Freyja's Daughter

by Rachel Pudelek

  Strength vibrated through my body and rang in my ears. I couldn’t wait to show Shawna one day, to help her to find her power and tree-jump as our foremothers must have. By the time I reached the top of Mt. Mitchell and allowed my bark to fade into my skin, my cheeks were rosy with exertion and my muscles ached for more.

  Gabrielle stood beside a motionless Eonza as she smoothed down her slacks and blazer and ran her fingers through her long hair.

  “You missed this,” I said, pulling a tiny golden feather from Gabrielle’s black hair. “You could make a necklace or earing from it.” I faked a smile, hoping the harpy would see me as nonthreatening.

  Gabrielle scrunched her face. “That’s gross.”

  I shot a glance to Eonza who wore feather earrings and a feather necklace.

  Eonza didn’t seem offended. She watched us with a blank face. Her talons eased into her bare toes, which now looked like normal feet. And her feathers retreated into her pores as her wings bound themselves and hid under her skin behind her shoulder blades.

  When Gabrielle finished grooming herself she canvased the area. “Oh! Is that a pool? Is it salt water or chlorine?”

  She ran to a long infinity pool at the top of the mountain. Its edge ended where the mountain cliff dropped off.

  I inhaled and smelled salt water. She probably sensed it too, because she plummeted both arms into the liquid, blazer and all.

  “You didn’t notice it when you two flew in?” I asked, pivoting on the ball of my foot to take the area in, as though I were interested in the harpies and where they called home rather than the potential information they held.

  “My eyes were shut the whole time, and I wasn’t paying attention with my other senses either.” Gabrielle lay on the cement surrounding the pool, belly down, and hung her arms in the water. “I was trying to pretend I wasn’t up in the air—the opposite of taking it all in.”

  “Eonza, I don’t see your house.” I peered up into the tree tops, assuming harpies’ homes perched within the branches, but only a few small birds’ nests resided among the leaves.

  “This is our home.” She motioned her head toward the pool and Gabrielle’s face lit up. Eonza pointed to a narrow opening of cement stairs. “That way. In the mountainside, under the pool.”

  Gabrielle sighed as she pulled herself from the water and followed Eonza and me. She peeled her drenched blazer from her arms and wrung it out over her head, dripping salt water down her face and back. The open-air staircase led to a large wooden door on the left and only a cement wall on the right.

  Eonza opened the door to reveal a narrow sitting room. Every chair pointed toward the main attraction, a thick wall made of glass, overlooking the outdoors. The home had been cut into the cliff and the glass was the cliff’s opening. Owl and cat figurines sat along scattered, wall-mounted bookshelves. A large, life-sized carving of their goddess, Inanna, had been engraved into the cement wall. She stood naked holding two circular symbols with wings unfurled. Cats and owls sat at her feet.

  “I feel nauseous,” Gabrielle said, taking a seat and staring out at the forest below.

  “Why? Your house looks over a cliff too,” I said, appreciating the view.

  “Yes,” Gabrielle said. “Over the ocean where the water is always moving. Everything is so still here. The view is too motionless.”

  “Welcome.” Two harpies descended the dark wooden stairs inside the house, from the upper level rooms. The first one spoke to Gabrielle. “You’ll get plenty of a view with movement from the bedroom. I’m sure you’ll be comfortable here.”

  Gabrielle shot up and stood beside me.

  All three harpies were tall and lean with pale skin and light eyes. They looked related, which I hadn’t seen among Wilds during my recent travels.

  “Hello, I’m Salis and my sister here is Lapis.”

  “Your mother have a thing for crystals?” I asked. Being that my Aunt Patricia is an acupuncturist, crystals and their healing benefits had been a topic of discussion in my coterie on more than one occasion.

  Salis cocked her head and her tawny hair brushed against her right shoulder. The few feathers tied into the bottoms of a handful of tiny braids blended with her hair color.

  “Yes, and also Lapis’s wings are blue,” Eonza said matter-of-factly.

  The three harpies stared at me with unblinking eyes like three birds perched on a branch. Obviously, humor is lost on harpies.

  “Our mother is Rose. Her wings are the color of rose quartz,” Lapis said.

  “And she’s mother to all of you?” I asked, just to clarify.

  “Well, she couldn’t name Salis Smokey Quartz and Eonza Gold,” Lapis joked.

  It took me a of couple seconds of staring blankly to understand that she’d been referring to their wing colors and crystals, not answering my question. I’d witnessed harpy humor—a little late to the punch and dry as vermouth

  “No, that’s not what I meant,” I said. My mind had already moved past that topic and on to learning more about the harpy group. “So what about your mother’s sisters? Where are they?”

  “She had none,” Eonza answered.

  I hoped she’d explain further but no such luck. Instead of answers, all three sets of harpy eyes focused on me.

  My cell phone rang and they jumped back. Two blue feathers grew from Lapis’ arm.

  I answered the phone, a little surprised I had cell service all the way out here. “You in town?”

  “I’m at your motel, but you’re not,” Marcus replied.

  “No, I’m not, but if you’re willing to wait, I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” I needed to pick up the rental car at the golf club restaurant on my way back.

  “Fine, but hurry up.” Marcus ended the call.

  What was his issue lately? I was the one with a missing sister. Where did he get off acting like that? Well, I was about to find out.

  “I have to go. Gabrielle, you’re staying here, aren’t you?” I asked, knowing full well Gabrielle yearned for another dip in the salt water pool.

  “You’re more than welcome to stay with us,” Lapis said. “Our mother’s bed is empty. You could use that. If you don’t mind that we all share a room. Our roof is the bottom of the pool, so you’ll be able to watch the water tonight.” She smiled as though she understood Gabrielle’s needs perfectly, and I remembered that the mermaids and the harpies had a bond. Their foremothers used to wreck ships together.

  “Was that your male on the phone?” Eonza asked.

  Unsure how to answer, I said, “Uh, not really. No.”

  Eonza grinned. “Then he can stay in our empty rental house and I will visit him later tonight.”

  Eonza’s coldly formal idea of getting pregnant was none of my business. But Marcus was entirely my business. He wasn’t my boyfriend, and would never be, but the idea of him getting it on with Eonza boiled my blood a little.

  “Sorry, Eonza,” I said. “This male has a Wilds hands-off policy on him.” Placed there by me. Also, I wasn’t his pimp.

  Her smile faded and she tossed her hair. “I’ll show you to our room,” she told Gabrielle, completely ignoring my presence. “And then we can go for a swim.”

  Gabrielle nodded excitedly. “Perfect. I’m so dehydrated since the flight.”

  I gawked at Gabrielle’s vacation-mode attitude. But of course, it wasn’t her sister being held captive. “All right then,” I said, showing myself out as the mermaid and the harpies made their way up to the room on the higher level of the home. “I’ll be back later.” Though, I doubted anyone was listening.

  I pulled the rental car into a parking spot directly in front of my white hotel room door. Marcus stood on the welcome mat, glaring at me. Between him and the harpies, I’d had my fair share of staring contests for the day.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and prepared for awkwardness to ensue.

  We didn’t speak. Not when I exited the car. Not when I walked toward him. Not when I unlocked my room door. Not when
we walked in, and not after I shut and locked the door behind us.

  I sat on the floral-patterned bed comforter for all of one second before I jumped up and walked to sit on one of the two chairs at the table near the closed curtains—which, by the way, matched the comforter.

  Marcus only observed me. I examined him, too. He looked…bigger. His broad shoulders seemed a little broader. His thick, muscular forearms seemed a little more muscular. His five o’clock shadow looked as though it had peaked a day ago. He wore a baseball cap over his normally well-styled hair. Worry lines creased his forehead.

  I couldn’t take the silence any longer, the sizing one another up.

  “Something’s wrong,” I said.

  Marcus considered me for a few moments. He set a manila envelope on the table, but I refused to remove my gaze from his.

  “What? Is it Shawna? Did you find something?” I asked.

  Marcus bit the inside of his lower lip and looked away. When he turned back, his eyes spoke of betrayal and loss. He jammed his hands into his jean pockets and shook his head. “You’re a Wild Woman,” was all he said.

  I jumped up.

  “How do you know what that is?” I demanded.

  Marcus looked up at the ceiling and then at the ground. “They’re in trouble, the Wild Women, your kind…you’re in trouble. It’s not just the huldra, it’s all of you. You need to act and you need to act fast.”

  My insides vibrated and I had to blink away tears of frustration. Not even folkloric scholars knew the phrase “Wild Women.” They thought each group was a completely separate being of myth. They had no clue as to our connected creation. “You keep saying those words. What do they mean to you, Marcus?” How long had he known? Who’d told him? Had he noticed the bark on my lower back the night we were together? Had I slipped up and said something revealing?

  He shook his head, but wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  I moved toward him. “Marcus!” Despite my better judgement I took his face in my hands and forced him to look at me. His short whiskers pricked my palms. “How do you know those words? How do you know about…me?” Fear flushed through me and my eyes watered.

  “Because, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Faline,” he spoke through a hoarse throat. “But I’m a Hunter.”

  Eighteen

  Marcus pulled out of my grasp. And I was glad he did.

  I bit the inside of my cheek and stared at my boots. “Fuck it,” I said as I tore them off my feet and chucked them across the room. They hit the framed painting of a mountain and sent it crashing to the floor. I thought to grab my switchblade, but my protective huldra instincts responded quicker than my hand. Bark crept along my skin before I had the chance to reach into my pocket for a weapon.

  My stomach knotted and my huldra growled to be set free—to somehow hurt the Hunter who not only lied to me, but whose utter betrayal now tore my heart in two. How could he? My thoughts spun with questions about his motives for befriending me, for asking me on a date, for declaring his need for a committed relationship. Marcus of all men.

  “Please tell me you didn’t set me up at the hotel the night we were supposed to have our second date.” My voice broke and I had to take another breath before continuing. “Tell me you were called away on police business, that you weren’t lying about that.” I’d been physically hurt by Hunters, but I refused to let one make me cry. I fought the tears threatening to spill over and replaced them with hot anger. Bark ridges popped up on the tops of my feet and trailed to my leg like a run in pantyhose.

  Marcus’s widened eyes shot to mine. “No, I didn’t set you up. I’d never do that. Not to you, not to anyone.” For the first time, I hated the sincerity in his eyes. “But yes, I did lie about the phone call; it was from the brotherhood.”

  I took a step back and shook my head.

  Marcus spoke quicker. “We both know I couldn’t have told you who really called. I hadn’t heard from them in a long time. But they said it was an emergency, so I assumed it was about my father. I went straight to his house, but when I got there everything was fine.”

  I couldn’t control it any longer. I had to hurt him the way his words were hurting me. I knocked Marcus onto the bed and straddled him, but once I had the opportunity to harm him, my anger fizzled and I froze, not sure what to do or how to feel. Within seconds he whipped me around and pinned me on my back.

  Marcus sighed. “I didn’t come to fight. I came to help.”

  I considered throwing him off of me, but couldn’t fully commit to leaving our entanglement. Not with his intoxicating scent so close. His nearness soothed my distress, enabling me to reorganize my thoughts. Whether he really flew all this way to tell me the truth, to aide me or not, I had to hear him out. He might know something about Shawna’s disappearance.

  He finished explaining as he released me and sat beside me on the bed. “They lured me away from you with a fake call. I didn’t know you were a huldra then, but I still wouldn’t have let them near you.”

  I sat up. “But you know now. Why do you want to help me? A Wild.”

  “Because I’ve had a thing for you since the day you brought in your first skip and he tried to kick you in the shin, and you took him to his knees for it. The first time I met you.” Marcus huffed and straightened his disheveled shirt.

  I’d never been in a romantic relationship, so before this moment I hadn’t understood the notion of wanting to hug and hit a person at the same time. “I’m so pissed off at you right now… And at myself.” I huffed. “That first night we went out, I was trying to bed a Hunter.” I’d tried to sleep with the enemy. To save face, I preferred to cover my embarrassment with frustration. Bark grew across my skin in response, but slower than usual. He knew what I was. He knew who I was. And I’d been oblivious the whole time.

  I started to ask when he realized I was a Wild Woman, how long had he known, but he interrupted me. “Don’t do that,” Marcus said in a flat, controlled voice.

  “Do what?” I asked defensively.

  “That bark thing. Your knuckles.” He ground out the words as though it hurt to talk. “Being around a Wild Woman is hard for me—sets my muscles in motion, makes them grow stronger. When you start to change like that…it sets off alarms…that I’ve never practiced controlling.”

  So that’s why he seemed bigger. Why he’d seemed swollen and complained of his muscles feeling sore the day we went to the police event…after our first date. My line of thought left me with images of Marcus, sans shirt, the first night we went out. I’d just practically scolded myself for trying to bed a Hunter and here I was thinking of trying again. I spoke to fill the lingering silence. “That tattoo on your shoulders, the one you didn’t want to talk about the night we went back to your place, is that a Hunter tattoo?”

  Marcus nodded and absently touched his chest. “I had the ink done before I left the brotherhood. I haven’t been to the complex in years. Not since I found out that my mother didn’t leave of her own volition. That’s just the story I tell because it’s the story I’ve been told. She couldn’t agree to the domination and deceit of the Hunter lifestyle, and once she made that clear, my father wouldn’t let her leave with me and he wouldn’t let her stay either. The day I learned that truth, I handed in my dagger and didn’t look back. You know I’ve told you that I don’t talk to my father much. That’s true. Everything I said was true.” Marcus ran his fingers through his messy hair. His ball cap must have fallen off during our bed-pinning tussle.

  I read Marcus’s body language, contemplated his words, weighed them against the many conversations we’d had at the jail’s intake desk, our dinner out, and our evening together afterwards.

  My feet tingled as though someone ran a feather along my skin. I looked down to see why. My bark receded, faded into my pores. It crawled down to my toes and left smooth skin in its wake.

  Was that another secret Wild ability? The ability to intuitively detect truth from lies? Because it seemed that my body believed him before my
mind decided on a verdict.

  “Your skin’s changing,” Marcus said in awe.

  I nodded. “I trust you.”

  I started to get up from the bed when he grabbed my hand and locked eyes with me. “Your bark is beautiful. I don’t care what it does to me. I shouldn’t have told you to stop it from spreading. I’m sorry.”

  I bit my lip to keep from tearing up. This Hunter was taught to find my wildness repulsive and instead he admired it. I stood, my hand still wrapped securely in his, and walked to the table with him close behind. With my free hand I ran my fingers along the envelope. “What will I find in here?” I asked.

  Marcus released my hand, but didn’t part from me. His breath on my neck sent shivers through every nerve and muscle. I closed my eyes and swallowed my biological response to feeling him so close, to inhaling his scent.

  “When you called from Oregon and asked me to access the missing persons reports, you mentioned a missing friend between the ages of eighteen and mid-twenties with a large snake tattoo. Not many young women have that kind of body ink, but succubi are known for it.”

  He paused and gave me a look. It felt strange to hear him talk about a Wild Woman as though it were an everyday thing to him. Yesterday he had been only Marcus the Police Officer to me. Today he was someone entirely new.

  He went on. “And you were in their region at the time. But I figured it had to be a coincidence. There was no way a huldra was helping a succubus. Still, I needed to be sure. So I pulled up your most recent skip arrest and your last name stood out to me. Faline Frey, as in the Norse goddess Freyja. I kept telling myself it was all a coincidence, but I had to follow my hunch. After I gathered those reports for you, I dug deeper and eventually found what’s in that envelope.”