by Lauren Dawes
He reached for her, and she smacked his hand away. Chiding him like a child, she said, ‘I am the one who does the touching.’ Frigg glanced over her shoulder. ‘Besides, we still have company.’
Fulla chose that moment to turn the taps off. The hollow echo of the last few drops of water falling from the faucet followed her out. Dropping into a low curtsy, her handmaiden excused herself from the room, her blue eyes never leaving Frigg’s face.
She knew Frigg would have no need of her to help her undress—not now Vali was with her.
Frigg sauntered away from her guard, making sure her hips swayed temptingly before demurely looking over her shoulder at him.
‘I can’t seem to take this dress off without some help, Vali.’
She walked into the bathroom, hearing him follow. With her back still to him, she sat on the edge of the claw-foot bath and gently played with the still-rippling surface of the water with her index finger. The diamonds frosting her fingers sparkled in the lights; the rainbow of colors ricocheting around the room.
When Vali’s hand wrapped around the back of her neck, the pressure was just enough to make her moan with pleasure. He didn’t say a word to her—he didn’t have to. She slid from the lip of the tub and dropped to her knees; her fingers already reaching for the zipper of his pants.
Vali shook his head, giving her pause.
Frowning, she asked, ‘Are you denying me this?’
He nodded. Then he smiled. Frigg couldn’t see what was so funny until he brought the blade of a knife in front of her eyes.
‘What is this?’ she demanded, attempting to get to her feet. Vali pressed on her neck, keeping her on her knees. She looked at her eyes in the reflection of the blade then they drifted up.
Vali’s face was melting away. His violet eyes gave way to pale green, his dark hair to blond. Somehow he gained another six inches and she was no longer staring at Vali. She was staring at Loki.
* * *
Loki bared his teeth at the queen of the Aesir. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated in fear. She knew what his appearance meant. It was death and pain and torture all wrapped up with a neat little bow.
‘Loki,’ she gasped.
‘Frigg. It’s been a long time,’ he drawled back casually. His voice was rough from being quiet for so long. Taking the appearance of her guard, and guaranteeing it would work, hinged on Loki remaining silent. He couldn’t match the other god’s voice well enough, and if his cover had been blown, his plan would have been compromised.
‘What are you doing here?’
He studied her face. She wasn’t stupid. Surely she’d already figured it out. ‘Guess.’
A small line appeared between her eyes before smoothing out again. She cleared her throat in that imperious way that only she could. ‘You’re here to kill me.’ She said the words without any inflection, without any emotion.
‘Yes.’
‘I was the one to free you. I was the one who released you from your torture.’ Her tone rose with each word, desperation filling her slowly but surely.
He smiled benignly. ‘I know.’
‘But why?’
He laughed at her. Her ego would never let her see what she didn’t want to believe. ‘Your husband took my wife away from me. So, I am taking his wife away from him.’
It was her turn to laugh this time. ‘Odin is only my husband by title. He does not hold my heart.’
He leered at her. ‘Nobody could hold your heart.’
She recoiled as if he’d slapped her. Her eyes dropped, but when she looked up again, fire crackled and burned in her glare. ‘I freed you,’ she repeated. ‘You owe me.’
‘I owe you nothing.’
With one swift slashing movement, the blade in his hand opened up the front of her throat. Frigg’s hands flew to the wound, her fingers clutching at the place where the blade had cleaved through her flesh. Blood swelled and oozed down her hands, the trail quickening until it dripped from her forearms.
The goddess fell to the side, coughing blood, spraying it in a perfect arc around her head; a bloody halo. With his foot on her shoulder, he rolled her over onto her back and straddled her hips.
Frigg was dragging in deep, desperate breaths, gurgling noises escaping her ruined throat. With his blade tip aligned perfectly over her heart, he smiled at her one last time and plunged the steel past the protection of her ribs, puncturing the chest cavity. With an abrupt twist and thrust, it cut into the muscle that was responsible for so much.
When at last she lay still, Loki grabbed one of her arms and hefted her onto his shoulder. He dumped her into the nice hot bath, the now pink water sloshing over the rim and spilling out all over on the floor.
Loki cursed and jumped out of the way. He couldn’t afford to have the others question him when he left this room. Sauntering over to the mirror, he looked at his reflection and began morphing his features into Vali’s once more.
When he was satisfied with his illusion, he stalked from the bathroom, walking out of the front door with the queen’s blood still drying on his skin.
Chapter Twenty-three
Korvain faded a block away from the address on River. He didn’t want to risk being seen by the god going after Kristy, and the fact that she was Eir’s twin made it all the more important to get her back. Pulling the shadows around him, he legged it over to the address.
The little red-bricked was the last house on the street before it narrowed into a small walkway, opening up onto a square hemmed in by other red-bricked houses that were so typical of Boston. He was closing in fast, seeing the silhouettes of people moving around behind the blinds.
Korvain stopped when the door of the house swung open without warning. Light spilled out from the hallway; its fingers stopping just short of revealing him with his foot on the bottom step.
He recognized the god standing on the top step with a sneer on his lips. It was the man who had tried to drug and kidnap Eir. The god looked around, his eyes tracking everything before disappearing back into the house only to reappear with a blonde-haired woman over his shoulder.
He was too late. Korvain shrugged the shadows from him just as the god faded from view. The guy had to be powerful to pull that kind of fade. Once any kind of weight was involved, fading was near impossible.
Korvain spat a nasty curse and entered the house. He couldn’t have saved Kristy, but he had to know if her cloak was still there. Deep down in his gut, he knew the god had taken it with him, but that didn’t stop him from checking. Hauling ass up the stairs, he checked every room up there before stalking around the bottom levels.
There was no box.
He hadn’t even found any blood, or loose feathers, which he could only take as a good sign. Flicking off the last of the lights, he faded back to the club to deliver the news to Bryn.
* * *
Bryn sat back in her office chair and closed her eyes. She’d come downstairs to clear her head, to stop herself from thinking about everything that had happened to her in the last few days. Glancing at the clock, she figured Korvain and Eir wouldn’t be too much longer either.
Sighing, she got started on the paperwork still begging for her attention.
The buzzer being hit repeatedly finally drew Bryn’s head up from the invoice she’d been looking over. Glancing sideways at the monitors, she saw Eir standing there. Bryn hit the buzzer and stepped into the hallway.
She felt rather than saw the other woman’s distress. It hit her like an unstoppable wave crashing against her.
‘Eir?’ she asked, starting toward the rear door. Gods, she looked like Hel. She listed to one side suddenly, catching herself against the wall. Bryn took her by the shoulder, throwing her arm around her waist, steadying the woman. Eir’s skin was bleached white, her body trembling finely. In one hand she held an unzipped sports bag stuffed with clothes, and in the other she clutched her ash box.
‘Tell me what happened.’ Bryn led her toward her office, afraid she would pass out
before they reached the elevator at the end of the hall. Taking the bag of clothes from her, Bryn pressed Eir’s shoulders, forcing her into the chair. Bryn stepped back to face her, her ass resting on the lip of her desk.
Eir still clutched her cloak box firmly to her chest. The trembling hadn’t gotten any better. If anything, it had gotten worse. Bryn pulled open her desk drawer and drew out a bottle of vodka.
‘Here. Drink this,’ Bryn told the other woman, unscrewing the cap and holding the bottle out to her. She expected her to refuse, but when Eir’s free hand wrapped around the glass, Bryn knew that whatever had happened was serious.
Eir placed the bottle to her lips and tipped. There was nothing graceful about what happened next. She choked, spitting the vodka back out all over herself. While she coughed, Bryn rubbed her back, murmuring softly to her.
When she finally settled, Bryn crouched beside the chair. ‘Tell me what happened.’
Eir’s royal blue and teal-ringed eyes met hers; wet and red. ‘Sigrun and Astrid...are...’
Fresh tears welled; Eir’s body seemed to collapse under the weight of them. Her head dropped, her blonde hair raining down over her shoulders to hide her face. Bryn had a pretty good idea what the next word out of her mouth was going to be. Her spine stiffened and she stood up to pace. That was the only way she would be able to work off the angry energy battering around her body.
‘They’re dead, aren’t they?’ Bryn’s hands had balled into tight fists. ‘Eir? Tell me.’
Eir nodded slowly, her blonde hair barely moving.
Bryn blinked, seeing red dots. Anger was not a descriptive enough word for how she was feeling. ‘Where’s Korvain?’
‘He—’ she hiccupped. ‘He went to check on Kristy. He told—’ Hiccup. ‘He told me to come back here.’
At least he did one thing right tonight.
‘He told me to give you these,’ Eir said in a shaky voice. Bryn looked down at what Eir was offering and staggered back a step, her hand over her mouth.
Eir lowered her eyes and retracted her hand slowly, her fingers curling over the two bloody feathers lying against her palm. Bryn reached across her desk and picked up her phone.
The thing rang for a second before Korvain’s silky voice filled her ear. ‘Bryn.’
Bryn squeezed her eyes shut, keeping the tears teetering there from falling. ‘Where are you?’ she demanded, placing the anger filling her into her voice.
‘The back door.’
Her eyes ratcheted to the CCTV monitor. Korvain’s imposing form seemed to step from the shadows themselves. She buzzed him in and hung up the phone. Looking at Eir, she said, ‘Go upstairs now. We’ll figure out a safe place to put your cloak when I come up in a minute.’
Eir nodded and stood up unsteadily. Bryn watched her walk toward the elevator. With her bag on one shoulder, she leaned to one side looking like she would topple over.
When the elevator door had slid shut, Bryn turned and ran directly into something hard. Throwing her palms up, she dug her fingers into Korvain’s hard, warm chest and felt herself beginning to fall apart. She looked into his onyx eyes, wondering—not for the first time—what it was with him that made her unravel so spectacularly.
His strong fingers cinched shut around her upper arms, his thumbs stroking softly. ‘Bryn, I’m—’
She pulled away from his body angrily. ‘Don’t say it! Don’t you dare say you’re sorry!’ she screamed. She marched back into her office, snagging the bottle of 42 from where Eir had left it. She took a deep pull, feeling it burn down her throat and into her chest. Roughly, she wiped the back of her hand over her mouth, ignoring the shake.
Korvain kicked the door shut behind him, resting against it casually with his arms lightly folded over his muscular chest. Bryn had the strangest urge to be folded up and held in those arms, but she pushed the feeling away.
‘Eir told you then?’ he asked quietly.
‘Yeah, she told me. What happened? Couldn’t you have saved them?’ Bryn couldn’t stop the sting in her voice. She was just so angry. With herself. With Odin.
He pushed off the door and stalked toward her. His huge body moved with a feline grace that seemed impossible to achieve with the combination of his height and bulk. But somehow he did. He was within touching distance now, but he kept his hands to himself. Bastard. ‘When we got there they were already dead—their bodies already taken.’
She finally made herself look him in the face. The usual rough, I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude was gone. Instead, there was compassion on his hard face. This only pissed her off further. She didn’t need his pity. She needed him to protect her Valkyries.
In one long stride, she was in front of him, her palm raised. Korvain caught her wrist before the slap to his cheek could be landed. Anger bubbled and she tried the other hand. He caught that too, holding her arms above her head.
Her pulse roared to life. ‘Let me go,’ she hissed, struggling. Korvain pulled her into the heat of his body, trapping her against him. Pushing off, Bryn tried to land a kick somewhere on his body. She missed, being pushed up against the wall instead.
With her hands still held above her head, she had no choice but to breathe in his scent, to drink in the sight of him. Her body betrayed her first, heating up. Her heart rate increased and liquid heat pooled between her legs. What he did to her in the dream roared to the front of her mind, stunning her by how badly she wanted to have his hands on more of her body. Now.
Korvain’s gaze intensified, zeroing in on her throat. She whimpered when he lowered his head to her collarbone, his lips soft and warm and addictive. His fingers relaxed around her wrists and her fingers found their way to the back of his head, sliding through his short hair, massaging his scalp.
He seemed to purr at the contact, his hips pressing up against hers. She gasped when his erection pushed against her opening before he pulled away with a hiss. He finally settled against her stomach. She was struck by how he felt against her. It was exactly how he’d felt in the dreams.
‘I know you’re angry,’ he murmured, his velvet-soft lips brushing against her collarbone as he spoke. She shuddered. ‘But there was nothing I could have done. The god faded before I’d even had the chance to react.’
He pulled back and looked into her eyes.
‘There is something else though.’
Her eyes narrowed to slits, and even though she tried to push him away, he kept her pinned against the wall with his hips. ‘I went to Kristy’s house straight after I sent Eir away. I saw him. He had Kristy over his shoulder. She looked unharmed—probably just drugged out like Eir had been. He faded before I could do anything to save Kristy.’
‘No, no, no!’ Bryn started pounding on his chest, and he let her. He took everything she gave him. ‘You bastard!’ she shrieked over and over again until her voice was hoarse. When she finally slumped against his chest with her forehead pressed between his collarbones, he started stroking her back, her hair, soothing her despite everything she’d done and said to him.
‘Shhh,’ he soothed. ‘He kept her alive. That has to mean something, right?’
‘Not for long,’ she replied, her voice muffled between his pecks.
‘Don’t think that way,’ he said; an edge to his voice. ‘What’s different with Kristy?’ he asked after a moment.
‘Nothing. Nothing is different. He’s going to pluck the feathers from her cloak and kill her. It’s the same.’ Defeat had taken over, her voice a mirror of her deepest fears reflected onto the surface.
‘No, Bryn, it’s not.’ His voice rumbled through his chest, against her ear. ‘Think about it. Every other kill has happened on site. This time he took Kristy away. Why?’
She leaned back to look at him. He was right. This was different. Her heart bounced into her throat. ‘Gods, he’s...he’s going to negotiate.’
Korvain nodded. ‘He knows he can’t get the rest of you. This place is like Fort Knox. So he has to draw you out.’
The
puzzle pieces were falling into place. ‘But how will we know?’
‘He’ll probably call the last dialed person on her phone,’ Korvain suggested. Bryn didn’t want to think about how he knew that. ‘Which would mean...’
Their eyes met. Korvain was out the door first. He made it to the elevator before Bryn, punching the button like he was going to send it through the wall. Anger writhed like a snake beneath Bryn’s skin. She wanted to punch the wall, and when she glanced at Korvain she could see he wanted to do the same thing. There was a dangerous glint in his dark eyes that set the fine hairs at the base of her neck on end.
The ride up was torturous. They didn’t say a word to each other, but Bryn could feel Korvain’s malice dripping from him. She was sure he wanted to kill someone.
When the elevator doors opened, he let her take the lead. She nodded her acknowledgement and made her way to her apartment door. Eir was sitting on her love seat looking shell-shocked. Held loosely in her hands was her phone. Bryn’s stomach dropped.
‘Eir?’ The Valkyrie looked up at her slowly. ‘Eir? What’s wrong?’
Bryn’s eyes fell to her white-knuckle grip.
‘I just...listened to a voicemail I had. It was from Krist.’
Gods. ‘What did it say?’
Eir’s eyes began to water again, the first tear escaping down her cheek slowly. ‘She was excited we were going to catch a movie tomorrow night.’
The knot in Bryn’s stomach loosened slightly. The god hadn’t called yet, but she knew in her gut it would only be a matter of time.
Chapter Twenty-four
The doorbell to Odin’s house rang, the sound booming and echoing around the marble he chose to surround himself with. Having done away with servants a century ago, he extricated himself from the powder blue Louis XV armchair in his formal living room and walked to the door.
He was wearing his favorite smoking jacket and a pair of soft loafers that hushed quietly across all that stone. He reached out for the door’s handle carefully, his depth perception still shot after losing his right eye.
