Cry Werewolf (Godhunter Book 20)

by Amy Sumida

  Turned out, I didn't have to.

  I saw Sutr's sword swinging towards Balder's neck, and knew it would strike true. Everything slowed, or maybe I was flying super fast, I'm not sure. But as soon as I registered the fact that Balder was about to die (again), I dove down, and swept up Odin and Azrael, taking them both across the battlefield as Re and Trevor gaped up at us. Kirill might have been gawking too, it's hard to tell when he's in lion form. Behind me, I heard Balder's death cry, and I knew I'd done the right thing. A father shouldn't have to see his son die. Especially not twice.

  I landed, shielding Odin's view with my wings, blocking him and Azrael completely. Odin dropped to his knees and sobbed. I wanted to change back to human and hold him, but I needed to guard him in this vulnerable moment. That was more important than comforting my husband. Besides, Azrael was doing that for me again, while Kirill, Trevor, and Re ran up to lend their support. That's what family is for.

  I looked over my shoulder, and saw Sutr lift his flaming sword triumphantly. He gave me a nod, letting me know the deed was done. I nodded back crisply. We both knew it had been necessary, but I still mourned for Odin. If one of my sons went bad and tried to kill me, I don't think I could have killed him either. Nor allowed another to do so. And I knew I would still mourn him. I looked down at Odin, just a brief glimpse, but the distraction was enough. I heard Arach roar as a pain burned my side.

  I drew back from my husbands, and turned just in time to see Arach roasting Freyr alive. I mean really? That slimy bastard had tried to stab me in the back? A dragon? While my mate flew overhead? What an imbecile. His screams were kind of satisfying though.

  “Stop!” a man shouted, and ran towards us.

  Arach paused in his roasting to consider the newcomer. It was the god who'd been standing beside Freya earlier, in Fenrir's hall. In fact, Freya was running up with him, screaming her own protests about Freyr being her brother, so on and so forth. I was giving her a dragon grimace when they came to a stop in front of us. Freyr was on the ground whimpering, but still cognizant. I had to hand it to him, that was pretty hard core. The guy could take a licking, or a burning, and keep on ticking.

  “Please, don't kill my son,” the man with Freya said.

  Oh hell, not another one.

  “Njord?” Odin came out from behind me.

  “I saw what happened with Balder, Odin,” Njord shook his head. “Don't make me go through that. Help me. Intervene. This is your wife, is it not? And this dragon here is her...”

  “My husband,” I growled. “They're both my husbands.”

  “You realize that Freyr started all of this? We are here because of him,” Odin waved back at the raging battle. God wars could go on for days, what with the magic blasting and blocking, and the fallen gods healing themselves to get back up. “And then he dares to attack my wife? From behind? Like a coward?!”

  “You think my son began Ragnarok?” Njord scoffed. “How?”

  “I tricked a rooster,” Freyr chuckled.

  We all stopped and stared at him.

  “What was that, Son?” Njord rushed over to Freyr.

  “I tricked a rooster!” Freyr shouted, and then started to laugh hysterically. His skin was blackened and cracked, oozing blood and other fluids. His hair was gone, his features unrecognizable. Except for his eyes, which stared out of the ruin of his face with victorious glee.

  So I was wrong. Freyr wasn't an imbecile, he was a lunatic.

  “Fjalar,” Odin sighed. “Freyr somehow tricked Fjalar into crowing. Then the others followed, like dogs howling in the night. Heimdall heard their crows and blew his horn, bringing the dead back to life. After that, Ragnorak would be impossible to stop. That was devious, Freyr.”

  “Brilliant you mean,” Freyr wheezed. “It was brilliant,” he tried to get to his feet as his father gaped at him.

  “Oh, Freyr,” Freya shook her head. “Why?”

  “Because she took what was mine!” Freyr screeched, bits of flesh and spittle flying from him as he pointed at me. “It is my kingdom! Mine, you horrid little b-”

  A massive dragon foot squashed Freyr's head and most of his body. We all gaped as Arach lifted his foot, shaking off the gory remains. Freya screamed. Njord fell to his knees, then covered his face to weep. I looked over to Arach with wide eyes.

  “Huzzah!” Re declared behind me. “Well done, Dragon!” Then he paused to take in all the disapproving faces. “What?”

  “Yes... what?” Arach huffed, mimicking Re. “Freyr was the instigator of a battle which may destroy your massive territory. He just confessed. And he was about to call my wife something unacceptable. I did him a favor by killing him quickly. If Freyr had said that word, I would have been compelled to kill him much slower.”

  “I'm sorry, Njord,” Odin said hollowly. “Believe me, I understand your grief.”

  Suddenly, I was very tired. I looked out across the raging war, losing focus for a second. I swore I saw a giant snake rising from the ocean, but that must have been my mind playing tricks on me. Then screaming and shouting filled the air. The battle ground to a halt. Well damn, it was a giant snake, and the thing undulated up over the battlefield as if it had been charmed out of an enormous basket.

  “Jormungandr,” Thor growled.

  I glanced over to Thor in shock. I hadn't even realized he was there. He must have come up during the Freyr thing, as had Vidar and Vali, who were currently standing supportively beside their father.

  “That snake has a name?” I asked.

  “That snake is my son!” Loki said proudly as he padded over with his other son, Fenrir.

  “Seriously?” I looked from Loki to the hovering reptilian head. It undulated back and forth, a little hypnotizing actually. It was making me sleepy. “Color me impressed.”

  “Thank you,” Loki nodded his massive wolf head.

  “Fools!” Jormungandr hissed. “Fools, all of you! Weaklings! Why have you woke me? To fight for the whim of humans? Buffoons! We are gods! They give us offerings because we are worthy of their worship. But we do not have to be constrained by it. Do you truly believe Fenrir will swallow the Sun? Ha!” Huge water droplets fell from the snake's head as he laughed bitterly. “So why do you fight? You're puerile! Imbeciles! Battle the impulse instead of each other. Have some strength of will for fuck's sake! You brainless barbarians! Pansy-assed puppies following humans around for scraps!” Jormungandr hissed again as he began to sink back into the water. “And I swear by the World Tree that if you awaken me again for such nonsense, I will kill you all myself!”

  With that, the sharp-tongued snake disappeared beneath the waves.

  “Huh,” I shook my head. I was feeling strange, and I was beginning to think it had nothing to do with the snake's charm. “Well that told us.”

  Except it didn't.

  The Viking gods started fighting once more, as if a gargantuan reptile hadn't just hung over their heads and called them a bunch of pussies. Or was it puppies? My head was getting fuzzy, and I found myself trying desperately to focus. I just wanted this to all be over. I wanted my friends and family safe, and for Ragnorak to be resolved, not just finished, but over for all time. Never again rearing its ugly head. Someone needed to stop this insanity.

  Then someone did.

  Light flared around me and I winced, squinting my eyes against the glare. Then I realized that the light was emanating from me, my chest. It blurred the world around me into an ethereal, snowy haze. Everything looked better in that mist, softer and surreal. I took a deep, calming breath, as I sank into the warmth of the light. The light loved me. It was a safe place for me. Its wants were my wants. The sounds of battle faded, and peace consumed me. I could feel magic streaming out of me, but it didn't stem from me. Instead of being drained by it, I felt comforted. Everything would be alright.

  Then I fell. The light left me, winked out as suddenly as it had come, and I found myself standing on the ground. I was shivering, somehow shifted back into my human shape. T
he feeling of peace subsided, replaced by dread and deep, aching pain. I stumbled forward, and then there were hands everywhere. Voices everywhere.

  “Vervain!”

  “Minn Elska!”

  “A Thaisce,” the last one roared above me.

  I was growing cold, which is weird for me. I frowned and touched my naked side, where I could feel a vicious sting. My hand came away bloody. Right, Freyr had cut me. But I had both god and faerie healing abilities, it shouldn't be an issue. Unless...

  “Lesya,” I whispered as I fell into unconsciousness.

  Chapter Forty

  My vision faded in and out. There was a lot of shouting and strident noises every time I came to. And a lot of pain. Vicious pain. My stomach cramped as searing agony flashed over me. But all I could think was, Lesya. My daughter was dying. She was dying because I'd been foolish enough to take her into battle, just as I'd done with her brothers. Why do I never learn? Why do I think I'm indestructible? And why was I making my children pay the price for my stupidity?

  If I lost Lesya, I would never recover. I could never forgive myself.

  “My fault,” I whispered, and a hand went to my forehead, pushing back my hair soothingly.

  “No, Vervain, it's not your fault,” Kirill's voice invaded my pain.

  “Lesya,” I moaned and passed out.

  When I opened my eyes again, I was in a strange room. Sage green walls were hung with priceless pieces of art. Potted plants in the corners. Elegant modern furniture, all polished wood and leather. I lay beneath crisp, white sheets, my head pillowed and lifted slightly. I didn't sleep like this, especially not on my back, and the bed was so small. Was it a twin mattress?

  “Minn Elska?” Trevor had been slumped in a chair across from me. He jumped up and came to my bedside.

  My other men were there too, even Arach. What was Arach doing there? Re hovered near the foot of the bed with the Dragon King and Azrael. Odin was on my left and Trevor on my right... where was Kirill? I started to ask them, but then I remembered Ragnorak.

  My hand shot to my belly. I was completely healed, the wound in my side gone, along with the pain. Still, I began to sob brokenly, clutching at my stomach, and bending over it as if I could still protect her. Lesya. She was dead. My stomach was flat. Empty. I had killed my daughter.

  “Minn Elska!” Trevor must have been calling my name for some time. He and the other men had their hands on me, and were trying to comfort me. Or were they trying to tell me something? “Vervain!”

  “What?” I cried.

  “She's alive,” it was Odin who broke through my sorrow. He took my face in his palms, and looked at me steadily. “Lesya is alive.”

  “She is?” I cried more. “How? Surgery? Did Hygieia save Lesya? Where is she?”

  “She's in a god-made incubator,” Hygieia said as she came up beside Odin. “The trauma inflicted upon you in the battle,” she scowled at me, and I flinched, “sliced into the womb, right through the uterine wall, and ruptured the placenta. Lesya was luckily unharmed. But that was pure luck, Vervain.”

  “I'm so sorry,” I cried and Trevor pulled me against him.

  “It's not your fault, Carus,” Azrael glared at Hygieia.

  “Well,” Hygieia cleared her throat. “I suppose you all should shoulder the blame.”

  “Can you perhaps not dish out blame immediately after my wife has come through a trauma and nearly lost our child?” Odin snarled at the doctor.

  “She saved thousands of gods today,” Re added. “If Vervain hadn't intervened, who knows what would have happened to the Norse Pantheon.”

  “Yes, okay,” Hygieia sighed. “You're right, my apologies. “It's just that I warned-” she cut herself off when Trevor started to growl. “Yes, I see that you're all very upset right now, so I'll just explain to Vervain what happened with Lesya.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Arach said in a dangerous tone, “and healthy... for you.”

  Hygieia cleared her throat and looked straight at me, “Your baby was in distress. There was no way for anyone to heal you, not even your very talented friend, Teharon. He made the attempt, but all he could do was set you into stasis so that you could be brought here. We performed a C-section on you, and moved Lesya into an artificial womb of my own design,” she paused to smile proudly. “It's an amazing device, bonded with magic. It feeds the baby-”

  “Where is Kirill?” I cut Hygieia off, looking to my men for an answer. “Is he alright?”

  Lesya was fine. It finally sunk in. But immediately after it had, a new panic rose up to replace the last.

  “He's unharmed,” Trevor cooed at me. “Kirill is with his daughter. He didn't want to leave Lesya alone, and we were all here with you.”

  “Oh,” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Then can I see them?”

  “Well, yes, of course,” Hygieia waved a hand at me. “You're fully recovered. Your husband brought his little sun here, and you instinctively recharged yourself, or whatever you wish to call it.”

  “I'm not her husband,” Re said softly, and my eyes shot to his. His words had sounded sad and a little envious.

  Damn it all. Couldn't I take a breath without hurting someone?

  “Your Yule present has already helped me,” I smiled to Re gently, and some of the stiffness left his shoulders. “Thank you, Re.”

  “Indeed,” Arach nodded, “I was very impressed by the charm.”

  “It didn't heal her,” Re shrugged, “Hygieia and her sisters did that.”

  Hygieia accepted the credit with a smile before looking back to me, “Come with me, Vervain, and I shall take you to your daughter.”

  I stumbled out of bed, Azrael and Trevor helping me. But once I was on my feet, I felt quite steady. I was wearing a wrap gown in soft cotton, much more secure than the standard issue hospital gowns, so I was able to walk out of the room without changing. Hygieia took us out into a hallway, and then down to a door at its end. It all looked a little different from her clinic, and I wondered if we were in another wing or another building entirely.

  Hygieia opened the door, and led us into a quiet, shadowy room. There were no lights on in the room, except for a soft, filtered glow, but it was enough to see by. The thud of a rapid heartbeat sounded from a corner. The same corner where Kirill sat, his hand outstretched to a wooden table with a... something on it. It was a glass, egg-shaped object. No wait, the surface rippled from a movement within it. Not glass then. I felt a strong tingle in the air, thick magic coating my skin. The energy was emanating from the object, as was the strange glow.

  And the heartbeat.

  “Vervain,” Kirill stood and rushed over to hug me.

  “Hey you,” I whispered and hugged him back. “How is she?”

  “Beautiful,” he smiled down at me, then led me over to the object. The incubator.

  The other men held back with Hygieia, allowing Kirill and I to have a moment alone with our daughter. Up close, I could see shimmering colors shifting over what appeared to be a flexible film. I'm not sure what it was made of, but it was transparent and tough. The incubator angled back into a cushioned cradle. Silver bands held it in place, and a glowing tube connected it to a machine beneath the counter. The tube seemed to be pumping something through the thick, glowing layers of magic and mystery substance. And another, fleshier looking tube flowed down inside the incubator, through sparkling, pale blue liquid, into my daughter's belly.

  She was curled up peacefully, her tiny eyes shut, one arm around her bent knee, and the other extended out into the liquid as if feeling the flow of energy around her. Sensing her world through fingertips. I drew closer, and saw her miniature fingers, twitching like the tail of a sleeping cat. She was perfect, all her appendages whole, and all the limbs she needed were fully formed. Most important of all, she was alive.

  I sobbed in relief, my hand hovering over the surface of that amazing device. Then I turned, and rushed over to Hygieia. I grabbed her, and hugged her hard, thanking her brok
enly for saving my daughter. She stayed stiff for a second, and then relaxed against me, and hugged me back.

  “You're very welcome, Vervain,” Hygieia said gently. “I'm relieved that it worked. Your daughter is the first living fetus to utilize my invention.”

  “I'm funding your research,” I said to her as I pulled away. “This thing is miraculous. You need to make more.”

  “I... well I,” Hygieia stuttered. “I mean.. that's not necessary. Really. I have the money-”

  “Let me at least make a contribution,” I squeezed her hand, and gave her a little smile, “in addition to whatever your fee is.”

  “Of course,” she nodded, and gestured towards my daughter. “Would you like to hear how it works now?”

  “Yes, very much,” I walked over with her, and stared down at the surreal sight of my child growing outside of me.

  “When I performed the C-section, I was able to remove Lesya with her umbilical cord and a portion of the placenta still intact. I affixed the placenta to the lining of the artificial womb. Through this tube,” she indicated the tube connecting the incubator to the machine below the table, “nutrients and magic are supplied to the placenta, and then they flow down the umbilical cord to Lesya. I gathered some of your magic, after you were replenished, of course,” she nodded to Re, “and added it to the mixture-”

  “Hold on,” I blinked. “You have my magic in there?” I pointed to the machine. “How the hell is that possible?”

  “It's very tricky,” she smiled smugly, “which is why it took me years to perfect. If it were just human babies I was dealing with, it would have been much simpler. But I knew I wanted a way to save supernatural children, and supernatural children, as I mentioned before, need a supply of magic to grow. So I needed to create an enchanted item to store the magic, as well as a system to release it slowly into this artificial womb.”