by Brook Rogers
Suddenly, I wasn’t alone inside my body. Something else had wedged itself in here with me. That’s when I saw the eyes. They floated in the woods, bodiless, hovering over a dark smudge of empty space.
The crippling whine faded to whispers. They started out soft but quickly grew louder, multiplying. There were so many, coming from everywhere at once. I wanted to scream at them to stop. It was too much, but the presence inside my body held me immobile.
One watery androgynous voice rose above the rest. “Children, hussshh. She must hear and undersssstand.”
The last thing I wanted was to be forced to listen to some diatribe right before I was eaten. Hopefully, they made it quick and got explosive diarrhea tomorrow.
Finding that I still had control of my eyes, I rolled them as far as I could to either side. Peep lay motionless directly to my right, facedown in the dirt. To my left, Dubhlain was on his knees like me, back bowed slightly, arms straight down with his hands clenched into fists. I couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or not.
The whisper came again, more forceful this time. “You are not what you think. Seek out the truth and balance the ssssscales. Do not forsake your bonds. A sword is not complete without its shield. Prepare for what comesss.”
I didn’t even have time to assimilate the cryptic-ass message before something shoved me forward. Hard. I expected to hit the ground, but instead a yawning void greeted me, and I was falling.
There was no “tuck and roll” when I landed. By sheer dumb luck, I had my hands out and kept myself from face-planting. Dubhlain wasn’t so lucky. He ate it hard when he landed beside me. I couldn’t stop the laugh that popped out, and he shot me a glare as he wiped blood from his split lip. Probably karma for making me go first.
Three more thuds and a chorus of groans announced the arrival of Conall, Bran, and Peep. The incorporeal creatures had transported us out of the woods. Spinning around, I tried to get my bearings. A wall of those tall interwoven trees stood at our back, making a return trip impossible.
In front of us was a portal, much larger than what I was used to using. I walked closer. More endless short brush and grass stretched out beyond it, much like where I’d entered the Hell Plane.
For all its weird proportions, the portal looked stable. The gray surface swirled calmly, and the grass in front had been trampled to bare dirt, I assumed from steady use. But I didn’t know where it exited to.
I turned back to the group of men, who were slowly getting to their feet. “Does anyone know where this portal goes?”
They all shook their heads. That was what I figured. We were officially lost in the Hell Plane—unless we wanted to try the mystery portal, which could spit us out gods knew where.
“Are we gonna talk about what happened back there?” Bran prodded as he dusted off his backside.
“No,” Dubhlain and I answered simultaneously. Conall and Bran stared at us.
I studied the big berserker. Had he gotten the same kind of pep talk I received? His scowl made me think not. But maybe that was just due to his wounded pride after I’d laughed at him. My eyes dropped to a burned spot on his shirt, which revealed the weeping red—and more completed—bond rune. These marks we shared were pushing us together for a reason, but I was still hesitant to accept it. My inner voice of logic casually pointed out that it wouldn't hurt to get to know the man. Miss Kitty zealously agreed.
“The entity that spoke to you . . . I heard it too. We can discuss it later. They didn’t place us here without purpose. We should use the portal,” Peep said with a cough.
Whoops. I must have been shouting my dirty thoughts again.
I was just about to ask what the plan was when Conall swore loudly. His pronounced accent made me brace myself; whatever had pissed him off would be bad.
We all discovered the source of his ire at almost the same time. Our weapons, other than the ones on our bodies, hadn’t made the trip with us.
Dammit. The sweet Benelli was gone. A pang of sadness hit me over the loss.
All three of the berserkers had lost their pistols, and Peep no longer had his utility knife. It just didn’t feel right to leave the demon without some means of defense anymore, so I pulled one of the Kimbers from its holster. After all, now was as good a time as any to test whatever strange connection we had forged.
I asked him if he had ever used a handgun before, and he shook his head. After receiving a quick lesson in its operation, he accepted the weapon from me, clearly still uncomfortable handling it.
Opinions differed on what we should do from here. Conall wanted to portal home to get more guns and ammo, but that would leave two of them without portalling capability once we got back here. Dubhlain agreed with me and Peep: we should use the oversized portal now, in case it led us to the Manticore. Bran preferred to travel until we reached the nearest settlement so we could find out exactly where we were, then plan a route from there.
Majority rules.
“Since the portal’s big enough, we can at least go in pairs,” Conall grumbled in resignation.
Nobody argued; it was a sensible suggestion. Two people would have better chances than one if we stepped into a dangerous situation. Since our group was an odd number, the last person would have to go solo, but by then, four of us would already be there.
Everyone armed themselves with what they still had. I pulled the khopesh from its sheath and drew my remaining pistol. Bran and Conall held impressive swords, while Dubhlain unsheathed his sais.
He hadn’t used them since the night we met. Little trills of arousal pinged around inside me as I watched him handle them. There was just something about the way his muscles tensed and flexed when he was gearing up for a fight that got me hot. Even the determination on his face had me wanting to fan my crotch. I bit my lower lip to contain an appreciative sigh.
Peep coughed. Right. I shook my head to clear it.
Dubhlain and I paired off to go first, followed by the other two berserkers. Peep would be last.
A cup of coffee would taste so good right now. I took a steadying breath and nodded at Dubhlain. He smiled, and that demon dimple made things below my waist dance merrily as we passed through the portal together.
Chapter 24
I’d prepared myself for any number of things—mostly bad—when we came out the other side of the portal. But I still wasn’t prepared for what we stepped into.
The destruction took my breath away. What had once been a portal clearance station was empty and broken, the clear dome shattered, the metal turnstiles bent and scattered. Our boots crunched on the glass-covered floor. I spotted a pair of legs sticking out from behind one of the only walls still standing, but after rushing forward, I realized it was pointless. The Enforcement officer was dead. Other bodies lay sprawled throughout the rubble, some Enforcement and others dressed in plain clothes. Travelers—in the wrong place at the worst time.
As the five of us approached the remains of the front doors, dread knotted inside me. Did the Manticore do all this? Would that crazy Fae bring the stone back to the human realm? I could tick off at least a dozen better places to go if I wanted to hide something valuable.
A light breeze blew the smell of water and boat fuel over me. It was warm here. Much warmer than where I’d portalled from in Arkansas. City sounds drifted through the broken front doors, and that’s when it hit me: the only public portal located in a city of any kind was in New Orleans.
The Global Council tolerated the New Orleans portal because it was one of the oldest public portals in our realm. The runic deterrents that surrounded it kept Normals from accidentally wandering into the station, but they didn’t extend very far, so as not to disrupt the flow of tourism to the shops.
The doors led us out to the Riverwalk, where the cruise ships docked, but the area was deserted. Trashed food-vending stands lay overturned in the pathway, but we didn’t find any more casualties. Thank the gods the people operating the stands had time to get out.
The damage
led up the stairs. As we reached the top, I could track the progression of whatever caused the destruction by the overturned cars in the parking lot.
I started to worry. If this was the Manticore, Enforcement would be all over it, and their primary goal would be to neutralize the threat. That was both good and bad.
“They won’t know it’s our link to the stone,” I said, glancing at Dubhlain.
Dubhlain’s eyes widened as realization set in. “Shit. They’re gonna kill it. Maybe we can get them to hold off?”
We started to run, our boots pounding loudly on the pavement. There was no way to know how much time we’d lost in the forest. What if we were too late?
My heart stuttered when I spotted the large casino, but as we got closer, I could tell it had been spared. A group of people—along with a cluster of city police cars and unmarked Enforcement vehicles—had gathered across the street from it though, in front of a different building. Dubhlain and I slowed to a walk.
The entire right side of the Audubon Insectarium had been ripped apart, the decorative metal entrance arch now leaning precariously. A police officer was in the process of cordoning off the area with yellow caution tape. Enforcement personnel patrolled the sidewalk, trying to keep the growing crowd back while a group of wraiths worked furiously above something on the ground—just in front of the Insectarium’s entrance.
We pushed our way through the crowd, and I flashed my Enforcement ID at the policeman with the tape. If it had been one of the Enforcement officers, they’d have noticed the apprehension stamp on it and denied me. This guy only saw the Enforcement credentials and waved us through.
We stepped under the tape and edged closer to the wraiths. The cloaking magic they were weaving was excellent; whatever was there was completely hidden.
This whole situation was a giant clusterfuck. The media coverage alone would be a nightmare. They’d be pulling in all the Enforcement Supes who had suggestion magic to take care of that growing pile of Normals gawking.
One of the wraiths stepped back from the circle, shaking his hands out and closing his eyes wearily. How was he already here? We were either much later than I thought or Enforcement had been notified the Manticore was coming. But how?
“Hey, Xane,” I said as I got close.
His eyes popped open, and his head snapped around to me. Shock flitted over his face, but it morphed quickly into . . . suspicion?
“Ray. What are you doing here?” He watched me guardedly. I wasn’t supposed to be here, but why was he acting as if I’d done something wrong?
I scrubbed a hand over my face, keenly aware of how dirty and sweat-stained I was. A hole in my shirt revealed the rune and an indecent amount of boob. “It’s a long story, Xane. Please, just tell me that what you’re covering up isn’t a giant monster—one with a lion’s body and human head?”
To his credit, he didn’t give much away, but I’d been around him long enough to know his tells. When one eyebrow ticked up fractionally, I had my answer.
My shoulders drooped, and a heavy weight settled in my chest. “All right. Thanks.”
He gave me another strange once-over before going back to his place in the circle.
There went our chance of finding the Fae. Even if the Manes stone didn’t work as a key to the Underworld anymore, it would have been nice to recover it—and to make the Queen’s lackey pay. At least Enforcement had taken care of the Manticore.
I blew out a long sigh. I thought this would feel different. We had succeeded, so why did I have this sense of foreboding—like bad things were coming?
The berserkers moved a short distance away and huddled together in conversation. I turned to Peep. A hollow ache had taken up residence in my chest, but it wasn’t mine. It was Dubhlain’s. I couldn’t pinpoint the emotion though.
Peep held my gun out, and I took it from him and slid it back into my holster. “You are unsettled.”
His simple statement summed it up, and I gave him a small smile. We’d been pushing so hard, with laser focus, on the goal of retrieving the stone, and suddenly . . . it was over as abruptly as it began. All I could do now was wait and hope no one would be able to use the stone. Oh, and take some demon fire to a certain witch.
“Peep, I need a favor,” I said, my smile widening.
To his credit, he only paled a little at my words. “I know what you want. I’ll give you my fire as thanks for saving my life”—he held one finger up—“as long as you let me keep it until we arrive at the witch’s.”
That sounded fair to me. But before we got on with Verlina’s payment, I had one more thing to take care of. I needed to find Grand-mère. And in order to do that, I needed to go back through the portal, even if she probably wouldn’t want me to.
“I’m coming with you. You may not like it, but I might be able to help. There is nowhere else for me to go.” Peep’s voice in my mind sounded a little sad. I didn’t have it in me to deny him. Besides, if I was heading back to Hell, I could use the company.
“Let’s get some coffee,” I told him.
It had been a rough couple of days, and I was going to, by the gods, take the time to eat a beignet before I left New Orleans. There was a Café Du Monde downstairs at the Riverwalk, and that’s where I was headed. An older lady tsked at me when I passed her, and I realized it might not hurt to snag a clean shirt from one of the vendors too.
“Wait!” Dubhlain yelled from behind us.
I glanced back but kept walking. Conall and Bran headed off up the street as Dubhlain jogged toward us.
I’d reached the limit of my capacity to deal with whatever this was between us—my out-of-control hormones, the magic of the mark forcing us together—all of it. I didn’t sign on for that level of commitment. Plus, Bran had told me the gorgeous berserker came with a whole bag of issues that included Oonagh, whoever and whatever the hell that was.
I had plenty of my own shit that needed sorting—my mind just didn’t have room for his. What did the whispering creatures in the forest mean by “You’re not what you think”? If I wasn’t a valkyrie, then what was I?
Rubbing my eyes in irritation, I crammed that into the time-out box too. I needed to ask Grand-mère about my parents again, although I was sure she hadn’t left anything out. Why would she?
The Irishman drew even with me. Gods, he was nice to look at. This would all be so much easier if he was ugly. Damn the Fates.
“I could go for a coffee too. Think I’ll tag along,” he said with a grin.
It almost hurt to tear my eyes off that dimple. I needed some space before I lost the battle against the magic of the mark and gave in. Ripping my clothes off and riding him into the sunset sounded better than a hot drink right now. And that scared me.
The sun was setting when we reentered the Riverwalk. I didn’t much feel like talking, so we headed down the stairs in silence, passing by groups of people who had started to clear away the mess the Manticore left behind.
Peep offered to stand in line to get our coffees and beignets so that Dubhlain and I could find a table. A couple stood to leave, and we slid into their chairs at a speed that bordered on rude.
It felt good to sit down, even if only for a short time. One of my legs was sore as hell. Trying to relax, I watched the people as they came and went, careful not to meet Dubhlain’s eyes. The weight of his stare bored a hole into my forehead.
“You can ignore me all you want, Raywen, but the soul mark is almost complete. I see your uncertainty. While I may be understanding, he isn’t. He won’t forget you, and this won’t go away.” He paused, waiting for me to acknowledge him. When I didn’t, he continued on, irritation bleeding into his voice. “I’ll try to give you some time to come to terms with it. Finding my mate wasn’t something I ever thought was in the cards for me, but now that I have . . .”
I finally looked at him. The white flames were back in those beautiful blue eyes, and my pulse sped.
“Don’t forget, he’s been waiting five hundred years,
and his patience is wearing thin.” He finished just as Peep came to the table with our order.
Dubhlain stood, grabbing his Styrofoam cup. He nodded his thanks to Peep, gave me a last meaningful look, and left. I stared after him. Oh, that was how it was then? I got no say in the matter? He may have made peace with this mate situation, but I hadn’t.
Peep slid into the now empty chair across from me, concern wrinkling his brow. He could probably feel my anger.
I just needed to “come to terms with it,” did I? Scoffing, I picked up one of the sugar-covered confections and bit into it. The sugar and fat made my taste buds sing, and my mood lifted fractionally. I might just start eating my feelings if they all tasted this good.
Stupid berserker.
A plan started to form in my mind, and I smiled to myself, licking powdered sugar from my lips. Peep’s eyes got big, and I winked at him.
A commotion near the door of the café caught my attention. Three Enforcement officers muscled their way through a group of laughing and chatting tourists. Blame the sugar rush, it took my brain a bit to catch on to the fact that they were making a beeline for me. I didn’t recognize any of them, and the hostility in their postures made my muscles tense. What did they want?
The first officer let a set of nulling cuffs dangle from one hand as the other two boxed me in from behind. “Raywen James?”
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Yes?”
“You need to come with us. Enforcement has charged you with conjuring a magical creature into the human realm.”
The whole thing was so ridiculous I laughed, shaking my head incredulously at Peep. When I started to protest, the officers behind me jerked me up and out of the chair, and I was cuffed and being marched out of the café before I could get any words out.
I couldn’t see Peep when I tried to look back, the watching tourists blocking him from sight. Some gawkers even tittered and recorded my departure with their cell phones.
I’d helped to prevent a megalomaniac from opening the Underworld, and this was the thanks I got? What a crock of shit. I didn’t have time to sit around rotting in an Enforcement cell. Grand-mère was still in the Hell Plane somewhere, and Verlina was waiting for her demon fire.
