She moved closer still, until I shivered in the envelope of ice-cold air that preceded her. Her thumb absently traced a circle on the gun holstered to her hip. There was no room for error in this encounter.
“I’ll prove I belong with you.”
“You’ve had four shots at me, and each time you’ve only come out alive because I’ve let you,” Astrid retorted.
I forced myself not to react to that revelation, because all along I’d been assuming she wanted me dead. “Not you,” I said taking a step back just in case. “Her.” I pointed one finger after covertly picking out the girl who looked the smallest. Because she only had two inches on me. And probably a thousand years of combat experience.
“It seems we finally have a learning curve,” Astrid snapped. I felt the current that flowed between them, a silent communication, just out of my reach.
“She would be more than happy to kill you.” Astrid stepped back, out of the way.
The girl flew at me before I had a chance to brace myself, and we collided against the mirrored wall of the club, shattering the glass into a million glittering pieces that trickled to the floor like rain. But surprise and a handgun were the only advantages she had. I could feel it, the superior strength and agility that were a gift from my grandmother’s bloodline. I pushed her away by the shoulder, and it actually worked. She staggered back three steps before she caught her balance and lunged for me again.
There was a world of difference between fighting Astrid and fighting her lackey. The girl’s hold yielded to mine as we grappled for control of the handgun.
This was a fight I could actually win.
And I did. All it took a flick of my wrist in the other direction, too quick for her to counter, and the gun was mine and pressed against the girl’s windpipe. That stopped her dead in her tracks. It was so easy, I almost wondered if I’d broken some rule, and if that explained my victory. But no one raised her voice in protest as I pushed her hard against the wall, keeping the gun in place.
“Do you surrender?” I demanded.
Instead of answering, she just glared at me like she’d rather stay like this for the rest of our lives than give in.
“Surrender,” I growled, but my voice broke this time. If she didn’t, I had no idea what I’d do next. And still she just stared at me without blinking.
Her eyes were gray. Just like Tuck’s. Was I prepared to shoot her, if that’s what it would take?
“You’ll have to kill her,” Astrid whispered in my ear. I hadn’t realized she’d crept so close until I felt cool fingers press against my forearm. “This is your chance, Ellie. Prove yourself to me.”
I thought of Graham and my grandmother, locked up somewhere. I thought of Tuck, in mortal danger—even his deceptions couldn’t erase years of memories and friendship. And I thought of everyone who’d been kidnapped from the surrounding towns. All the innocent people who would be hurt if I didn’t find a way to make this right.
And I pulled the trigger.
I stared into the girl’s wild eyes. She hadn’t realized I had slid the gun to the side at the last second. She thought she’d seen the moment of her death, and that was enough to change her mind.
She whispered her surrender as Astrid spun me around to face her.
“Such a waste,” she spat. And oddly enough, I didn’t know who she meant—her friend for losing, or me for winning, then showing mercy. From the appraising look in her eye as she stared at both of us, it could have been either.
“You’ll take me with you?” My heart was leaping in my chest as I wiped the sweat from my palms.
“Did you really think you could fool me?” she demanded. “That I’d lead you right into your brother’s arms? Unlike you, I wasn’t born yesterday.” As she spoke, her gun slid out of its holster. “You’ve put yourself in a very bad position.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’d forgotten how young you are, in my excitement to find a brand-new baby Valkyrie I could train up in my image, like your grandmother did with me, until your boyfriend reminded me how dangerous your ignorance could be. I don’t have time to housebreak you. Not with Odin barking at my heels.”
The fire alarm stopped ringing. The only sound in the club was the thundering of my heart in my ears. I was staring straight down the barrel of a gun—all the way to Astrid’s red-lacquered fingernail coiled around the trigger. It had to be happening to someone else, someone in a movie I’d seen somewhere, a long, long time ago. Not to me.
I closed my eyes, no more than a blink, as pain exploded through my head, fire raging from my neck to my forehead.
Then everything went black.
13
The pain was the first thing that told me I might still be alive. There was no way a dead body could suffer like that, even in the farthest reaches of hell. My head was pounding and spinning, and nausea slammed into my stomach. My limbs were full of lead, pinning me to the cold concrete floor like a frog awaiting dissection. It took another few seconds to feel the cool fingers on my wrist, pressing down against my pulse.
Somehow I’d survived.
“I’ve never known Astrid to develop such a soft spot for anyone.” The voice was a ladder, and I climbed up it toward consciousness. Recognition flirted with the edges of my memory before hitting me all at once. Loki.
If Astrid had a soft spot for me, she certainly had an interesting way of showing it. At the moment, the only soft spot I knew of was on the back of my head, right along the hairline. It felt like I’d been clubbed by a brick—or, more accurately, by a gun.
I opened my eyes just enough to confirm what I already knew, that Astrid was gone. I could sense only one other presence in the building, and that dreaded voice had already given me a preview of who to expect. So I sat up slowly, letting the flashing strobe pour itself into my retinas. Even if Astrid hadn’t actually cracked my head open, it still felt like it.
I turned, scanning the dark corners for Loki. “I know you’re here.” My words echoed through the deserted club.
Sure enough, Loki stepped out of the shadows, chucking softly to himself. “You look disappointed, little Elsa. Did you really think she’d take you? That she’d fall for it? Astrid’s too smart for that. Fortunately, I factored that into our plan before I let you face her one last time.” He was walking in a slow circle around me, sizing me up in a way that made every nerve in my body stand at attention. And brace for an attack. “I didn’t spend all this time preparing you just to have you end up chained in a dungeon somewhere.”
“Preparing me for what?” I asked warily, trying not to shudder at the rest of what he’d said.
“Your shining moment,” he replied. “Your real mission—saving Graham is the smallest piece of it. Now that you’re a full Valkyrie, the real fun will begin. You can walk right up that second road winding through Skavøpoll. Lead an army up it, even.”
I didn’t like the sound of that one bit, or the way Loki was smirking at the thought of whatever he was plotting. I slipped my hand into my pocket, hoping Astrid hadn’t stripped me clean of weapons while I was unconscious.
Then the rest of Loki’s words trickled into my sluggish thoughts and were absorbed.
I had changed. I was a Valkyrie. Even if I’d failed at everything else, at least I had that one small victory to hold close to my heart. Along with the hope that my transformation might be enough to turn things around.
It was the strangest sort of irony, to suddenly know I was connected to the crackling energy binding the Valkyries together, and to know I’d have to use it against them. Because I sensed they didn’t want to follow Odin’s orders—they were bound by promises and traditions older than I could comprehend. The thought of standing against Astrid and the others made my heart ache almost as much Tuck’s revelations had. I turned away, toward the door.
Loki narrowed his eyes. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m leaving,” I told him. “I’m finishing this myself. My way. I don
’t want anything to do with your mission.”
“Our mission,” he corrected sharply. “You might be stronger now, you might even let your new power delude you into a false sense of confidence. But you’re still less than a newborn when it comes to the ways of your world. Our world. You don’t realize how fortunate you are to have me here. To guide you.”
“I don’t need you,” I said, shaking my head and taking a step back. “I don’t trust you. I never have.”
“Trust.” Loki’s features shifted until he was wearing the one smile I’d have trouble wiping off his face: Tuck’s. “Don’t waste your time questioning my motives when a far bigger betrayal has been under way for years.”
I took another step back, but Loki stood perfectly still. A statue in the middle of the deserted nightclub. “You don’t know anything about Tucker,” I said.
“Neither do you,” he replied. “You can’t trust anyone, Elsa. Least of all him.”
I turned away again, ready to leave Loki and his tricks behind me forever. Even if what he was saying was true, I knew he’d find a way to twist it into something that wasn’t. I needed time and space to process what had just happened, without Loki trying to interpret it for me.
“He’s a descendent of the Morrigan,” Loki said.
At that word, my blood turned to fire. I froze, hating myself even as I let Loki reel me back in. “What is that?” I asked.
“Who is that,” Loki corrected, enjoying my impatience far too much. “The Morrigan was a Valkyrie—a long time ago. Her adopted name is spelled out in those runes that your boyfriend drew on his skin—and that are emblazoned on those necklaces Hilda has been passing out like candy. I’m surprised Hilda can stand to be near it—it’s a physical manifestation of the heat of the Morrigan’s hatred of our dear Hilda and her Valkyries—and of her separation from the energy that binds the rest of you together. Then again, perhaps Hilda made use of it herself—to ward off Astrid and the others.”
“But I thought that symbol was protective—so Astrid’s power couldn’t work on whoever carried it.”
“It is,” Loki said. “If you’re not a Valkyrie—a full Valkyrie. You see, it stops the Valkyrie magic from reaching inside you. But for a Valkyrie, it has entirely different implications—blocking the magic would also keep you from accessing all that wonderful shared strength and power you’ll now be able to access. To Tucker and your brother, it represents protection.” He flashed a predatory grin that made me take a step back. “To you and your kind, it means utter destruction.”
“Why?” I demanded. “Why does she hate us so much? If the Morrigan was once a Valkyrie too, why would she create something that could hurt us?”
“She has more than ample reason to hold a grudge,” Loki purred. “You see, she committed an unpardonable infraction in the Valkyrie world. She fell in love with a human who was fated by Odin to die in battle. Valkyries select and gather the brave, but only Odin decides who lives and who dies. The Morrigan spared her lover anyway, forcing Hilda to kill him instead. Hilda then tried to destroy the Morrigan too. Unfortunately, killing a Valkyrie is every bit as hard as it looks, even for Hilda. It’s the energy that flows between you. Losing one is like losing a limb. My guess is the Morrigan’s escape wasn’t an accident, but she still swore revenge. A Valkyrie pledge is a powerful thing, as you well know. It becomes part of you. Runs in your blood. Mingles with the same energy and promises of sisterhood that make you strong. Invincible.”
I shrugged, trying to pretend I didn’t care, but Loki knew he had a rapt audience and had every intention of drawing his explanation out. To torment me.
“That’s what Astrid meant when she said she didn’t want to end up like Tucker’s ancestor. By disobeying Odin.”
“It seems you’re finally paying attention,” Loki said, giving me a slow, condescending round of applause. “When she left the Valkyries, Tucker’s ancestor went to Ireland and capitalized on local myths. It wasn’t just her name she changed, it was also her nature. The Celts were remarkably easy to impress, and soon she became the all-powerful goddess of war. The Morrigan. But it wasn’t until she fled to the Atlantic coast of France that she found her true power, tapping into magic that even I won’t dally with—it was strong enough to fuse fire into the Norse runes that spelled her name. And for centuries, that was enough to keep Hilda and the others away. Eventually, she had a family—went native, so to speak. An irony of ironies that your grandmother later followed her example. Tucker has her blood in his veins, diluted over the generations until it almost shouldn’t matter—you see how unremarkable it left him. Yet he was better prepared to meet his enemy than you were—he knew the old stories, handed down through his family, while you were raised in unconscionable ignorance. They remember the old ways and have guarded and cultivated their grudge through the generations, even if Hilda hasn’t done the same. You’re the granddaughter of his family’s greatest enemy. Tuck would sooner kill you than kiss you, darling. Although who can blame him for exploring both options.” Loki raised an eyebrow and gave me a smile that brought my knife to my hand.
“That can’t be true,” I said. “It doesn’t make any sense. The boy next door doesn’t turn out to be some weird villain from my grandmother’s impossibly bizarre past.” I spoke even as part of me was tabulating all the weird things I’d noticed about Tuck over the last few days. Like his unexpected familiarity with weapons and the fact that his senses at times seemed almost as sharp as mine.
Maybe his mother’s Celtic cult wasn’t so crazy after all.
“He may be American, but his mother is French.” Loki drew out each word, making the statement take painfully long.
“Lots of people are,” I said. “There’s a whole country full of French people.” Protest was futile, since Loki and I both knew I believed him. I finally let myself experience all the feelings I’d so carefully suppressed at Astrid’s earlier revelation. A pain started in my chest and radiated down my limbs, searing all the places where Tuck’s hands had been, where his lips had lingered. Every sweet thing he’d said. Here I’d been worried he wouldn’t want to date me in the event we both make it home in one piece, when all along he was keeping secrets so big, they could swallow our friendship whole.
My thoughts were muddled by the pounding in my brain and the way Loki was circling around me, battering and bludgeoning me with his words.
“You’re all alone. Even the other Valkyries don’t want you. You need me. I can protect you from your own lack of experience. No one else will do that. I can give so much, and I ask so little in return. Just one small thing.” While I had shrunk back, retreating in the face of his onslaught, Loki was growing larger and stronger, as if feeding on my pain.
But then I thought about Tuck, really thought about the way his smile filled me with light. And how he always smelled like sunshine and reckless summer afternoons. Even if sometimes he bulldozed through life and over people, there was something pure and sweet about him. Maybe he had some sort of ancient enemy bloodline—but I didn’t care. I loved him. My heart had made that decision ages ago. It had just taken my head a while to catch up.
“What do you want, Loki?” I demanded. “Once and for all—just tell me.”
“You.” His purring voice curled up inside my ear no matter how much I tried to ignore it. “Your continued obedience. Really, when this is all over, we should stop and appreciate my generosity. All the things I’ve done to show you how strong you’ll be with me to back you. Here you stand, Elsa, on the brink of disaster. Graham and Tucker are running out of time. And Hilda, well, her plan will only work if you set mine in motion. She’s always been rash. And predictable. Once again, I’ve swooped in and saved the day.”
“My grandmother had a plan?” I asked, a flip of excitement in my stomach. That there was a way out of this.
“Of course she did,” Loki murmured. “No one could capture her unless she wanted it to happen. I’m surprised Astrid fell for it—even if Hilda did make one of h
er Valkyries bleed quite a bit before surrendering. If I know Hilda, she thinks that from the inside she can win her Valkyries back. They were fiercely loyal to her once. What she forgot is that change requires a catalyst. Someone to bring things to a head. Force them to choose. A role you’ll play magnificently.”
“You’ve been driving me to this point all along,” I said. “You know that now I’ll do anything to get everyone back.”
“Anything? Including a direct assault on Odin?” Loki asked, cocking one eyebrow. “Outstanding. Now let me carry you one step further, since you’re a bit slow on the uptake. You need soldiers. One guess who would be all too willing to be led against Odin.” He motioned his hand vaguely toward the half-open alley door. The sound of slamming car doors and running feet echoed through the streets. People were coming.
I stared at him, horrified. “You mean those people—the kids who’ve been hunting Astrid? Margit and her friends?”
“Of course. They’re loyal, motivated, and entirely expendable. They, like you, will do anything to get their loved ones back. What they lack is a leader. And believe me, Elsa, no one can inspire courage like a Valkyrie. Now that you can cross over into Odin’s world, you can lead them there. You were made for this role. Created for this day.”
“Cut the crap, Loki,” I hissed. “I was dragged to this day. And if you think they’ll listen to me, you haven’t been paying attention. They hate me. I’m all alone, as you keep pointing out.”
“Things have changed,” Loki said, leaning his shoulder against the wall and kicking one ankle over the other. “I arranged a few wonderful scenes in which you performed brilliantly. Showcasing your strength. The way you fearlessly defy Astrid. The miles you’d crawl to stop her. The man you rescued in the stadium. Oh, they saw it all. Even tonight, they listened until I destroyed that radio transmitter. Couldn’t let them know about me. Once again, you were fantastic—brave and reckless in the face of heart-stopping danger. If you ever want to see Graham, Tuck, or your grandmother again, you’ll capitalize on their trust and lead them right up the road into Odin’s backyard.” He tipped his head back against the wall.
Valkyrie Rising Page 23
