“Who are you?” Hunter uncrossed her arms and widened her stance. Whatever this creature was, clothed in human flesh, she was certainly not human. Hunter had walked around like that herself for long enough to know.
“Oh, sorry. I’m Ava Burke, Morgane’s sister, I don’t believe we’ve been formally intro—”
Hunter’s hand went to her knife, found the holster empty. Damn it. “Not what I’m asking and you know it. What are you? You are one of us?”
“If by one of you, you mean one of the unfortunates who the big, bad God of Chaos put his dirty little fingers on and marked for his own personal use, then yes, in that sense, I am one of you.” Ava’s eyes swirled to black for an instant before cooling down to their dark blue. “But for this conversation, the one you and I are having here, all alone?” Ava stilled for an instant and considered Hunter carefully, as if weighing a million possible choices. “Sure, why not? Between you and me? Let’s try the truth, for a change.
“I’m unlike any creature you’ve ever come across, princess. Not even what was inside of you compares to what’s in me, and I’m quite familiar with the measure of power you controlled. And the cost. But enough about me. This war is just beginning. And we’ll lose without you on our side. Which means my goal is to keep you in play.”
Now Hunter was all ears as excitement wound its wicked, wicked way up through her. She felt like finally, for the first time since she’d watched her city burn, she was being allowed into the inner circle. Someone was about to give her a chance. “I’m listening, Ava.”
“You know I was in hell, right? For about two years, they tell me. It’s weird, there are things I remember. From before. Family stuff, good memories. The kind of warm and fuzzies you want to hold on to, always remember kind of stuff.”
Hunter nodded, encouraging Ave to continue. “But that’s the shit that doesn’t feel real. Those are the memories I have in my head that feel like a dream. Morgane tries to remind me sometimes, tells me stories about Mom and Dad, when we were little… But to me, that’s all they are. Stories.
“What does seem real? The screaming, oily, black place I was stuck in for fucking ever. The place that robbed me of every good memory I had, every ray of sunshine. Every single piece of goodness was sucked out of me down there. And you don’t even want to know what was left in its place.”
Oh, Hunter could see it with her own eyes. In the way the woman stood, with a far-off gaze that bore through walls and people and everything in between. She’d already tasted death, and it didn’t scare her one bit.
“I’ll never be the same. I’ll never be whole again. Not the way I was, anyway.” A slightly bitter smile twisted her lips. “But you know what? That’s okay. Because now I’m something better.
“Remember that, princess. Change is good. Embrace it. Fucking savor it. Because the ability to change will make you stronger.”
Turning her gaze out the window, Hunter considered Ava’s words. The world was different. Certainly this war had changed them all. Unfortunately, Hunter had just lost what made her special. In truth, she did feel…human these past few days. She hadn’t thought of it as a necessarily bad thing.
But now that she was normal…mortal, she wouldn’t be any help in the war to come.
Ava’s low warning brought her back to reality. “There’s a bigger game afoot, princess. Layers upon layers of scheming and betrayals, and like I said, you’re an important piece. If we mean to win.”
“How do you know any of this?”
Ava laughed, the sound lovely, and at the same time, terrifying. “Because of my time in the Underworld. Because of this darkness stuck inside of me. Because I listen and I learn and I keep my mouth shut. And I’m good at piecing things together.”
“All right, then. What kind of games?”
“The kind of games that require us to work together as a team. United, despite everything that’s happened and what will happen these next few months. And I’m talking about you, especially, princess. For all of us to survive, you’ll have to be fucking unbreakable.”
Hunter lowered herself onto the window seat across from Ava and met her eyes. “All right. That I can do.”
Ava snorted. “The Fates. Those fucking bitches saved you, sure, but like everything they do, it comes at a cost. Their cost.” She shook her head. “Although I cannot believe you’re the one who came up with such a boneheaded idea in the first place. But fear not, I’m going to help you out. My time in the Underworld taught me a few things.”
Hunter’s heart raced. “Like how to keep Tyr from fulfilling his promise?”
“Like that, yes. But more importantly, like how to actually win this war.”
“But the Orobus…”
“There’s a difference between defeating and stopping, between killing and controlling. And that difference means the line between life and death. For you, at least. For now, the monster is contained. The trick will be trapping him permanently.”
Hunter considered it. Ava’s reasoning was solid. “So you’re thinking if we only contain the creature, the goddesses will spare Tyr from having to kill me. What makes you think the Fates will abide by a technicality?” A wave of futility hit Hunter as she settled herself against the window frame, staring at Ava. There was no way it could be this simple.
“The Fates are bound by the language of the agreement. Rules of magic and all that. Besides, there’s the chance they’re playing another game, entirely. Just ask Hel, that bitch could out-maneuver anyone alive. Just ask Odin.” Ava’s gaze narrowed as she looked over to Hunter. For a second, she paused, as if she was about to say one thing, before finally muttering, “She’s an interesting woman, the Goddess of the Dead. You’d do well to study her tactics.”
If Ava was looking at Hel as some kind of role model, Hunter had serious questions about the woman’s mental health stability. “What do you know, Ava?”
“I might have heard something. When I was down below,” Ava hedged.
Hunter rubbed her eyes. The room seemed to be dimming down. “Well spit it out. Syd has no idea how long her patch job on the dolmens will last, and once he opens those doors up, this city will be swamped with Dark Elves and Grim. And I’m not going to be a whole lot of help, being I’m now mortal,” Hunter pointed out as the woman’s face tightened.
Blue eyes flashing, Ava leaned in, “Don’t undersell yourself, princess. We need stronger allies, and even a bit of divine intervention might help. And everyone has a weak spot. Everyone. The trick is, learning how to exploit it. But before I tell you any more, we need to have a little chat with a friend of mine.” Hunter watched the light fade from Ava’s face. “Well, friend is probably too strong a statement, but you’d better hear what he has to say.”
Ava reached over and squeezed Hunter’s hand.
“Remember when I said I’ve been waiting to talk to you? Well, so has someone else. There’s something you have to know, before we go any further. He’s the only other person who knows the truth, and after this little discussion, princess, you might find out how far you can bend before you break.”
38
For weeks now, she’d known exactly where he was.
And not just physically, although the old, walnut library on the second floor of the Tower did have a certain turn-of-the-century quaintness she certainly appreciated. No, Ava knew exactly where Odin was in his head.
He was blind, according to the rumors.
Thus, frustrated and feeling vulnerable, according to psychology 101 and Freud. Which meant wallowing in self-pity, keeping to himself, and pouring copious amounts of alcohol down his throat made perfect sense. Except, of course, it didn’t.
“Why are we here again?” Hunter whispered in her ear, the narrow corridor swimming in dust and cobwebs. “Please tell me the magical solution to all of our problems is behind that door.”
“It is,” Ava murmured absently, her thoughts focused on the god who actually was behind the door. “If he’s sober enough, and we can
get him to cooperate, this might actually work out. And if this goes smoothly, then maybe...” Her words trailed off as a dull, heavy thud echoed through the oak door. “Goddamn it.”
Hand on the knob, Ava pushed in, Hunter right on her heels, and stepped into a scene fresh out of a frat house post-keg Sunday morning. Odin was sprawled out over a dilapidated leather couch, naked to the waist, long, white hair tangled and matted, his eyes unfocused. Empty bottles spun across the room, kicked out of the way by Ava as she strode across the room and got right in his face.
“Damn it,” she muttered. “I do not have time for your bullshit right now. You know why I’ve come, I know you’ve already seen this.” She snatched the bottle out of Odin’s hand, sloshing liquor all over both of them. “You do not have the luxury of wallowing in self-pity. We have real problems, and…”
A sloppy smile curved Odin’s handsome mouth. “How’s the view from that ivory tower of yours, Ava? Bet it’s pretty nice…when you’re sitting up there all alone.” It was a miracle he managed to lean forward, without face-planting at her feet. “Lotta nerve you got…coming down here to lecture me… When all you’ve done is hide your head in the sand for months.” Satisfied, he flopped backward as the sofa creaked beneath his weight, a shimmer of frosty magic coating everything in the room.
“...sides, what’s it matter? While world’s gonna be toast in no time.” Odin’s normally crystal-clear eyes were glassy. “Orob…buss…Orrrr…Orbuss’s gonna open up aaall the doors, empty out his little realms of doom, and flood ours with his Frankenstein monsters. Not a lot we can do about it.” The once-king snatched the bottle back from Ava and took a loud, noisy swallow. “So yeah, no hope there. We’re aaaaall doomed, ’cluding you and me.”
Ava felt Odin’s magic lift her hair, send rivulets of electricity down the back of her neck as she stared down at him. Still impossibly handsome, still impossibly arrogant. Still impossible.
“This won’t work. He’s too wasted. I thought maybe...” Her voice trailed off. She’d hoped for his help, hoped he’d be able to make Hunter understand… But now, revealing the truth would have to be done some other way. In this state, Odin was, quite possibly, dangerous. “Come on Hunter, let’s not waste any more time here.”
“Hunter Wallace?” Odin’s voice took on a hint of interest. “The one and only Scottish princess?”
‘You’re too drunk.” Ava warned him, already halfway to the door. “I thought you could give us answers, but we’ll find them somewhere else. Wallow in your expensive liquor, you idiot.”
“Still have a death sentence hanging over your head, woman.”
“And, yeah, we’re out of here,” Ava said quickly, pushing Hunter toward the door. “He’s too far gone and definitely too unpredictable. No telling what he’ll say in this state.” Her gaze lingered on him a moment longer than necessary, taking in his disheveled appearance. “Or do.”
Even now, his magic suffused the entire room, its terrible strength tugging at her, ice cold and virulent. He followed them out with his silver, baleful gaze, before his words lured them back.
“I showed Tyr the doorway to Asgard, myself. Showed him how to return. So he could talk to the Fates, you see,” Odin explained, his tone even. “Knew he’d need to go back one day. To save you.” He tried pointing, but his hand flopped like a dead fish. “’Cause, you know, I could see the future. Once.”
This time, when Ava tugged on Hunter’s arm, the woman didn’t budge an inch. “Tyr made a deal with the Fates to spare me?”
“Not ‘zactly. Tyr blackmailed the Fates into saving you. Rather clever, even for him. They had no choice, not with the threats he made. But in the end, they turned the tables on him. In the end, I suppose, they won. Unless of course, you fail and the Orobus wins, in which case Tyr won’t have to kill you at all.” Odin scrunched his brow, as if re-evaluating his logic.
“Even if it’s true,” Hunter said, shaking her head, “you’re not giving us anything new to defeat the Orobus. We should talk to Sydney or Mir. My guess is they’ll know something new by now.”
“Right,” Ava said, once again steering her toward the door. “Great idea. We explore other options.” Even now the icy bite of Odin’s magic was freezing her nose; each word came out in puffs of white breath.
“Not so fast,” Odin said from behind them. “You and I aren’t finished.”
“You and I are totally finished.” Ava’s voice became cuttingly sharp. “Have been since the day we met, which, as you remember…”
“I’m not talking to you, Ava.” All of a sudden, Odin’s bleary eyes looked uncomfortably aware. “Although the two of us are far from done.” Shakily, he stood, one hand still wrapped around the neck of the bottle, the other one pointing directly at Hunter. “You, on the other hand, you chose an interesting sanctuary by coming here. Why not head north with the rest of your New York team?
“You could have gone anywhere on earth, Hunter. What made you choose the Tower?”
That’s when Ava knew this was a mistake. Because of how still Hunter went. And the small, almost unnoticeable smile curving the corners of Odin’s mouth.
His mind was a pleasant jumble. Or had been, before Ava barged in here with the exotic stranger on her heels. Now memories were rising to the surface. Things he did not want to remember.
Things he’d been drinking hard to forget.
They’d left him alone for days now, even Balder having given up and abandoning him to his steadfast, endless drunkenness. And he was almost there. Oblivion beckoned from the bottom of just one more bottle. Another long swallow burned its way down to his stomach as he considered the two women before him.
Ava, the dark-haired beauty, so twisted up into his feelings that every one of his fantasies was filled with her. Except she’d rather gnaw her arm off than be in a room with him.
And Hunter Fucking Wallace.
The fact Hunter was in Chicago meant time was almost gone.
He managed to keep his gaze firmly on Hunter, instead of allowing it to drift over to Ava, where it wanted to be. Another swig burned through him before he remembered he should be speaking. “North would have been the logical choice. Regroup. Mount a counter offensive. Hit their forward flank, especially when it was weak. But you chose to come here. And seek out Tyr. Why?”
Damn, that sounded almost logical.
Maybe the alcohol wasn’t working nearly as well as he’d thought.
“Because most of my team was dead, that’s why. Which you’d know if you weren’t hammered. The ones who survived were injured, barely able to care for the ones who made it through the attack. Our objective was to get them out alive. And for your information, I did cover their flank. Long enough for them to get across the river.”
He swore she muttered asshole beneath her breath, but he couldn’t be sure.
“You’re right Ava, let’s get out of here. This is a colossal waste of time.”
For someone who was used to the entire universe falling to their knees before him, Odin wasn’t entirely sure how to handle Hunter blowing him off. Especially as Ava turned away as well, without so much as a pithy parting shot.
“Ever wonder why the Orobus and Hel were hot on your tail while you hauled ass across the Midwest?” He met those stormy golden eyes with a grin. “Because I know.” Taking another long, deliberate swig, he didn’t miss the way Ava’s mouth tightened in anger as he sent a faint caress of his magic over to her. Sure, he was drawing this out, but shit, he was bored and frustrated and more than a little pissed off at the way Ava was behaving.
Like she didn’t even give two shits.
“Somewhat disturbing, isn’t it, when a primordial entity takes a special interest in you? Even more disturbing is when you don’t know why.” Despite himself, the grin widened. He wasn’t sure where this reckless, pernicious attitude was coming from, but he was damned if he could control it. The whiskey might have had something to do with it, though.
“I already know why, and
the matter has been settled. Which you’d also know if you weren’t drunk all the time,” Hunter snapped, hands on her hips. “I’m in no mood to play games with you. Especially not right now.”
“Odin…” Ava warned him, her angry, husky voice more of a turn on than it should have been, especially with the way darkness was beginning to leach from her eyes. “Not like this. Please.”
“Of course, it might not have been him following your scent, at all.”
“It could have been someone else entirely.”
Ava had gone quiet, the pleading in her eyes only driving him to add, “It might be you don’t know who you really are.” Ava’s hand lay loosely on Hunter’s arm, tendrils of smoke and shadow practically enveloping the both of them.
“Damn it, Odin.”
“Ever take a good, hard look in a mirror, Hunter? From what I understand, your father was nearly as blonde as I am. Ever wonder where you get those high cheekbones, that long, black hair? Those exotic, otherworldly features?” Odin despised the way his voice turned low, the way it hummed with glee. The way Ava’s face paled, while Hunter’s sharpened, the way the air in the room thrummed with malice.
Hated it. And was completely incapable of stopping himself.
“One would think, after all this time, you’d have figured out who you were, girl.”
Please. Ava silently pleaded.
Now, Hunter’s voice shook. “I don’t understand. What’s he talking about?”
Odin took a swig. He’d glimpsed this exact moment, so many times before. And never, in any of his many visions, had Ava been here with him. He hated that she was. He hated she saw him like this, weak and powerless and cowardly. And for a second, an apology hung on the end of his tongue.
But when her eyes, her beautiful dreamy eyes met his, and in them he found nothing but contempt and hatred, he ended up spitting out, “I don’t think Ava wants you to know the truth, Hunter.”
Death's Daughter Page 20
