by Лори Девоти
Kara twined her arm through her sisters. “That’s funny. I used to think I was afraid of everything.
16
Risk rolled to his feet and turned back toward the battle.
Another howl, then the garm stood in wolf form. Black with a sprinkling of gray around his face, he shook, his hair fluffing out to make him appear even larger. The males on top of him scattered. Feet splayed, lips pulled back in a snarl, the garm swung his head from side to side in a clear warning to any challengers.
Risk had to move fast, before the other hounds changed and an all out forandre war began.
“Garm,” he bellowed mentally. One major benefit all forandres in their nonhuman form shared was the ability to speak telepathically. This privacy was essential to Risk’s plan.
The garm ignored him, his blue eyes scanning the room for the next attacker.
With a growl, Risk pulled back on his haunches and leaped, landing four feet from the snarling garm.
The garm turned sideways, his tail stiff and the hair on his neck raised.
“Garm,” Risk repeated.
“Call them off, hound,” the garm said in Risk’s head. “Nothing gets past here without my permission.”
“Grant it.” Risk moved with the garm’s movement, the two of them traveling in a slow circle.
The garm barked out a laugh. “You think I’ll let you through now?” He motioned with his head toward Lusse, who still stood hands outstretched, power pouring from her. “She’s an idiot. She’ll never break through.”
“Maybe, but she’s an idiot with power. If you don’t play her right, she’ll make Niflheim look like a spring romp through the woods.”
The garm scoffed again.
“And isn’t she worthy of the toll?” Risk asked.
The garm shook his head. “She isn’t under control, that’s a requirement.”
“Yours or Jormun’s?”
The garm growled.
“If Jormun wants witches, he’ll want Lusse. She’s drained more witches in her immortal life than wolves have fleas.”
“Ha,” the garm replied. “Is that how you grovel?”
Risk snarled. “I don’t…” He let the words fade off. He was in the garm’s territory. Circumstances in which a forandre could never submit. But one of them had to.
“Attack him,” Lusse screamed.
The witch was getting tired. Risk could smell her frustration. The other males who had been standing back waiting for Risk to make a move stirred.
“Hold,” he yelled at them. Then for Lusse’s benefit, he lunged toward the garm, snapping at his neck.
The garm danced backward, his wolf eyes narrowing. “I can’t beat you with your witch and your pack here, but I can shut down the portal. I can move it. You’ll never find your twin witch — the one you sniff after.”
“You’re right. I want to save her. Let me through with Lusse, and I’ll grovel. I’ll turn my head and let you rip out my throat — just let me save Kara and her sister first.”
The garm paused, his tail dropping an inch. “For witches? Stubborn witches who ignored all warnings? Who are too distracting for their own good? I didn’t want to send them to Jormun, you know. I tried warning both of them away — but they were stubborn.” The last came out as a growl.
“Let us through,” Risk urged again.
The garm glanced around, his tail lowering more with his indecision. “It’s too late. If others hear the witch…” he shifted his gaze to Lusse “…challenged me and got through, I’ll have a parade tromping through here, thinking they can best me, too.”
“No one will know,” Risk pledged. “Why should they? I brought my toll.”
The garm hesitated, the hard edge in his eyes softening. Then Lusse screamed out again, “Kill him.”
The garm’s gaze narrowed.
“Sigurd. If Risk won’t kill him — you do it, and you will be alpha,” she bit out, her arms shaking, sweat trickling down the side of her face.
Sigurd roared. The air rippled with new energy as the hound changed.
Risk moved so his back was to the bar, the garm on his left and Sigurd, shifting quickly, on his right.
“Scared, alpha?” Sigurd asked, his toes flexing as he settled into his canine form.
“Back down, Sigurd,” Risk growled.
Sigurd lunged forward, his teeth brushing Risk’s fur.
“This is the pack you command?” the garm asked with a snarl of disdain.
Risk stared at the other two forandre, both willing to rip out his throat to get what they wanted.
What they wanted, Risk repeated to himself.
“Sigurd.” Risk swung his body, blocking Sigurd from lunging again. “You want to be alpha? Fine. I submit.”
Sigurd lowered his head, a hank of hair falling into his eyes. “Submit? You’d never submit. I saw you in the pit, when Lusse declared you alpha.”
“That was before,” Risk replied.
“Before?” Sigurd shifted backward, his eyes moving from Risk to the garm.
“Before I had something to lose,” Risk said.
Sigurd paused. “The witch?” he asked.
“Yes.” And Venge, but Risk didn’t want to reveal their connection yet.
“What’s the price?”
Risk opened his mind so both the garm and Sigurd could hear his reply. “The garm will let Lusse and I pass, but in exchange, you have to guarantee no word of what happened here escapes the bar.”
Sigurd glanced around. “The hounds aren’t a problem, but what about the others? The patrons who ran out of here?”
Risk stared him in the eyes. “You’ll figure something out.”
Sigurd lowered his head in thought. “And Lusse?”
Risk growled. “If all goes well. She won’t come back.”
Sigurd laughed, his tail twitching to one side. “And I’d still be alpha?”
“I won’t challenge you, and Lusse’s other offer…” Risk stared at Sigurd knowing he’d realize Risk meant the ownership of the other hounds “…will be void.”
Sigurd tilted his head in consideration, then glanced at the garm. “And you, wolf?”
“You keep your part of the bargain I’ll keep mine — but with one more restriction.” He shifted his gaze to the group of males behind them. “No hounds in my bar — ever.”
Sigurd tilted his head. “As if we’d choose to come here.”
“Swear it, or no deal.”
A growling rumble escaped Sigurd’s throat. “Sworn.” After giving the garm one last hate-filled glance, he turned his head back to Risk. “Anything else?”
Risk glanced at Lusse, then back at Sigurd. He had to ask one more thing. “Once we’re through I want you to free the whelp, Venge.”
Sigurd raised a canine brow. “He is yours.”
Risk leveled his gaze. “Agree?”
“He’ll still be bound to Lusse, you know that.”
Risk nodded. “As I said, if all goes well, she won’t be coming back.”
The three males turned to stare at the witch, her face pale with exertion, curses streaming from her mouth.
With one last nod, Sigurd stepped out of his way, and Risk moved to her side.
Within seconds, the portal opened and Risk shoved Lusse, still cursing, through the doorway.
Lusse fell forward. Risk quickly stepped in front of the witch, keeping her from landing on the floor.
She shoved off his back and righted herself.
“What happened?” she heaved out, her hair disheveled and her breath coming in angry puffs.
“We did it. We’re through the portal,” he murmured to her.
Risk scanned their surroundings. It was dark, raven’s-breast black actually, but with his hellhound vision, he had no problem making out where they were.
“It’s a tube, I think.” He stepped forward, leaving Lusse leaning against the now solid doorway they had entered through. “It isn’t long and there’s another door ahead.”
> “What do you mean tube?” Lusse shoved her hair away from her face and unhooked her cloak. “Why is it so hot? I despise heat.”
Risk pressed his nose against the tube wall. “We’re in a passageway, but it’s round, like a tube. I think the walls are clear, but I can’t tell what is on the other side.”
“What a waste of time. Let me.” Lusse pulled back her sleeves and held up one hand. “Lyse.”
A faint glow bubbled in her hand, like the dying embers of a campfire. Lusse stared at it, the glow just enough to light her shocked face.
“What did you do to me?” She swung toward Risk, the power in her hand pinging off the sides of the tube like BBs.
How Risk wished he had the ability to drain her powers, but not now. Now he needed her to be strong — strong enough to tempt Jormun.
“It’s nothing. You’re just tired after battling your way through the portal.” He prayed this was true. “No one has ever done that before,” he added, hoping to cut off her anger.
Lusse fisted her palm and pulled it to her breast. “True, and Sigurd now has the garm, right? No one except the gods can claim ownership of a garm.” She smiled.
“And you,” Risk prompted her.
“And we are near Jormun?” she asked, her hand relaxing to press against the tube’s curved wall.
“Very near.” Risk padded forward, leaving Lusse to fend for herself. The witch wouldn’t take offered aid easily, and he had no real desire to ease her journey.
He reached the end of the tunnel and turned to look for her. She struggled along, trailing her cape and tugging her gloves from her hands. “What now?” she asked, coming to a halt beside him.
“Another door,” Risk said. “It’s guarded. Can you feel the energy?”
She shot him a scathing glance. “Of course I can. Your only advantage here is your hellhound sight, and that I’m a bit worn. Don’t be getting any ideas, alpha.”
“Never, Lusse.” Risk sat back on his haunches. “What is our next step?” Risk waited. It was important that Lusse feel confident when they arrived in front of Jormun. Let her think she was in control.
Lusse dropped her cloak and gloves, then lowered herself on top of them. “We wait. My powers will rebuild and I will blast our way in, or someone will open the doorway before then. Either way, I’ll soon learn what Jormun has been up to.”
His body rigid beside her, Risk turned his gaze to the doorway.
Let Sigurd and the garm keep their parts of the bargain, he prayed, or he might be stuck in Jormun’s realm with Lusse forever.
17
A sharp pain shot through Kara’s shoulder. Blinking, she sat up. It was bright again, and the hissing had stopped.
She rubbed her shoulder then her neck. She must have fallen asleep sometime while the giant snake was still twined around their capsule.
Something flopped against her leg, causing her to jump.
Just Kelly’s hand, lying limply across Kara’s thigh. Kelly always had been a bed hog. Moisture welled to the back of Kara’s eyes. Thank God she had found her.
Moving to the side, she carefully lowered her sister’s hand to the floor and stood up.
Within seconds, Kelly rolled to her feet and landed in a fighting pose, legs braced apart, one fist guarding her face, the other ready to strike.
“You’ll make a wonderful mother some day,” Kara drawled.
Still in attack mode, Kelly didn’t reply.
“Kelly.” Kara waved her hand in front of her sister’s face.
Kelly tilted her head, her expression softening. “Sorry. I’m a bit on edge.”
Like she needed to explain her state of mind to Kara.
Kara watched as her sister shook out her arms and then proceeded to twist her body into a series of yoga moves. “Kelly?” she prompted.
Concentrating on a point somewhere out in the Midgard Sea, Kelly didn’t reply.
“I need to tell you something,” Kara continued.
Kelly twisted her body into a triangle position, then stood. “Tell.”
Kara took a deep breath, her eyes focused on her sister’s face. “Maybe we should sit.”
Kelly stared at her for a moment, then turned and walked to the other end of the tube.
“Kelly?” Kara called after her, surprised.
“Don’t say it,” Kelly replied.
“Don’t say what?”
“What you’ve been trying to tell me since you got here.” She turned, the pain on her face shooting through Kara like a spear. “You know something, don’t you? Something about Linda — why I haven’t seen her here. Why those other capsules are all empty now.” She walked to the wall and pressed both palms against it. “I don’t know what happened to all of them. I don’t think I want to know.”
Her black jumpsuit clung to her body, emphasizing the line of tension running down her back. “That’s terrible, isn’t it? Not wanting to know? Being…afraid.”
Kara took a step toward her sister, her hand raised to reassure her.
Kelly spun, her eyes bright with anger. “I was so stupid. That bartender told me I was when Linda and I went in there the first time, but I didn’t listen to him. I talked Linda into going back — to keep looking.” She stood there, her body shaking, her eyes staring unseeing ahead of her. “And now…” She looked at Kara. “She’s dead, isn’t she? I killed her.”
Kara stared at her sister, the strong one — the one who had saved her over and over and who now stood shaking at the thought of her failure — and dropped her hand to her side.
It was Kara’s turn to be strong.
“It wasn’t your fault. Everyone makes their own choices. Just because you believed it was the right thing to do — going back to that bar. It doesn’t mean Linda didn’t want to, as well. It doesn’t mean whatever happened to her wouldn’t have happened anyway.” Kara stepped forward and heaved out a breath. “They are hunting us. If it hadn’t been Linda, it would have been another witch, eventually all of us. You were right. We have to stop this — stop them.”
Kara held out her hand, palm up. “We’re going to stop this.”
Risk’s ears flipped forward; the sound of hissing came from the other side of the doorway. Someone was coming.
“Lusse.” He turned to the witch who sat with her chin resting on her knees, her eyes faraway and swimming with dark plans. “They’re coming.”
She smiled. “Good.”
Now was when Risk needed her to play along with his plan, but she couldn’t know he was manipulating her.
“What is our plan?” He projected the question into her mind.
She shrugged. “My power has almost returned. I’ll blast the guards and take what I want.”
“The witches?” Risk asked.
“Yes, and whatever.” She flicked her gloves in the air.
“But…” He let the thought trail off.
“What?” she snapped.
“Nothing, just, it would be a shame if we left before you had a chance to learn all of Jormun’s secrets.”
Lusse twisted her mouth.
“Maybe there is a way to spend time in Jormun’s world without him suspecting your goal. You can blast your way free and steal the twins whenever you like.”
She tapped a finger against her lip. “Yes. He wants witches, doesn’t he?”
Risk nodded. “The most powerful.”
A smile split Lusse’s face. “And who is more powerful than I?”
“No one,” Risk murmured, praying it wasn’t true.
“Exactly. There must be some way to gain his trust…” She slapped her glove against her palm. “What was it that garm insisted on?”
“A toll,” Risk murmured telepathically. If Lusse would cooperate, perhaps he could arrange a simple exchange.
Her nose wrinkled. “I won’t pretend to be a toll.”
Tension wove through Risk’s body.
“But we can pique his interest other ways. A challenge.” She clapped her hands together. �
�I’ve heard Jormun can’t resist a challenge. And since he was exiled by Odin he can’t have had any worthy opponents. We challenge his witches to a battle. He won’t be able to resist.” She laughed. “That will get us in to see Jormun, but I’ll need you to stall for time a bit, keep him busy some way — until I’ve had a chance to let my powers completely renew.”
The doorway began to pulse.
Lusse stepped forward until her thigh was pressed against Risk’s side. Reaching down with one hand, she snagged his chain. “And remember, alpha, I still own you. The power of this chain is no less here than it is in my realm or the humans’. If you attempt to escape me, I’ll throw your son in the pit and lock you in a cage for eternity.”
The doorway vibrated again.
Risk lowered his head in a silent nod.
Two strange hairless beings greeted Risk and Lusse as the door’s power shield thinned. Their huge eyes glowed yellow, and thin silvery tongues flicked out of their mouths, brushing against Risk’s fur and Lusse’s cheek.
She swatted at the intrusion.
“Lusse,” Risk spoke in her head. “Remember your plan.”
She frowned, but stood still, letting the creatures analyze them. They leaned together, their heads almost touching, hissing and waving their short arms toward Risk. After their consultation, one stepped forward, his tongue again flitting out of his mouth to dance over Risk’s face.
Risk froze, his hackles raising. When the tongue returned again, he raised his lip in a warning snarl.
The creature hopped backward, and the two engaged in another round of excited hissing.
“What are they?” Still in his hound form, Risk was able to keep his question audible only to Lusse.
“No idea,” she replied, not bothering to lower her voice. Her arms crossed over her chest and an impatient huff escaped her lips.
Risk inhaled, trying to identify the beings. They smelled of heat and moisture, like the tube, but stronger, and something else. Something that made his hellhound nature want to grab them by the neck and shake, something unnatural.
“They aren’t natural,” he murmured in Lusse’s head.
“Really?” She cocked a brow, her head tilting as she studied them in return. She held out a hand and waved it slowly toward them. “You’re right.” Excitement cracked her voice. “They are made.”
