Oathbreaker (The Godhunter, Book 3)

by Sumida, Amy

  “I kill them all?” He looked hopefully at me.

  “Yes, that would be one way to handle things,” I patted his arm. “Or we could try a less bloody approach.”

  “An eye for an eye,” he winked his one eye at me.

  “And a tooth for a tooth?” I grimaced. “Then the whole world would need a cane and dentures.

  “So I grab one of them and torture him till he tells me what they’re planning,” Odin stared hard into the fire.

  “Is that really necessary?” I racked my brain for a different solution.

  “I don’t know what else to do, Vervain,” he raked his hands through his hair, a gesture that was achingly familiar to me.

  He looked so miserable, I couldn’t help myself. I put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him against my side to comfort him. I felt his arm slide around my waist and his face was warm against my shoulder. That warmth seeped through my skin and filled me, tugging at memories I wasn’t ready for.

  Suddenly I was in his lap, my legs spread to either side of him. His face lifted higher with the movement and nestled into my neck. A moment of denial made my body rigid but when Odin breathed deep and sighed, it sent shivers over my skin and loosened my limbs. I felt his arms tighten around me and my body slid against his in a perfect fit.

  I found myself stroking his hair gently, soothingly, and he sighed again before lifting his face slightly and bringing his lips to mine. It was barely a touch, a question more than a caress, but I started to tremble. The Love rose inside me, filling me with fluttering butterflies, and urging me forward against him. I heard Odin inhale sharply as the magic shot from me to him, a strangled moan rolling through him as he deepened the kiss.

  The butterflies had caught fire, but instead of consuming them, the fire strengthened the seemingly delicate magic. They rushed through me with their fiery flapping, igniting every nerve in my body until Love was overwhelmed by Lust. It flared even brighter than the butterflies, a tide of fire, a wave of desire, rising to drown us both. I pulled back and tried to clear my head but images of making love to Odin kept flashing through my mind, weakening my already disintegrating will.

  “No!” I threw myself back, landing on the floor with a solid, bone-jarring, lust-killing thud.

  “Vervain,” Odin reached for me and I backed up further.

  “Go,” I held out a hand to ward him off. “Please go, Odin.”

  He closed his eye and took a deep breath before he nodded. “Okay, I’m sorry, Vervain. Just please don’t leave before we talk about this.”

  “Odin, get out now,” anger made my eyes burn. I knew this wasn't all his fault but I also knew I'd never be able to get myself under control with him in the same room.

  Odin walked to the door without another word and I was rather proud of myself for being able to wait until he closed it before I burst into tears.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A knock interrupted my pity party and I wiped my eyes as I stared hard at the door. “Go away, Odin. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Vervain, it’s Balder,” his steady voice carried through the thick wood easily.

  I swiped harder at my eyes and went to open the door. Balder was standing there holding two mugs.

  “I saw my father downstairs and thought you might need a drink,” he smiled gently and held up the mugs, “hot mulled cider with a little splash of rum.”

  “Thanks,” I managed a smile of my own. “Come on in.”

  I took the mug he held out to me and led the way to the couch in the sunken floor. I gestured for him to sit as well, then took a long drink of cider. It was warm, strong, and soothing. I felt better immediately.

  “Father didn’t look too happy,” Balder grimaced. “Do you want to talk about it or pretend it didn’t happen?”

  “Let’s go for pretending,” I smiled brighter. “So where do you live? I’m assuming it’s not here.”

  “My Hall is called Breidablik,” he threw an arm casually over the back of the couch. “I live there with my wife Nanna and our son Forseti.”

  “You have a wife and son,” I took another comforting sip. I could feel the tension leaving my body. “I didn’t even consider that Odin could be a grandfather.”

  Balder laughed and it sounded a little muted to me. I peered at him in confusion; my eyes were getting really heavy. It had been a long day, so it wasn’t surprising but I didn’t want to be rude and fall asleep on him. I struggled to keep my eyelids up.

  “Father loves children,” Balder was saying through my fog of exhaustion. “He was very pleased to become a grandfather.”

  “Where is Breidablik ?”

  “It's over the mountains behind us,” he pointed out the window, toward the forest.

  “Is that where the rest of the Norse gods live?” I was trying to think of appropriate things to ask but it was getting harder to concentrate. “Over the mountains?”

  “Yes,” he smiled brightly. “Thor needs to live near the entrance to Asgard because he's the guardian but Odin prizes having a large territory to himself. So the rest of us decided to build on the other side of the mountains to given him space.”

  “And your son,” I frowned, trying to clear my head. “I assume he's a grown man. He didn't want to build his own Hall?”

  “Forseti doesn't really concern himself with material things,” Balder waved his hand dismissively. “He has a focused mind, like his father.”

  “I’m so sorry, Balder,” I rubbed my eyes and put my mug down. “I’m having a hard time staying awake. Could we finish our talk later?”

  “We’ll have plenty of time to talk, Sabine,” Balder’s eyes were above me and I had no idea how I’d ended up lying down. I felt him lift me and the last thing I saw before I passed out, were his fiercely glowing eyes… like polished gold in sunlight. The eyes of a predator.

  Chapter Sixteen

  My head hurt like I’d drunk cheap wine all night and forgot to chase it with water. I groaned and tried to move but my hands felt heavy, weighted. Also I was cold, almost numb in spots, and achy everywhere. When I was finally successful in opening my eyes, I saw thick manacles enveloping my wrists and ankles, with chains linking them to a huge ring in the stone floor.

  Well at least this time I wasn't hanging from the wall.

  I heard someone walking behind me and struggled to stand up and face them. Balder’s brightness seemed to fill the dark chamber but instead of being comforting, it was terrifying. Too harsh, too bright. An interrogation lamp shining on a victim. It made me long for the shadows.

  Balder burned with a passion that bordered on the insane, a shine reserved for psychotics and zealots. There was a horrible satisfaction in his eyes and an evil twist to his lips.

  “Hello, Sabine,” he squatted down in front of me, raking his gaze down my body and then up again, like I was a new form of disgusting.

  “The name’s Vervain,” I narrowed my eyes, “but you can call me Godhunter.”

  “So cocky,” he laughed. “You are Sabine. The way you reacted to Vidar confirms it. Welcome back to Asgard, witch. Too bad your stay won’t be quite so pleasant this time.”

  “Okay, I give up,” I raised a brow. “What did Sabine do to you?”

  “To me?” He spread his hands. “Not much, you only stole my father’s love away from my mother.”

  “Odin said his divorce was amicable,” I frowned. I didn’t like the thought of being a home wrecker.

  “Sure, that’s what Mother wanted him to think,” he sniffed. “She’s a goddess after all; she wouldn’t let him see her tears. Those she saved for me. To him, she showed nothing, not even when he cheated on her with Rind or when that whore bore him Vali and then abandoned him to my mother's care. Odin expected her to care for his bastard and she said nothing, she let him have his way because she was his wife and that was the most important thing to her.”

  “That sucks,” I grimaced. “Sounds like Odin was a dick.”

  “Yeah, he was,” Balder
narrowed his glowing gaze on me. “Then he met you. He told Mom they were both obviously unhappy. He said he'd felt obligated to marry her because she survived the fall of Atlantis with him, fought to create a new life with him. Then he tells her he never loved her and it would be cruel to continue the marriage when his heart wasn't in it. So she gave him his divorce and left his Hall in disgrace. But the biggest insult didn't come till he married you and moved you into our home. A human! Over my mother. Over a goddess. There is no other explanation but that you bewitched him. You stole my mother's life, her position amongst the gods. I had to comfort her while you bore my father another son. I know who he favors despite what everyone says. He loves Vidar best because you pushed that sulky brat out your body.”

  “He loves all of you,” I don’t know why I even tried to argue with him; he was obviously too far gone. One foot in the divine looney bin.

  “Loves all of us? He's betraying all of us, just to have another chance at you.” He grabbed the front of my dress and pulled me closer. “Maybe I should see what all the fuss is about.”

  “That’ll be real valiant,” I nodded serenely. “Raping a woman will show him good, huh?” He slapped me hard and I felt my face hit the floor with enough force to split the skin. I got back up slowly. “Or you could just beat on a woman, that’s almost as manly.”

  “I’m not just going to beat on you,” he snarled, shoving his face into mine. “I’m going to torture you till your screams are like the sweetest music to my ears. I’m going to cut up that pretty face until it’s as ugly as the soul it hides, and then I’ll bring my mother here, so she can torment you too. Your pain will be a balm to her own.”

  “Why does it always have to be about a man?” I pulled my legs up, planting an elbow on my knee and resting my chin against my fist, so I could ponder the dilemma properly. “So far, I've been accused of stealing two husbands and one potential husband. The first so-called husband had been divorced for hundreds of years and the potential husband happened to be a crazy Aztec I was completely uninterested in. Well mostly uninterested. By the way, Aphrodite was already married when she accused me of stealing her future husband, the aforementioned crazy Aztec. Now you're holding me responsible for something I evidently did in a previous life. I'm not even sure how to defend myself against that one. I just can't believe it's always about a man. Even when I think it’s not going to be… it is. Life was so much simpler when I wasn’t dating anyone.”

  “You think this is funny?” Balder stood up and pulled a whip off the wall. I winced. I’d been whipped before and it was not one of my fondest memories. Actually, that was the time I'd been chained to a wall, so it was getting really déjà vu. “Am I entertaining you now, whore?”

  “You know I’m getting a little tired of being called whore, when I haven’t even been sleeping around.” I stretched my back and heard a satisfying crack. “Why don’t you at least wait for me to act whorish before you start slinging dirt?”

  “You have the soul of a whore,” he flung the whip back. “Whether you’re currently whoring or not is regardless.”

  “Well that’s convenient. Were you by any chance, a part of the Spanish Inquisition?” I rolled my eyes. “Hey here’s a thought, why don’t you try blaming the one who made marriage vows instead of the woman he seduced. You’re like a scorned wife, always blaming the mistress when the one truly at fault is their man.”

  “You think I don’t blame him?” Balder laughed. “I’m the one who’s turned his people against him. I fully intend on killing my father and claiming his place as leader.”

  “Hmmm,” I pursed my lips. “Very old school, and this whole confiding in the hostage thing is very Dr. Evil of you, but here’s a hint… don’t tell your victim your plans. That just about guarantees their escape. Haven’t you ever watched a James Bond movie? Roger Moore was my favorite, no offense to Sean Connery but Sean improved with age, you know? Anyway, I’ve had about enough of this, so I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to unchain me and we’re going to go have a discussion with your father about how naughty you’ve been. Then maybe you two can work this out like adults.”

  “And why would I do that?”

  “Because if you don’t, I’m going to drain your power till there’s nothing left but a shiny shell.” I smiled sweetly.

  “I heard something about you stealing Aphrodite’s magic,” he frowned thoughtfully, taking an unconscious step back.

  “And killing her as I did it,” I tried to sound as tough as possible, even though the sight of the whip alone was enough to make me want to vomit.

  “There’s more than one way to skin a cat,” he backed up to a door I hadn’t noticed.

  “Now I’m really going to have to kick your ass for that cat comment,” I sighed. “I don’t want to hurt you, Balder.”

  “Good, that’ll make it so much easier for me to hurt you,” he smiled and backed out the door.

  “Wait,” I cried as he slammed a bolt home. “Fuck. I should've just shut up and killed him.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I spent the next two hours trying to come up with a spell to unlock my manacles but spellwork without the aid of accessories(herbs and candles etc.) was the gods’ specialty. Humans liked props and most of the spells I'd memorized were made by humans. I actually owned a lot of god spellbooks that I'd inherited with Pride Palace but the only one I'd spent any time perusing had been the one I took from Ku's home and I hadn't come across a spell for opening locks in it. When I got home, I was going to look for one. This was getting ridiculous.

  “Alohamora,” I said and focused intently on the manacles.

  Hey, it was worth a try but instead of freeing myself in a burst of dramatic magic, I remained firmly chained to the floor like a dog. Which was an annoyingly cold place to be when you were dressed in a cute pink cotton dress. Why'd I take off my damn daggers? Balder probably searched me anyway, and to that, I just want to say: Eeewwww.

  So I sat there with my dress tucked firmly around me, meditating on the twisted predicament I was in. I couldn't believe I was faced with the possibility of killing yet another god that was closely connected to one I loved.

  The last time, I had to kill Sif and it had cost me Thor. Then there was the current situation with Demeter, and Persephone's feelings to consider. If I killed Balder, would Odin reject me? Would that even be a bad thing? Things were so complicated, maybe Odin leaving the picture would be an improvement. Even as I thought it, I felt a cold lump of fear form in my belly. I didn’t want to lose Odin again. There, I admitted it. I loved him and I’d lost him once through death already. I didn’t want to lose him again over his son’s stupidity.

  Then again, Odin had been the one to call Thor a fool when he’d left me over the Sif incident. Would he feel the same when it was his son I killed? It hinged on me being able to kill Balder in the first place. I mean, maybe Balder would kill me. I grimaced, no, best not to think like that. A fighter had to think positively or she was doomed.

  I definitely maybe had a chance of killing Balder. Nah, Balder was a pussy, what was he going to do, shine on me? I tried to remember what I’d read on Balder… shiny, happy, Mama’s boy… right, she made him invulnerable to, like, everything. Of course no one would have taken into account a witch’s power to drain a god. Maybe I did have a shot… yeah, definitely maybe.

  Then the strangest thought occurred to me. Was my love for Thor somehow connected to Odin? They were so alike in looks, just differing in coloring. Did this part of me that was Sabine feel attracted to Thor because he reminded her of Odin? Was that the reason I hurt so long over the Thor break up?

  I tried recall the reasons I used to love Thor and all I could come up with was a picture of his face. No, that's not right, Thor was a great guy. He had a lot of qualities that would make someone fall in love with him. I just couldn't remember them at the moment. Whoa, that was really messing with my head.

  “Swing low,” I started to sing as I r
attled my chains for dramatic effect, “sweet cha-a-a-riot, coming for to carry me ho-o-me.” My voice echoed off the stone walls, coming back at me with a vengeance, and emphasizing the fact that I was a painter not a singer. The rat in the corner actually hid his head under his little paws. I sighed and gave up all my rock star dreams.

  What the hell was Balder doing with a dungeon anyway? I mean, Aphrodite had her own little torture chamber but that was because she was a sadistic freak with a blacksmith god for a husband. Talk about the perfect pairing. But why did Balder, Mr. Shiny Happy Sunshine, have a freakin' dungeon? Did all gods have one of these, just on the off chance they may have to lock someone up and torture them indefinitely?

  Oh fuck, what would happen to Trevor? Or my lions? Or Vidar and Odin? I was starting to hyperventilate. It was hard enough when I just had myself to worry about but now there were so many more people I was responsible for. My dying would screw up so many lives, even end one. My heart started to race so I began to take deep breaths. I wouldn't be able to think, much less defend myself and find a way out of this mess, if I was too busy worrying about everyone else.

  Finally, I laid down and tried to sleep. No one would even start to wonder about me until the morning, so I couldn’t be expecting the cavalry any time soon, and there was nothing else I could do until Balder decided to brave my presence again. I closed my eyes and wrapped myself in thoughts of Trevor, Odin, and Vidar. What the hell kind of name was Vidar anyway? I bet Odin had picked it. Hmph, men.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The sounds of battle woke me and I rubbed at my eyes as I tried to clear the sleep and my weirdo dreams away. Sleeping on cold stone while shackled in chains was not conducive to a good night’s rest.

  I finally focused on the door and saw it start to shake. I stood up, eying it warily, and was happy to find that all the effects of the sedative had worn off in the night. I was standing steady by the time the door burst open.