“And Carly’s extra gift?”
“Makes her a perfect complement to you, don’t you think?” She gives me a gentle smile. “One of many.”
Her smile widens as both Styx and I frown, puzzled.
“Her paintings are gateways,” she prompts.
“Like I am a gateway. From life to death.” Styx’s eyes widen.
She nods, glancing through the doorway, where I can see my sisters listening, their men at their sides. “You are all mirrors of each other, in a way. Seph is spring and life, Jack is winter and the long night. Jett was destruction, Stephen is healing. Tyr is fire and control, Ana is ice and passion.”
“What about me?”
“You are hope,” Styx says instantly. My mother beams at him.
“Yes.”
“But what does that make Styx?”
She shakes her head, a shadow flitting through her eyes so quickly I decide I must have imagined it. “You’ll have to figure that out for yourself.”
“Okay,” Styx says slowly. “But what about how you got magic in the first place? Before Loki? You said you were happy and all, but Herne ended up wanting to kill all of you. That isn’t love.”
She goes up on her tiptoes to pat his jaw. “No, it isn’t. Not all love lasts forever. That is the sad truth. Sometimes it gets twisted and ugly, and sometimes the spark of it just fades away. That’s why it’s so important to treasure every moment of what you have. You never know when it’s all about to change.” She shakes her head, blond waves gleaming over eyes that look tired. Happy, but tired.
“One more thing . . .”
“Just one?” She lifts an eyebrow.
“You stole the Eitr from me, but who stole the Fetters from Odin?”
“I stole them both. I couldn’t have Odin trapping you.”
“But why?” Styx’s brow is furrowed. “Why not come to me, explain what Loki did and insist I destroy the Eitr at once?”
“Ah, but I did try that.” She wags a finger. “The first few times I went that direction, you didn’t believe me and I barely escaped alive. The one time I did convince you, it got royally messed up anyway. Because that was only one piece of Loki’s plan. You’re thinking too linearly.” Then she mumbles, “Everyone assumes it’s so damn easy.”
I can’t help but smile. Styx is about to be schooled.
“Changing the future is like choreographing a complex dance while knives are being thrown at you from every direction. You can’t just rush blindly to the end, you have to work your way through, one step a time, or be sliced to bits. For every step I figured out, I got sliced open dozens of times getting there. Do you have any idea how many possibilities exist in this world? How many choices? Then add in Loki’s interference . . .” She shudders, then glances at Styx. “You think you know eternity? Trying redoing every minute of your life fifteen different ways.
“Do you’ve any idea how hard it was to figure out a way to make sure Seph died without Jack Frost preventing it?” She rolls her eyes. “And making the decision to let Jett survive Lev so she would go to Freya and become hard enough to kill her own sister?” Her eyes begin to shine, her voice becoming ragged. “Ana needed to suffer through Viktor’s rejection and the humiliation of the Council to temper her thirst for safety that would have made her reject Tyr if they’d met too soon. And you had to be here in this future to fall in love with my Carly. If I had somehow gotten you to destroy the Eitr straightaway, the world may have been safe from Loki’s plan, but my family would not have been.”
“You risked the world to save us.” I grab her hand in both of mine, my throat tight. I knew it. I did. I just forgot for a little while. Any lingering doubts I had are whisked away.
“She risked the nine realms to save you,” Styx corrects, looking at my mother with a curious expression. “And won. What if you hadn’t?”
“But I did.” She wags a finger again. “Loki can see all possible outcomes, but he can’t see which one becomes truth until it happens. He can’t time travel. In that, I had an important advantage. Though I had others.”
There’s a gleam in her eye I can’t place, but Styx gets it immediately. “You think Loki wanted you to best him.”
My mother looks up at him, a smile playing on her lips. “Who can say? Perhaps not even Loki himself.”
“You sound like you almost like him,” I say quietly.
She shakes her head at the accusation in my voice. “I sympathize with his plight, darling. After all, who could understand better the desperate desire to save your children? And the awful, awful reality of failing,” she whispers. “I’ve seen you all die, over and over again, but I didn’t have to live with it. He did.”
“But all he put you through . . . put us through.” I stare at my mother, my mouth half open.
“Carly, everything that happened could have happened with or without his interference. Or ended all those years ago in Normandy like he first showed me.” She shivers. “As hard as it’s been, I wouldn’t trade that ending for this.”
Huh. I guess I wouldn’t either.
My mother kisses my forehead before turning back to Styx. “Now go on. I think my daughter still wants her shower.”
With a tinkling laugh, my mother leaves us standing at the doorway, watching her walk away.
27
I don’t have an en suite, but the third floor does have a three-quarters bath. Just a toilet, a pedestal sink and a shower. A lovely, huge shower that I’m currently eyeing with such longing. Styx glances over his shoulder and grins as he adjusts the temperature, steam already filling the small space. “Hot?”
“Scorching, please.” His eyes darken briefly at my words.
I lick my lips, then swallow hard. “Aren’t you going to join me?”
His hand freezes on the door handle and those shoulders bunch until he seems to fill the whole room.
“Is that what you want?” The rumble of his voice makes me twist my hands.
“More than anything. But only if you want to.”
He turns and leans back against the closed door, watching as I approach, but not moving a muscle. I stop just short of touching him. The silence between us roars in my ears as I look up into the face of the man I love.
“Seducing you that night wasn’t a means to an end, you know.” Tears sting my eyes. “You know that, right? I just wanted— I needed—”
He places a finger over my lips, his gaze molten. “I know.”
“It—”
“Carly. The morning may have been a little rough,” his smile is gentle, “but that was the best night of my life.”
“It was?”
“Yes.” He cocks his head, then his fingers come down to stroke my cheek. “At least until this one.”
Somehow, I’m simultaneously stripped and kissed and backed into the shower. The hot water catches me unawares and I gasp into his mouth. Immediately, Styx reverses our positions, taking the hard spray of the showerhead against his back. The water finds me though, deliciously warm now that I’ve had a second to adjust. Though not as delicious as his mouth. I seek it again, whimpering softly and grabbing fistfuls of his slowly dampening hair in my hands.
I feel greedy, greedy for warmth, for food, for sleep, for life.
But most of all for this.
His hand slams into the wall above my head and I think I hear the plaster give way. “I’m not sure— Carly, maybe we should wait.”
“Still scared about control?”
“Not the way you think.” His laugh sounds strangled. “I’m just feeling a bit . . . rough.”
“Good. Because I don’t want gentle, Styx.” I suck his lower lip into my mouth and run my teeth over it, watching the muscles in his chest tighten and jump before I pull back. “I could feel you inside me when I walked into that awful place. Inside me here—” I tap my head, and then my heart, before letting my fingers slide down our bodies, into the slick heat between my legs while his jaw tightens. “—and here,” I whisper, arching m
y back. “Feeling you kept me centered, it kept me sane.”
He swallows hard, then his gaze trails up my body, searing everything in its path. When his eyes meet mine, the desire and love and fear inside them make my breath hitch in my chest. “Losing you tore me apart.”
“Then let me make you whole again. Let me make us whole again.”
He nods once before lifting me in his arms. His hands are warm and rough and slick on my ass. I spread my legs to circle his waist, tasting the spray of the water on my face, every second of this moment branding itself deeply into my brain.
We both watch him enter me, feeling and seeing our bodies join until it’s too much.
Too much and not enough.
I’m being stretched to the limit. Having only had him once before, my body isn’t used to this. Maybe it will never be used to this, but it wants. I want. My muscles lock and roll, trying to pull him deeper.
He hisses, as if the sensation is too intense, pulling back, making my breath come short at the loss. Then he slams deep, my shoulders braced against the wall taking the impact, my whole body jolting with the force of his invasion. My eyes roll back in my head and I clutch helplessly at his shoulders, my nails skidding over slick, hard skin.
“More,” I whimper, and he complies. Hard and fast, taking me in a way that’s neither gentle nor completely sane but is exactly what I need.
He keeps me in place with the power of his thrusts and one hand on my ass as his other hand wanders my slippery body, exploring the curve of my hips, the rise of my ribs and making me cry out when his fingers find one breast and then the other, rolling and tugging at my nipples. I’m twisting in his arms like a wild thing, my heels banging into the hard curves of his ass. I know my nails must be drawing blood, but neither of us cares. We’re caught in a maelstrom of need and lust, both of us marking the other in any way we can.
He comes first with a roar that shivers the frosted glass around us. His magnificent body ripples with the force of his pleasure, every muscle standing out in stark perfection as he slams me back. His cock is so deep inside me it feels as if we truly are one entity, one person made whole. The heat of him pours into me and I gasp, the pleasure so intense it’s almost unbearable.
But I hover on the edge, stubbornly fighting the fall, needing to hold on to this moment for as long as possible. Then his eyes open and I’m lost in their golden depths, sinking away into the only heaven that exists.
The heaven that is Styx.
I stay in the shower for a while after Styx towels off. I will never take hot water for granted ever again.
When he calls my name though, I shut the water off and towel dry, grabbing my robe from the back of the door, smiling at it like an old, familiar friend. I love everything today, I muse as I walk down the hall to my room. Hot water, sunshine-yellow robes with holes in them and most definitely the sight of my man lying across my bed. I stop in the doorway, steam still curling around me, taking the sight of him in.
I have the same feeling I had in the shower, of wanting to carve this moment into my mind. He’s looking at me the same way, those golden eyes raking me from head to heels and back again. The robe makes him smile. He’s got his jeans on, but they’re not buttoned and his hair is damp, spread out over my pillow.
He looks tired. Too tired, poor guy. I guess I did put him through hell. Even that thought makes me smile as I tighten the robe. We both went through so much to get here. We deserve the happy ending, the sweetly satisfying fade to black as the credits roll.
“I think we should have a nap now.”
“Sounds good to me.”
He pats the bed next to him and I jump on it happily. I love beds, too. And sheets and pillows and . . .
“Carly. I need to tell you something. About what happened while you were in Hel.”
“Shoot.” I snuggle closer and lay my head on his chest. Gods, I’m so happy it’s a bit like being confounded. It’s so good to be home. I expect him to put his arm around me while he talks, but he doesn’t. I look up finally when he remains quiet, wondering if he fell asleep already. But his eyes are wide open, staring up at the ceiling. “Styx?”
“I didn’t think it would happen so fast.” Even his voice sounds tired. Pale. Like his skin, I realize with alarm. That beautiful rich gold is fading, turning waxy and he feels cold. “I’m sorry, baby. I should have told you sooner.”
“Told me what?” I shake him as his eyes close again. “Styx! What’s happening?”
“Goodbye, baby.”
Goodbye?
I scream.
28
My mother comes running into the room, Tyr and Ana at her heels, an oh-so-familiar bottle in her hand.
“What the ever-loving fuck?” Tyr breathes. “You told Odin you left that thing in the past, that it was gone forever.”
“In a minute it will be,” she says, pushing me aside to kneel next to Styx.
“What are you doing?”
“Styx paid a price to get you out of Hel. Did you think that gateway opened for free?”
“I thought . . . his powers.”
“In a way, yes. Only one of his people could have opened the portal, but even they couldn’t do it without consequences.” She raises the Eitr again. “But this can save him.”
“Will it hurt him?” I grab her wrist. “How can you be sure it won’t kill him? You said a few drops nearly killed you.”
“If he were anything but what he is, it would kill him, but this magic is from his people, Carly. It’s different for him.”
Our eyes lock. I want to trust her again, I really do, but . . .
“He’s dying,” she says, more gently now. “It’s only taking so long because he has such a tremendous life force. But it will happen. Unless we stop it.”
I have a bad feeling about this, but everything feels bad right now. As awful and wrong and horrible as it was good just a few minutes ago. All I can focus on is Styx slipping away, his skin turning ashen and pale.
I let her go. She leans over and uncorks the bottle. Then I stop her once more, just long enough to lean over and brush his cool lips with mine. “See you soon,” I whisper.
I back away as my mother pours what’s left of the Eitr down his throat. For a long moment nothing happens. Then, like watching a lit match held to a piece of paper, a faint line of gold streaks down his arm, then spreads, swallowing the horrible ashen pallor.
Seconds later, Styx is breathing again, his color returning to normal. Everyone lets out the collective breath they have all been holding. I wobble toward the bed, relief making my knees weak, blinking back tears of joy, expecting him to sit up at any second.
But he doesn’t.
My smile starts to slip as I reach for his hand, only to have it flicker out of sight on the sheet. Like a glitch in a game when the server is overloaded.
My heart stutters.
“What is going on?” someone whispers.
Then his whole body disappears. It’s back in the next second. But then it happens again. Through it all, Styx’s eyes remain closed, his breathing deep and even.
I’m back on the bed, trying to reach him.
“No! Carly, Don’t touch him! Tyr, grab her.” Tyr yanks me back at Mother’s swift, shocked order. I twist in his arms, innate magic crackling between us as Tyr winces and refuses to let go.
“What is happening to him?”
She shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears as she stares at Styx in horror. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t see this. Oh Carly, I swear I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?” I’m screaming so loud it feels like my throat is bleeding, the taste of iron and copper heavy in my mouth. “Is he dying anyway?”
“No. He’s going home.”
Home? What the fuck does that mean?
But suddenly I know. My eyes lock on the bed, where Styx is lying, one arm thrown behind his head, the other still stretched across the duvet, fingers outstretched as if he’s reaching
for me. But where he’s going I can’t follow.
None of my people remain here, Carly. They all left.
Back to the stars?
Something like that, baby.
One second he’s right in front of me, solid and strong and clear.
And the next he’s gone.
Vanished as if he were never here at all.
29
Four weeks. Two days.
Five hours.
Eleven minutes.
And counting.
I know it’s not a countdown. I know I’m only marking time since Styx vanished, but I can’t help it.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. That’s what Mom keeps saying. Over and over again. I don’t blame her. After knowing now all she went through, how can I? She was fighting chaos itself. Three out of four happily-ever-afters isn’t so bad.
Except when you’re the fourth.
Styx drinking the Eitr was the last piece, my mother explained, the last move in her long and drawn-out chess game with Loki. The one way to get rid of it forever. It’s why I had to go into Hel, to make the god of chaos think he’d won.
But neither Loki nor my mother have ever been able to see Styx too clearly in their visions. She swears she saw me and him together, though. Together and happy, years from now.
That’s how she knew it would work, she told me, with tears pouring down her face. That things would turn out okay.
But they’re not okay. With my mother’s powers gone, none of us knows what the future holds. My dreams are as murky as ever. Sometimes I still think it will be all right, but most of the time . . .
I just don’t know.
Fall is upon us now. It’s always been my favorite time of year. I guess it still is, but it’s hard to see the colors now. Everything is washed out and everything hurts.
Kind of like I’m still in Hel. Which I guess I kind of am.
Magpies & Moonshine (Toil and Trouble Book 6) Page 15
