I’d only been joking, of course, but I’d regretted the words as soon as they tumbled out of my mouth and decided I wasn’t just the village idiot, I was more like the Shanghai-sized idiot, because I just knew someone would mention Freyja’s ability to cure my horniness problem, and Keira had finally seemed to be moving past my brief affair with the goddess.
I sulked for a bit as I steeled myself for the inevitable teasing, but to my surprise, no one brought her up and Keira didn’t even shoot me one of her, “Why do I even tolerate you?” looks. In fact, considering the spate of bad news we’d been delivered lately, she still seemed to be in a fairly good mood. She smiled and lifted an eyebrow at me and said, “Well, I slayed the dragon, you know. And really, how many people get to brag about slaying a dragon?”
Now I really pouted. “I want to slay a dragon. When do I get to become a dragon slayer?”
“Are you seriously hoping we’ll fight another dragon?” Tyr asked. “One wasn’t enough?”
“As long as he doesn’t have a flaming zombie monkey friend, I’m totally down for dragon slaying,” I replied.
Agnes opened one eye and hushed us from across the aisle, so I leaned forward and hushed her back. “Shouldn’t you be hunting down some eye of newt or blood of a righteous man?”
“Those exist?” Keira asked a little too quickly.
“No,” I answered. “Because Agnes hunted them all down and forced their extinction.”
Keira laughed, which only strengthened my resolve not to mention this latest dream until we reached Baton Rouge. I selfishly wanted to enjoy these hours of an almost-happy Valkyrie who, for once, didn’t seem to be carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.
Once we were settled in our hotel again, I summoned the courage to ask Keira about Áki. I wasn’t sure if she’d remember him or not since he was so closely connected to Havard, but I had to at least let her know she’d risked her life to save this child I’d accused her of murdering. She opened her door and waved me inside, immediately returning to her suitcase to finish unpacking and chatting about Frey’s latest update with the CIA. Apparently, he was considering a career change.
She handed me a stack of neatly folded t-shirts and asked me to put them in the dresser, and I could feel that courage I’d summoned slowly slipping away. If I didn’t bring up this dream now, I’d keep this one secret forever. But honestly, I’d been putting it off because I suspected this child, if she remembered him, could be such a painful memory for her and I already knew I’d rather die than hurt her.
“Keira, I had another dream about Havard while we were in Russia,” I said.
Her hands froze above her suitcase, and she gaped at me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
There was an unspoken implication, maybe an accusation, in her voice that she’d been desperately hoping for some piece of information that she hadn’t done something so utterly despicable, something my ancestor had ordered her to do. And those genes were inside me, sometimes so powerful that I wasn’t even sure what was Havard and what was me anymore. Sure, he’d eventually done the right thing, but only because Keira had stood up to him. And that terrified me, because I still wasn’t convinced I wouldn’t become this god whose power was so great, he somehow lived on in me.
I took a deep breath and closed the dresser drawer. “Because I was in awe of you. Because I was worried I’d upset you. And because when I see you like that, so brave and fierce and powerful and compassionate, I realize I’m utterly helpless against falling in love with you.”
Damn it. I hadn’t meant to say that last part. It’d just slipped out along with my admittedly lame explanation as to why I’d kept this dream a secret for days.
“Gavyn,” she whispered.
But I shook my head and asked, “Did you once know a child named Áki?”
Her eyes widened and she gasped. “What did he have to do with Havard?”
“So you remember him?”
“Of course I remember him. He was my son.”
“Keira, he was the child Havard wanted you to kill.”
Her hands rose to her mouth and she backed away from me like I was the one who’d ordered her to murder a child she’d come to love as her own. “How did you think he’d become your ward?” I asked.
“I found him,” she whispered. “Wandering alone in Midgard.”
I recounted the entire dream for her, and when I finished, she gave me a confused look and admitted she remembered little about his childhood. “It was so long ago… but maybe I can’t remember more because of this curse.”
“Or maybe it’s both,” I offered. “But he survives? Odin doesn’t kill him?”
Keira shook her head. “No, he never liked him, but he largely left us alone.”
“And there was obviously no rebellion,” I added.
“There might have been,” she answered carefully. “But as far as any of us know, the gods of Asgard became angry that Odin wouldn’t confront mortals who were turning away from us as Christianity spread through Midgard.”
“Odin won? I mean, he’s still at the head of your pantheon, so he had to have won, right?” Thanks to Havard’s overbearing genes, I was incredibly disappointed that Asgard’s civil war hadn’t displaced him.
Keira’s eyebrows pulled together as she searched for an answer and she finally shrugged and said, “I can’t really remember. When you’ve lived thousands of years, memories have a way of becoming muddled, even without a curse.”
“But you’re sure Áki grew up? Did you ever bring him back to Midgard?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I couldn’t forget that. He grows into such a handsome man with a generous heart and courageous spirit. I think you would have liked him.”
“Probably,” I agreed. “But let’s be honest: I would have annoyed the hell out of him.”
Keira smiled and lifted a shoulder. “He had a great sense of humor. I doubt you would have annoyed him at all.”
“Keira, the way you stood up to Havard and your father… that was incredibly brave. I’m sorry I assumed you’d acted like a monster before.”
“Don’t be,” she hurriedly said. “You can’t control how much of these memories you relive. I would’ve thought the same thing.”
I impulsively reached across the narrow space between her bed and the chair I occupied, taking her hand in mine. “How does your prophecy tie into mine, and why won’t you tell me about it?”
“Gavyn,” she sighed, but she didn’t pull her hand away from me.
“You don’t have to protect me. Okay, maybe you kinda do, but only until we defeat the Sumerians, right?”
She seemed on the verge of relenting about how secretive she’d been over this prophecy, but a knock on her door interrupted our conversation. I scowled at it and whomever was on the other side and their audacity to prevent Keira from finally opening up to me and revealing why she wouldn’t be in a relationship with me.
Tyr’s voice seeped through the door. “Gunnr? Is Gavyn in there with you?”
“It’s Keira,” I shouted back. “And no.”
But Tyr had sounded worried, so I opened the door anyway. As soon as I saw his face, I backed away so he could enter. Something was obviously wrong.
“Freyja just called,” he said. “She can’t reach Frey.”
“We just talked to him,” I replied. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
“That was yesterday,” Tyr argued. “And when half the supernatural world is attempting a violent comeback, going radio silent is concerning no matter how little time has passed.”
“I thought he was still with the CIA,” Keira said. “Surely, they’d let us know if anything happened to him.”
“That’s the thing,” Tyr said. “The agent he’s been working with has also disappeared. And they did let someone know. They called Freyja.”
Keira and I finally began to share Tyr’s concerns. “We shouldn’t have gone to Russia,” I said. “If we’d come back, we might’ve known Frey was in danger.”<
br />
“How?” Keira asked. “He has a number of gods and demigods with him, not to mention one of the most powerful intelligence agencies on Earth. What could we have possibly done to prevent this?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But maybe Frey’s disappearance is retribution for—”
“Gavyn,” Tyr interrupted. “We’re squaring off against gods from all over the world and trying to be the good guys here. If we start second-guessing every decision, every fight, every action we make, we’ll paralyze ourselves. The world needs us.”
“No pressure,” I mumbled.
Tyr ran his good hand over his jet-lagged eyes and sighed. “If he’s dead, there’s obviously nothing we can do. But if he was captured as a ransom, whomever took him will be calling us soon.”
“And where do we stand on negotiating with terrorists?” I asked.
“It’s Frey,” Keira cried. “We have to get him back, even if that requires negotiating with terrorists!”
“Yeah, but not if it means sacrificing the entire planet,” Tyr countered. “He wouldn’t want that.”
Tyr’s phone rang and we all jumped at the unexpected sound, and the remarkably apt timing of the call. He didn’t pull it out of his pocket right away, so I felt a bit pervy staring so close to his crotch, which was really his fault for not immediately answering his phone. But I could tell by his expression as soon as he glanced at the screen that this caller was the god we’d all silently expected.
Tyr put it on speakerphone and eyed me warily, as if knowing I’d likely say something dangerous or stupid and I really wanted to ask the guy if he’d just met me because I always said something dangerous or stupid. Ninurta’s voice slithered from the phone, and my fingers instinctively curled into fists. Man, I hated this guy.
“I assume,” Ninurta said, “you’re with Gavyn?”
“And I assume,” Tyr replied, “you’re with Frey.”
“I have a proposition,” Ninurta said. “You want your god back, surrender your heroes.”
“No,” Keira immediately answered.
“Gunnr,” Ninurta cooed. “I hardly think a Valkyrie is in any position to negotiate with a god.”
“I’m going to kill you,” I snapped. “Just thought you should know.”
“Oh?” Ninurta laughed. “Like you killed me when you stabbed me with Sharur?”
“You were my leverage, dumbass. If I’d killed you, your demigods would’ve had no reason not to shoot me.”
I could almost see the Sumerian war god waving me off like I was only making excuses for my incompetence. “I want your heroes, Tyr. Or the next time you see Frey, it’ll be in pieces I ship to your door.”
Ninurta disconnected before we could even ask how long we had to make a decision. Keira kept frowning at the phone as if Ninurta were actually in there, so to try to make her feel as appreciated as she should, I told her there was no one whose opinion I trusted more than hers. “Besides,” I added. “What does he know? The Valkyries are the most badass warriors in any realm.”
She glanced at Tyr then lowered her eyes again. “It doesn’t matter,” she murmured. “We have to figure out a way to help Frey.”
“I know you won’t like this,” Tyr said. “But I have to call Odin. One of our own has been abducted. He needs to know.”
I groaned but couldn’t argue with him. I wasn’t a god, and Frey wasn’t my family. Tyr lumbered out of Keira’s room, and I gently touched her elbow but she wouldn’t look at me. “For so long, we were no better than slaves,” she said quietly, and I could hear the shame in her voice. It physically hurt me. “The old gods will never see us Valkyries as equals.”
“Even Tyr?”
She shrugged and I began to rethink my relationship with all of the gods, even Yngvarr. “I’ve always liked Tyr,” she explained. “He’s one of the good ones.”
“What do you think Odin will do about Frey? As little as he’s been doing to help us all along?”
“No,” she said. “I think he’ll come for Frey. He’s too fond of him… and his sister.”
“What an asshole,” I thought, but I hardly needed to point that out to the woman he’d forced into millennia of servitude.
And not surprisingly, Keira was right. Tyr returned and announced Odin was on his way, and once he arrived, we’d decide what to do about Ninurta’s ultimatum. But I already knew there was only one thing I could do to save Frey’s life.
I would have to surrender to the war god who wanted me dead most of all.
Chapter Twenty
Yngvarr looked as happy as I felt to see the All-Father joining our ranks in Baton Rouge, but it’s not like we could force the guy to leave. And besides, once the issue with Frey was resolved, he’d most likely be returning to Asgard because saving Midgard was clearly beneath him. I was a lot more relieved to see the arrival of gods I could trust a little more, like Thor and Ull and even Freyja, who was distraught over her brother’s abduction and spent most of her time crying inconsolably. Even Keira regarded her with sympathy and offered her words of comfort and assurances that we would do everything in our power to get him home safely.
I hadn’t told anyone that I was prepared to offer myself in exchange for Frey, and didn’t plan on offering that information to anyone either. They’d only try to change my mind, and I couldn’t let Frey die because of me. Sure, Ninurta had demanded the surrender of all the Norse heroes, but as Freyja was so fond of saying, everything was negotiable.
Yngvarr refused to sit with Odin in the room and stood in the corner with his arms folded tightly across his chest. Odin would occasionally steal glances in his direction, as if waiting for the younger war god to snap and leap across the room in an attempt to strangle him. And honestly, I thought Yngvarr could definitely take him, and I kinda wanted to see it.
John, our CIA contact here in Baton Rouge, opened his laptop and pulled up a list of possible locations where Ninurta was keeping Frey. They were all in the U.S., which only reinforced our belief that the Sumerians had no intention of reclaiming what used to be Sumer. They were aiming far higher and had targeted one of the most powerful countries in the world. They wanted to rule America.
“So are you guys planning some sort of Bin Laden raid on each of these complexes?” I asked.
He blinked at me in that incredibly annoying way of his then returned his attention to the screen. “Since I’ve been assured you gods can’t teleport, the most likely location is close to where Frey was when he disappeared, which would put him in Chicago.”
“Chicago,” I repeated.
“Yes,” John answered slowly. “You know… the city in Illinois?”
“I know where Chicago is, smartass,” I snapped. “It’s just a huge city and we have no idea where to even start looking. Hell, by the time we get there, Ninurta will know we’re after him instead of rounding up heroes to hand over to his perverse evil lair.”
“Perverse?” Tyr asked. “Why perverse?”
I shrugged. “It’s Ninurta. You just know he’s a total pervert.” I probably shouldn’t have said that in front of Freyja, because it only led to a new round of uncontrollable sobbing.
Odin shot me a “You really are a world-class dumbass” look and put his arm around the goddess he’d long coveted. And I couldn’t help thinking this was all a ploy to try to get Freyja into bed with him, which only reinforced what a lowlife creep the bastard was.
“Hey,” I said, trying to mitigate the damage I’d caused, “I was kidnapped by this asshole, too, and not only did I escape, no one even hurt me. They drugged me, which kinda sucked, but it eventually wore off and I’m totally fine.”
“You’re a lot of things, Gavyn,” Yngvarr added helpfully, “but I don’t think totally fine is one of them.”
So naturally, I flipped him off before reminding him that I had been perfectly fine before two women showed up at my door, kidnapped me, and hauled me off to Iceland so I could fight a bunch of pissed gods who thought they deserved to rule th
e world. And I was pretty sure everyone who thought they deserved to rule the world didn’t actually deserve to rule the world. And the Sumerians, in particular, seemed grossly under-qualified.
“Are you done?” Tyr asked me.
I thought about it for a few seconds then nodded. “Think so. Unless you’d like to rant about the Egyptians for a few minutes, too.”
“Actually,” Odin interjected, “I’d like to give you something.”
Both Yngvarr and I tensed over Odin’s “gift,” assuming whatever it was couldn’t be good. But he flipped open a large case, and even though I was terribly curious as to what the All-Father would bring me, I asked anyway. “How the hell did you get that through customs?”
He glanced at me and shrugged. “You’d be surprised at what we can convince humans they’re seeing or not seeing.”
“Aha!” I exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at Agnes. “That’s how you got Hunter and me on the flight to Iceland.”
She just shrugged, too. “Of course. You didn’t think we actually had your passports, did you?”
Well, yeah, actually. I mean, witches could do magical shit like that, couldn’t they?
But Odin pulled a dull shield from the case and handed it to me. I turned it over in my hands, but no matter how many times I flipped it, the damn thing remained a shield. And not just any shield but a rather useless one considering it was made from wood. “Um… this had better be for sledding.”
“Don’t worry,” Odin assured me. “It’s far sturdier than it looks. It’s enchanted.”
“Enchanted how? Can it make me invisible? Because I’ll be honest: I’d let Keira emasculate me again if I could become invisible.” I thought about it then shook my head. “No, never mind. Considering I just got them back, I’m keeping my balls, but I would like to be invisible.”
“Gavyn,” Keira groaned.
“What?” I asked innocently. “You’re the one who did the emasculating, so you can’t really complain about it now. Let the next guy you kidnap keep his—”
“Gavyn,” Tyr sighed.
“Hold up, one complaint at a time.”
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