by S. T. Bende
“Actually, you just graduated.” Forse rested his head against the back of the couch. I wanted to reach up and touch his light brown waves so very much, but my intuition told me that would send him running faster than a frost giant fleeing Muspelheim.
“Details.” I waved my hand as I stood. “Come on. Let’s do this behind the cabin in case Captain Overprotective is using his super senses. It’ll be harder for him to see us from there.”
Forse pushed himself off the couch and walked to the weapon closet. Tyr had installed one in each of our residences, but since I came into Midgard unconscious, and harbored a general aversion to tools used to hurt living things, I hadn’t bothered checking out the contents of mine. I drew a calming breath as Forse came out carrying a dagger, a rapier, one of Brynn and Henrik’s implosion guns, and two sticks on a chain. Using weapons for self-defense is totally different than using them to attack. I will only use these tools to protect myself and my friends. I will not cause unnecessary harm.
I tried not to shiver as Forse shifted his cargo to one arm.
“Okay, little fighter. If I’ve only got two hours, I’m going to use every minute. One hour on weapons, one hour on creative combat.”
“Creative combat?” I asked.
“You don’t always have the luxury of having an actual weapon. Sometimes you need to improvise. Use what you can find wherever you are—sticks, boulders…if you’re lucky, in Svartalfheim you can find a hot lava rock. They’re the ones with a slightly purple-ish glow. They’ll singe the Hel out of any being they come into contact with. They can even cut through iron, so be careful with those.”
“Good to know,” I said with a smile.
Forse pointed to the hooks by the door. “Put on a jacket. The snow’s stopped, but it’s still cold outside.”
I shrugged my coat on. “Do you want me to hold those swords while you put on your coat?”
Forse gestured to his tight sweater. “I’m fine like this, takk.”
Gods, yes he is.
“Okay.” I feigned nonchalance.
Forse held out his hand. “Come on. We’ve got a lot to cover.”
“And then it’s couch time. Complete with more Cokes in a bottle.”
Forse raised an eyebrow. “Have I ever gone back on a deal?”
“Nope.” Thinking about a night curled up on the couch with my favorite god and my favorite beverage brought on a grin that made my cheeks tingle. I felt almost giddy as I placed my hand in Forse’s, and followed him outside. “Let’s do this.”
* * * *
“Elsa.” The low rumble of Forse’s voice pulled me out of my dream. It had been a really good one—Forse and I walked hand in hand in the forest behind my cabin, and as we passed a moss-covered redwood, he spun me behind the tree. He leaned against me, pressing his chest to mine, brought his lips to my neck and—
“Elsa,” Forse murmured again, pulling me fully into the present. Dang it. I dragged my eyelids open, only to realize my reality was so very much better than my dream.
Apparently we’d fallen asleep on the couch watching The Tempest. Our bodies were twined together in a way Forse would never allow if he were awake. He rested on his back, one hand behind his head and the other tucked securely around my waist. I nestled against him, my torso draped comfortably across his, and my cheek pressed against his heart. Its steady beat pounded in time with mine, confirming my long-held belief that we were really two souls destined to come together in a glorious—
“No, hjärtat.” Forse interrupted me again. “The broadsword is too heavy for you…use the rapier…” My mouth turned down at Forse’s mumbling. The poor god couldn’t dream about walking on the beach or skiing in the Alps like the rest of us; even in sleep he worried about me, recounting his instructions from last night’s lesson. Identify two plausible escape routes in any scenario. Assess an opponent’s weakness, then exploit it. Use the most lethal weapon at your disposal, or barring that, the first one you can reach. Strike to kill.
A chill ran through my torso. My healer’s instinct wouldn’t allow me to kill; the concept went against the very purpose of my gift. If we went to Svartalfheim today and I had to end someone’s life to save my own, would I be able to do it?
Dear Odin, please don’t let it come to that.
Forse stirred underneath me, bringing my attention back to the present. I rested my chin on his chest and ran the tips of my fingers along his collarbone as he woke. Long, dark lashes fluttered, revealing emerald-green eyes clouded with sleep. One corner of his lips pulled up in a lazy smile, and when he spoke, his voice sounded deep and gravelly. “Morning, hjärtat.”
Please let this happen again. Please, please dear Odin, don’t let this be a one-time deal.
“Morning,” I murmured. “Did you sleep well?”
“Better than I have in years.” Forse lifted his head. He took in the way my body was nestled against his, my arms folded over his chest. The arm he held around my lower back flexed, pressing me closer to his side. His eyes twinkled as he brought a hand to my cheek. “We fell asleep like this?”
“Kind of.” My neck grew hot.
“Mmm.” Forse tucked an errant strand behind my ear. My pulse skyrocketed as I leaned into the touch.
“Is that a good mmm or a bad mmm? You’re kind of hard to get a read on.”
Forse ran his thumb along my jaw and closed his eyes. “It’s just mmm.”
I had no idea what that meant, but the fact that he hadn’t leapt off the couch and run out of my cabin was definitely a good sign. Last night, I’d enjoyed the most peaceful sleep I’d had since Fenrir’s attack—no night sweats, no bad dreams, and not even the standard-issue ache from teeth-grinding. At the moment, I inhabited the Zen-like state I’d enjoyed before all Helheim broke loose for the Fredriksen family.
Forget meditation. The key to inner peace was a night in Forse’s arms.
“I can’t believe I forgot.” Forse shifted to reach into his jeans pocket, and his hips pressed against mine in a movement that sent my pulse to the stratosphere. Breathe, Elsa. Breathe. He shifted back, and I buried my disappointment. “I was going to give this to you last night, but you distracted me with your scary dagger skills.”
“Ha ha.” I propped myself so my forearms rested on Forse’s chest. There was no way I was moving any farther away from him than necessary.
Forse pulled his fist from his pocket and held it above my hands. “I got you this.”
“You got me a present?” My cheeks flushed. We exchanged gifts on Christmas and our birthdays, but that was it.
“It’s just something little. I saw it and I thought…well, it made me think of you.” He opened his fist and a necklace fell into my palm. It was exquisite, a pale-blue crystal with green swirls that appeared to glow from within, held by a delicate silver chain.
Time stood still as I held the stone between my fingers. “This is a larimar crystal. I’ve wanted one of these forever. Where did you find it?”
“I was walking by the jewelry store in Arcata, and I saw it in the window. Something about it made me think of you, and I knew I had to get it.” Forse brought his hand to my lower back and rubbed softly. I tried not to melt into the touch, but considering I was holding a stone that originated in mythological Atlantis, the purpose of which was to heal a wounded heart while guiding it to its soul mate, I was finding not melting inordinately difficult.
“This is…I can’t even…” I blinked up at Forse’s eyes, the exact same shade as the green in the crystal. I didn’t have to check a mirror to know that mine matched its silvery blue. “Thank you.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Forse said simply. Then he held out his hand. “May I?”
“Of course.” I dropped the crystal into his palm and tugged my hair to the side. He fastened the clasp behind my neck, and the larimar fell, resting calmly against the hollow of my neck. My entire body warmed as the crystal’s subtle vibration pulled on the energy of my heart, and Forse’s. He raised an
eyebrow at my knowing smile.
“Do I want to know?” he asked. “Or is the fact that I suddenly feel warm and fuzzy one of those mysterious High Healer things?”
“All you need to know is that I’m very happy you gave this to me. Takk.” I pushed myself up so I could kiss his cheek, pulling back before I could scare him off. But Forse still didn’t look afraid—either the larimar was having its desired effect, or we were finally making progress.
Either way, I was feeling pretty darned optimistic.
“Any time.” Force’s eyes turned a deeper green as an intensity consumed his gaze. It moved slowly from my face down my torso, then came to an abrupt stop at the pale pink mark on my forearm. His eyes narrowed as he ran a finger lightly over the wound. “You cut yourself pretty badly with that dagger last night. This one’s nearly healed over, but is anything else hurting?”
“My muscles are a little sore,” I admitted. “But I’m a lot more confident than I was yesterday. You gave me a solid foundation to fight the dark elves, or trolls, or mountain giants, or whatever questionably guided being we come across.”
“True, but remember, most fights are avoidable. And I don’t want you engaging unless it’s absolutely necessary. Self-defense is one thing, but the second you’re in a position to get yourself to safety—”
“I know,” I interrupted. “You want me to run away from conflict—not into it.”
“Exactly.”
I lay my cheek on Forse’s chest and let the rise and fall of his breathing ebb my anxiety. I could have stayed right there all day.
Unfortunately for me, Justice was swift this morning.
“Much as I hate to move, I’m sure Tyr’s ready to catch the Bifrost.” Forse gently lifted me off him, and guided me to my feet as he rose. I stared wistfully at the couch, committing the feel of our bodies nestled together to memory. The way things went with us, it could be months before Forse dropped his guard enough to let us get that close again. Why did boys have to make everything so complicated?
“You can take the first shower,” I offered. “I’ll whip up a batch of Henrik’s Swedish pancakes, and we can be at my brother’s within an hour.”
Forse bent to kiss the top of my head. “You sure you’re up to this?”
“I’m Asgard’s only Unifier,” I reminded him. “Nobody can do this for me. If I stay behind, it increases the likelihood one of you will get hurt. And I can’t let that happen.”
“If you feel like any of this is too much—”
I covered Forse’s lips with one finger. It took everything I had to ignore the electricity that sparked beneath my digit. “Get in the shower. I’ll try not to eat all the pancakes before you come out.”
Forse stared at me for a long moment. I let my hand fall as I pushed calm into the energy center trying to leap from my chest. When my heart rate was respectable, I sent a wave of peace at Forse. His fear dimmed considerably. I held his gaze as he came to a decision.
“You’re honestly okay with all of this,” he assessed.
“I have to get my feet wet sometime.” I shrugged. “It might as well be today.”
Forse nodded. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“I know you will. Now get in the shower, Justice.” I shoved him toward the bathroom. “I’ve got pancakes to cook.”
Without looking back, I moved cheerfully toward the kitchen and pulled out eggs, flour, sugar and milk, whipping the ingredients together. It wasn’t until I heard the sound of running water that I permitted myself one short burst of nerves. I braced my palms on the counter, and dropped my chin to my chest. Anxiety tore through me, spiking my heart rate and sending prickles of sweat along my brow.
What the Hel have I gotten myself into?
CHAPTER FOUR
“I DON’T CARE HOW immortal metabolisms work. I know you, Tyr Fredriksen, and you’re going to get hungry. Just take the sandwiches already!” Mia stood in the clearing in front of the Arcata cabin, one hand on her hip, the other staunchly yielding a brown paper bag. Her chin was raised in a characteristic display of stubbornness. If I wasn’t so in-tune to energy, I’d have believed she was annoyed. But behind Mia’s insistence was vulnerability. She worried for Tyr’s safety, and she was frustrated at her inability to fix things. Making food was her way of being a part of this mission.
“Thank you, Mia.” I gently removed the bag from her hands. “Your sandwiches are always the best. And you’re right, we’re going to be starving in a few hours, and Svartalfheim isn’t the most hospitable realm. These will come in handy.”
Mia’s shoulders relaxed. “If you want, I can go back and make a few extras. I only packed one batch of brownies, but I could whip up another in forty minutes.”
Tyr grabbed her arm as she backed toward the house, his black T-shirt pulling taut at the movement. “Prinsessa,” he rumbled. “We’ll be back before you know it. Have I ever lied to you?”
Mia stared up at him. “‘Mia, I’m an exchange student from Sweden, not an immortal war god with a whole heap of monsters trying to kill me.’ Sound familiar?”
“You’ll never let that go, will you?”
“Nope.”
Tyr used the pad of his thumb to free Mia’s bottom lip from between her teeth. “Listen, baby, when we get home, we’re going to be really hungry. I’ll bet your famous pot roast would make a lot of gods happy. What do you say?”
Mia’s eyes lit up. “I say get ready to be amazed. I’ve got a new marinade that’s going to knock your socks off.”
“That’s my girl.” Tyr wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her into him. She closed her eyes as he lifted her so her face was level with his, then gave her a kiss that left more than just the mortal blushing.
“Enough already,” Henrik groaned. “You’re showing the rest of us up.”
“Speak for yourself.” Brynn threw her arms around Henrik’s neck and planted an enthusiastic kiss square on his mouth. He groaned in approval, then dipped her low, resting one hand on the back of her black tank top, and wrapping the other around her blond waves.
I raised an eyebrow at Forse. “It looks like it’s just you and me.”
Forse didn’t crack a smile.
I sighed. Everything had been so easy back on the couch, but that might as well have been a century ago. Now, Forse’s shoulders were drawn against his black V-neck shirt, and his voice cracked with stress. “Let’s just get this job over with.”
My fingers grazed Forse’s thick biceps as I pushed confident energy at him. “We’ve got this.”
“Maybe.” Forse’s eyes narrowed. He was so not receptive to the optimism I sent his way. “This whole mission feels like a trap.”
I pushed out a more forceful wave of confidence. “If it is, we’ve got a strong team to thwart it.”
Forse’s brow didn’t smooth one bit, but he did give a slight nod. And when Tyr set Mia on her feet and grabbed the brown paper bag from my hands, Forse took my hand and pulled me after him.
“Henrik, enough already. You’ll see Brynn in a few hours; a day, tops,” Tyr barked.
Henrik reluctantly released our valkyrie, and Brynn skipped to Tyr’s side. “Miss you,” she said breathily.
“Take care, sötnos. Tell the dark elves we said hei.” Henrik grinned.
“Henrik, give us the breakdown on the tech you’re sending with us,” Tyr ordered.
“Brynn’s got the brighteners, the extractors, and Elsa’s emergency healing kit in her backpack,” Henrik responded.
“Oh, give me the healing kit. There’s one more thing I need to add.” I held out my hand and Henrik passed over the bag. While he and Forse spoke quietly about another piece of technology they were working on, I removed my new necklace. I couldn’t risk losing something so precious on the wild ride that was the Bifrost, but I couldn’t bear to leave it behind, either. With a breath, I held the larimar in my hand, infusing it with extra love and healing before placing the crystal in the emergency bag, where it
could energize the other stones. It might have been overkill, but we needed all the help we could get.
When I’d tucked the necklace into the healing kit, Henrik held out his hand and waggled his fingers. I handed over the backpack.
“Takk. So our newest piece of tech is something Forse and I have been developing off one of Mia’s sketches.” Henrik pulled a palm-sized tablet out of the bag, then handed it to Forse. “Keep this on you. It’s the modified locator.”
“Were you able to decrease the track time and up the search radius like we talked about?” Forse asked.
Henrik shook his head. “I’m sorry, kille. I gave it my best, but I haven’t been able to conform the älva dust to the specs we wanted. I’ve adjusted the device so it remains functional under twice the amount of dark magic it could handle before—so now it should be able to track subjects in even the blackest regions of Svartalfheim. But if the dark elves do the impossible and find a way to throw out Helheim-level dark energy, the locator’s not going to be able to trace the subject.”
“No trace at all?” Forse asked.
“No,” Henrik confirmed. “But honestly, that level of bad juju is rarely conjured outside of Hel’s inner sanctum. On their own, the dark elves can’t produce anywhere close to the amount of dark magic this baby can handle now. And I’ve altered it so it’s got a few-hour track time—it should take two to four hours, hopefully less, to locate a subject.”
“That’s longer than it took before.” Forse frowned.
Henrik shrugged. “Adjusting the älva dust had a price. We had to compromise speed for strength.”
The rumble in Forse’s throat let me know he was not happy.
“Mia and I will keep working on the blueprints from this end. In the meantime, everybody, take one of these.” Henrik pulled four thin plastic strips out of the backpack, each labeled with one of our names. Henrik removed the identification tags and handed them out. “They’re your new communication devices. Let’s give the human a hand for her innovative design.”
