The Battle Cry (The Guardians of Tara Book 2)

by S. M. Schmitz

  “I don’t know,” Jasper answered. His voice was so quiet, so weary and weak, that Cameron didn’t even feel like calling him an obnoxious asshole.

  “We need to get moving then,” Badb decided. “And we need all the help we can get. London, get Jasper back to Houston then come find us immediately. I’m going to Murias to grab Athena and Ares. If anyone can think of someone else who can help us, then grab them and let’s get out there.”

  Cameron noticed Thor and Tyr exchanging an uneasy glance so he folded his arms again and lifted an eyebrow at them. “Spill it, Jötunn.”

  “First of all,” Thor said, pointing a thick finger at him, “stop calling me that.”

  “Not gonna happen,” Cameron interrupted.

  “And secondly,” Thor continued, ignoring him, “we might be able to get more skilled warriors to assist us. But I don’t know how you’ll feel about it.”

  “Great,” Nemain muttered. “More Norse.”

  “Of course they’re Norse,” Tyr snapped. “We’re Norse. And Loki is our problem. Believe me: even if we were still enemies, we’d work with the Tuatha Dé on this. We want Loki captured. I don’t even care if he’s bound in that cave again or killed.”

  “I don’t care who it is,” Selena interjected. “Get him and let’s hunt down your asshole god and Ukko’s asshole goddess before they kill anyone.”

  Thor and Tyr glanced at each other again before Thor told her, “More like her. Several hers, actually.”

  “Several…” Selena repeated then her eyes widened and she breathed, “Oh. The Valkyries.”

  Thor nodded and stood up. “Their personalities…” Thor’s pale gray eyes blinked between Cameron and Selena. “They have their good qualities. But the legends that they would choose who died in battle while sparing their favorites… many legends contain some grains of truth. They can be vicious, but they are loyal to their leader, and as head of the Norse pantheon now, that would be me. As spirits, no human will be able to see them, which may work in our favor. And they hate Loki as much as the rest of us.”

  Cameron felt Selena’s hand slip inside his own, and he gently squeezed her fingers before telling the Norse thunder god, “We’ll have to take our chances. Get the Valkyries.”

  Once Thor and Tyr left to retrieve the Valkyries, and Badb returned to the Otherworld for the Greek gods, Cameron and Selena found themselves alone with Nemain who kept eyeing Selena with a suspicious look. Cameron wanted to ignore her to see if she’d finally turn into a crow, but Selena grew tired of being examined like a museum display and lost her patience.

  “Just say it, Nemain,” Selena sighed.

  “Why don’t you want to tell me?” she exclaimed. “I thought we were friends!”

  “First of all, how did you find out?” Selena demanded.

  “I figured it out,” Nemain corrected. “Don’t go blaming Badb for spilling your secret. She’d never do that. And then you three kept disappearing to Murias, which only confirmed I’m right. You’ve been to see Semias, haven’t you?”

  Cameron didn’t want to talk about their disastrous trip to see Semias because he didn’t want to hear Selena voice their fears about their daughter: for the first time in over two thousand years, Semias had been unable to predict anything about this future god other than that she’d be born a girl. But Selena’s own fears about the child she carried outweighed her desire to ensure no one else knew about her pregnancy, and Cameron heard her reciting their entire trip to Murias and just how little Semias had been able to help them.

  Nemain looked between them, her look of suspicion transformed into confusion. “How is that possible?” she stammered.

  “Obviously, no one knows,” Cameron snapped.

  Be nice to her, love, Selena pleaded. She means well, and she’s just worried.

  Cameron pretended to watch the rest of the football game even though he’d lost interest in it. Besides, Florida seemed incapable of stopping Alabama, and he really wanted to go to Tuscaloosa and just smite the whole damn city.

  Selena heard that thought, too, and shook her head at him.

  He pretended he didn’t notice.

  “Semias thinks if we can ever find Lugh, he might have more answers for us,” Selena told Nemain.

  “Great,” Nemain groaned. “The only god who can help you now is the one god no one can find.”

  “We’ll find him,” Selena insisted. “Cameron and I will invoke him on Imbolc. Surely, not even Lugh is powerful enough to prevent us from pulling him out of whatever world he’s hiding in.”

  “And then I’m totally going to get my ass kicked by a dead guy,” Cameron sighed.

  “Probably,” Selena agreed.

  Three familiar presences forced them all to stop talking about Lugh and Selena’s pregnancy as Badb returned with Athena and Ares. The Greek war god’s eyes immediately settled on the television and he scowled. “Change of plans. Let’s go to Tuscaloosa instead.”

  Cameron pointed at Ares and exclaimed, “See? Let the smiting begin!”

  “Ares,” Athena scolded, “don’t encourage Cameron. I’m never sure if he’s joking or not, and considering NATO is already threatening to smite us all, I don’t think wreaking vengeance on a college town is going to help matters.”

  “Not the entire city,” Ares clarified. “Just one part of it. And we’ll leave the college kids alone.”

  Cameron nodded seriously. “I’m totally cool with destruction of property though.”

  “Whose property are we destroying?” London asked as she returned from Houston, that mischievous grin reappearing.

  “University of Alabama. Just Bryant-Denny Stadium though,” Cameron answered.

  “I’m on board,” London said.

  Ares pushed a golden brown curl behind his ear and smiled at her, so Cameron grabbed Selena’s hand and gave her a please-tell-me-Ares-isn’t-going-to-hit-on-the-new-girl look so Selena gave him an Ares-is-definitely-going-to-hit-on-the-new-girl look in return.

  “Hermes,” Ares said. “It’s been almost seven hundred years since he died. His replacement is… a definite upgrade.”

  Athena groaned and rolled her eyes. “Keep your… brain where it belongs, Brother. We have bigger problems to deal with than your libido.”

  London snickered and tossed her honey-wheat hair over her shoulder. “And this is why Poseidon didn’t bother telling the rest of the pantheon about me. But go ahead, Ares: keep hitting on me. That way, you can add another problem to your growing list.”

  “I like her,” Athena announced.

  “What is that?” Selena mumbled. The other gods fell silent and looked toward the closed door where they each felt something unfamiliar and oddly disconcerting. Cameron shook his head slowly and pulled his girlfriend closer to him.

  “I’m not sure,” he said quietly. “But it doesn’t feel right.”

  Athena turned away from the door to face the young gods and inhaled a slow breath then let it out just as slowly. “I think,” she said quietly, “the Valkyries have arrived.”

  Chapter Four

  Not gods or mortals, the Valkyries’ nearly identical appearance and signatures made them seem like a single entity, although not one Cameron had ever sensed before. He still couldn’t place what was so unique or discomforting about them. Five had returned with Thor and Tyr who were the only gods not rattled by the presence of the legendary spirits that selected which men would fall in battle and which would prevail. Their glassy blue eyes scanned the cramped motel room, and Cameron had the sudden urge to smite them as well as the Alabama football stadium.

  Badb pulled her fiery red hair into a ponytail, and Cameron distracted himself from the unnerving arrival of the Valkyries by asking her, “So you’re sticking with the red?”

  Badb made a point of staring directly at one of the Valkyries when she answered, “It’s more intimidating in battle than blonde.”

  If the blonde Valkyries cared about her slight, they did a remarkably good job of hiding it.r />
  London crossed her arms and glared at the Irish war goddess. “Hey, I’m blonde, too. And I don’t need to change my hair color to intimidate my enemies. My skills do that.”

  Badb smiled at her and lifted a shoulder. “Yes, Little Goddess. I’m sure men cower at your feet when you approach.”

  Selena rolled her eyes and reminded them they weren’t worried about making men cower but a handful of gods with world domination on their agendas.

  “And knock it off with that Little Goddess shit,” London warned.

  Badb continued to smile at her and lifted the same shoulder. Athena groaned and muttered, “London, don’t antagonize the Mórrígna. Pissing them off never ends well. And…”

  “Wait a minute,” London interrupted. “You’re Greek. You’re supposed to be on my side!”

  Athena gestured toward Badb and retorted, “She’s been my best friend for over two thousand years! If you two have some kind of personal feud then you can work it out without me.”

  “I’d think,” Thor said, “that whatever personal feud you have can wait until after we find all of these gods with world domination on their agendas.”

  Cameron snorted and asked, “Did you just meet Badb or something?”

  “Considering she’s defeated me in battle more than once, I’m well aware of how intimidating and powerful she is, and believe me: I’m also well aware of how stubborn she is,” Thor answered. “And Little Goddess, you have a great deal of potential, but…”

  “Stop calling me that!” London yelled.

  “You should embrace your natural abilities,” Thor finished as if London hadn’t interrupted him. “You can’t compete with Badb’s tactical genius just as she can’t compete with your speed.”

  Is Thor really giving pep talks while the Valkyries just stand there in our motel room looking at us like we’re going to be their next victims? Selena asked.

  Apparently, Cameron answered. Think they’re giving the rest of the gods the creeps? Because they remind me of living dolls. And living dolls definitely give me the creeps.

  The existence of living dolls never ends well in Hollywood, Selena agreed.

  “Cut that out,” Nemain and Badb warned at the same time.

  Think we can make them both turn into crows? Cameron asked.

  “You pulled us away from searching for our dead warriors for this?” one of the Valkyries asked.

  “Huh,” Cameron said. “They talk.”

  Thor blinked at him then turned to his Valkyrie. “Not all of you, Gunnr. Just my best. You have one mission with us then you can return to bringing our warriors home: find Loki.”

  The Valkyrie that must have been Gunnr nodded, but her expression never changed, reminding Cameron once again of the living doll analogy. Of course, if they were living dolls, or sort-of living dolls, they’d definitely be up there with Chuckie except taller. And far prettier.

  Cheering on the television reminded them the game was still on, so Selena picked up the remote to turn it off but her finger paused over the power button as the game cut away to a news reporter who looked like she was trying to appear somber and grim while not-so-secretly hiding her excitement over a ratings-spike-worthy story.

  Cameron sat on the foot of the bed and Badb sat next to him. Before the reporter even began her story, all of the gods in that musty motel room seemed to share the same thought: Loki was sending them a warning.

  And he definitely had their attention now.

  “New Orleans has been placed under a city-wide quarantine,” the reporter announced, “after an inexplicable outbreak of smallpox that is rapidly spreading throughout the city. All flights have been canceled at Louis Armstrong International airport, and traffic on the river has been halted. The interstates are blockaded, and the National Guard is in the city to prevent anyone from leaving or entering. A hotline has been set up for family to call if they’re unable to reach loved ones inside the Crescent City.”

  “Oh my God,” Selena whispered. “I have to get to New Orleans.”

  “We all have to get to New Orleans,” London corrected. “Loviatar has to be there. You focus on healing as many people as you can. We’ll find her and Loki.”

  Selena nodded and moved toward the door, which made Cameron jump from the foot of the bed to keep her away from the Valkyries. But the fierce spirits of the Norse had already opened the door and stepped onto the walkway, disappearing into the rapidly darkening evening sky.

  Cameron and Selena ducked into a familiar alleyway where a nightclub that never reopened after an unexplained fire still bore the smoky scars of an encounter with the supernatural. Khaki colored armored vehicles rolled down the dimly lit street, loudspeakers blasting repeated reminders that the curfew was now in effect, the man’s apathetic voice echoing around the French Quarter. Badb hurried into the alleyway with them and narrowed her eyes at the convoy passing on the narrow street. They could hide themselves so that no one would be able to see them, but right now, none of them wanted to take any chances.

  “The outbreak supposedly started right here,” Badb said. “In the restaurant next to us. Don’t you think it’s strange people would start showing symptoms of smallpox in a restaurant that forms one of the walls of the alleyway where you and Selena first met?”

  Cameron nodded and peeked into the street to see if the convoy had finally passed. “Definitely. There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. How many people could possibly know where we met except for you and Ukko?”

  “I don’t think Ukko would have told anyone,” Selena said. “He wanted me in the New Pantheon, and he wanted to make sure nobody else got to me first. Once you entered the picture, he wanted you in his agency as well. I doubt he ever told anyone outside of that agency about either of us. Actually, he probably told few people inside the agency about us.”

  Badb nodded in agreement. “And I obviously only talked to a handful of gods about both of you. My sisters, the Dagda, Athena. None of them would have gone around gossiping about your origins.”

  “We had that big meeting in the Dagda’s hall when you introduced us to the Greeks,” Cameron said. “But I skipped out a bit early.” He bit his lip and offered Selena one of his mischievous grins. He’d left the Tuatha Dé’s meeting because of his belief that she not only didn’t love him but found the idea of falling for him completely repulsive. How was he supposed to know that even then, she loved him so much she’d been willing to give up everything—even her place on the Irish pantheon—for him?

  Badb shrugged and reminded him she hadn’t been around for the entire meeting either as she’d followed Selena when the young demigoddess left as well.

  “We probably need to work on sticking around for entire meetings,” Cameron joked.

  “We need to work on a lot of things,” Selena agreed. “Including how to stay focused. You know, for those situations where we find ourselves in an occupied city that’s suffering from an outbreak of a virus that was supposedly eradicated decades ago.”

  “Conceded,” Cameron agreed.

  He looked into the street again and was about to ask where they should start when the low rumbling of another convoy of armored vehicles approached. He hid in the shadows and asked Badb, “Who could have overheard you when you first went home to tell Dagda about us? I’m assuming you were reporting to him the whole time… telling him about this beautiful and perfect demigoddess and this slightly annoying but devastatingly handsome demigod that you were sure were the heirs you’d been waiting for, so who else lives in the palace and could have overheard?”

  Badb’s gray eyes widened and she slowly shook her head. “Oh, Cameron… you think our traitor might live with us?”

  “We can rule out Aonghus,” Selena said quietly.

  Badb nodded and added, “I don’t think our traitor would have to live in the Dagda’s palace though. You know gods are always coming and going from there, and we had no reason to suspect one of our own would betray us. But no god is missing from Murias, which
means whomever has turned against us is still there.”

  “And has targeted us specifically,” Selena sighed, pointing toward the fire-damaged nightclub she and Cameron had once escaped through.

  “Of course they are,” Cameron agreed. “Gods are always trying to kill us. Apparently, even our own.”

  “Hey,” Badb protested, “most of us have pledged our lives for you. Just… add some random Irish god to your hit-list and let’s find the hospital where they’re taking all of the smallpox victims.”

  Cameron arched an eyebrow at her and pulled the piece of paper from the pocket of his jeans. He held out his hand and smiled at the war goddess. “Pen?”

  “You’re kidding me,” Badb replied.

  “Well, I’m not writing it in blood.”

  “Cameron,” Selena hissed. “Focus on the ambulances! Where are they going?”

  “Probably a hospital,” Cameron answered smartly.

  “Obnoxious asshole,” Badb reminded him.

  Cameron snorted and peeked into the street again. “Tulane Medical Center is close by. They’re most likely heading there. I mean… it’s smallpox. What are these doctors even going to do for these people?”

  “Probably nothing,” Selena said, grabbing his hand. “Which is why we need to hurry.”

  Cameron gasped as the alleyway dissolved into an overflowing emergency room filled with miserable people whose faces were flushed a deep purple and who moaned in pain as they awaited their death beds.

  “This isn’t smallpox,” Cameron whispered even though no one could hear them, “is it?”

  “It is,” Badb whispered back. “It’s a severe form we used to call black pox. It’s almost always fatal.”

  “Oh God,” Selena breathed. “There are so many of them.”

  Nurses and doctors in Tyvek suits, respirators, and goggles knelt by dying patients with vials and bifurcated needles in hand, a desperate and almost certainly futile effort to administer smallpox vaccinations in the hope it would slow down the disease process. With the more common forms of smallpox, it should have worked for at least some of the affected patients, but Cameron doubted anything of this world would be able to save these people. Because this virus hadn’t been inflicted by nature, and its severe manifestation wasn’t coincidental. No treatment could help these people now.