by Angel Lawson
I nod, pretending to relate, but I can’t. My dreams with my lover are so intense. I can feel him. Not just on me or in me, but his muscles. His weight. Even his personality. He’s kind. Generous. Caring.
I drop my head back on the pillow. Like I need another man to contend with, even if he is a fantasy.
Elizabeth swings her legs over the side of her bed and stretches her arms toward the ceiling. “I know yesterday sucked. Want me to go to the kitchens and get some—”
A knock interrupts her.
I groan and pull my pillow over my head.
“I’ll get it.”
I hear her walk across the room and open the door. She doesn’t say much, just a quick, “Thank you,” and shuts the door. Her small weight presses down on my mattress when she sits down.
“It’s a message. For you.”
“Ugh. Read it for me. I just can’t.”
I’m still under the pillow but hear the crinkle of paper.
“I, uh, well, I can’t read it.”
I toss the pillow aside and sit up. Elizabeth hands me the note.
I pick it up and see that it’s blank. Or it looks blank. The ring on my finger warms and I hold up my hand, flexing my knuckles. A flicker of moment appears on the paper.
“What the—”
Elizabeth bends over and says. “Do that again. With your hand.”
I straighten then ball my fist, the ring hovering near the paper. Lettering ripples across the blank sheet.
Back hall. Green Banner.
“Looks like Victorine is either giving me the day off or sending me into some kind of trap.” I toss the paper on the bed and raise an eyebrow at my roommate. “Want to come?”
Elizabeth grins. “Definitely.”
The halls are fairly quiet. Most people are probably at breakfast hoping for another display of humiliation like the day before. Sucks to be them. I’ve got bigger, more mysterious plans than cleaning up garbage today.
“So you think this message is telling us to go into one of the off-shoot portals?” Elizabeth asks as we head down the long, dark hallway. The ring grows warmer with each step, a magical beacon that guides us. Damien knows his shit. That’s all.
“I’ve done it twice now.” Maybe four times, if I include the dreams with my winged lover. Which I’m not, because those were dreams.
We turn the corner and the pea green banner hangs over a blank spot of stone wall. There’s nothing on it other than a faint, faded embroidery. I stop in front of it, unsure what to do next.
“What next?” she asks, running her hands over the stone.
“I have no idea.”
I press my hand against the wall and the ring warms—no—heats. The stone glimmers and I glance at my friend. She noticed.
“Move your hands around. Maybe there’s a weak spot.”
We press and prod and pull. Nothing, except the metal of the ring is actually burning my skin.
“This has to be the right place.”
I lean my back against the stone and Elizabeth stands in front of me, frowning in thought. I close my eyes and think. Where are you? What do you want? Where am I supposed to go?
Four faces float in my mind.
Four bodies.
Four minds.
Four lovers.
The support behind me vanishes and my eyes pop open, meeting Elizabeth’s, whose jaw has dropped. I fall backwards, rushing down with speed.
I’m caught seconds before I hit the ground by warm, solid hands.
I tilt my head back and look into Agis’ face.
“Hey.”
“You found us.”
He jerks me upward, like a ragdoll, dropping me on my feet.
I get my first good look at the room. It’s a training room. Fully equipped with a fighting ring, weights racked, and weapons lining the walls.
Armin, Miya, and Rupert are all here, dressed in training clothes.
“What is this?” I ask, taking it all in.
Rupert steps forward. “I know we agreed to a truce—to keep the temple closed—but sitting back and doing nothing is making us all crazy. We were sent here with a mission. Sitting out isn’t an option.”
“I asked the gods for a safe place for training,” Miya says. “They’ve provided this space.”
“So what? The five—” I glace at Elizabeth. “Six of us will train against Victorine and her amassed army.”
Armin nods toward a door in the back. “We don’t have to do this alone, Hildi. And you don’t have to take the brunt of her punishments, either.”
A shift of movement catches my attention and figures walk through the door.
Luke. Darius. Students I recognize from down in the dungeons.
I snort. “The Nephilim, an ambiguous shifter, and a handful of losers. Seriously? That’s what you want to fight back with?”
“Everyone is here for a reason,” Agis says, “just like the Raven Guard. Just like us. They were chosen.”
I cross my arms and look at the God of Death. “You’re saying you believe in fate?”
His jaw clenches. “I’m saying I believe in our mission.”
The problem is that Agis and I are alike. We’re all alike. We met in the fighting rings. We’re warriors first. By birth. By nature. By choice.
Armin steps forward and touches my side. “We knew all along it would come down to working with others. This isn’t a passive game. You tried stepping back and holding to your convictions, but it’s time to get serious.”
I look over my shoulder at Elizabeth, who nods in encouragement. The Immortals, who stand unified. Luke, who gives me a small smile and a wink. Darius, who oozes confidence. And then the students that have fought and lost—they have a personal reason to fight with us.
I walk across the room, stopping in front of the wall of weapons. I reach up and grab a sword, the hilt heavy in my hand. I spin it in my hand and face the room.
“I came here for my friend. To protect her, her family, and their baby. I thought maybe I could buy them time with a truce, but I know that’s foolish. I’m not going to lie, those monsters protecting the temple? They scare me. Marshal betraying us? That rattles me. Victorine…” I shudder and then take a deep, solidifying breath, “she’s the fucking worst. If we do this, it has to be done right. We build an army. We train them. We lead them.”
I look at the Immortals, all having struggled or continuing to struggle since gaining their freedom.
“Can you do that?”
Armin holds out his fist, something I’ve seen them do before a fight. Miya, Rupert, and Agis do the same. I walk forward, swinging the sword in one hand and nod for Elizabeth to meet me. We both put in our fists as well. Darius, Luke, and the students follow.
“My father is going to lose his mind when he finds out I’m fighting for the Upperworld,” Luke mutters, his fist bumping mine.
“What about your mother?” I ask.
He frowns. “I’m not sure.”
“I am,” I tell him, looking into the eyes of my allies. “I think she’d be proud.”
20
Armin
“This is a good idea,” I say to Rupert as I swing a punch toward his face. We’re in a small sparring circle in the corner of the room. Grunts and the sounds of training come from various places in the room. Everyone needed a good sweat.
“Watching Victorine fuck with Hildi was my limit.”
We all have them, and Hildi has managed to break us all down. I shift my gaze to the woman across the room. She and Agis are in a heated match.
“When do you think he’ll hit his?” I ask, ducking quickly. I grin. He’d almost gotten me.
“Soon,” Rupert replies. “I’m shocked he hasn’t caved yet.”
He spins, kicking me in the back of the leg. He’s better with his feet than his hands. I lurch forward but hold my balance, coming for him with a slam of my fist to his chest. He grunts, the breath knocked out of him.
“Gods, Armin.” He coughs.
> “Sorry. You gave me the shot. But you’re right. I’m surprised, too.”
He frowns and rubs his chest. I roll my eyes. Rupert would rather strategize the fight than be in it. His eyes flick over to Agis and Hildi. “I am sensing something. I’m not sure if it’s my link with Hildi or just this place in general. There are some days she seems more settled. Like today. Her mood is steady—lifted, even. Her body at peace.” He looks at me. “She didn’t go to your rooms last night, did she?”
“No.”
He shrugs and tugs at the gloves on his hands. “Another go?”
I step into the circle, knees bent for balance. I lift my hands and beckon him forward.
He springs on me, faster and more agile than I expected, but it fits. The closer we are as a unit, the better we’ll fight, the faster this whole thing can end. If Rupert senses strength from Hildi, then he’ll increase his speed and strength. Same with the rest of us.
21
Hildi
Before we leave, Agis hands out small brass keys. To everyone but me.
“You have your ring,” he says, nodding to my finger where the purple stone glows. “For everyone else, it will give you access to the room. Don’t share them with anyone else. If you think you know someone worthy of being on our side, send them to me. I’ll vet them.”
“Why you?” I ask once the others have left. I’d gestured to the Immortals I needed a minute alone. “Why do you get to vet everyone?”
“Because I have an innate ability to assess if someone is telling the truth or not.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” He racks a hundred-pound weight like it’s a feather. His chest is round like a barrel and his arms are slick with sweat. “It’s how I ferreted out spies and traitors in my army, but it’s even more intensified since we arrived here.”
“Interesting. How does it work.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Usually it’s just intuition and some well-applied measures to get the truth.”
“You torture people.”
“Persuade.”
I roll my eyes. I can only imagine. “But here?”
“There’s like a halo effect. The colors don’t lie. Well, they reveal lies. If you ask the right questions.”
“What color is a lie?”
“Black.”
“What color is the truth?”
“White.”
Sounds easy enough.
“Can you see other things? Like other emotions or behaviors?”
He walks over to a few weights that didn’t get put up. “Maybe. I haven’t been looking.”
Agis bends and gives me an outstanding view of his backside. His butt is perfection; round and firm. The desire to cup them with my hands and feel them for myself is overwhelming.
He turns and catches me ogling him. He tilts his head. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m not looking at you like anything,” I say.
His eyes narrow and rake down my body. “You’re lying.”
Well this is awkward.
“And,” he adds, walking closer. “Your halo is a little bit pink.”
“Probably because I’m just hot and sweaty.”
“Maybe.” He tugs off his workout gloves and tosses them on the weight rack. “You going to tell me what you were looking at?”
I shrug, feeling stupid. “Your butt.”
His eyebrows furrow. “My what?”
“Your ass, dumbass. It’s hot. You’re hot.” There’s no use lying. “You’re cut from some gods-created marble and pumped with gods-infused steroids. It doesn’t mean I like you.”
He assesses me and a line forms between his eyes.
Must have passed his internal lie-detector that time.
“I know you think I’m some kind of swoony school-girl that’s convinced love will conquer evil. I’m not.” I frown. “Well, not exactly. Something crazy is going on in this place. Everything is exaggerated—even your ability to sense lies. Rupert’s psychic abilities. Armin’s telekinesis. I’m willing to give this a shot—forming an army, making allies, training. Why can’t you give my idea a shot?”
He studies me for a second, his marble-hard jaw tensing.
“I can’t because it’s bullshit, Hildi. Roland’s right. Any kind of intimate relationship is a distraction. If the other guys want to give it—you—a shot, I won’t stand in the way. But I can’t go there.”
“Why not?”
My question hangs in the air.
“Because I fucking said so.”
“Fine.” I say. “Whatever.”
The glint in his eyes tell me he knows for certain it’s not fine.
I throw my hands up and walk toward the door—the wall—whatever the hell it is that needs me to get away from him, because this time I’m not letting him walk out on me. I’m walking out on him.
I’m still fuming when a kid walks up to me and tentatively hands me a note.
I swear to Odin, I miss cell phones.
Report to kitchen
I groan and spin on my heel, heading down to the kitchen. Karlee, the Alante kitchen manager, stands at a long table arranging a tray of fruit, cheese, and meats.
“Go change,” she says, barely looking at me. “The uniform is behind the door.”
I walk over to the wall that holds the aprons and open the storage room door. A different kind of uniform hangs there. I pull it down and see that it’s a black vest and small black shorts.
“Uh, I’m supposed to wear this? Out there?”
“No.” Karlee frowns. “You’re delivering this snack upstairs. To the Headmaster.”
“The Headmaster?”
Fuck.
“Great, my humiliation continues,” I mutter, then wince. “I’m not saying your job is humiliating, he’s just doing this to humiliate me. I’m sorry.”
“We all have our roles in life, Valkyrie. Yours is not to serve the people in this Academy.”
I give her a tight smile. “It seems, right now, it is.”
I struggle into the shorts, they’re skintight and barely cover my ass. The top is no better, the button holes gaping at my chest and a large amount of cleavage is visible. Oh, and don’t forget the heels. Spiked and uncomfortable. At least I have a weapon if I need one.
“Anything specific I need to know?” I ask, tugging at my shorts.
She pushes the extravagant platter of food into my hands along with a bottle of wine.
“He likes his food in his chambers—the room behind his office.” She grabs a small metal container and tucks it in the small pocket of the vest. “Oh, and burn incense. He has some kind of thing about it.”
I head toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To take this?” I reply, confused.
Karlee shakes her head. “There’s a private staircase for the Headmaster’s quarters.”
She directs me to a small door in the back of the kitchen, past the ice box and main pantry. She opens the door for me. “Knock when you get to the top.”
I climb the narrow steps, my feet aching before I reach the second floor. The headmaster’s rooms are higher up, although not as high as Victorine’s creepy tower nest. I finally get there, thighs and calves wobbling from the shoes and number of stairs. I knock on the wooden door.
“Come in.”
I fumble with the doorknob, trying not to drop the food or wine. Knowing him, I’d have to lick it up or something equally disturbing. The door finally unlatches, swinging open, revealing an opulent bedroom. I fight a look of revulsion when I see Roland lying on the bed. He’s wearing a rich, red, velvet robe and cotton pants hanging low on his hips. He’s as handsome as the other Immortals, their bodies and faces as much weapons as their fists.
“Ah,” he says, eyes sweeping over me, “you brought my snack.”
“Where would you like me to put it.”
“On the edge of the bed would be perfect.”
I walk over, ignoring t
he pain in my feet, and bend over, placing the platter on the bed. His eyes flick between my face and my breasts, lingering a bit too long. I know his entire motive is to rattle me. It’s going to take more than a bit of ogling to knock me off my game.
I reach for the box of incense and pull out a small cone and a matchbook. I strike the match and light the tip. It sizzles and catches, giving off an instant, strong scent.
He plucks a grape off the plate and pops it in his mouth. I stand back, waiting for directions.
“When I agreed to come to the Academy, I didn’t anticipate it being like this.” He dabs his finger in a bit of creamy cheese and licks it off his pinky. “I thought all my brothers would cave quickly, not just Marshal. I figured they’d be tired of you by now and realize how absolutely unqualified you are to lead them.” He pauses to stuff another few pieces of food in his mouth, chewing slow and deliberately. “But you’d gotten to them. Used your body and influence to gain allegiance. I was pissed at first, and completely on board with Victorine’s punishments. I mean, you were openly defying, but the way you’ve handled it…that takes a certain level of determination I haven’t seen in many years.”
He looks at me like he’s expecting a reply. “Uh, thank you?”
“My brothers may be onto something.” He shifts his leg, giving me a view of his inner thigh. “Victorine has unilateral control, but I do carry some influence. Maybe there’s another way you can work off your punishment.”
He slowly picks up a strawberry and takes a bite.
Nope.
“That’s going to be a hard pass,” I say, controlling a shudder. “I’m fine with the consequences for my choices.”
He frowns, displeased at my rejection. “I hear what you’re saying; you’re strong. Prideful. As most of Odin’s warriors are. I mean, look at Thor? Biggest head I’ve ever encountered.”
I frown. He’d encountered Thor? In what realm?
“Victorine isn’t as patient as I am. She’s growing restless, Valkyrie. She wants the key.”
