Dead Wrath (A Valkyrie Novel - Book 4)

by T. G. Ayer

  She squealed and ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing so hard I could see him choke. "Thank you, thank you. You won't regret it, I promise," she blabbered as she grinned at him.

  "Yeah, sure," he said as he removed her arms from her chokehold. Then he looked at me. "Only as long as she is safe."

  "Of course. She'll be as safe as you can make her," I said evenly, enjoying the array of emotions that sped across his face.

  "What?" he spluttered. "You want me to watch her?"

  "Whatever team I put her on, she will need to be watched, from the time she arrives until the time she leaves. You have her best interests at heart and I do think you are the perfect person to ensure success. I'll make sure you two are with whichever teams need the likes of Enya's talent. And don't worry. Her part should be quick. In and out."

  "So you say," he mumbled.

  I went to him, and as I moved, I glanced at Joshua, tipping my head in Enya's direction. He called her over, pretending to want to show her how we were planning the next mission. While he kept her busy, I reached Aidan and asked, "Are you annoyed because you've been given a responsibility?"

  "I wasn't exactly planning on going out on missions with my sister. Now you have me looking after her," he snapped, folding his arms, his shoulders stiff.

  "Aidan, what is it you think I do every time I go out with a scout team? What does every team leader do when out on a mission?" I asked softly.

  There was a very long, awkward silence as I waited for his answer. "Yeah, I hear you. Responsibility for all team members. So I guess I treat her like any other team member."

  "Exactly. Get them all out alive. Most important task."

  He nodded and gave me a sheepish glance. "Thanks."

  "For what?" I asked, now curious as to where he was going with his gratitude.

  "For making the hard choice. The easy choice would have been to send Enya running back to Mother to cry her eyes out."

  I made a face, then sighed, feeling the twist of pain deep in my gut. Then I gave him a weak grin and said, "For you, maybe. Not for me. I've made the hard choices for far too long and it's sure getting old."

  He didn't respond, just put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed.

  Then he called Enya and they both left, leaving me lost in thought, Joshua busy tapping away at his keyboard. I'd hit the nail on the head, though.

  The hard choices sure were getting old.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Things had gotten to the point where we'd decided where all the next teams were headed. We'd gathered in the war room the next morning after breakfast to advise each of the teams of where they were headed and what they were expected to do. We'd been busy for a while when I felt someone come to stand beside me.

  I looked up to find Siri at my elbow and I did a double take. She stood there wearing the requisite black leather pants and shirt, with the chainmail overdress, just the same as I wore. Where I preferred the knee-length leather coat, Siri had thrown on her own short black jacket, and I had to admit, with her long golden hair and fiery eyes, she was an impressive sight. And I'd forgotten all about her.

  "You forgot about me, didn't you?" she asked, an amused twist to her lips.

  I could hardly deny it considering it had been clearly plastered all over my face when I laid eyes on her. I had to laugh. "I'm sorry, Siri. It's been a bit crazy around here today."

  She waved me off. "It's okay. I figured you'd be busy so I had a rest and then decided to look for you."

  I studied the young girl, listening to the way she spoke, and at last I hit on what had been bugging me all along. "Your accent," I said, frowning. "You don't speak at all like your father or even your grandmother."

  She shook her head and sat on the edge of the table. "Nope. I was brought up in Midgard. My Mom took me away from Muspell. She didn't think growing up in the underworld would be enough to broaden my horizons."

  "I'll bet Tyra said your horizons didn't need broadening," I said with a giggle.

  "You know her well," said Siri, arching an eyebrow. "But she was wrong. Midgard was a total education. I mean, I was taken there as a toddler, so I grew up like any normal human kid. Although, I did know from early on that I was different."

  "What gave it away?"

  "You mean apart from the golden dragon that visited us on a regularly basis? And the fact that we needed one very large, high-ceilinged room just to accommodate his arrival, gold dust and all?" she asked wryly. Then she sighed. "I understood, though. I never resented him. Who could resent a dad like that?"

  "Mmh. Resenting isn't what comes to mind when one lays eyes on a guy like Steinn," I said with a groan.

  "Hey, he's taken. And so are you," she admonished, her cheeks going red.

  I waggled my eyebrows. "Nobody said I couldn't look. Besides, you'd have to be blind not to see that much hotness." I giggled again as she stuck her tongue out at me. "How old are you anyway?"

  "Sixteen, but I'm not your average teenager." Of course, she had to include that disclaimer.

  "I can imagine you're not," I responded sagely. "Do you have your dragon form yet?"

  Siri nodded. "Yeah, I went through the change last year."

  "Good, we could certainly do with a flexible method of transport," I winked at her, only half serious.

  "Sure. I'm flexible. I also make fire," she said, still nodding but now with a serious expression on her face. Then she giggled. "But to be honest, that's all I can do. Make fire and be the dragon." She made a face.

  "What more do you want to be able to do?" I asked, curious as to what she really meant.

  She shrugged, then sighed. "I don't really know. I'm just tired of being told what I am and what I'm not."

  "Then make your own future," I suggested.

  "What do you mean?" She stared at me as if I'd grown another head. "My grandmother left me in your care. I don't think she'd be too thrilled to hear you tell me that," she said with another giggle.

  Her laughter reminded me so much of Izzy, my foster sister from my stay with Ms. Custer. The giggle and that carefree smile. "Hey, don't tell on me, but all I meant was it's all well and good for everyone to be telling you who you are and who you must be. But you need to know deep inside yourself what you also want to be. Then you can be what you want to be, plus what everyone else is telling you, and you'll find you are actually happy and fulfilled. Until you find your own happiness, everyone else's needs are just noise."

  She turned her head and studied me for a moment. "How old are you, really? You sound like an ancient monk." I laughed, but she didn't wait for my answer, which was probably a good thing. "Grandmother told me how you saved my life. I wanted to thank you for doing that."

  "Oh, it wasn't as if I had a choice," I said wryly, remembering how I'd felt like I was walking around with the blade of a guillotine hanging over my head.

  "Did the old bat threaten you?" Siri asked, frowning.

  "Watch it. She could have her eyes watching you," I said, making a show of looking around the room.

  "Yeah, watching, not listening," Siri said. Then she dissolved into another fit of giggles and I couldn't help but join her.

  A voice broke into our mirth. "What is so funny? I thought pre-mission jitters were supposed to give you an upset stomach, not a case of giggles." We both turned to find Aidan grinning at us, Enya at his shoulder, looking equally amused.

  I made quick introductions, then said, "You girls have fire, or at least heat in common. Maybe go figure out a way you can both work together." They drifted to the far end of the table to continue their discussion. I watched them for a short moment, seeing only innocence that would soon be destroyed. Morbid, but I was deeply affected again by the knowledge that we were all so young.

  When I sighed, Aidan asked, "Penny for them?"

  I turned to him. "I was just thinking how strange it was that we are all so young. Where the hell are all the powerful gods to help us win this war?"

  "They are
here, but most of them are afraid of the prophecies. Nobody wants to be the one to change the prophecy and neither do they want to fulfill it. So they are all in the odd position of having to leave the decision making to someone else."

  He seemed to understand it exactly the way I did. Thor had been the one to explain why the war effort was being led by a Valkyrie with the likes of the Ulfr general working for her. And with the gods supplying armies but trying to remain uninvolved.

  "I have another theory, if you're interested," Aidan offered. When I nodded, he continued. "It has to do with the Vanir and the Aesir. We all know how Freya ended up on Odin's side. Because she was traded off to the Aesir. And all the gods here know when trouble comes, the gods meet and they can always change the entire face of the ruling god's powers."

  "So they plan to stay out of it until all the chips fall. And if Odin dies, then things on the game board get shaken up," I said, understanding what Aidan meant.

  "Exactly," he said, but he didn't get to say anything else.

  A commotion at the door had us both on our feet and running. All I heard was 'Fen' and 'hurt', and I went flying out of the room toward his hall next door.

  I sped inside and dashed to Fen, landing hard at his side. My heart thudded painfully against my ribs as I tried to breathe to get the words out and ask him what had happened. He was propped up against the wall beside the hearth, blood streaming from the three wounds in the middle of his chest. The white feathers of three arrows shivered as he inhaled, his breathing rattling as if something had come loose inside him. Blood seemed to flow faster as he looked up at me.

  "Bryn," he said, his voice shuddering as he raised his hand at me.

  "I'm here. What happened?" I asked, keeping my voice even and free from the god-awful fear running through me. I was impatient to hear what he had to say but still aware that from the location of the arrows, at least two could be embedded in his lungs. Too much talking could likely kill him. "And keep it short and sweet," I instructed, my voice harsh and filled with fear.

  "They took Thor," he rasped, his eyes pained.

  Terror rippled through me. They'd taken the only god who'd been actively helping with investigations with actual progress. "Who?"

  "Frost giants," he said, pointing at the door.

  "How did they get in?" I asked, but all he did was shake his head. "Is Thor still alive?"

  He nodded to my question.

  "Injured," he said, "or somehow weakened. Not sure."

  "Okay. You rest. We'll get you some help." My voice shook as I spoke. What would I do without Fen? I could not lose him too. I stood so suddenly that a few people around me stepped away in shock. I gave instructions for Fen to be taken to the goddess Eir. "Somebody find me Frigga."

  I didn't have to wait long. Minutes later, Frigga rushed into the room and knelt beside me, ignoring the pool of blood collecting at her knees. "What happened?" the goddess asked, looking over her shoulder at me while I paced.

  I gave her a quick rundown. "That's all I know for now."

  "Who could have done this and how did they get in?"

  "He said frost giants." My gaze snapped to Fen. "Was it Sven?" I asked sharply, but he shook his head, and I was inexplicably relieved.

  I wouldn't want to know that I was responsible for letting them stay in Asgard.

  "Fenrir," someone yelled out at the doorway, and the topic of our discussion entered the hall. Sven hurried inside and knelt beside Fen, on the other side of Frigga. She gave him a sharp look. He bowed in greeting. "My lady."

  "Sven." She returned the greeting, and I was even more relieved to see that Frigga knew him too and clearly trusted him. "Don't disturb him, my lord. Fenrir has said they were frost giants. So what do you intend to do about this?"

  "Me, my lady?" asked Sven, his voice reaching a high-pitched squeak. Extremely funny in such a huge man and frost giant. I would have laughed had I not felt so utterly lost.

  "Yes, Sven," she said patiently. "Tell me what you are going to do about this mess."

  A moment of silence went by in which the Jotunn seemed to be grappling with some inner foe. "Very well, I will use my connections to find out who did this, but I have to warn you. I may be putting many lives at risk."

  "You will do whatever is necessary to find out who did this. I do not care how many lives you put at risk. Fenrir is injured and Thor is gone. Do you want to be held responsible for the death of a god?" I'd never heard Frigga speak like that before. Her voice had gone low and ragged, so filled with fury and with desperation.

  "My dear lady, of course I will do whatever it takes," he said, then hesitated for a moment before placing a hand on Fen's shoulder. He stared at the Ulfr with a look of utter sadness on his face, then got to his feet, turned on his heel, and walked straight out of the hall without another word.

  Frigga and I watched him leave, and then I just stood there facing the empty doorway. I barely noticed when someone brushed past me to get to Fen, barely registered when they carried him out on a stretcher.

  Only when the hall had emptied did I turn to face the hearth, dreading the sight of the pool of blood that would be left behind.

  I was not surprised to see that Frigga was still there. She stood by the fire, watching as it died slowly and only when the last embers had turned white did she face me.

  "They will get them, Bryn," she said, her eyes watching my face for my reaction. "Now you need to be strong, to concentrate on the fight at hand. Fen will be fine. He's a strong wolf," she said with a short, mirthless laugh.

  "I know. And he's going to give Lady Eir a pretty hard time." I snorted at the image.

  "That much I'm sure of," she said with a smirk, then turned and glided out of the hall, her white skirts and hands streaked with blood.

  "He has to get better," I prayed, staring at the dead fire, speaking the words through gritted teeth. "He simply has to survive."

  The problem was I wasn't entirely sure there was anyone listening.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I'm not sure how long I stood there, alone and in shock in the now cold hall. The fire had burned out and only pale ash remained when I finally stirred. Fen was supposed to be invincible. He was the wolf son of Loki, with the blood of power and of the gods flowing in his veins.

  How was it even possible that he could be so very vulnerable?

  I shook my head and turned slowly on my heel. I felt strange, as if I were walking under water. But I forced myself to move, to head back to the war room. Fen was injured and right now there was nothing I could do to help him. Worse yet, Thor had been taken right from under our noses. I needed more information, but Fen had been in no condition to help. Maybe when the arrows were removed, he would be able to give me a little more information.

  Though I intended to return to the war room to prepare, my feet and my subconscious had other plans. I walked straight past the room, which was occupied by a few dozen scout team members all still milling around waiting for me. But I couldn't give them any directions right now.

  I wanted to speak to Fen before I sent them all off to Midgard. Who knew what information Fen had that could help us find Thor? A shiver of fear ran through me. What would Loki do with Thor now that he had his brother in his clutches? I'd always found Loki quite a mercurial character. He could be pretty charming when he wanted to, and with this blond, rugged good looks, I could see many a girl falling for him. But what I found unsettling was his shape-shifting abilities. His frost giant blood coming to the fore.

  I rubbed my cheek where Loki had left a thin scar, a token of his rage when he'd been in gigantic black falcon form. The cut had healed so well I could barely see it anymore, but I knew it was there, almost as if it had taken on some of Loki's personality. It taunted me with my failure to capture him in Jotunnheim, taunted me with all the other times he'd escaped from us.

  It had to stop.

  It was well past time Loki paid for his crimes. The things he did weren't funny anymore. They were vindi
ctive and cruel, and I wasn't planning on sitting idly by and allowing him to have his way.

  I'd been so deep in thought that I almost walked straight past Eir's room. The goddess of healing had tended to me before and I knew I could trust her to help heal Fen. I knocked lightly on the open door before entering the white room. It was a large room with space enough to treat many patients at a time. Eir looked up and gave me a soft smile. She glanced over at the cot beside the wall. Fen lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. His jaw was tight, and I wasn't sure if it was anger or pain that made his muscles so tense.

  "Has he been giving you a hard time?" I asked softly.

  "No more than he usually does," she answered with a grin.

  "You two do know I'm right here and I can hear you?" he asked, but neither of us paid him any attention.

  "How is he?" I asked.

  "I've removed the arrows and managed to close the broken arteries, so I think he should be fine. Ulfr heal much faster than most species. His wounds are already beginning to knit."

  Fen grunted. "I am still here, you know."

  We both laughed softly and Eir waved me off. I went to Fen's side and took a seat on a small stool that sat beside his bed. "Why so grumpy?"

  He huffed and glared at me. "You try being confined to bed with three holes in your chest."

  "Stop being such a baby. Eir said the wounds are already closing. You're as bad as human men when they get sick. You'd think you were about to keel over and die from those three pinpricks," I said, raising an eyebrow and finding it incredibly hard not to laugh.

  "You sound just like Sigrun," said Fen, shaking his head. A grin tugged at his lips.

  "Well, somebody has to make sure you don't make a mountain out of a molehill," I said, hiding my amusement. "So how soon can you get out of here? I need a team leader for the Melbourne mission."

  Fen turned his head and finally met my gaze, giving me a glare that would have frozen most men in their boots. But I was not most men. I stared back stubbornly and waited, figuring that although he wanted sympathy, he probably wanted to get back on his feet more. "What's in Melbourne?" was all he asked.