“No.”
My eyes flashed to his. I hated this option worse than any other. “Who did?”
His soft green eyes darkened. “I will answer your question on one condition.”
My heart jumped. “Okay.”
Liam lifted a palm to my cheek. Watching me closely, he slid his other hand to the back of my neck, cupping my head and bringing me closer in the warm salt water. He brushed his thumb over my lips and lifted my chin with his fingers. “Still okay?”
I nodded, hoping I wouldn’t forget how to swim or breathe.
His lips whispered against mine with feather light pressure, testing me.
The dusting of his lips ignited something inside me and worry washed away. I inclined my chin, pressing my mouth to his, savoring the electricity flowing through my veins. Liam’s lips parted. “And now?”
I draped my arms over his broad shoulders and curled my fingers into his hair. “Still fine.”
Our bodies touched from chests to thighs. Heat radiated in the spaces where our skin met and parted in the still water. His shirt suddenly felt unnecessary over my borrowed suit. Our legs slid over each other in rhythm. As much time as I spent swimming, I’d never kissed like this, alone in a pool, treading to keep my body afloat while my heart and mind soared in the atmosphere.
Liam’s chest rumbled, vibrating mine. The feral sound set me on fire. I deepened the kiss, angling myself to him, and he accepted. Our tongues slid against one another in a slow, easy dance, caressing in ways that should’ve been unfamiliar but weren’t. Liam’s kiss had power I’d never known existed. Maybe this was what people meant when they talked about passion. He released my head and supported my back and bottom instead. I stopped kicking and wrapped my legs around his waist. His lips slid down my neck, to my collarbone, and my head fell back. Every fiber of my body was one with the water, as if I’d melted under his touch.
He worked his way across my collarbone with gentle kisses. Liam kept us afloat, while I grabbed and stroked the taunt muscles of his back and arms, hungry to explore more than I should. When his lips reached mine again, he pulled away slightly. His green eyes glowed in the dim lighting.
“Callie.”
“Your eyes.” I held his face in my hands, brushing the corners of his eyelids with my thumbs.
“Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not.” I wasn’t.
“I had to do that once before you go.”
Do what? Kiss me? If he thought he could kiss me like that just once, he was nuts.
I touched my swollen lips with my fingertips. “I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what’s wrong with your eyes.”
“You’re familiar with the statue in our cemetery?” Not what I’d expected.
“Yes.” I nodded, staring into his eyes as the glow settled into a more human shade of green “Nike. Your eyes.” I lifted a hand, gesturing to the absent glow.
“I know.” He squeezed my hand in the air between us. “In a minute. Nike. What do you know of her?”
“She’s the goddess of victory. She lives with Zeus. Not much more.”
“Correct. Nike had three siblings. Two brothers, Kratos and Zelus, and a sister, Bia. They represented strength, zeal and force in that order. Nike didn’t have children, but her siblings had relationships with many humans. Can we sit?”
Embarrassed and hyper-aware of how my body clung to his, I untangled my legs and glided to the pool’s edge. Liam handed me an enormous white towel then spent a ridiculous amount of time drying off before sitting with me poolside.
“Demigods,” I prompted, knotting my fingertips into the plush towel on my lap. Embarrassment for tying my body around his dissipated under the direction of his conversation. Never had I stopped making out to discuss anything more than why I wasn’t ready to finish what I’d started. Ironically, it was also the first time I was ready, which made no sense. At all. Except that my unseemly behavior fit like a puzzle piece into the night I’d had.
Liam nodded. “Demigods are unpredictable, especially these. Sons of Strength, Force and Zeal are what your history books call Vikings. They’re driven by primal urges. Their only goal in life is to conquer. They desire the titles of strongest, fastest, and richest. They seek competition like fuel for their souls. Many are unkind and destructive in how they go about satisfying their needs.”
I dropped my gaze to his chest. “The runes have something to do with this?”
“Runes mark the lineage.”
Heat rose in my chest, blooming over my neck and cheeks. “You.”
He stretched one long finger out, brushing it against the back of my hand. “We are charged with locating new Vikings as they emerge.” He clamped his mouth shut and scrutinized me.
He was a demigod. Shivers coursed through me until my teeth chattered. Liam pressed a folded white towel into my lap and I cradled it to my chest. “Why would you tell me this?” Something so private. Something so insane.
“I want to and I rarely get the opportunity to do what I want anymore.” He shot me a wolfish grin.
My heart thundered erratically. I dropped my gaze to refocus my thoughts. “You asked about Justin. Is he fast, strong, and quick-tempered?” Sickness coiled my tummy. “Why?”
“We were given reason to believe Justin might be one of us. We can’t know for sure. Not yet.”
“Go on.”
Liam licked his lips, clearly debating what he’d say next. The set of his jaw hardened. Determination, or perhaps, resolve, squared his shoulders. This was what I’d waited for. Whatever came next. I pulled in a long breath.
“My brothers and I are guides. Watchers. When a Viking is born, he requires guidance. We seek them out to advise them. They need facts to make the best decisions about how they will handle their true nature. We answer questions and offer them protection while they make decisions. Their choices are binding and often permanent.”
“You came here for Justin.” A tiny part of me wished he’d come for me. Clearly, I wasn’t in a good place mentally.
“We followed a tip to this place seeking the new Viking. We’re burdened with keeping the balance on Earth by reaching new members before they choose a clan. Our name, Hale, is Norse. It translates for you as hero.”
“You and Oliver?”
“Yes. My brothers and I. Oliver, Mason and others before them. The man you read about online wasn’t my father. He was simply older than us and better positioned as father than brother to the public.”
I lay back on the cool tile floor, staring into the high glass ceiling. “Mason is the man with your mother. He pretends to be what? Your stepdad?”
“Yes. Sometimes. Other times, our uncle. I promise you, I’m not insane, nor am I fabricating any of this.”
“Vikings.” The word plucked at a memory. “I believe you.”
“You do?” Liam lay beside me, propped on one elbow. “This is the part where you run away and call the police.”
I laughed without humor. “It’s not.” His explanation settled in my soul, someplace deep I didn’t think about but knew was there. The way I knew there was life after death, in the stars or under the sea. Mentioning the police reminded me of Kristy. “Kristy was attacked after your party. Could one of your brothers be responsible?” He’d just said Vikings were violent, hadn’t he? My stomach knotted.
He tensed, working his jaw side to side. “We didn’t do that. We were framed.”
“Like the other girls online.”
“Yes.”
“Explain.” I braced my head in one palm and matched Liam’s position, facing him on the floor of the pool house. I was all in. His words didn’t feel fresh or crazy. They felt like a story told to me in childhood, which I’d forgotten for a while and was presented with again. The truth of it tingled in my spine. Now, I needed facts. I believed unequivocally. The words he spoke resonated, clinging to my fibers and sealing holes in my fabric I didn’t know existed.
&nbs
p; Liam’s free hand turned in the air before him, animating him in a new way. “Vikings rarely meddle with humans. There’s no point to the challenge, so they attack one another, claiming their victories, and seizing their heirs and fortunes.” He spoke quickly. His hand moved in time with the rapid-fire details.
Seizing heirs and fortunes. “That’s the reason your family’s so rich.”
He nodded. “I’m still waiting for you to decide I’m insane and leave. I won’t bother you more than absolutely necessary if you do. You have my word.”
I shook my head. I could no sooner leave than drown in the pool before me. Impossible. Unthinkable. “You, Oliver and Mason are Watchers? Are you all descendants? Are the others? Is Justin?”
“We are the oldest. The other Vikings, new emergents, are further down the family tree. Reincarnates of our great-grandchildren, that sort of thing.” He shrugged. “It’s in the blood. All males in the lineage carry the potential to become one of us. Not all will. It’s a very frustrating and imperfect system.”
“Why?” I was lost in the details, sorting and organizing the information into piles I understood and things I’d have to examine later.
“We need to reach every new Viking. There are fewer today than ever before and the clans are restless. The largest clan, the Stians, has made plans to overthrow all who do not side with them. In the process, they’ve weakened many other clans and eliminated most of my family. Without the Guides to preserve the balance, Earth is ruined. The Vikings who remain will be claimed by the Stians, and seek the destruction of everything and everyone who doesn’t call them King. It will be a very violent apocalypse.”
“You think the Stians came for Justin?”
Sadness coated his voice. “I don’t know. There are so few Guides now. Our response is slower and at times, uncertain. I’m unsure if The Fates sent us for a new Viking, which might join us and strengthen our side, or if they sent us into peril, knowing the Stians were here. The Fates are sometimes cruel.”
“How few are the Guides?”
“Oliver, Mason and I.”
“Three?” Alarm pierced my tone, startling us. “Only three Guides? How many were there before?”
“Originally twelve. We lost several very quickly, before we realized the Stians’ plan to eliminate us wholly. Now we migrate. Never staying too long in one place and exploring all areas where a new Viking is suspected to come. We need to increase our number, so we’re always hoping to find more Guides.”
“You should tell him. Justin is good and honorable. He’d make the right choice.”
“He won’t understand until the time is here.”
“But I understand.”
Liam examined me again with furrowed brows, a look I’d come to expect and appreciate. “Why is that?”
Before I could answer, his hand tangled into my hair, pulling me to him, and his lips found mine once more.
Chapter 12
Liam walked me home at two in the morning and Chester met us at the door pleading for a walk. Liam took his leash and we talked until even the adrenaline rush of a night spent kissing Liam Hale and learning about Vikings couldn’t keep me awake. I fell into bed at sunrise, thinking of all I’d done and learned in a few short hours.
“Callie?” Mom rapped her knuckles against my door, interrupting my dream of an epic battle bathed in green light.
I dragged a pillow over my face. “Ugh.” In the dream, I was powerful. In my bed, I was groggy.
“I thought you were staying at Allison’s. You missed breakfast.” Mom sat on the edge of my bed. Tension rolled off her, electrifying the air between us. Was I busted? Had someone seen me getting home at dawn and called her at work? Stupid small towns.
“I got sick.” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and cuddled deeper into the blanket. No way to sleep with her on my bed acting weird. I thought she’d be happy to find me at home this morning. She’d seemed worried when I said I wanted to stay with Allison after the party.
“What do you mean? Sick how?” She pulled the pillow away from my face and pressed her hands all over me.
“Ah! What are you doing?”
“Did you drink? You promised you wouldn’t. How do you feel now? Callie, answer me!”
I popped my eyes open. Mom and I didn’t do yelling. I sat, ready to argue, but the anger died on my tongue. Tears spilled over Mom’s lids. She pulled me against her chest and sobbed.
“Mom?” I hugged her back. “What happened?” I pushed thick brown hair away from her face and mine. Our hair color was so similar. No one ever suspected I wasn’t hers. Those who knew never mentioned it. Why would they? Strangers never had a clue. I hugged her tighter.
Mom blew out a long breath. “Kristy Hines is dead. She came in again last night all beat up. She didn’t make it and she’s not the first one this month. Honey”—she pulled me away and gripped my shoulders gently—“I don’t want you at any more parties for a while. Not until they figure out what’s happening to young women around here.”
My mind blanked. Kristy Hines was dead. Kristy from homeroom. Dead? The words sounded like a bad joke where I missed the punch line. Seventeen year olds didn’t die in Zoar. Ninety-seven year olds died in Zoar. My head hurt.
Death. Death. Death.
The internal nudging I’d struggled with all night burst through my subconscious like a broken dam, or a load of bricks dropped over my head. A thousand terrifying images rolled through me. I remembered. Hair on my arms and neck stood at attention. Liam had killed Tony. I was there. How could I forget? The fight was gruesome. And it was real. My tummy coiled. More memories. Tony’d had me cornered at the party. I could be in the morgue this morning instead of Kristy. Heat lit my cheeks and purpose filled my limbs, though to what avail, I had no idea. What could I do?
“How did she die?” I could get facts and share them with Liam and his family. They could stop this from happening again.
“From her wounds, I suppose. I only saw her for a moment, but everyone on the floor talked about it all night. I almost called you a dozen different times, but I didn’t want to be the mom who freaks out and locks her daughter in her room until she’s eighteen. You were safe with Justin and I was in maternal mode. I called Grandma instead and she settled me down.” Mom smiled a small, defeated smile.
“I’m already eighteen.”
She sighed, as if I’d delivered unwanted news. “This time next year, I’ll never know where you are. Seeing you here, safe, in bed this morning? Best gift ever.”
I squeezed her hands and looked into her sad brown eyes. “You said Kristy wasn’t the first. Who else?”
“Oh. There were two others this month. They were both students at Wells and both beaten. They lived in different towns, I think. One was from Canton. The other was from someplace south. New Philadelphia maybe. It was unusual. Two in one month, but losing someone from your school hit home. I know Kristy’s family.” She wiped her eyes against the sleeve of her scrubs. “She was only a baby. She had everything ahead of her and now nothing.”
Fear and anxiety battled the odd feeling of purpose in me. “I’m going to call Allison and Justin to see if they’ve heard yet. Why don’t you lie down and get some rest? I’m here and I’m fine. I had a headache last night, but I wasn’t drinking. Promise. Kristy wasn’t at Justin’s party while I was there. I’ll ask around and see if anyone saw her or knows anything.”
Mom nodded, hugged me, and shuffled out of my room like Kristy was her daughter. My heart broke for Kristy’s parents. Guilt for not mourning her was shoved aside by memories of Liam and Tony in the woods. Liam had said Vikings battled for one another’s things. Was that what happened to Kristy? Was that what might have happened to me if Liam hadn’t shown up and fought him?
Liam had saved my life and I’d forgotten about it.
I brushed my teeth and yanked my hair into a wild ponytail before dressing in the jeans and hoodie on top of my largest pile of clothes.
I poked my head into Mom’s bedroom. “I’m taking Chester for a walk.”
“Don’t go far. Be safe.” She sniffled and pulled the covers up to her swollen eyes.
“Love you, Mom. Don’t forget I work this afternoon. Call me if you need anything.”
She smiled a proud, sad smile. “Wake me before you leave for work, okay? Maybe ask Allison for a ride?”
“Okay.” I pulled her door shut and sent Liam a three sentence text. Kristy Hines is dead. I remember. I’m coming over. Energy fizzed in my veins like the moments before Coach’s whistle sounded, when I was on the starter block, my head was in the game, and my body twitched to dive.
“Chester. You ready for a walk?” I jogged down the steps to the foyer. Doggy nails click-clacked over the kitchen floor as he barreled into the front hallway.
“Woof.” Chester slid to a stop and stood on two legs. He pawed my hoodie and yodeled his weird doggie sounds of happiness.
“Let’s go.”
I yanked the heavy farmhouse door open and squinted into the sunlight. What time was it? The air was brisk, fresh with the distinct scents of fall. Evening storms left the smell of ozone behind where wind and rain pummeled the earth into submission. I checked my phone. Almost noon. No wonder Mom had looked so exhausted. Sleep deprivation on top of emotions was the worst. I put my phone away and looked across the corn. Four hours before work. Four hours to get answers.
Chester and I reached the front steps at Hale Manor without a response text from Liam. I lost my nerve for a minute. What if there really was something in my drink and none of last night happened after my second soda? I walked away, deliberating. Chester did his business in the corn.
“I know it’s all true,” I told Chester as he pawed a leaf into the ground and hoisted his leg for the forty-seventh time. “I should freak out, right? Why don’t I freak out? I’m a giant caution sign. I’m logical and calculating and cynical. Believing there are Vikings in present day Tuscarawas County, Ohio, is not okay. Maybe there’s a history of insanity in my family.”
“We’re ready for you.” Liam scared me into the row of stalks at my side.
Prophecy Page 15
