THE TOWER
THE BANISHED GODS: BOOK SIX
L.A. MCGINNIS
Copyright L.A. McGinnis 2020
All rights reserved
Editor: Chris Hall: The Editing Hall
Cover Design: Brynna Curry
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or distributed in any printed or electronic form or by any means, without express permission from the author or publisher. Please do not participate or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
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PUBLISHER’S NOTE:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, including businesses, companies, events or locales is purely coincidental. This author acknowledges the trademarked status of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
ISBN-13: 978-1-970112-10-8
ISBN-13: 978-1-970112-11-5
Published in the United States of America
by Fools Journey Press, 2020
Please visit my website at www.lamcginnis.com
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Epilogue
THE WORLD
Acknowledgments
MORE BOOKS BY L.A. MCGINNIS
1
THE FAVORITE
The Tower, Balder observed, was a far cry from what it used to be. Once the stronghold of the Norse gods, it was now little more than cobbled-together sandstone, a patchwork of magical wards and duct tape fraying in the wind.
Ever since the dark god arrived on Earth and tore it apart, they’d done their best to contain him but—like Celine once said—sometimes, your best just isn’t good enough.
“It’ll get better. We’ll find his weakness and figure out a way to beat him.”
That’s what Sydney kept telling him, and he wanted to believe her. He’d like to buy into her never-ending optimism, but around them, the world was crumbling. Mortals were dying. Demons roamed the streets of Chicago. And they were powerless to stem the tide of evil.
Shifting slightly so he had full access to the cozy room, Balder counted heads, as had become his daily habit, to make sure no one disappeared overnight. Hunter and Tyr, Mir and Sydney, Loki and Morgane, Freyr and Lilly… They shared the space with the casual ease of family, and indeed, the small foil Christmas tree in the corner made a feeble attempt to add some holiday cheer. Vali caught his roaming gaze with a lifted eyebrow. With a half-nod, he indicated Fenrir and Celine seated at the end of the room, her stomach so round she could barely stand these days.
Yup, here they all were. A handful of gods and some mortal woman, one of whom was pregnant. Humanity’s last hope for survival, and a sad end indeed to what had once been the strongest pantheon in the Nine Realms.
“Not very encouraging, is it, for our last stand?” Thor’s soft observation made Balder close his eyes. He hadn’t heard the huge warrior’s approach, and Thor’s voice dropped as he leaned closer, scanning the room. “Did anyone find anything last night? I missed this morning’s report.”
“Nope, two months and still nothing. No sign of Ava. Not alive—or dead. I hate to say it, but I think it’s time we give up the search.” Unwillingly, Balder’s gaze drifted over to Morgane. Ava’s sister wouldn’t take the news well.
“There’d be some hint of her by now, don’t you think?”
Balder caught Thor’s unspoken question. A body. A corpse.
“We’ve searched this city, end to end,” Thor continued, his tone resigned, “and come up empty. My guess is, she went through the portal that night and never came back out.”
Thor was probably right. Two months ago, during their last face-off with the Dark God, Ava Burke decided to play hero. Diving through a portal into another realm, she’d done something they all should have done. She’d gone to Niflheim to save Odin. And no one had seen her since.
“We can’t continue to search, though,” Thor said, his gaze moving to Morgane. “Tyr’s got to call this off before one of us gets killed.”
“He won’t, and you know it.” No, Tyr would keep looking until they found a body. Problem was, they couldn’t get anywhere near the stone circle these days. Domenic’s men had the seat of the dark god’s power—the stone circle that contained the portals—too well protected these days. Plus, the bastard had an endless supply of bodies on his side. Enough power to rule the world, when all they had… Balder’s eyes scanned the small room.
Well, he was looking at it.
Chances were, even if they reached the portal, they couldn’t open it. “Ava’s either stuck in Niflheim, she’s dead or…” While Balder knew neither of them wanted to think it, it had to be said. He was silent for a moment longer. “Or she lost control of her powers.” There it was, the unspoken, horrible possibility that hung in the room over all their heads.
“A definite possibility,” Thor agreed. Ever since Ava returned from her stint in the Underworld, she’d been infected by an evil darkness, one that overtook her at times, one she couldn’t always control.
“If that shit did take her over, maybe it’s best she’s stuck in another realm. You’ve seen how powerful she is and unpredictable. If she came back through onto Earth and lost control…”
As Thor’s voice trailed off, Balder didn’t even want to entertain the possibility. They were already outmatched, cowering up here behind a barrier of weak magic. Barely able to hold out against the demon-human army that David Domenic—aka the Orobus—sent after them night after night.
Balder mused, “It is possible she found Odin. Lilly said that was Ava’s plan, to find Odin and bring him home. There’s a chance she could be doing just that and hasn’t made it here yet.”
Thor’s blue eyes narrowed. “You are kidding me, right? That girl’s been gone for two months. No sign of the portal opening, no activity down at the stone circle. If she’d actually found Odin, he’d have magicked them back here in a day, at most. Face it, Balder, she’s dead.”
Balder remained quiet. If t
here was one thing he’d learned over these thousands of years, it was that there was no use speculating when you didn’t have all the facts.
Shit, the ones they knew were bad enough.
The leather couch dipped as Vali sunk down next to him, studiously avoiding his gaze. “Is it true? We had another sighting of Domenic last night?”
“Saw him myself,” Balder confided. “Felt the essence of the creature oozing out of Domenic’s body and I guarantee you this—there’s nothing human left inside that fucker. Not that there was much to begin with, but still…” A shudder went through Balder. “David Domenic is the Orobus.”
Unbidden, Balder’s eyes drifted over to Lilly Domenic’s as she crouched down in front of Celine. Lilly was the newest addition to their ragtag group, and a welcome one, even if she did join under dubious circumstance. Con artist. Liar. Betrayer. And yet…
Balder watched Lilly’s face light up as she watched Celine and Fenrir. Her gentle smile as she observed the curve of Celine’s stomach. The protective way the girl behaved around the whole lot of them. No, he trusted her enough. But her brother—or the thing that used to be her brother—was now the single, most powerful entity in the world.
Connections.
So many connections. Too many connections between all of them. Blood bonds. Loki, Fenrir, and Hel. Ava and Morgane Burke. Hunter and Hel. Lilly and David Domenic.
Blood bonds—both mortal and immortal—weaving them all together, more neatly than the Fates ever could have.
It’s like the man said.
Blood is thicker than water.
Balder rubbed his forehead. These connections meant something, but he’d be damned if he could figure out what. He’d spent weeks trying to wrap his head around it with no luck. And there was no one to discuss his suspicions with. Because, it seemed, everyone but him was caught up in the gossamer threads of this web.
Everyone connected. With him on the outside looking in.
Which he didn’t mind so much, this being alone. What he didn’t like was the sense they were exactly where they were supposed to be.
As if the Orobus had moved them together, chess pieces on a board, just waiting to be captured.
2
THE APPRENTICE
Gabriella Mendoza plugged her nose.
At some point, she figured, she would have gotten used to the smell, but until then, she’d just have to suck it up. Putrefaction, mixed with a sulfuryl scent that reminded her of the mines in Chile, lay like a smothering blanket over the entire neighborhood.
She didn’t know where the sulphur smell came from.
She tried not to think about the source of the other.
Tonight, she’d try again to escape the city, but she didn’t hold out a lot of hope. It had been stupid to come in the first place, but she’d had to try. To see if her parents survived the initial invasion. They’d survived, but bad weather trapped the three of them here for months.
Well, bad weather and monsters.
From her hiding spot inside the burned-out car, she had a clear sightline to both ends of the block. Which was empty, for now. A week ago, she’d made it all the way to the West Chicago Avenue Bridge. Only to discover the steel structure blown all to hell. She’d barely made it back to her parents’ house alive. Now she was out of food. It had to be tonight, she decided, if she wanted to survive.
One block up, the fires were still burning, and the bodies, or what remained of them, still littered the street just past the overturned hulks of cars. Whatever this recent purge was, the monsters had stopped just before dawn. Just before reaching her home.
If she wasn’t gone by dusk, she might as well pick out a spot in the narrow backyard beside her mother and father. Snow-covered twin mounds of soil now, but the memories of their deaths were still raw. As her brain started to careen down that dark, miserable road, Gabriella pulled back. Tonight. She was getting out of this shithole, heading deep into the city, praying one of the main bridges was still intact so she could cross the river. Once she broke free of the suburbs, she’d walk until her feet bled.
Gabriella Mendoza was going to live.
As soon as the sun was high overhead, she hoisted her backpack over her shoulder and crept out of the car. Passing wrought-iron fences that once held manicured gardens and favorite flowers, the tall windows only held the pale faces of neighbors who would soon be dead. They watched her pass by with eyes both hopeful and hateful.
Pretending not to look, she headed south.
3
THE USURPER
David Domenic’s skin, still tanned and elegant, was stretched far too thinly over the entity once called the Orobus as he surveyed the stone circle, planted with explosives.
From a safe distance, of course.
At the drop of his hand, his second in command, Kemp, pressed the igniter and the entire area disappeared in a burst of dust and debris. The impact of the explosion hit him in the chest a moment later, driving him back a step. Cursing, he damned this mortal body and all its physical limitations. Rubbing his sternum, he forced breath into his lungs. He was still adjusting to this frail flesh. It demanded so many things.
Food. Sleep.
Frustrated, he wondered once again how humans ever got anything done, since they spent all their time nurturing these weak shells of theirs. Perhaps he’d made a mistake, taking Domenic’s body. Perhaps he should capture one of the gods and take theirs. Surely an immortal form would better suit his needs.
Speaking of which….
His gaze drifted over to Hel. The Queen of the Dead was holding up—or at least—was holding. Her nails might be broken, her hair was no longer the glossy, sleek fall of ebony it had been months ago, but there were some improvements.
“Come here, Helena.” He knew her true name, but he preferred the mortal name she’d given herself when she’d been posing as his lover. When she’d been manipulating him, of all people.
Immediately, she crossed to his side. Head bowed. Shoulders hunched in. Snowflakes sticking to her black hair. The Orobus, clothed as David Domenic, reveled in her brokenness.
Hel, it seemed, could dish it out. She could not, however, take it.
“Remember the day you thought you would rule over me?” He smiled, lips peeling back from his perfect, white teeth. “You thought you could control me, as you have every man before me.”
She stilled.
“Yes or no? Answer me, Helena.” His voice remained pleasant. It had taken him weeks to learn to use Domenic’s voice, to master the tonalities. A month to grasp the mannerisms that came along with the subtleties of human speech. But the practice had been worth it.
If she went any stiller, she would have disappeared. “Don’t lie to me, Helena, or I will know.”
“Ye…yes.”
“And now?”
“It was a mistake. I didn’t know how powerful you were. I will never be able to control you.”
His eyes sparkled as he trailed a finger up her arm, enjoying her shiver of fear. These human bodies might be good for something, after all. “That’s right, Helena. Don’t forget how much pain these bodies can endure before they break apart completely.”
She began weeping.
“Now, none of that. Go get cleaned up. I’ll have Kemp bring the car around for you. I want you ready for…later.”
A long, shuddering, sobbing moan broke from her lips.
“That’s right, Helena. The one who thought to use me is now the one so neatly used. Didn’t see that one coming, did you?” With a snap of his fingers, he had her led away. A toy, but one that must be kept alive. Alive because he needed her armies, her Grim, her Underworld, her endless supply of corpses and dead souls. All of them his, so long as she answered to him. And as long as he held her leash, she would.
Turning back to the stones—the reason he’d come to this godforsaken place—the Orobus blinked in disbelief. They were still there. Twenty pounds of C4 and those goddamned dolmens still stood tall. Untouched, from w
hat he could see. He motioned for a battalion of men to go and check them the fuck out. Watching them scramble through the rubble, he strode to the line of idling black SUVs, now coated with a thin, gritty layer of dust and snow.
And left.
Another way. He had to destroy that circle—it was a weak point. He’d tried magic, blood sacrifice, and today—brute force. With no results. His thoughts flickered to the past, and a faint smiled curved his lips.
Maybe, he thought, it was time for a different approach.
4
Too slow.
Gabriella worked her way to the end of another block. And still, she wasn’t nearly far enough. She was too slow. The infernal shadows of the buildings were already creeping over the streets when she crossed the Wabash Bridge. The corpses were slowing her down. The horrible bug-like monsters feasting on the bodies were forcing her to choose safer routes.
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