by Lauren Dawes
Adrian’s eyes were suddenly on fire and Korvain knew.
‘Fuck,’ he cursed again, rubbing both of his palms over the top of his head while his fingers remained laced together. ‘Taer?’ he asked, just to torture himself further.
Adrian nodded his head up and down jerkily. ‘He said he’d make her the guild whore.’
‘Motherfucker.’
‘After he’d had his fill of her.’ Adrian’s words came out from between gritted teeth. Korvain wanted to punch something repeatedly—namely Darrion—for dragging Tay into this situation.
And he knew, he knew, he could have prevented it all by simply killing Bryn.
Gods, he felt sick to his stomach even thinking about it.
‘What am I supposed to do, Korvain? I don’t want to kill you, but I can’t let Darrion have my little sis either.’
Korvain laughed at the other Mare. ‘What makes you think you could have succeeded in killing me anyway?’
This made Adrian grin. ‘Call it wishful thinking.’ He sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. ‘Gods, there has to be a way out of this,’ he announced.
When the idea struck Korvain, he let it sit there at the front of his mind for a moment—not touching it yet—just staring at it, contemplating it.
‘Any ideas?’ Adrian asked, carving grooves into the sparring mats beneath his feet.
‘Maybe, but I don’t know how we could do it.’ Killing Darrion seemed to be the most logical thing to do, but Korvain could see at least two potential problems already.
Problem One: Korvain knew he could resist the compulsion thrown down by Darrion. That wasn’t the problem. When the tattoos were inked, they swore an oath not to attempt to take their master’s life. Every Walker in the guild metaphysically had their hands tied; therefore, neither Korvain nor Adrian nor any other Walker in their guild could kill Darrion.
Problem Two: Whoever did kill him would become the new guild master. Whoever killed him would inherit all the assassins and all the territory Darrion had amassed—and Darrion had amassed a fuckload since taking over nearly five hundred years ago.
Having a guild master that powerful and well-stocked was dangerous. Darrion might have sociopathic tendencies, but he knew his limitations. He was intelligent. He understood how guilds worked—probably because he had been in one since he was only a child.
‘What’s going through that head of yours, my brother?’
Korvain looked at his best friend and smiled. ‘Trying to figure out how to kill Darrion.’
Chapter Twenty-eight
Eir was sitting on the couch in the living room, trying to figure out a way to get Kristy. Bryn had said she’d had a headache and would try to sleep it off before Loki called back, leaving Eir to let the guilt eat at her.
Eir envied Bryn. She wished she could have forced her brain to stop so she could get some rest, but it didn’t work that way. Hearing her twin’s panic-stricken voice coming through on the other end of the call lapped her head, cutting deeper and deeper with each revolution.
She knew Bryn would take the responsibility for getting her back, but Eir couldn’t allow it. How could she when Kristy was her sister, her twin? She couldn’t ask Bryn to risk her life.
She had given up enough already.
So, Eir did the only thing she could while they waited. She paced the living room floor because it would be impossible to sleep knowing Kristy was suffering. Anxiety stretched out inside her, settling in for the long haul even though her body cried out for rest.
In fact, the only way she could sleep now was if she had some anti-anxiety drugs to calm her down. Eir paused mid-step, a plan forming in her mind. She let out a breath and started toward her bedroom, pausing at Bryn’s, listening through the door for movement.
Satisfied the other Valkyrie wouldn’t be waking anytime soon, Eir closed her bedroom door behind her and began rifling through the hastily packed bag she had brought with her. Pulling nearly all of the contents out, she finally found what she was looking for.
She pulled the bottle of Valium with her name written on the label all the way out, staring at it. She didn’t use the drug often—just when she’d worked a particularly horrible shift and her palms were bothering her. It took a lot of energy to heal people and the knock on effect it then had on her was insomnia.
Deciding it was for the best, Eir walked back out into the kitchen to find a spoon when a shrill buzzing interrupted her thoughts. Near the door there was a video screen next to a small numerical pad. Slipping the spoon into her cardigan pocket, she walked over to the screen. Looking the system over, she pressed a button with a green camera on it and the screen lit up.
It showed a shot of Odin from above, looking down at the backdoor. Biting her lip, she pressed another button which unlocked the door and went down to meet him. Riding down in the elevator, Eir’s stomach flipped nervously. What was she going to say to him? What could he possibly have to say to her?
The doors opened slowly, letting Eir see that Odin was standing just inside the closed door. Eir hadn’t seen the All-Father since their exodus nearly one hundred years ago. She was used to seeing him all powerful—perfect clothes, perfect face, perfect composure—but he was dressed in nothing more than a smoking jacket and soft slippers.
‘All-Father?’ she asked softly, her arms wrapping around her stomach.
‘Eir?’ he asked, his eyes a little unfocused. ‘What are you doing here?’
She hugged herself a little tighter. ‘Bryn invited me to stay.’
Did he know about the abduction attempt?
Did Bryn keep in regular contact with him?
‘I need to see Bryn,’ he eventually said.
‘Okay.’ She turned back around to lead him down the hall, feeling his power wash over her. Even after all these years and after the Fall, he still commanded so much force over her body.
As soon as the doors of the elevator slid shut, a musty, kind of metallic scent filled the space. She looked at Odin from the corner of her eye, noting the way his shoulders hung.
The doors opened slowly onto the upper levels. Odin held out his arm to allow her to go first, and she quickly stepped out of the confining space. Odin followed at her back, but even his movements seemed sluggish.
‘I’ll go wake Bryn,’ she murmured.
‘No,’ he said softly. ‘Please. I’ll do it.’
Eir didn’t know whether that was such a good idea, but she shrugged and pointed out Bryn’s door. Retreating back to her room, Eir sat down in the chair and popped the lid on the bottle of Valium. With shaking hands, she pulled out six tablets and placed them on the desk. With the back of the spoon she’d taken from the kitchen, she began crushing the circular blue tablets into a fine powder.
Admittedly, she didn’t know how many it would take to render Bryn unconscious, so she was erring on the side of more rather than less. Eir felt the tears sitting in the corners of her eyes as she worked. She didn’t want to do this to her friend, but she really had no other choice. In fact, every bone in her healing body was screaming at her to stop and think about her actions, but she shoved away all the doubts and focused on her twin.
She’d decided she would drug Bryn after Loki called back with the specifics of where to meet for the exchange. Eir would take her cloak and give herself up if her sister was freed. If that didn’t work, well, she didn’t want to think about what would happen.
* * *
Bryn sucked in a deep breath, waking suddenly. She blinked, scrubbing a hand down her face to wake herself up. When she was finally able to focus on the room, her eyes narrowed at the figure standing near the door.
‘Fuck! How did you get in here?’ she snapped, directing the question at the shadowy figure.
Odin stepped forward, palms outstretched like he was pleading with her.
‘Who let you in here?’ she snarled again, throwing her legs over the side of the bed, her toes gripping into the carpet. Still Odin remained silent. Well, this wa
s new. She peered at him, trying to discern shadow from his tailored suit. It looked as if his crisp white shirt was covered in black stains.
‘Odin?’ she croaked.
The All-Father fell to his knees, a sob escaping his throat. In the same instant, Bryn went to him. Now that she was closer, she could see he wasn’t in a suit, but a smoking jacket and the black stains were actually red.
Blood.
Her All-Father’s shoulders had dropped, hunching his tall body over. His frame shook in an attempt to hold back the tide of grief he was feeling—Bryn knew that now. He was grieving.
Placing a hand on his shoulder gently, she bit her lip and shook her head. This was the first time she had allowed herself to touch him—to feel anything for him—in nearly one hundred years. ‘Tell me what’s happened.’
‘Frigg is dead.’ He said the words so calmly, she didn’t know whether he was telling the truth, or lying to her in order to get his way. She looked down at him, seeing the blood, knowing he couldn’t possibly lie about that. Odin was nothing if not devoted and completely faithful to his wife even if it was misguided.
‘What happened?’ Her voice was firmer that time. Odin blinked up at her, his throat working.
‘I have failed you,’ he croaked.
‘No shit,’ she muttered. Blowing out a frustrated breath, she added, ‘I know Loki’s behind it.’
For the first time ever, Odin actually looked at her with awe in his eyes. ‘How do you know?’
She sat back on her heels. ‘He has Kristy. He called to negotiate with me.’
‘He did?’
Bryn nodded. ‘The only thing I don’t understand is why. Why does he want me? And why is he targeting us?’
Odin had seemed to have recovered some of his usual snideness with the revelation that Bryn already knew about Loki. The All-Father shook his head.
‘He has...reasons...I refuse to get into with you.’
She frowned. ‘You know why he’s doing this then?’
Odin nodded; a short, sharp motion, but offered up no further explanation.
‘And you’re not going to tell me? Even though Kristy’s life hangs in the balance?’ she asked incredulously. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ Bryn couldn’t believe how selfish he was being, how self-centered. ‘Why are you so desperate to get me back by your side? What’s in it for you?’
‘I only wish to keep you safe,’ he explained, looking unrepentant.
‘The others be damned?! Is that it?’
‘It is the way it has to be.’
Bryn stood up and walked away from the man she had considered her father for nearly one thousand years. ‘I can’t believe how callous you’re being.’
His eyes alighted on her face, the obsidian orb sitting in his right eye cold. ‘I’m being realistic. Their lives are inconsequential. I only wished to keep one of you safe, and that’s you, Bryn.’
Bryn threw her hands over her ears. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She truly didn’t know Odin.
‘Get out.’
‘Bryn, please listen to me,’ Odin begged.
‘Odin, get out of here before I do something I’ll regret.’ Her finger was twitching for her sword, but so help her, if she drew the steel she would use it on Odin. She would strike him down right there where he kneeled.
Chapter Twenty-nine
The front door of Bryn’s apartment slammed shut, shaking Eir’s concentration. Odin must have left, which meant Bryn must have been awake. She had just gone back to crushing the pills when the shrill sound of her phone ringing down the hallway lifted her head from her clandestine work and made her heart pound. Quickly and carefully, she covered her desktop with a piece of paper and yanked open the door.
Bryn was already ahead of her, reaching for the phone sitting on the end of the kitchen counter. This was the phone call they’d been waiting for. Bryn picked it up and hit a button to put it on speaker phone.
‘Yeah?’
‘Brynhildr, so nice to hear from you,’ Loki purred on the other end of the line. Eir couldn’t stop the shiver that rode her spine. Even before she’d joined the ranks of Odin’s army, Loki had been the one god she had avoided at all costs.
‘Where is Kristy? I want to speak to her,’ she demanded.
There was a muffled sound like a hand over the receiver then Kristy’s voice came out the other end.
‘Bryn?’ she whispered hoarsely.
‘I’m here, and so is your sister,’ Bryn replied, her fingers curling around the edge of the counter.
‘Eir is there?’
‘Kristy,’ Eir croaked. Pain blazed through her palm. When she looked down, she saw four half-moon gouges, blood welling slowly. ‘We’re going to get you—’
Loki cut off her words by tutting into the phone. ‘Now, now, don’t get her hopes up too high. I’m not even sure Bryn is going to do what I want her to.’
Eir looked at Bryn, saw her face cloud with unimaginable anger. ‘Just tell me where and when.’ She bit the words off, spitting them out.
Loki laughed, the sound grating on Eir’s nerves. She had already healed the damage to her palm, but had drawn more blood by pulling the same trick. She whimpered and looked at Bryn.
‘In six hours from now, the sun will begin to set. I want you to come to my hotel room with your feather cloak. I will set Kristy free if you are willing to replace her.’
Eir clutched as Bryn’s arm desperately. ‘Bryn, no. You can’t. Let me go,’ she pleaded. Bryn’s eyes locked on Eir and she knew the woman had made up her mind.
‘I don’t want anyone else. I only want Bryn,’ Loki drawled. ‘If she comes tonight, I will stop going after the others. Bryn was the one I really wanted all along.’
Tears leaked from Eir’s eyes. ‘Please,’ she begged, shaking her head. ‘You don’t have to do this.’
Bryn turned her back on Eir. ‘Deal,’ she replied, her voice sounding hollow.
Eir wept as Loki gave them the name of his hotel. ‘I’ll meet you in the lobby at dusk.’
‘Fine,’ Bryn replied through gritted teeth.
‘And Bryn? Don’t forget your cloak otherwise we have no deal.’
Bryn spat a nasty curse and hung up. Eir’s head had dropped in defeat, her body feeling like lead. Bryn gently touched the top of her shoulder.
‘You should get some sleep.’
Eir looked up into the other woman’s eyes. ‘What makes you think I’ll be able to sleep now? You shouldn’t be doing this Bryn. Please. Let me go.’
She shook her head, her braid rasping against her back. ‘You heard Loki. He wants me.’ She let out a deep breath. ‘Odin got us into this mess, but I’m going to get us out of it. I’m going to take a shower and then I’m going to have a stiff drink.’
This was Eir’s only opportunity. ‘I’ll get the drink ready for you then. Go take a shower.’
Bryn’s gaze raked hers, eyes narrowed to slits, but she sighed heavily and started down the hall.
With her bedroom door closed, Eir returned to her room with the bottle of vodka Bryn kept in her freezer. Creating a funnel with a sheet of paper, Eir tipped the crushed Valium tablets into the vodka bottle and swirled it around a little.
She took it back into the kitchen and found a clean tumbler. She filled it up with the laced vodka and left it on the counter for Bryn to find.
* * *
Bryn let the scalding hot water spill over her head, soaking her hair completely. Her shoulders were tight, the muscles in her neck even tighter. Odin’s words were lapping her head, the horrible truth she now knew gnawing at her.
She couldn’t turn back time and bring her Valkyries back to life again, but she could prevent any more from being killed. She had to do this. Stopping the water, Bryn wrapped her wet hair in one towel, and her body in another.
Stepping out of her private bathroom, the room felt cold around her. But then again, that may have had something to do with the fact she was willingly walking to her ow
n death by agreeing to the trade. Her spine stiffened. She would do it though. She would do it for her girls. She would take a stand against Odin’s self-serving agenda and sacrifice herself.
Bryn unwound the towel from her head and ran her fingers through her damp hair. She finger-combed it all together then quickly braided it down over her shoulder. She pulled on a pair of black jeans and a black tank.
Running her hand over the tattoo on the side of her neck, she felt her golden sword fill her hand; molding into the exact grip of her palm, warming under the heat of her skin. The sword had been given to her by Odin a few weeks after she’d entered his great hall in Asgard. He’d said it was specially calibrated only to her touch. If someone else were to take the hilt, they would simply die.
She knew it wasn’t a lie. She’d seen it happen with her own eyes. With a sigh, she willed it away and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her features were drawn like she hadn’t been getting enough sleep, but that was probably because she wasn’t getting enough sleep. She’d been too worried about Odin and Eir and Kristy and Korvain to worry too much about resting her body and mind.
Leaving her room, she beelined for the kitchen. A glass of 42 sat on the counter next to the sweating bottle. Eir must have known she wouldn’t have stopped at just one. Grabbing the glass and the bottle, she slumped down into the sofa and brought the glass to her lips.
The icy liquid hit her tongue, the back of her throat. It slid down like a lover’s caress, warming her chest and setting her frayed nerves at ease. Glancing at the clock above the TV in the corner, Bryn could see she still had another five and a half hours to wait until she could pull Kristy out of that hellhole.
Bryn took another mouthful of vodka, her head leaning back to rest on the back of the sofa. The waiting was killing her. She drained the rest of her glass and poured herself another, filling the tumbler up to the two-thirds mark. She threw that back, too, reaching for the bottle to pour one more when the bottle slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor.
