As a final middle finger salute, the shadows obscuring the Orobus retreated, revealing Tyr, broken and bloodied, lying at the creature’s feet.
Shit. If she unleashed her power right now, the blast would eradicate everything in the vicinity. Including Tyr. If she didn’t, the creature would eradicate everything. Including Tyr.
In her history of spectacular failings, this debacle was in her top three. As Grim after Grim piled on top of her, crushing the air out of her lungs, her vision faded, and Hunter amended that estimation.
No, definitely in the top two.
“Come and get me, you bastard.” Hunter panted as claws scrambled over her, not digging in too deeply. At the moment, she was simply another impediment for them to avoid, not an enemy for them to destroy. As long as they were all in the same boat, she’d remain relatively safe from their gnashing jaws. “I know you want to.” At some point, the Orobus would have to approach. Predator to prey, he would come closer to claim what he wanted.
She’d be ready when the time came.
Covered in the demons, she gagged on the stench of rotting things, blood and gore, the sickly sweetness repelling. But covered in them, she was also hidden, and used the opportunity to worm her way to the edge of the shadow-net, work her arm through an opening. Ever so slowly, Hunter inched her way toward freedom. There was a certain sick fascination in scrambling over creatures bred to kill you, while they shielded your escape from the monster poised to destroy you. But paradoxes aside, the smallest sense of hope ignited when she dug her nails into stone and pulled herself free of the net of twisting, flailing bodies.
There would be a matter of seconds—optimistically, moments—before the Orobus realized she was free. Skirting the writhing creatures, she lunged toward Tyr. Momentum drove her straight into him, bowling them into a tight knot, and entangled, they tumbled toward the open dolmen and stopped just before the light-filled doorway. Hunter leaned him carefully against the back of the dolmen.
It’s just like you to think you have a chance. The creature’s deep voice echoed against the stone, amplified by the basin. When there is nowhere to go.
“You are a walking cliché,” Hunter muttered, tipping Tyr’s head up, worried. For a god, he was bleeding. A lot. Too much, she realized. “And you, Tyr… What’s happened to you?” A flicker of pain crossed his blood-slicked face, and he winced when she shifted him upward. “I need to look at your back.”
When she did, her heart almost stopped. “How did he do this to you?” She groaned, easing him back, brushing hair sticky with blood from his forehead. “And why aren’t you healing?”
“Can’t.” The word was soft and indistinct, but it paralyzed her.
“Yes, yes you can. You have to. Heal yourself. You’re a god. Do it. I need you, Tyr. I need you to get up and help me get you out of here.”
He cannot, girl. I’m draining away his power. Sucking it from him, like marrow from a bone. The creature’s taunting, sing-song words wound around the stones. As if the creature saw her disbelieving face, he laughed before adding, I speak the truth. You don’t believe me? Ask him yourself. If he can answer. He has a few moments left.
Hunter gripped the lapels of Tyr’s coat. “Tell me the bastard’s lying. Heal yourself, damn it, and help me out.” Tyr attempted a wan smile.
“Sorry to disappoint, but it’s the truth.” Tyr’s voice grew faint. “Don’t know how, but I think I’m dying.”
The Orobus expanded until his darkness swallowed up the world, the sky above, his words hanging on the air. Before he expires, I want you to know this. The space around Hunter vibrated with the thing’s vile satisfaction. The God of War is only be the first to fall. And I have you to thank for it.
Tyr was fading away right in front of her, blood pouring out of so many places, his face grayed away to white. As seconds stretched out impossibly to moments, Hunter searched for a way out. A loophole, an opening, a last chance. Anything to grasp at, to save them. And found nothing.
For just a second, she let herself experience it.
The frustration that she’d been beaten.
And then it passed, because she knew that another second would doom them both.
And so, with her arm across his throat, and her eyes locked on the Orobus, Hunter Wallace braced her feet on the ground and yanked Tyr backward through the spinning opening and into some other world.
12
Hunter expected something on the other side.
But not this.
She spun on her heel, instincts prickling. She’d dropped them into the middle of utter desolation. Unless the Orobus materialized out of thin air behind them, they were alone. Yet, she’d expected a doorway, a small dolmen on this side. Something to mark where they’d come through.
Nothing at all.
When Tyr moaned at her feet, she crouched down and lay a soothing hand on his shoulder.
Trouble was something she was used to. But this was madness.
As much as she hated to do it, she needed answers, so she gave Tyr a gentle shake. “Tyr, wake up. Can you please open your eyes for me?” When he only moaned, she shook him again, harder this time. When his eyes opened, they were foggy with pain. “Hey.” She tried to smile. “There you are. I need you, Tyr. I really need you.”
“Sure, babe.” He offered her a weak smile. “Whatcha need?” He struggled up onto one elbow, then collapsed, never taking his eyes off her. The smell of death hung on him, as panic began its spiraling climb within her. “Hunter?” His words were slurred. “You…okay?”
She realized her face was wet and scrubbed furiously at her cheeks. “Can you tell me where we are?” Seeing Tyr like this, broken and battered, made her feel…scared. And she hadn’t been scared in as long as she could remember.
“I’m not sure.” He pushed himself up, and the effort cost him. “If I didn’t know better…” The look he gave her was accusing. “What did you do, Hunter?”
“What I had to,” she said flatly. “I had to get us away from him, and I didn’t know what else to do, so I pulled us both through an open doorway. This is where we ended up.” She indicated their surroundings. “It’s just…I have no idea which world we’re on. And I have a bad feeling…”
“We’re on Svartlheim.” Tyr began shaking. “This is bad, Hunter.”
“I know. I know, Tyr,” she said, chewing her lip. “I didn’t have a choice. The Orobus had us trapped, he was draining your magic, and there wasn’t anywhere to go. Except through.” She glanced around. “At least we’re alone. So far.” Her gaze lifted, then settled on the horizon, where mountains rose from the edge of the flat plain. “Maybe if we can get to the mountains, maybe then…”
Tyr pushed up, then fell, his body crumbling as Hunter caught him by the arm, easing him back down. “You’re right, Hunter.” Tyr’s voice turned gentle, wheedling, “Promise me? Get to the mountains. Understand?” She nodded in agreement, her gaze swinging between the far-off mountains and the long, open plain stretching between them. “Okay, good.” Relief flooded his voice as he gazed up at her. A light, cold rain started to fall as he mumbled, his voice weak as he added, “Stick to the eastern face… Weather’s coming from the west. You’ve gotta stay dry.” Her heart stilled. “Stay alive longer that way. Nod if you understand.”
His expression was so tranquil. Determined, yet peaceful. A masterpiece of stubbornness, which had always been his main problem. “Are you even listening? You have to reach…mountains by nightfall. Don’t stop… Keep going…till you make it.”
As the implications of his command hit her, she realized the truth.
She loved him.
This was the moment she’d dreaded. The moment she’d lived for. The one she’d wanted for so long. The mighty god, completely at her mercy. And when Tyr moaned and slumped over, unconscious, she finally understood what connected them.
It wasn’t hate and revenge. It never had been.
It was something far more binding.
As th
e drizzle turned into a solid downpour, she grasped Tyr’s coat with both hands and pulled him across the rocky ground until she located a dry spot under a cantilevered, half-buried rock. Pushing him underneath it, she wrapped herself around him, set her back to the wind and rain, and prayed to whatever gods were listening to throw her a bone.
Tyr woke up, hurting like a bitch, but warmer than he’d been in a long, long time. Confused for a minute, he wondered why his face was smashed into a hard wall, and why it was so dark. The atmosphere felt heavy and stank of brimstone and something even more rotten. He tried to move. Gods, he hurt. In ways he hadn’t been aware it was possible to ache. The smell of blood was overwhelming, and his face felt stiff, his eyes practically glued shut. But to his back? Whatever that was felt warm, and soft and heavenly. Shifting, he pushed against the softness and froze when it started mumbling.
“Tyr, stop moving around.” That was Hunter’s voice. That meant Hunter’s body was pressed against his. All those aches and pains disappeared as every nerve ending woke up in a tingling firestorm. Where the hell was he? A jumble of fuzzy, disjointed images flashed through his mind as the acrid smell of brimstone fully penetrated his senses. As he shot up and his head made contact with the rock overhead, he cursed. “Fuck.”
“I told you to stop moving around.” There was an early morning huskiness to Hunter’s voice, a rough-around-the-edges growl that shivered straight through him. “You’ll open up the gashes on your back. They’ve just finally closed.”
Carefully he rolled over, lingering on her face for a moment before taking in the broken landscape that stretched out behind them. “How did I get up here?”
“I dragged you up here. Sorry.” She offered an apologetic smile. “I know it probably hurt, but it was raining, and…” She gave a little shrug. “This was better than nothing.” In slow motion, her hand reached out and pushed his hair over to the side, stroking the side of his face along the way. He closed his eyes. Her touch… After all these years, it felt like a benediction.
“How did we get here, Hunter?” Because there was no doubt about where they were. His last, clear memory, the one that was as sharp as glass, was standing in that street, watching her face tighten in horror. After that, things must have gone very, very badly. “Do you know where we are?”
“You said Svartlheim last night, but I was hoping that maybe…” Her eyes were apologetic. “I didn’t have a choice, Tyr.”
“I know, love.” What really surprised him was that the rock-strewn field around them wasn’t already swarming with Dark Elves and whatever else the Orobus had decided to breed on this godforsaken planet. Just because they were safe now, didn’t mean they’d be safe for long. They had to find high ground. “Can you make it to those mountains?”
Hunter nodded. “I could have made it last night. I’m not leaving you. We’re going together.”
When he set his jaw, she simply smiled and stroked his face again. “We go together. Or not at all.” She circled behind him and he felt gentle, capable hands running over his back. “This is good, you’re getting your strength back. You’ve healed up some, these may be closed enough for some light travel. And I have a bit of food.”
“Water?”
Her eyes slid away from his and over to her small black pack. She tugged it open and pulled out two flimsy plastic bottles.
“Not enough. A bottle and a half. But maybe if we ration it…” She sighed as she offered him one bottle and he took a tentative sip.
Tyr looked to the mountains again. He’d only been here once before, and even the Underworld hadn’t left him with such a bad taste in his mouth. “The water may be clean enough in the higher elevations for us to safely drink.” If they were lucky.
She screwed the cap on the bottle and shot him a carefree, easy smile. “Then we’d best get moving, right?”
Resistance had always been Hunter Wallace’s trademark, and as she shouldered the pack, Tyr pondered the difference. There was a kind of calm composure to her today, a lovely sort of peace that he’d never seen before. As if all the thorns had been plucked away. He wasn’t sure he was comfortable with the sudden change. “We should be able to make the foothills by dark. We’ll have better luck finding shelter there. Did you sleep at all last night?”
“I slept just fine, Tyr. Why do you ask?”
The bright, clear smile she threw him was also something he’d never seen before.
Not ever.
13
“It’s been two days.”
“Yeah, I can count, asshole. As well as you. What do you propose we do?” Mir drummed his fingers on the table, worry coursing an irrational, incessant beat through his chest as he watched Thor wear a groove into the floor. Reaching up a hand, Mir attempted to massage the anxiety away. No such luck.
“First Odin, now Tyr.”
“Odin’s on a bender. There’s a big difference.” Thor’s pacing stopped.
“Again, not a news flash. What do you propose we do about it?” Mir glowered darkly at the lot of them. Just like Odin or Tyr would have. If they’d actually been here. Fuckers.
“We could actually go look for them.” Fenrir stalked into the room. “You know, search and rescue shit? It has been two days.”
“Again, not a fucking news flash.”
“Look, we know he left and went looking for Hunter. Might have even found her, according to Balder. Then nada.”
Mir joined Thor in the pacing. Maybe movement would help. “You covered the entire area south of the highway all the way down to the basin quadrant?” He stopped. “You sure?”
Thor gave him a look that clearly said he was fucking sure. “Of course we did. Three times. No sign of either of them. I’m telling you, Mir, it’s like they vanished off the face of the Earth.”
Two days. And no sign of the Orobus, either. Nor Hel and her Grim. No attack, no invasion. But Mir knew the bastard was here somewhere. He had to be. And if Tyr was missing, that meant one of two things. He was either dead or taken prisoner. If he was a prisoner, he could be anywhere, but… “Fenrir, you’re going to have to do something for me.”
When Celine came in a few moments later, Fen gripped her arm, his face set in what could only be called rage. “She’s here, but she’s not going to...”
Celine laid a gentle hand on his arm before turning to Mir and the others. “Fen’s just worried, is all. And I want to help. What can I do, Mir?” At Fen’s low, rumbling growl, she shot her mate a stern look. “We do want to help, don’t we?”
Fen gave her a curt, reluctant snarl. She plunked her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. “Good. It’s settled. I’m helping, you’re not happy about it. I get it. Let’s move on.”
Mir debated, his gaze shifting from the anger contorting Fen’s face to the determination setting Celine’s. “Okay, here’s the thing. It’s like Tyr disappeared, and we can’t find any sign of him. So that either means—”
“He’s dead.” Celine’s eyes were depthless.
“Or he’s been taken,” Mir added, while Thor and Freyr settled back along the wall, well out of Fenrir’s path.
“All right, then.” Celine sat at the table while Fen filled in the entire space behind her. “What’s your plan? How do you want me to find him?”
“I need you to go into the Dreaming.” At Fen’s loud menacing growl, he held out both hands. “Only to see if Tyr’s there. We’ve got to confirm he’s still alive. If he is, then we’ll figure out how to locate him and bring him home.” Mir hoped like hell that was true, but he couldn’t help the drop in his voice as he added, “If he’s not, well, let’s just say we’ll need to change our focus.”
“I’ll find him, Mir.” She offered up a sad smile. “You do realize, he’ll be there whether he’s alive or dead. So I’ll find him no matter what.”
Mir pulled out the chair and sat next to her. “There’s something else. We haven’t seen Hunter since she left. Tyr went out looking for her and may have found her. There’s a chance�
�”
“They’re together?” Celine clapped her hands together in excitement. “That’s great, Mir. And actually, that’ll make this easier. Since we’ve connected before in the Dreaming,” she explained. “I know for sure I can locate Hunter, just let me try.”
Mir hoped so. “Celine, we don’t have a lot of time. The Orobus is here in the city.” The hammer was about to fall, he could just feel it. Gods, he wished Odin and Tyr were here. His team was being whittled away, one at a time, and their loss left him vulnerable, like the too-brittle point of a knife.
Sucking in a deep breath, Mir held Fen’s uncompromising stare before he uttered his next question. “I’ve gotta ask, Celine. Have you felt him? Is he close?” As the atmosphere of the room chilled down, Mir watched her eyes turn a guarded, flat gray.
Her distressed expression was a dead giveaway, but Mir gave her moment to answer. “I’ve felt…something. And I was almost sure it was him.”
Fen’s hands crept down over her shoulders, gripping tight.
“But yes, you’re probably right. It must be him, even though there’s no sign of him yet. Fen said the whole army was supposed to arrive yesterday.”
Fen’s grip on her shoulders loosened as he smoothed his hands down her arms.
“But I’ve got to be honest, Mir. There’s a problem with me helping you,” Celine whispered, her eyes going wide.
“I know. We have a shit ton of problems. What I have to find out is how close he is. Can you tell me that?” Mir leaned in and took her hand as Fen growled a low warning. “Can you feel him?”
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