The Last Valkyrie Series Complete Boxed Set

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The Last Valkyrie Series Complete Boxed Set Page 25

by Karina Espinosa


  George, the hellhound in the fridge, spun around. “Who are you?”

  “I’m not here to start any trouble, boys.” I raised my hands in the air.

  “The hell you aren’t,” the one by the door said as he reached for the kitchen knives. I slid out of his reach and grabbed one of my daggers. I went for George first because he seemed more dumbfounded than the other. He dropped the hummus and blocked each one of my hits. I felt the other hound come up behind me, so I ducked and let his punch hit George. Swerving behind George, I struck the dagger into his spine. He collapsed to the ground.

  The other looked at his friend and then me, stunned. He tried to run, but I caught him. The last thing I need was someone ringing the alarm bells. I jumped on his back and snapped his neck. Clean and easy.

  “All right, George, I need your help.” I went over to him and crouched down on the ground as he lay on his stomach. “How many hounds are protecting the armory?”

  “I-I-I—”

  “C’mon, Georgie. I hit your spine, not your vocal chords. Let’s make this easy.”

  He lifted his head and looked at me. “You’re the valkyrie, aren’t you?”

  I smirked. “Don’t tell me I’m famous.”

  “You won’t get the sword.” George trembled. “There are dozens of hellhounds guarding it. You won’t get past them.”

  Well, that definitely wasn’t the five hounds Verdandi had promised me.

  “Now, George, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. As for your kin, well …” I pulled the dagger from his spine and slit his throat.

  Now I only had to get rid of the bodies.

  Dozens.

  There were dozens of Hellhounds guarding the sword. If I thought I was going to have a hard time with five, there was no way I’d get through a hoard of them. This was a suicide mission, and I wondered if this was Verdandi’s plan all along.

  I grabbed my second dagger from my boot and made my way through the servants’ quarters and stopped midway down the winding stairs. The armory was just down the hall and past the ballroom, but I knew once I touched the last staircase, I’d be met with the first round of hellhounds. I could hear their murmurs down below.

  Instead of going through the hoard of hounds, my best bet was to jump into the fray and get a head start. If I jumped from the staircase, I would bypass at least six hounds and be closer to the armory. It was crazy, practically insane, but what’s life without a little insanity?

  With my daggers in both hands, I gave myself a jump start before I leapt over the railing, a good fifteen feet high, and landed on the back of one of the hellhounds. Instinctively, I sliced his neck and we both dropped. I took advantage of their momentary shock and stabbed the two hounds on either side of me in the heart and ran forward, making it only a few feet before I was met with another one. This time, he was ready, but so was I.

  I charged toward him, and just before I reached him, I slid right between his legs, aiming the knife between his thighs and sliding it upward. He released a deafening howl, alarming the whole castle. I couldn’t let it stop me; I had to keep going. I could feel them coming behind me and I still had a dozen ahead of me to get through.

  Before I took my next step, someone snatched my hair and flung me backward. Landing on my back, my vision wavered as my head slammed against the porcelain floor.

  One of the hounds picked me up and threw me at the wall as if I were nothing but a rag doll, and I bounced like a tennis ball. The only upside was they were throwing me closer to the armory. That was a plus.

  I crawled on the floor, trying to find my daggers I’d dropped in the midst of being tossed around, but someone kicked me in the stomach, rolling me across the floor. I groaned. I felt the ground and found one of my daggers, grabbed the hilt, and stabbed the first foot that came near me. Aiming for the hound’s ankles, I brought him down like a tree. It wasn’t enough. It was two on one, and I was still on the ground.

  I slashed at them, but I was firmly pinned. Another hound appeared, and I felt the pressure of another body on top of me. And it continued.

  They piled on in the narrow hallway until I was drowning in a mound of hellhounds, gasping for air as they suffocated me. They clawed and punched at me, but I couldn’t fight back. Hell, I could barely breathe.

  Reaching out, I tried to grab anything to help me out of my situation, but my vision faltered. The corners of my eyes were going black and my breathing became shallow as my body got heavy. My body jerked as it took its final breaths when I felt something on my back; the tight pull of my skin felt as if it were ripping. The two scars that ran from my shoulder blades down my back were tearing apart with new wings coming out in their wake.

  I muffled a scream. “No! No, no, no!” Decades ago, I’d ripped out my wings and never let them grow back. At least, not until now—not until my life depended on it.

  My wings burst out, and I screamed in pain as my bones broke and new bones came out of me. The force of the wings blew the hellhounds about ten feet away. I sucked in a hearty breath and stumbled back a little before finding my balance. It’d been a while, but they were just as I remembered—golden-brown.

  My wings were heavy, and I could barely breathe, but I couldn’t waste time. I soared up to the ceiling and flew over them, grabbing my fallen daggers, and shooting straight to the armory. I landed a little wobbly and retracted my wings before entering the armory. I groaned as they went back in and the pain was blinding. I didn’t want anyone else to see what had happened. I entered the armory and I wasn’t surprised by who was waiting for me inside. Fenrir.

  In a pair of well-pressed slacks and a white button-up shirt, he stood in the middle of the armory with his hands in his pockets. A hellhound held Verdandi in a corner, but it was just the four of us.

  I closed the metal doors behind me, shutting us in. I didn’t need more hounds joining the party.

  “The beautiful Raven,” Fen spoke, “covered in crimson. Why am I not surprised?” He grinned.

  “Flattery won’t get you out of this, Fen.” I tightened my hand on the handles of the daggers. “I came for what’s mine.”

  He lifted his shoulders and dropped them. “Here’s the thing, my sweet Raven, you’re not getting that sword. Why would you want it anyway? Odin would be back to tailing you, probably pinning more murders on you. Is that what you want? For the old man to make you miserable on Midgard? It’s not worth the hassle.”

  My nostrils flared. I hated him with every ounce of my being. “That sword answers to me and me alone. It won’t give you what you want, Fenrir. There’s a real threat coming to Midgard, and my sword is the only way I can protect the humans.”

  He stared at me for a moment before he burst out into laughter. “Are you serious, Raven? You want to protect the humans? After all they did to you? Bloody hell, if that isn’t the funniest shit I’ve heard all century.”

  I stepped forward. “This isn’t a joke, Fenrir!”

  He took a hand from his pocket and wiped away some of the blood on my cheek with the pad of his thumb. It was more of a smooth caress, and I hated how it made me feel—how he made me feel.

  “Enough of your distractions,” I gritted through my teeth as I swiped one of my daggers at his wrist. He winced and fell back clutching the open wound as blood spread over his white shirt.

  “It didn’t have to be this way, Raven,” he growled.

  I smirked. “Yeah, it did.”

  Fenrir shifted into half-wolf, half-man, his muzzle protruding and his canines jutting over his bottom lip. His claws extended, and he went for my face. I got nicked a couple of times but I was able to dodge most of the attempts. The problem was, with him as a beast, I was on the defense.

  “Now would be a good time to do something,” I called out to Verdandi, never taking my eyes off Fen. He was relentless, and I was starting to get tired.

  The armory doors began to rattle as his hounds tried to get in. As I turned to look at the doors, he grabbed me by my upper arms,
his claws digging into my skin, and slammed me on the ground. He climbed on top of me and growled, his canines snapping just inches away from my face.

  “You won’t hurt me, Fen.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” he grumbled, but I saw the truth in his dark eyes. He opened his mouth to bite me, but a puff of white powder came from behind me and coated his face. His eyes rolled behind his head as he collapsed on top of me. I looked up, and standing above me was Verdandi.

  “It’s about time,” I grunted as I pushed Fenrir’s body off of me and stood. “You had that with you this whole time and you’re just now using it?”

  “It was in my pocket. I couldn’t reach with the hound holding me.” She rolled her eyes and pointed at the sleeping hound in the corner.

  “Fine. Let’s look for the sword before the others come busting through that door.” I jabbed my thumb behind me.

  I hadn’t paid much attention when I first came in, but the walls were lined with everything from battle axes to swords to knives—every kind of steel one could think of. I couldn’t imagine Fen hiding a sword so special in a place like this. While the collection was impressive, it seemed so … ordinary.

  “Are you sure it’s here?” I rifled through the drawers. “This just seems so predictable.”

  “That’s exactly why it’s here, Hrefna.” She winked at me. “Trust me.”

  “You haven’t given me many reasons to trust you.”

  I went to the black chest in the center of the room. It was as tall as my mid-section and had a few drawers around it, but none were big enough to hold my sword. I grabbed the chrome handles and pulled, but the drawers wouldn’t budge. I tried the other one and nothing.

  “Verdandi, this is weird. Check this out.” I pointed to the chest. “It doesn’t open.”

  She tried the drawers on her side, but none of them opened either. What was the point? I crouched down and tried the last drawer on the bottom right. It finally opened but nothing was inside. I stood up.

  “Are you kidding me?!” I cracked my knuckles. “Only one opens and there’s nothing in it. This shit is a joke.” I kicked it shut, and something in the chest clicked.

  The top of the chest popped open and slid up, revealing a glass-encased sword. The Sword of Souls.

  7

  Making our way back to Midgard was a blur. All I could see and feel was the sword in my hands. Its intricate golden handle was decorated with the hands of the sword’s victims trying to escape, and it fed on blood. And right now, I was drenched in it—it was having a feast. The pull of its energy was intoxicating. I needed to get home and quickly sheath it before someone got hurt.

  “What happened?” Charlie jumped up from her couch as Verdandi and I walked into her apartment.

  Not acknowledging her, I went straight for my room and to my leather-bound trunk. My blood was the only way to open it, so I took out one of my daggers and pricked my finger. Once open, I found the sword’s sheath and put it away. I stashed the trunk back in the closet for safekeeping.

  “Now will you tell me what happened to you?” Charlie headed for the Clorox in the kitchen as I walked back into the living room. I was leaving bloody footprints on her pearly-white apartment.

  “There were way more hellhounds than we were informed.” I gave Verdandi a snide look. We had to fly out of the armory to portal out of the castle and back to Limbo.

  She shrugged. “You managed though. I see you even got your wings back.”

  “You got your wings?!” Charlie shrieked.

  I winced. I didn’t want the whole world to know. “Thanks, Verdandi, want to send out a tweet about them?”

  “A what?” She grimaced.

  “Never mind.” I rolled my eyes. “We need to figure out our next steps. Fen could be hot on our trail right about now and he knows where Charlie lives.”

  “We need a better hiding spot for the sword,” Verdandi said.

  I agreed with her, bitterly enough.

  “What about the cemetery?” Charlie suggested. “He doesn’t know about it.”

  “Smart thinking.” I tapped the side of my head. “We can bury it in a grave. Verdandi, do you think you can put a cloaking spell on it?”

  “Sure. I think Lana has the ingredients for it.”

  “If not, I’ll get whatever you need from the Underground,” I called out as I went to retrieve the trunk. She wasn’t going to be cloaking just the sword. I brought out the trunk and set it down. “Here you go.”

  “Uh … Raven?” Charlie scratched her head and scrunched her nose.

  “Can you take it out?” Verdandi asked as if I were slow.

  I shook my head. “No. The sword stays inside where it’s protected. You cloak the chest.”

  The Norn sighed. “Fine. Gods, why are you so complicated, child?”

  I grinned. This complication could save our asses.

  The next morning, I woke with so many aches and pains; I was really starting to feel my age. Or maybe all the ass kicking from the last few days was beginning to catch up to me. Either way, I needed some relief. I reached for my Pez Dispenser in my drawer and to my utter horror, there were actual Pez inside. I groaned as I fell back onto the bed. I was a millennia old and my joints were starting to creak. This definitely wasn’t normal.

  I hurried to get ready and made my way to the police station. Will had left a message with Charlie for me to meet him this morning. I tried to avoid the precinct as much as possible since everyone wasn’t my number-one fan. I might not be a murderer, but I would always be a suspect in many of the detectives’ eyes. That would never go away.

  “Well, if it isn’t Raven Romero. Oh, my bad, Consultant Raven Romero,” Detective Leroy Thompson called out from his desk as I passed him to get to Will. He was an older man with a potbelly and a receding hairline. He hated me more than anyone else at the department. According to him, I had a secret he wasn’t going to stop digging for until he figured it out. Annoying, but at least he was a good cop.

  “Morning, Thompson,” I muttered, sitting in the seat next to Will’s desk. I’d learned it was best if I didn’t engage.

  “Just ignore him,” Will whispered as he leaned forward. “Guess what I got,” he smirked.

  “Laid?” I asked. “I don’t know. What did you get?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I got the all clear by command to check out the compound. We can go whenever you’re ready.”

  “What the hell are we doing here then?” I stood back up, and Will quickly got his things.

  “Leaving so soon, Romero?” Thompson leaned back on his chair arrogantly.

  “Yeah,” I said, looking at him, “I can’t stand your ugly mug.” I walked past him with Will. Snickers echoed around the squad room, and Thompson tried shutting them up but failed miserably.

  Will drove out of Portland to the compound, and I told him what had happened in the Fae realm and where we planned to hide the sword on the way.

  “Are you okay?” He peered over at me cautiously.

  “Of course.” I chuckled. “Why wouldn’t I be?” My gaze went out the window.

  “Well, you and Fen have uh … history. I can’t imagine it was easy seeing him again.” He cleared his throat and adjusted the collar of his button-up.

  I gave him a sly look. “William, are you trying to girl talk?”

  “What?” His back straightened, his arms locking on the wheel. “No!” His face scrunched up in indignation.

  “I’m not judging, Will, I’m just saying, we’re totally having a chick moment,” I said, my eyes alight with mischief.

  “Why? Because I worried for your well-being? That’s just being a good friend.”

  I turned in my seat, my back against the car door, and faced Will. “But you didn’t have to bring up my relationship with him. That changes the course of the conversation.”

  “You women are ridiculous.” He sighed.

  I laughed. “I’m just messing with you, detective. Don’t get your undies in a
twist.”

  He looked away from the road and at me for a moment. “Wait a second. Were you deflecting because you didn’t want to talk about your feelings?” He squinted as if a lightbulb in his head had just turned on.

  “Really, Will?” I deadpanned. “Pay attention to the road.” I pointed to the windshield.

  He grinned. “You were in a friend-with-benefits-relationship with the guy. There’s no shame in that, Raven,” he added nonchalantly.

  “I’m not ashamed,” I quipped.

  “So he ended up being a traitor. Who knew?” Will shrugged.

  I should have known. That was the point.

  Will turned onto a road with a sign that read “Private Property,” but our warrant gave us permission to enter. The dirt road took us about a mile through the brush before we saw the compound. It was built like a dome with the first floor made of glass. The structure itself was about two, maybe three stories tops. There appeared to be nobody around when Will pulled up to the front. For a secret compound, it sure had shitty security. Or Ross was right and it was abandoned.

  “It doesn’t look like anyone’s here,” Will said as we got out of the car. “Let’s take a look around. We might find a clue as to where they went next.”

  Like the office space we’d visited last week, paper and debris littered the reception area and throughout the inside of the building.

  “We need to find a lab.” I rummaged around the front desk. “They were producing the vials here, which means there must be a lab.”

  “What does the lab have to do with Castellano?” Will asked.

  I paused my search and looked back at him. “Supernaturals are being held against their will. This is bigger than Castellano. If we find the drugs, we find him.”

  Will scratched at his beard. “Raven, I’m sympathetic to your people, I really am, but I can’t go searching for werewolves and fairies during work hours. I have to do my job, and my job is to find Castellano.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “My people? They’re practically the same thing, Will, don’t you see?”

 

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