by Lauren Dawes
“I … I could hear what people were thinking.”
Eir sat back in her seat. “You can hear their thoughts?”
Mason kept his eyes fixed on his fingers in Sophie’s fur. “But it’s not everybody’s thoughts …” he sighed. “I didn’t know what it meant at the time. It was only after a while, listening and learning, that I realized I was hearing the thoughts of the gods and goddesses of the Nine Worlds.”
There. He had said it.
Now, to wait for the fallout.
Eir frowned deeply. “You can hear our thoughts?” she asked almost inaudibly.
“Yes, but it’s not like I enjoy eavesdropping. It’s just the side effect from the knock on my head.”
“Have you ever read my thoughts?” she asked, a sharp edge to her voice.
Oh, fuck. “Like I said, I don’t do it intentionally. I have to concentrate quite hard to block the voices out, and sometimes if I don’t have the energy, I just hear them.”
The Valkyrie’s lips pressed together. “How often do you listen in to my thoughts?”
“Never,” he answered honestly. “I don’t enjoy prying.”
“Does Bryn know about your ability?”
“Yes. So does Korvain. In fact, I’ve made a blood oath with him, so that I can’t discuss what I know with anyone else.”
“So you’ve just broken your oath to tell me?”
“No. I’ve already spoken to both of them about telling you.” He gave her a small smile that she did not return.
“Are you angry with me?” he asked after a few beats of heavy silence.
“I’m not sure,” she replied. “I’m not sure how I feel about this information.”
“I won’t be telling anyone else about what I know. Why would I? I would have to tell them how I know. It’s been a long time, and I’ve only recently told two people about it … well, three now.”
She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. “So only Bryn, Korvain and I know about this?”
“Yes.”
The goddess bit her lip, her eyes searching his face. “Why me? You didn’t have to.”
Mason inched a little closer to Eir. He wanted to touch her hand, her hair, her face. “Korvain found out about me when Bryn was missing last month. I didn’t want to tell him, but Bryn was in trouble and I would rather die than see her hurt. I told Bryn today because I wanted to tell you.” Reaching out, Mason took her hand in his, grateful she didn’t pull away. “I want you to know about me because I think there’s something here between us, Eir.” She looked away, but Mason pressed on. “Please tell me you feel it too.”
The back of her hand felt warm against his, but it wasn’t that same warmth as before. He hoped he hadn’t just fucked things up with her.
“I … I feel it, too, Mason,” she whispered. “But nothing could ever happen between us.”
“Why not?” he asked gently, stroking her silky skin with his thumb, rubbing slow, rhythmic circles over her knuckles.
“Because you’re a human and I’m a goddess.”
“I can’t see your point,” he said. “Eir, I haven’t felt this spark with anyone before. Never in my life have I wanted to share things with someone like I do with you.”
“I’m immortal,” she muttered, looking at him. “And you’re not.”
“If I get to spend a sliver of your immortality with you, I’ll be a happy man. Maybe we’re not meant to be together forever, maybe we are, but you can’t deny the electricity between us.”
Eir shook her head, and Mason’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach. “Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“Because I think you’re worth it. You know everything about me now.” Well, almost everything, he thought bitterly. “All I’m asking is for you to get to know me a little better. And I want to know more about you.”
She seemed to withdraw into herself then. “What do you want to know?”
Mason was triumphant. She was listening to him. He had a chance here. “Every damn thing,” he replied honestly.
At last, Eir seemed to relax, turning her body towards him. “You already know a lot about me. I’m a nurse, and I told you before that nursing was in my blood, but there’s more to it than that. You see, I’m not like Bryn and the other Valkyries. Odin made them immortal, but I already was.”
Mason frowned. “I’m not following.”
She gazed up at him. “I’m Eir, the goddess of healing. Odin brought me into the fold for my healing abilities a thousand years ago, and instead of staying with him when Bryn left, I chose to leave too. I just couldn’t see the point of serving the All-Father when the humans had forgotten about us.”
“So you really are a goddess?” he asked, completely dumbstruck. “And your palms?”
The goddess looked down at her hands and shrugged. “I heal through my palms.”
Mason’s lip tilted up slightly. “That’s the warmth I felt in the park and just now?”
“Yes. I can heal someone, or take away their pain, but I can also regulate their breathing, or help their heart to pump blood more efficiently. The only thing I can’t do is cure a fatal injury or disease. That is beyond my powers.”
Mason touched the cut above his eye. “And this?”
Eir sighed. “I could have healed that for you earlier, but I couldn’t risk you finding out about me … but if you wanted me to, I could still heal you now?”
Mason thought about that for a minute. He’d felt just a small part of what Eir could do. He shook his head. “Nah, I’d like to keep the scar.”
“Really?”
He gave her a cocky grin. “It’ll remind me of you.”
Suddenly bashful, the Valkyrie looked down at her hands again. “Is there anything else you’d like to know about me?”
Mason thought about that for a moment. “If you’d like to talk about it, I’d like to know about what happened to you last month.”
Eir’s whole body stiffened, and she wrapped her arms around herself, as if she were trying to hold herself together. Wrapping his arm around her slender shoulders, Mason pulled her warm body into the side of his, feeling her melt against him. She sobbed, her slight frame shaking, a tremor passing through her and into him. Mason willingly absorbed it, willing her to take some of his strength.
“Eir, we don’t have to discuss this if you don’t want to. I’m sorry I brought it up, really.”
He cursed himself for upsetting her. He didn’t need to know that badly, not now. If he had it his way—and he was going to make damn sure he did—he would find out soon enough. Eir had obviously been hurt during that time, and that thought alone had his blood boiling.
Eir’s sobbing didn’t let up, and her body was still shaking, but gradually she grew calmer. When he felt she could talk again, he hooked his finger under her chin and tilted her face towards his.
Her eyes were red-rimmed, her nose pink from sniffling. She tipped her head down, a curtain of her hair shielding her face from him. Damn, he had to admit that she looked pretty damn cute when she was being shy about being upset.
Pushing her hair behind her ear, he said, “Eir, please don’t hide your beautiful face from me.”
She bit her full bottom lip and all the blood in Mason’s body traveled south. Fuck, he was a bastard for even thinking about sex while this goddess was so upset. He placed his thumb on her lip and tugged the flesh free from her teeth. He could smell fresh spearmint, feel the warmth of her each and every breath.
He leaned forward another fraction of an inch, waiting, watching to see whether she would stay or whether she would bolt. When he could see she wasn’t going anywhere, he inched a little closer again.
Mason heard the hitch in her breath as he closed the minuscule gap between them, a hair’s breadth away from pressing his lips against the sweetness of hers.
The sound of a phone ringing shattered the silence, shattered the promise of his lips touching hers for the first time. He cursed as she pulled away, flustered, a
nd searched through her cardigan pocket. She glanced down at the screen for a moment, then looked up at him nervously.
“It’s Korvain. He must be waiting to take me to work.”
Mason looked over at the digital clock on his microwave; it was nearly five in the morning. While Eir spoke to Korvain, he listened to the velvety cadence of her voice. He let it wash over him, his eyes getting heavier and heavier.
“No, it’s fine. I’m with Mason. I’m sure he can take me to the hospital.”
At the sound of his name, Mason’s eyes flipped open, staring at the Valkyrie, who was now looking at him questioningly. He mouthed the word “okay” to her. Her lips flexed into a shy smile.
“Ah, sure, I’ll put him on. Hang on.” Eir handed the phone to Mason. “He wants to speak to you for a second.”
He reached for the phone, his hand steady, although his heart was jackhammering against his rib cage. “Yeah?”
“Guard her with your life,” Korvain said quietly. “You hear me? If she comes to harm, you come to harm.”
Mason remained mute.
“I’ll take your silence as an affirmative. Take your weapon with you. If you come across anyone even thinking about trying to harm her, shoot them between the eyes.” The softness of Korvain’s tone was at complete odds with the ferocity of his words.
“Is that a possibility?” Mason croaked out.
“I don’t think so. It’s just a precaution. Put Eir back on the phone.”
Mechanically, Mason handed the phone back to the goddess. She frowned slightly at the expression on his face.
After listening for a moment, she told Korvain, “I’ll see you this evening when you pick me up. Okay. Thank you. Goodbye.” She ended the call, and turned to Mason, clutching the phone in her lap. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you. If you can’t take me, I’ll get myself there.”
“It’s no problem.” Sophie lifted her head from his feet, looking at him with her big brown begging eyes. “We’re not too far away from the hospital. Let me grab a jacket, and we can walk there if you’re ready now. That way I can give Sophie a bit of exercise too.”
Chapter 23
Boston—1943
Darrion’s eyes passed over the newspaper, reading and re-reading the front-page article about the Allies’ advances in Europe. America had been involved in the Second World War for a little over two years, and there was no real end in sight.
Not that Darrion cared about the plight of humans.
This war of men didn’t stop his line of business.
He watched as one of his concubines entered the room. Dressed in the old style, she sat at his feet, looking up at him from under her blonde lashes. Darrion only kept female Mares to satisfy his more carnal needs and the needs of his men.
Reaching out, he gently touched the cheek of the female. He thought her name was Allynna. She smiled gently at him, although there was a hint of fear in her eyes. She was right to fear him. Without warning, he grasped her chin in his hand, forcefully digging his fingers into her tender flesh.
Allynna gasped in shock, tears coming to her eyes. She whimpered when Darrion brought his face closer to hers, putting them nose to nose, breathing in the same air. “You know what I want,” he whispered harshly.
With tears silently running down her cheeks, her fingers clumsily fumbled with the buttons on his pants. Darrion grasped a large handful of hair and held her to him as she brought him to orgasm. Satisfied for now, Darrion released her and pushed her away, staring at her swollen, gasping mouth in a detached way. Allynna scurried away from him on her hands and knees, backing up until she was pressed against the wall opposite him. Her wide, fearful eyes had yet to leave his face.
Methodically and deliberately, he redid the buttons on his pants. “Go and service any other males that require it,” he commanded coldly, dismissing her.
The female did as she was bid, leaving him alone in the private wing of the house he shared with his Walkers. A former boarding school, the place he called home for now was large enough to house his Mares—nearly a dozen of them—in relative safety.
It had been a long time since they’d been attacked by zealous Aesirean gods looking to pass the time, but keeping hidden and safe was still Darrion’s greatest concern. Darrion looked at the small brass clock perched on the mantle.
It was time.
Pushing himself from his chair, Darrion made his way to the one and only entry and exit point of their guild and faded to the location of one of his Walkers’ latest assignments.
Business had been good for Darrion despite the war. Human men working for foreign governments paid big money for the assassination of major American players in the war, and Darrion’s pockets had been well lined by their greed.
The target of this latest hit was a major backer in the arms manufacturing race, and Darrion didn’t give a fuck as to whose side he was on. He’d sent Connak to finish the job, but although he should have been Darrion’s best guy, Connak wasn’t nearly as fucking good as he ought to have been. He had won his quinary test by fucking default, and his contract was finally up.
Thank fuck.
Darrion faded to the palatial house the target called home. Connak was just stepping out of the front door, wiping his hands on a rag. The Walker’s preferred method of killing was with his hands. He liked to get in nice and close to his victim, to see the horror flash in their eyes, to see them silently beg for mercy and watch them feel the cold embrace of death.
Darrion stepped out from behind an automobile, asking in a bored drawl, “What did this one promise you?”
Connak’s dark eyes danced with humor. “More money than I could imagine plus a free pass on the conscription.”
“Humans will promise anything when their lives are threatened … but I think the same could be said for any creature of the Nine Worlds, too.”
Connak’s dark brows knitted together. “What do you mean?” He stowed away his rag and pulled out a thin cigarette.
Darrion began to pace around the Walker, watching him. Waiting for realization to strike. “How long have you been in my service, Connak?”
“This is my hundredth year …” He laughed. “Almost to the day.”
“So it is,” Darrion replied darkly. “And what will you do with your freedom, Connak … when you have it, that is.”
Connak lit his cigarette with a practiced hand and shook out the match, dropping it to the ground. The end of the cigarette flared in the darkness before a billow of pungent gray smoke erupted into the air.
“I have no idea really. Maybe see what the west coast is like. Hey, I might even start my own guild.”
Darrion wanted to smack the ridiculous grin off his face. Nobody completed their contract with him and walked away. After spending time training them, he wasn’t about to let them go and do whatever they wanted. They belonged to him.
They would always belong to him.
Darrion casually pulled out one of his throwing knives and pretended to dig dirt out from under his fingernails. Connak watched him warily and flexed his shoulders, no doubt feeling the burn of the tattoo he had inked into his skin.
Death before dishonor.
That tattoo was also Darrion’s fail-safe. No Mare under contract to him could physically harm Darrion, which meant if he were to attack them, even self-defense was out of the question.
He calmly took a step towards Connak, staring into his eyes for a drawn-out minute before viciously driving the length of his dagger into the Mare’s throat. A look of shock registered on the Connak’s face as Darrion withdrew the blade and plunged it in again and again and again.
When the life had left Connak’s pale blue eyes, Darrion stood over his body and wiped the spatters of blood off his cheek with the back of his hand.
*
Korvain stood in the shadows of the large house, observing the Mare Adrian wanted to swear fealty to. The sharp tang of blood hit his nostrils as the one called Connak fell, gasping, blo
od foaming from his lips. Korvain could see Darrion’s cold, dead eyes, watching the life drain from the Walker like it was nothing at all.
Korvain had seen his fair share of death—had even dealt out his fair share—but he had never wanted to join a guild. Once upon a time, when his kind was being hunted to the brink of extinction on the whim of a god, being a member of a guild had had its place. But now? Since the Fall?
Korvain just couldn’t see the point. He could disappear any time he liked as long as there was the whisper of a shadow he could wrap around his body. For Adrian, though, it wasn’t just about protection in numbers. Rather it was about being able to protect his sister, Taer, from the predators of both their old and new worlds.
Darrion faded from the scene, leaving the body of his former Shadow Walker behind for the human police to find. Korvain returned to the small apartment he, Taer and Adrian shared.
“Where’ve you been?” Adrian asked, looking up from the vegetables he’d been chopping for dinner.
“I went to check out that Mare you wanted to swear to.”
Adrian leaned against the counter, one eyebrow hitched. “And?”
“Have you really thought about this? I mean, really thought about it?”
His best friend’s face darkened. “If it means I can protect Taer better, then I’ll do anything it takes.”
“He’s a monster,” Korvain muttered under his breath. “I just think there’s a better way.”
“There’s not. He’s the most feared guild master in the whole Nine Worlds. That’s why I want his protection. No one would dare take Taer if she was safeguarded by Darrion’s reputation.”
Korvain cursed angrily. “What makes you think he wouldn’t take Taer and make her a concubine anyway?”
Adrian shook his head, but Korvain saw the flash of fear in his eyes. “I’ll negotiate with him,” Adrian said.
“You? You’ll negotiate with him?” Korvain shot back, his disbelief unmistakable.
“I’ll tell him if he touches one hair on Taer’s head, I’ll walk.”
“What if—by some miracle—you make it through the quinary on top and you get inked? You won’t be able to walk then.”
