by T. G. Ayer
A friend who had been horribly used.
A shudder rippled through me. Mika had been a snake in our midst all along. I'd trusted her because she'd seemed so honest, and because she was the daughter of a man I looked up to, a man I cared for. But it all made sense now. The tone in her voice the day we'd first met, sparring on the training fields. The subtle undercurrent to her explanation of why Fenrir now fought for Odin rather than against him. Her criticism had been so blatant then. But it only made sense when her betrayal had finally been revealed.
Mika had been my friend, and now her betrayal had probably just taken two of my best friends away from me. Would Fenrir and Joshua ever be able to look me in the eye again?
"Valkyrie Sigrun," Odin called out, his voice jarring me out of my self-pity. Sigrun hurried back to him, and the group of einherjar and Valkyrie fell into a wary silence.
"Yes, my lord." Sigrun sketched a quick bow.
"Valkyrie Sigrun. As Fenrir is otherwise engaged, the responsibility of the team will rest with you on this next mission."
My friend stiffened. Clearly, she hadn’t expected this, and from the set to her jaw she wasn't liking it at all. "My lord, I apologize. I feel that I should remain in Asgard and await Fenrir's return. I should be here in case he needs me." Sigrun's face reddened and she lowered her eyes. Only the slight shiver in her fingers told me she was terrified of Odin's wrath.
She need not have worried. "Very well then, Valkyrie Sigrun," Odin replied. A sad, soft sigh left his lips. "You can remain, but I do need a leader for this mission. I will require you to elect a replacement to head the scout team today."
Sigrun's head bobbed up and down, and her smile held a hint of her old cheery self as she sent me a knowing grin. "My lord, I choose Valkyrie Brynhildr. I do believe she has proved herself worthy of leadership."
Odin returned her smile, then met my eyes. "Child, this is a great responsibility." The All-Father's eyebrows wiggled as he frowned. "Are you willing to take on this role, to be responsible for the safety and the actions of your team?"
"I am, my lord," I answered, keeping my expression neutral. What else was I supposed to say? Hell no, I just want to go on the mission, not be the boss? Sigrun and Odin were crazy to put me in charge.
Chapter 38
An unexpected rush of relief flooded through me when my feet touched Midgard ground. Just being back home gave me a sense of security. Until I took a deep breath and gagged.
Until I registered exactly where Aidan and I arrived.
Until I took a deep breath and gagged.
The place reeked. The most disgusting and laughable thing was the familiar blue dumpster.
Aidan and I scanned the shadowed, grimy alley and grimaced at each other. We'd stood side by side as we arrived off the Bifrost, stepping right back into the stinking New York alley we both knew so well.
A glance at the wall behind me revealed the bullets still embedded in the brick. At my feet, dark brownish stains marked the spot where I'd dripped blood all over the filthy concrete. My last memory of this revolting alleyway was of being shot at, and the pain of Worthington's bullet plunging into my abdomen.
Sigrun, Aimee and Joshua followed a blink of an eye later, disturbing our trip down memory lane. Two other Valkyries, Enja and Pia, arrived along with them, completing the pairings for our mission.
Sigrun, of course, only meant to accompany us as far as the headquarters. Something about delivering a message from Odin to a Warrior named Erik, the head of the New York branch.
Sadly, we were a hodgepodge crew sans Ulfr. I didn't need to ask why they hadn't joined us. Mika's betrayal would've sorely hurt the Ulfr reputation, not to mention their pride. I had to admit, if only to myself, that I was very worried about Fen. I never got the chance to speak to him before we left. I'd realized, after all the time that had passed, that I'd finally actually forgiven him for the whole diving-off-a-cliff episode.
But that was then. Right now, I had to think about now.
Aidan snorted. "Of all the places in New York?" He shook his head and grimaced. The rest of the team took no notice of us; Aimee and Sigrun scowled at the filth, and the others wrinkled their noses at the stench. Aidan, on the other hand, took a deep breath. "Ah, the beautiful aroma of New York."
"Shut up and let's get going." I hid a grin and jabbed him in the ribs, no longer worried that he'd get hurt. He was all healed and as good as new now.
"What? Don't you want to take in the sights? The bullet holes and your bloodstains?" Aidan teased. I may have imagined it, but for the briefest second my bullet wound throbbed with an answering agony. I blinked, willing the memories away.
"What? Bryn, are you hurt?" Sigrun gasped, spinning me toward her to inspect me for open wounds.
"No, no." I glared at Aidan, who stood by watching and grinning as I fended off Sigrun's searching fingers. "Aidan's just being an idiot. I was shot right in this alley when we were looking for Brisingamen."
"Dear Odin. And Aidan wants to show us your blood?" Sigrun turned to Aidan, and I did a double take at the interested gleam in her eye. "Aidan, could you show us, please? We may not get another opportunity."
Aimee giggled, but I noticed she too watched closely as Aidan pointed out the little holes in the brickwork where stray bullets had punched into the brick. Then he revealed my bloodstains on the ground with a flourish of his hand that was ridiculous and funny, and a little sad, all at the same time.
I didn't bother to look behind me to check if Joshua paid any attention. I was sure I could still feel his stare burning into the back of my head. But I didn't want to drag myself back to that sad place where I mourned the loss of my best friend, nor did I want to examine feelings better left undefined.
At least Joshua was with us, even though he'd so far refused to talk with me. Maybe once we returned to Asgard things would be easier to resolve. Not that a broken heart would be easily healed no matter whom that heart belonged to.
"Come on, you guys, let's go," I said. The sparkle of horrified fascination in Sigrun's eye made me laugh too, and I was glad she was having some fun, but we had to get going. We had a mission to fulfill. I wondered if we would meet Fen at the headquarters, though I wasn't sure if I was looking forward to seeing Fen, or dreading it. I owed him a huge apology. But no apology could ever make up for what Mika had just done to him.
***
Following the directions Odin had given Sigrun, we found ourselves heading into Lower Manhattan, dodging the lunch-hour rush. My stomach churned with nervous anxiety as we walked along the busy New York streets shoulder to shoulder, not to mention wing to shoulder, with millions of strangers. I'd learned how to slap on a glamor fast enough, but I'd never been totally comfortable with the idea that all that prevented a random stranger from seeing my wings was a little bit of Asgard magic. And I knew the fiasco in the souk would haunt me maybe forever.
We stopped at the address and stared. I leaned over Sigrun's shoulder and double checked the details. Yes, we were meant to find Asgard's New York headquarters. So the last thing I'd expected was to end up standing on Wall Street, facing a towering, iconic skyscraper whose exterior alone held even the Craven kids in awe. Number Forty Wall Street was more than impressive, especially in comparison to Valkyrie Ingrid's rundown little suburban house outside of Cairo.
Sigrun handed out identification badges, which had our names and photographs, even barcodes. My eyebrow shot up in surprise and disbelief. The plastic tags looked real, and probably were real for all I knew.
I slung the tag around my neck and followed the group, my heart thumping as we entered the security area. A uniformed security guard narrowed his eyes at our group, his attention drawn to us as we bottlenecked at the modern security turnstile. But Joshua and Aidan quickly showed the Asgardians how to scan their ID tags, and we passed through without a hitch.
All the while Sigrun had seemed confident enough, even unfazed by the craziness of New York's streets, but as we approached a bank of gleaming elevato
rs she slowed to a halt.
"What's the matter?" I whispered.
"What are those?" Her forehead furrowed.
"They're called elevators. We use them to move up and down in the building."
"Like the Bifrost?"
"Yes, I guess you could call it a mechanical Bifrost," I agreed.
Sigrun stared, wide-eyed, when the doors slid open and spewed forth a crowd of people, none of whom seemed to even register us waiting at the doors. People way too busy with their own lives.
While we waited for the elevator to empty, Sigrun handed me a plain silver key. "I believe it is meant to assist with our entry to the headquarters," she said with a nod, her usual confident cheer a little subdued.
Inscribed in the key were the words "Private X12." Unsure of what I was meant to do with it, I entered the multi-mirrored elevator and scanned the number panel. At the very bottom, a little sign said "Private Access." Bingo.
I waited until our team filled the small space, then inserted and turned the key. The doors whispered closed and we rode the elevator in silence, the mechanical whirring of the contraption a stark reminder that we were very much in Midgard, with all its gadgets and electronic machinery. Almost a full minute passed before it sighed to a stop, the doors gliding open, spilling us into a plush reception area, all glass panels and peach fabric walls, complete with a nice little blonde receptionist. Boy, did I feel out of place, and frumpy, even though the girl was a foot shorter. The look on Aimee's face confirmed she felt the same way.
"Hello, how can I help you today?" Betty, as per her silver nametag, rose and smiled brightly at us. Half-amused, half-shocked, Sigrun's eyes flicked from the girl's deep cleavage to her teeny little skirt.
I stepped closer to Betty's desk and said, "We're here to see Erik. I'm afraid we don't have an appointment." I smiled politely, even when she inspected me from head to toe and then did the same to Aidan.
"That's not a problem at all. I'll get him for you." She turned to her desk, picking up her phone to tell Erik he had visitors. She kept her tone cool and neutral while her eyes ate Aidan up in one heated stare. Down girl, he's taken. I think. . . .
"Please have a seat, he'll be here in a minute," she said, but her attention had already moved on to Joshua. Fickle, Betty, very fickle.
"Thanks," I muttered. Nobody sat. I guessed none of the team were in the mood to relax. We just stared at each other in the mirrors and waited. Betty frowned at our rudeness but said nothing. She just dropped pertly into her seat to wait for Erik to appear, stealing a few more peeks at Aidan, who appeared uninterested and almost bored. Betty raised a piqued eyebrow and focused her eyes on her computer screen. Thankfully, we didn't need to wait for too long.
Erik, when he arrived, proved a surprise. He was every bit the tall, muscle-bound Warrior: implacable dark eyes, prominent, almost regal cheekbones, unsmiling face. But it was his African heritage that threw me. Silly, really, after having been exposed to so many different ethnicities within the Warriors and even the Valkyries. But, yet again, I was surprised by the multinational representation of the einherjar. Must be all those blond Vikings always associated with Norse mythology.
He gave us a ghost of a nod in greeting, ebony skin gleaming in the fluorescent light. "Thank you for getting here so quickly." He had a slight accent, and I had to remind myself to pay attention to his words instead of trying to place that curious rise and fall in his voice. He looked over at Sigrun beside me and asked, "Valkyrie Sigrun?"
"Well met, einherjar Erik," Sigrun responded, her voice filled with the utmost respect. Seemed Sigrun knew this enigmatic Warrior. And they were familiar enough with each other to elicit a mutually warm greeting. Now Erik intrigued me more than ever. "I have a message for you. Is there somewhere we can talk?"
"Of course." Erik inclined his head, and I found myself admiring the regal tilt to his neck. "Please follow me," he beckoned. We entered the inner room behind Betty. Inside, fingers tapped away at keyboards and the low hum of voices made a soft backdrop to the rapid clicking.
Erik led us through a warren of cubicles to a large, glass-walled meeting room— very professional boardroom type, fitted out in mahogany and soft leather. Very plush and so not typical of Asgard. Everything at this New York location, from the ID tags to Erik, seemed out of place.
He threw a quick glance at the gathered team and said, "Karl here will get you up to date while I speak with Valkyrie Sigrun." He nodded to a Warrior who stood stiff-backed at the doorway, a pile of files in his hands, hair sticking up in all angles, frazzled to the max. "I will return shortly."
I watched, curious, as he led Sigrun away. They disappeared into a room a few doors down the hall. Then Aimee tugged on my arm, and I directed my attention back to Karl.
Karl's dark eyes bounced from face to face before he cleared his throat. "Okay, guys." He stepped forward, and the pile in his arms jiggled, threatening to tip over his jittery elbow. "This won't take long. I think we have a situation."
I wanted to snort. From the look of him, I doubted he even knew what a situation was, much less how to handle one. He looked as if he belonged behind a computer, not as a Warrior of Asgard.
Karl made a quick lap around the room, passing out files, then sank into the empty chair at the head of the table. The leather squawked and Karl blushed. His finger went automatically to the bridge of his nose as if he meant to push up a pair of glasses. The finger stopped in midair, hovered for a moment, then lowered back to a pile of papers on the table.
He cleared his throat, and the sound echoed around the room, grating on my nerves. From Aidan's wince and Aimee's frown, I wasn't alone in my impatience with this bumbling fool.
"We've had a report from the field. Our last Retrieval was successful in more than one way. Not only were we successful in retrieving a healthy Warrior, but the assigned Valkyrie also reported a sighting of another missing Warrior, einherjar Brody."
I sat bolt-upright, shocked. The silence in the room lay thick and palpable. When Karl looked up, clearly expecting some sort of reaction from us, nobody stirred. Nobody dared to interrupt his speech for fear of missing the slightest detail. "She reported Brody to be healthy and in good condition. But there is one problem."
He paused in his nervous recital. It was, perhaps, this little but that the team had been waiting for. A but we had all been dreading. We all so desperately wanted to get Brody back, but the sense of the surreal still permeated the air. The blood beat steadily in my ears.
Erik chose that moment to enter the boardroom, without Sigrun. I felt slightly deflated that she'd left without a farewell, but that was Sigrun. All business when it was business.
The ebony-skinned Warrior stood by the door, arms folded. And I wasn't surprised when Karl glanced nervously at his superior. The big guy certainly possessed an intimidating presence.
Karl looked around the table before continuing. "Brody has been found imprisoned in a cell, in a basement, within the grounds of an estate in Virginia."
"Do we know who the owner is?" A weary roughness tinged Aidan's voice.
Karl shook his head. "The team is still looking into it. It shouldn't take too much longer." He flicked a glance through the glass windows and into the outer room for a few seconds, as if hoping one of the many people now seated at their workstations would rise and bring forth the required information.
Nothing happened.
He turned his gaze back to the table, threw me a nervous glance before directing his response at Aidan, "I will let you know as soon as I hear something."
He did not just do that.
In that moment, I realized that Karl's glance was not one of nervous regard. It was a more antagonistic emotion; Karl didn't like me too much.
Not that it bothered me who he did or didn't like. The only thing that mattered right then was that he'd already gotten on the wrong side of me.
He had completely disregarded my authority.
And he had just completely pissed me off.
Chapter 39
With the meeting over, Karl herded us into a large lounge, waving a hand at a refreshment table set up in one corner. Some real bucks funded this particular branch of the Asgardian scout teams. Compared to the HQ in Cairo this place was a friggin' palace.
Another small room, an enclosed balcony, led off the main lounge, and I snuck out into the grey sunshine, hoping to get some quiet time.
No such luck.
One of the two stone deck chairs was already occupied. By Joshua.
I froze, unsure if I should leave him alone or if he even knew I was there. Inching backward, with a hand on the handle of the slider, I meant to duck back into the room, but he turned. Clearly I wasn't as quiet as I'd hoped.
His dark eyes raked over my face, flicking for the briefest second to my wings as they danced with trepidation at my shoulders. Despite the weak sunshine, his face remained shadowed, probably darkened by the pain of his every thought. My heart twisted in sympathy, though a touch of anger edged the pain.
"You don't have to leave, you know," Joshua said in a low voice, his words slightly smudged as he hunched over, elbows on his knees.
I hesitated. Maybe talking to him right then was not the smartest of moves. But I wasn't famous for the smartness of my moves.
Before I decided against it, my feet dragged me the handful of paces to the nearest deckchair: a strange contraption that resembled an armchair but was constructed of pure white stone. Maybe poured concrete or marble? Whatever the deckchair was made of, one thing was pretty clear—it wasn't a creation meant for comfort. The stone seeped cold into my flesh, and the bleak morning light added not a drop of warmth.
A palpable silence blanketed the little balcony. This high up, the space needed to be closed off from the gusting winds by a sheet of glass. So just an illusion of being outside.
Joshua cleared his throat. I shuffled in the cold seat, my butt slowly freezing itself against the icy concrete. At last I drew up enough courage to ask, "You okay?" I wasn't a coward. It was just that this experience was new to me, and I was completely out of my depth. I'd be lost if he ignored me. Or stopped being my friend. Even the thought of it twisted me up inside.
