a very good man, Jakob. You honor me just by asking."
"I owe you everything, My Lady."
"I'm not without my means, even now. When Alva returns, I will send her and a companion to discover what they can while you and the others stop the werewolv
es from reaching Vilna. New shipments of prisoners are arriving in the next day or so. If the army is not stopped, I don't have to tell you the death toll will be grave."
"I won't fail you—either of you," he promised with a small bow. "May I ask about your plans for Aleksei? I know Aleksandra and George will want to know."
"He will be much safer and happier here for the time being. We will take very good care of the child. For now, you and the others will need total focus on the tasks at hand." Freyja raised her arms and made a wide circle and a fiery golden light appeared.
The surrounding air grew heavy, and his lungs struggled to breathe. The room faded as the light encompassed him, surrounding him with darkness. He glanced over his shoulder, watching the goddesses fade. The last thing he saw were their eyes, sparkling gems of amethyst and sapphire. As he moved away, the orbs lessened until finally blending into the plethora of stars flying past him as he sped toward Earth.
The blue planet's size increased in front of him. So quickly, in fact, he wondered if he was on a collision trajectory. He blinked, not wanting to miss this experience and realized he had begun slowing down. He recognized the outline of Europe, which morphed into mountains and plains. A minute later, he could make out the forests and rivers speeding toward him. He noticed a strange tan columnar formation growing larger until he landed on the top. His body tilted forward, but he caught himself and, with arms outstretched, teetered back and forth a few times until he regained his balance on the mountain of rock.
Glancing around him, he realized he was alone. He reached around to his backpack and pulled out his binoculars, focusing on the armies beneath his perch. His breath caught in his throat at the battle raging below him. There were at least two, maybe three hundred werewolves spread out around the valley. He focused the lenses and watched as seven tall, lithe men brandished swords with a fluid ease. Some of the men had long black hair and a few others blond, but they all seemed to dance through the throng of beasts.
The sharp glint of silver from the sunlight hitting their blades momentarily blinded him, but he couldn't look away. One werewolf after another fell under their onslaught. Who are they? He moved the binoculars around, trying to see where his friends were—where Aleksandra was. He soon found Mikhail and Natalya standing off to one side. Natalya's arms were outstretched, and her face was a mask of concentration while Mikhail stood by her side, pistols in hand, firing at any monster who got too close.
Behind them was a small hill. Looking closer, he noticed multicolored flowers growing between rocks and realized it was actually a pile of boulders that must have been there for quite some time. Along the base and scattered across the hill's face were scraggly bushes, but what caught his attention were the small evergreens rising from the top. A quick glimpse of metal flashed in the sunlight, and he caught sight of a rifle barrel sticking out from underneath a tree branch, the end moving toward a new target. Behind the hill of rocks, surrounding that whole section of the valley was a thick line of trees where the forest met grassland.
He narrowed his gaze, following the weapon to where it disappeared behind the tree trunk. Catching a glimpse of a darker green, he adjusted the binocular lenses to focus in as close as he could get. He watched a feminine hand adjust the scope lens then cradle the barrel, his mouth forming a smile. He exhaled in relief. He'd found Aleksandra.
He threw his pack on the ground by his feet then unslung his weapon and lay on his stomach, stretching his legs out behind him, and adjusted his body a few times to get as comfortable as he could on the rocky top. Placing the rifle in front of him, he settled onto his elbows, which were close to the edge, and studied his first target: a massive black beast made its way toward one of the black-haired men who was fighting with his back toward it.
Letting out his breath, he aimed, took note of the soft breeze on his finger, and fired. Without waiting to see the body fall to the ground, he picked out his next target and repeating his motions, brought another down. He continued to do this time after time, losing count as the bodies piled up.
A sudden peripheral motion caught his attention. Staring through the scope, he moved the rifle until he saw three werewolves disappear into the forest. He caught a second glimpse as their dark silhouettes headed in Aleksandra's direction. He grabbed his bag and slung the strap over his shoulder. Gripping his rifle, he took off across the rocky surface. Before he knew it, he was in the woods, dodging trees as he ran. His feet flew over the forest floor, so fast he never felt the ground.
Hearing a low growl close by, he stopped to listen and realized he wasn't even winded from the fast-paced run. He had always been light on his feet, even winning most races he entered in his youth. This, though, was something altogether different. Freyja had warned him he might discover he had new abilities.
He froze as he caught a glimpse of a dark shape in front of him. Edging himself behind the trunk of the nearest tree, he focused on the terrain, waiting for the three to show themselves. With a quick glance to his left, he saw Aleksandra lying partially under the trees as she continued to take out her targets, seemingly oblivious to the danger creeping up behind her.
He thought about telling her through their mind link but knew that was a bad idea. She needed to keep her focus on those in front of her to help Mikhail and Natalya along with whoever the tall men were, so he stayed silent and crept from tree to tree, closing in on the three from behind as they made their way toward his woman.
He raised his rifle into position and fired off three bullets. One was a clean shot through the head of the last werewolf. The other two shots missed, hitting the arm of the one in front as the beasts advanced. The middle werewolf wasn't hit at all.
With a low curse, he fired again, blood and brown fur flying off the shoulder as the middle werewolf jerked to its left and disappeared. The front beast, with its strange gray fur blending in with the silver-green leaves of the trees, made tracking it difficult.
Listening to the forest's silence, he heard a slight scraping of fur against bark. He almost smiled. He slid his Bowie knife from its sheath hanging from his belt and turned it around in his grip. Holding his breath, he felt the ominous presence nearing. He was so totally focused on the beast's movements, in his mind, he saw the bipedal monster angling closer to where he stood. Just one more step...
Using his newfound speed, Jakob twisted around just as the outstretched claws raked through the air toward him. He ducked under the muscled arm and jabbed the sharp blade into the werewolf's armpit. The beast let out a horrible howl, which changed into an angry snarl as it turned to face him, but Jakob was already in position. His blade sliced across the monster's neck with such force, it almost severed it.
A frightened scream rent the air. He sped through the last few feet of the forest in time to see the last werewolf's clawed hand wrap around Aleksandra's neck and raise her from the ground, growling at her. Her feet dangled as she held on to the furred arm, her eyes wide with terror.
I'm here, mein bärchen. Right behind him. Keep looking at him.
I...can't...breathe...
Aleksandra was too close and would be in the way if he tried to shoot the beast. Using all his strength, he stabbed the monster between the shoulder blades and jerked the blade down. The werewolf screamed, dropping Aleksandra, who crumpled in an unmoving heap near the rocky ledge. If she turned over... Jakob willed her to stay still as red-stained claws hurled toward his face. He stepped back in a feint then darted forward again, surprising the beast as he stabbed it in the chest, hoping to reach the heart. From the way its chest barreled out, Jakob wasn't sure the blade was long enough.
"I'm going to enjoy killing you," the werewolf snarled as it hunched over as if preparing to jump.
"You can try," Jakob taunted. With another burst of speed, he launched himself at the monster, using its thighs as a step, and embedded the entire length of the blade into the creature's eye. He continued the forward motion, stepping first on the chest then using a shoulder to leap
over it as the werewolf fell.
Jakob landed and raced over to Aleksandra, gathering her in his arms. Holding her still-limp body against him, he pressed a kiss on her forehead, his fingers resting against her neck. Her pulse beat strong under his finger pads. He breathed in another sigh of relief.
"Aleksandra," he whispered. "Come on, sweetheart, you need to wake up. Our friends can't fight these things alone. They need our help."
She stirred. A low moan slipped out, turning into a sharp gasp as she tried to wrench her body from his embrace. "Shhh, mein bärchen, it's only me. The beast is dead—you're safe."
She twisted, wrapping her trembling arms around his neck. "I was so worried about you." She leaned back and cupped his face in her hands, her eyes moving down his body before meeting his gaze. "You are completely healed?"
He nodded, taking in her pretty face. It was even more beautiful than he'd dreamed. "Good as new—maybe even better."
"Your aura is lighter. I'm so happy for you, Jakob."
"I don't know what my aura looked like before but, without a doubt, you're the reason it has changed." He pressed a quick kiss on her soft lips then helped her up, tucking a strand of her long, silky hair behind one ear. "We need to get back to the battle. Our friends need us down there." He still heard Mikhail's pistols firing when a werewolf drew too close to Natalya.
Aleksandra's eyes widened. "Oh! I almost forgot what I was doing." She scrambled to where she had laid and pulled her rifle back into position. "There's room here beside me—use the other tree for cover. It's a great position."
He settled next to her as she shot and killed the werewolves below them. "You were the shooter firing from the top of the columns, weren't you?" she asked, keeping her focus on the battle.
Aleksandra Page 21
