by Linsey Hall
“Come on,” Cam said, rubbing her arms and pulling her toward the car. “We don’t have long before he can gather enough gods to force you back. He’ll want to heal up before he faces them. We have a few hours at most.”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
Cam looked at the sky and a frown stretched across his face. “Let's find Logan before this snow turns the roads to shit and we get stuck.”
She hurried into the car, and Cam engaged the four-wheel drive for the last few miles to what she hoped was Logan Laufeyson’s house. It was slow going, with big fat flakes hitting the windshield and turning the road white.
“What will you say when you meet him?” Cam asked, his eyes intent on the road ahead of them.
“Um—hi, do you want to be a god?” Honestly, she was so freaked out from having seen Cernowain that she’d be proud to be that eloquent.
“Subtle.”
“I’m not exactly at my mental best. And it’s got to be appealing to some people, right?” As long as they didn’t know what Otherworld was really like. She felt a twinge of guilt. But if one were power hungry enough, it would be a decent trade-off.
“To some, sure. I think it’s as good as anything. So long as he doesn’t shoot us on sight. Just lay it all out.”
Not being shot on sight would be good. And she liked the idea of laying it all out. It would ease her conscience. She wanted Logan to agree so badly that she couldn’t imagine it not happening. It was poor logic, but she couldn’t help it. Nervous, she gripped her seat’s arm rest as they rumbled down the drive to the cottage.
“The lights aren’t on,” she said, her gaze darting around the exterior of the cottage. Small, only a couple rooms. No footsteps in the snow. “Are you sure this is it?”
“No. All Fiona said was that it’s a small cottage in the Cairngorm mountains off of the A939, south of the village of Tomintoul. This could be it, or it could be down the road a bit.”
Ana nodded, peering hard into the darkened windows of the cottage as Cam parked in the small drive. He had to be here. He had to.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Cam followed Ana to the door, his eyes alert for any movement in or around the house. Fat snowflakes glinted in the light of the car’s headlights. They stepped onto the stoop, and Cam glanced down at Ana. She nodded, so he knocked. Waited. Knocked again. The wind picked up, and with it the snow.
“This sucks,” Ana said, rubbing her arms.
Cam knocked again, but by now didn’t expect an answer. He glanced behind him to see the drive to the house now blanketed with snow. What had started as fat white flakes had turned into a storm that was whiting out the night.
Ana hopped off the stoop and walked to one of the windows to peer in.
“I think it’s empty,” she said, moving on to the next window.
Fuck. Disappointment dropped Cam’s heart to his feet. As much as he felt like a worthless bastard for abandoning his post in Otherworld, he wanted to stay with Ana far more than he wanted to live out that destiny. He hadn’t realized how much hope he’d had riding on finding Logan Laufeyson and getting him to take Ana’s place.
“Let’s try the back,” he said, and trekked through the snow to the rear of the cottage. It was just as dark on this side, but when he tried the back door, he found it unlocked.
“What do you think?” Ana whispered.
“It’s worth a check to see if we’re in the right place. And we’re not going to get back up that road until this storm lets up.”
“Good. I’m freezing. Let’s go in.”
They scraped their shoes on the mat and stepped inside, careful not to drip too much water. Better not piss off their host when they wanted something from him. They crept silently through the cottage, determining within a minute that it was empty.
“Must be a rental,” Ana said, tapping the small binder of brochures and house directions on the counter. Sturdy, generic furniture and the lack of photos corroborated the theory. “Do you think he’s staying here?”
“Could be. If so, he’s changing his hermit ways.” Cam swung open the fridge to reveal a six pack of Tennant’s Lager and some ham and bread. He went back into the bedroom, drew the curtains, flipped on the light. The closet revealed a bag containing a few changes of men’s clothing and a passport at the bottom. He flipped the passport open and peered down at the face of a man who looked to be in his mid-thirties, though he was far older.
He frowned at the name next to the picture. Conrad Allen.
“What’d you find?” Ana asked as she walked into the room and stopped at his side.
He tilted the passport to her.
“Could be fake,” she said.
“That’s what I'm thinking. He wouldn’t leave his real name lying around.” With that thought, Cam slipped a cell phone out of his back pocket and dialed Fiona.
“It’s Cam,” he said when she picked up the line.
“I bet you have another question that’s going to be a pain to answer,” Fiona said.
“Probably. Do you know what Logan Laufeyson looks like?”
“Sort of. I’ve got a description from the Acquirer who saw him steal the bow and arrow. It’s one of the ways I tracked him.”
Cam looked down at the passport. “Has he got real pale skin, a thin scar along his jaw, longish black hair, and”—he squinted at the picture— “black eyes?”
“That scar sounds right, as does the rest.”
“Good. Do you have any record of him going by the name Conrad Allen?”
“No, but I’d buy it. I’ll do some research, add it to my records. But I’d bet it’s him. The witches pinpointed him to that valley, and almost no one lives there. And that description fits.”
“Good. How would he feel if he came back to his rental and found two squatters waiting for him? The snow’s coming down hard and we won’t make it out of here ’til it clears.”
“I have no idea. But there’s no record of him being insane. A rental isn’t like your own house, you know? So just leave the lights on and wait in the living room. It’ll probably be fine.”
Cam didn’t love the sound of that, but he also didn’t love the sound of waiting in the car. It’d be damn hard to defend them while he was sitting. And lurking outside was too threatening.
“I see. One last thing. What is he? Can he aetherwalk?”
“Don’t quite know what he is, but he is Mythean. And I’ve never heard of him aetherwalking.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” He hung up when the line went dead.
“It’s him?” Ana asked.
“Think so. Come on. Let’s go in the living room so that when he arrives we’re not shifting around through his stuff. He probably doesn’t aetherwalk, so we’ll have to hear his car come up the drive.”
He flipped off the light and glanced back to make sure the room looked the same as when they’d entered. When they reached the tiny room with its overstuffed couch, Ana went straight to the window and peered out into the darkness.
“It’s a mess out there. Really coming down now,” she said.
Cam flipped on two of the lamps so that a low glow would shine out the window and stepped up behind her to look out into the night.
“Damn. It’ll be a while before he’s back,” he said, trying to focus on the view rather than the heat of her back pressed against him. The memory of last night in the pub made him shift behind her, drawing his hips away. Now was not the time for a fucking hard-on.
She slipped her quiver from her back, let it slip to the floor, and leaned back against him. He couldn’t stifle the sigh that escaped him. He wrapped an arm about her middle and pulled her back to rest against him.
“It’s barely seven. We might as well keep a lookout,” she said, resting her head against his chest.
He nodded and reached over to turn off the closest lamp so that they could see out. There was still enough light to alert Logan when he came home, and their shadows in the window would be a big clue.
> “Do you really think Cernowain used the rain in Inverness to send his boars to find us?” Ana asked, idly running her hand up and down the arm Cam had wrapped around her waist. Her other hand hung at her hip, gripping her bow so that it rested against his thigh. He swore he could feel her all over his body, and he had to shake his head to focus.
“I don’t know. Seems odd. But I suppose. They’re determined to have you back.”
“It’s not my destiny.”
“No. It was mine.”
“But you hated Otherworld. And your destiny.”
“True. But it’s hard not to feel like I ran from something that felt wrong without even trying to fix it.”
“Part of you wants to go back, doesn’t it?” Her voice wavered, so slightly that he could barely hear it.
It shot a pang through his heart even as that same heart leapt at the idea that she would miss him. He spun her to face him, vaguely registering her bow hitting the carpet and her hands coming up to grip his shirt.
“Yes, but I have important work to do here, back in the jungle. I can’t leave it. But more than that, I’d rather be here with you. A thousand times over.” He’d realized it as soon as Druantia had told him that Logan wasn’t there. With the safety net that Logan provided gone, the likelihood that he might have to go in order to save Ana had hit him hard. He’d realized without a doubt that he didn’t want to leave her, not even to fulfill the destiny that he’d been running from.
A tremulous smile stretched across her face. “Good.” She reached up to yank his head down to hers. The press of her lips drove any thought of liking or loving from his brain, and he gripped her tighter to him.
The feel of her body, hot and soft and curved, drew his hands, desperate to touch as much of her as he could in the few seconds they had to spare before common sense returned. The shadow of all that weighed on them hovered at the corner of his mind as he bit her bottom lip and tugged with his teeth. When she moaned, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, stroking and tasting and wishing it could go on but knowing it couldn’t.
He broke the kiss, his chest heaving, and leaned his forehead against hers while his hands gripped her hips. “Ana, the things I feel with you.”
She clutched his shirt. “Don’t leave me. Logan will agree to go, and it’ll be fine. It’ll be fine.” There was the barest crazed edge to her voice, but she spun quickly and put her hands against the window to peer out.
He stepped up behind her and reached for her hand. After a few minutes, she relaxed enough to lean back against his chest. They watched out the window for nearly an hour, hypnotized by the falling snow. Finally, it started to lighten.
“If he’s been waiting this out in the village, he should be heading back soon,” Cam said.
Ana nodded, her gaze still intent on the outside. It was another hour before headlights came down the drive. Ana stiffened in his arms.
“Wow. I can’t believe this is happening,” Ana said. She bent down to pick up her quiver.
“Leave it.” He touched her arm and she straightened. “Close enough that you can get to it if you need it. But he knows we’re here. I’m a fast draw, and we don’t want him to feel threatened if he sees us armed.”
~~~
Ana watched the man climb out of a Range Rover. Her eyes met his through the window and a chill raced across her skin on tiny mouse feet. Suspicion stretched across his face at the sight of her in his house, but she didn’t see anger or fear.
No, it didn’t look like anything would frighten this man. He was tall, with a lean strength that couldn’t be concealed by his black winter coat. His strides ate up the ground too quickly as he headed toward the house.
The front door creaked as it opened, the sound ominous in the silence. A rush of cold air followed Logan inside, but Ana couldn’t really feel it. She was too focused on the man who stepped into the living room. He was eerily beautiful, with inky hair and eyes that only emphasized his pale skin.
He had more than just dark color in his eyes. He had dark thoughts as well. They made him a type of scary handsome. But not like Cam, who looked as if he could beat the shit out of anyone with his fists without breaking a sweat. No, this man was another kind of frightening, a kind she wasn’t familiar with because she hadn’t felt fear in a very long time. She swallowed hard.
“Visitors?” His raspy voice carried a sarcastic twist.
“Um, no,” Ana said, unsure of how to start now that he was here and pinning her with his black gaze. No, not her. Cam, who was standing behind her. Was he looking at Cam strangely? “I’m Ana, Celtic goddess of victory. This is Cam, a Celtic demigod.”
There. She saw it. A light of recognition in his eyes. She looked behind her to see suspicion in Cam’s gaze. Did he recognize him? She tried to catch Cam’s eyes, but his were glued to Logan.
Fates, this was already going poorly. She’d expected this to be awkward; they were sitting in this man’s living room, after all. But something was off, something that made her heart climb into her throat and beat like a moth trying to escape a jar.
“Why are you here?” Logan asked.
She rushed to make her offer before the suspense made her pass out. “You see, I don’t want to be a god anymore. And we heard that you’re an incredible archer. Strong enough to maybe take my place if you wanted to. Be a Celtic war god, that is.”
A sardonic smile twisted his lips, and a chill raced down her spine. “That’s an interesting offer.”
“It’s a lot of prestige.” The words tumbled from Ana’s lips. He had to agree. He had to.
“Ana,” Cam said, warning in his voice.
But she ignored him, her tongue running away from her mind in her desperation to convince him. This was her last, her only, chance. “It’s not the most exciting place in the universe, but Otherworld is lovely. And you’d be a god. The respect and fear people show you is great.” He had to agree it was a good deal.
“Being a god does sound good,” he said, that strange smile still cutting across his face. “But I’m —”
The rubber-band snap of many gods appearing in the living room made Ana’s knees weaken. They filled the space, a dozen or more of the most powerful gods in Otherworld crowded into the room. Their eyes found her before she could count them all, and every expression was darker than the last. Logan looked on with interest, and she remembered that he was the only person besides her who could see Cam.
Her heart almost burst from her chest when she caught sight of Hafgan and Arawn, the kings of Otherworld. Their eyes zeroed in on her and they stalked toward her.
“Ana, your time is up,” Hafgan said, his voice carrying the low roll of thunder. “You’re coming back to Otherworld, to Blackmoor, where you’ll live out your punishment.”
The tor. Where she’d be chained to the granite in the wind and the rain and the snow to fully realize her stupidity and pride. As the thought flashed in her mind, she felt Cam back away from her. The cold slick of sweat broke out on her skin and she spun to face him.
Her jaw dropped when he plucked the blue-fletched arrow out of her quiver. The one they’d already anointed with the demigod potion.
“Cam, no!” She reached out to stop him.
So fast that she could barely follow the motion of his hands, Cam plucked her bow off the ground and nocked the arrow. She was staring down the shaft of her own arrow.
He shot. Pain exploded in her chest where the arrow struck, and his face, twisted with determination and horror, was the last thing she saw before she collapsed.
The sticky warmth of her blood pooled beneath her back as her vision went black. Unidentifiable noises echoed in her ears, but she couldn’t decipher words. She felt her power leaving like a physical thing, draining out with her blood. Was someone touching her? She tried to move her hand but couldn’t.
Cam? Her last thoughts raced across her mind as the chill spread out from her chest. Cam had chosen Otherworld over her, or for her. So hard to tell, the way her thought
s tumbled in her mind, each grappling to be the truth. Fears and hopes, all worthless now. But one thing stood clear in her fading mind. With all her options taken away, she realized that what she really wanted, more than life on earth or any of the exciting things she’d longed for, was him.
And now he would be trapped in Otherworld, chained to a tor on Blackmoor.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Seconds slowed to hours as the room erupted into shouts and chaos. An invisible hand squeezed Cam’s throat as his gaze locked on Ana’s body. She seemed to fall in slow motion, the blue-fletched arrow protruding from her chest and her eyes wide with surprise. The bow that had felt so natural and wonderful in his hands now felt unfamiliar. Foreign and evil.
The thud of her body hitting the ground spurred him into action. He was at her side in moments, his hands tangled in her hair, his chest and mind on fire. Her mouth was slack, her eyes half closed. Not dead. Not yet. And thus the gods couldn’t see him. The sight of the blood that pooled beneath her body struck his mind like a blow and wrapped his heart in barbed wire.
Familiar. He’d done it to save her, but that didn’t take away the horror of watching her die. Or the eerie feeling that he’d watched her die before. He blinked the vision away.
She went still barely a second later, and the uproar in the room swelled. Hands yanked him back, away from Ana.
“Camulos.” The booming voice echoed through the room, but he could barely hear it. His gaze was still glued to Ana. Movement surged toward him as the gods closed in. Another pair of hands jerked him roughly, and he realized that he’d be dragged to Otherworld any moment.
He panicked. His gaze jerked around the room until it landed on the only other person who didn’t have a reason to hurt Ana. Take care of her, he pleaded with his eyes.
The other gods ignored her now, assuming her soul would arrive in Otherworld, as his had after he’d been shot so many years ago. She’d be safe, as long as they didn’t know about the potion that would turn her into a demigod.
