MistUnveiled

by Nancy Corrigan

  Jaron ran a hand through his hair. “This is all the damn eldjötnar’s fault. Had they not upset the balance, we wouldn’t be facing a drive to breed.”

  Rune tensed. “You felt it too?”

  “No, but Lyal did. He steered clear of the woman. She was with a human male and child. He described how intense the pull was to her, though. He fought with his instincts that insisted he grab her and run away with his prize.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yes, shit.” Jaron fisted his hands. “I have ordered the others to team up and stay clear of human women. Hopefully, the wind will carry my warning before they too succumb to a female’s lure. We cannot give in to our primal drives now. Too much is at stake.”

  Yes, it was. It seemed to worsen by the minute. “Tell me of Asgard.”

  Jaron stepped closer and matched Rune’s stance against the house. Arms crossed, he surveyed the town. After a moment, Jaron dropped his head to the wall behind him. “They are gone. All of them.”

  “Dead?” Rune asked because he couldn’t imagine what other fate had befallen them.

  The gods were not immortal. Long-lived, yes. It was why they slept. Their role in Ragnarok was much different from that of the children of mist and fire. They knew of their destiny. They would die in the final battle. Like the earth itself, however, they would be reborn from the chaotic mass to repeat the cycle. If they died too soon, however, they wouldn’t be able to play their required part. The cycle would end.

  Jaron shrugged. “If they are, we are all doomed. All I can say is that they are gone along with all our treasure.”

  “I fear the humans are responsible.” At Jaron’s pinched brows, Rune sighed. He glanced at the door separating him from Cat. “A staff washed up on shore some time ago. Cat mentioned the find should’ve warranted an investigation, but she could not find any reports about the discovery. She said if the local authorities knew about it, the staff should’ve been catalogued and put on display in a museum. From what she described of these places, it is clear humans hoard artifacts too.”

  “But the gods are not objects.”

  Rune pinched the bridge of his nose. Guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders. After they’d imprisoned the eldjötnar, it had been his suggestion the remaining Wardens embrace the same death-sleep the gods had succumbed to. The demons had to be guarded and the endless days of solitude had worn on their sanity. Mindless slumber had seemed the perfect solution. Yet, without their interactions with the humans, they’d been forgotten.

  “No, not objects, but what do you think a society that no longer believes in the gods would do if they found perfectly preserved bodies?”

  Jaron cursed. “No. They wouldn’t be that foolish as to disturb them. They might not believe but surely they’d treat the dead with respect.”

  “Cat came to our homeland in search of answers to the deaths caused by the eldjötnar. Alone, Jaron. No male to protect her. She came with her electronics and supplies to collect blood and tissue samples from the villagers.” Rune paused a moment and let the words sink in.

  Jaron’s eyes widened.

  “Yes, humans of this age study things they do not understand. A perfectly preserved body would fit in that category.” Rune thought back on all the things he’d learned from his consort and hated the conclusion he came up with. “Cat does such things. She has conducted experiments to discover the mechanics of the virus and has vowed to stop it. There are others like her. Whole institutions. All of them filled with humans who believe in science, not myth. Not us. Not the gods.”

  “Fuck.”

  Rune nodded. “Yes, brother. Fuck is right. And if they decided to dissect their gods, we are all screwed.”

  * * * * *

  Cat pressed her forehead to the tiled wall. Water pelted her back. Steam rose around her. It loosened her stiff muscles and heated her skin. She enjoyed the warmth, but the comfort of the hot shower did nothing to alleviate her anxiety.

  “I fucked a vampire. Twice. Even after knowing what he was.” She squeezed her eyelids tight. “Maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s just crazy.”

  A bitter laugh escaped. The only unstable person here was her. She believed him. Every last word he’d uttered rang true. Foolish as it was, she felt as if she had already heard the story and he had merely rekindled the memory. Possibly, she had. She’d taken other classes in college—archeology, ancient religions and Medieval history. She didn’t remember much from them, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t retained the knowledge. The mind worked in mysterious ways. The tale he’d told might’ve lain dormant. She could accept that explanation.

  The rationalization didn’t explain her reaction to Rune. One glance into his eyes and her willpower fizzled. She wanted him—his cock in her core, his lips on hers and his strong arms wrapped around her waist. He made her feel safe, desired and respected. She knew better, of course. The man was a vampire, not someone she should want to snuggle with at night.

  But he wasn’t a bloodsucker, was he? Not in the way she’d always viewed the mythological creature anyway.

  He claimed to be a child of the mist, one of a species necessary for the earth’s death and rebirth. He also said they were evolving to meet the challenges of the modern world.

  Evolution made sense. It was a concept she could grasp. In light of that bit of knowledge, their attraction made perfect sense. He was driven to make the next generation of his species. His presence no doubt triggered her primal drives too. Pheromones, her original guess, caused her fascination. She’d read numerous papers detailing it. Human and animal sexuality had always fascinated her, but she never would’ve guessed she’d be caught in a case of mating frenzy.

  She pressed a hand to her lower belly. “Thank God I’m on birth control.”

  The man might be a walking sex god. It didn’t mean she wanted to carry his kids. She didn’t have time to care for a pet, let alone a baby. The thought sent a twinge of guilt through her. It wasn’t that she didn’t want children. She did. She just didn’t want them anytime soon.

  She also wasn’t sure she wanted anything permanent. Rune’s vow to treasure her, despite their romanticism of it, wasn’t one she could indulge in. Or was it?

  She groaned. The man made her question everything. She hated the uncertainty. Breathing room, that’s what I need. A few hours alone to think.

  The idea took hold. The rightness of it grew. If Rune was controlling her, unintentionally or not, distance from him would give her an answer. She also wanted to talk to Ivan and look through his books that described the local legends. The more details she had, the better choices she could make. God knew she needed that. Information was power, at least by her standards.

  She hopped out of the shower, dressed and rushed into the main room. Rune and Jaron’s mumbled voices drifted in from outside. She glanced at the door. Shit. Not getting out that way. She’d have to sneak out. She snagged her blade, put her computer and phone in her backpack and slipped it on but left her jacket. The hotel wasn’t far and she didn’t want Rune to know she’d left. He’d come after her. He’d been adamant she not leave him.

  At the bed, she spread the pillows and yanked the blanket over them to give the impression she slept under the mound of quilts. A pang of guilt hit her. He’d be angry. She shoved the emotion away. She had more important things to worry about than his feelings or hers.

  The window stuck. She wiggled it up and dragged herself through the opening. Years of sneaking out of her parents’ house had perfected the art. She might’ve been the top of her class, but she hadn’t been antisocial, thanks to Janice. A year older, she’d included Cat in all her escapades.

  She landed with a soft thump and waited, frozen in place. No yelling. No running feet. She held her blade loosely and scanned the area. No movement. No scary monsters. She closed the window behind her and ran.

  A few hundred feet from the hotel, a man stepped from the shadows. Black shirt, jeans and hair—he blended in to the dark. His lips lifted in an amused
grin. White, straight teeth shown starkly against his deeply tanned face. No fangs, but something about him made her want to turn around and run back to Rune’s side. She resisted. It would be foolish. She’d never outrun the guy.

  Maybe leaving Rune hadn’t been the best choice. Too late for regrets. Chin raised, she tightened her grip on her blade.

  He slid his gaze to her hand and chuckled. “Afraid someone’s going to attack you, little lady?”

  A thick accent she couldn’t place twisted his words. Fear slithered down her spine in a tremor that shook her body. She ignored it and straitened her shoulders.

  “People have been dying. They say the eldjötnar have risen hungry.” She purposely used the fire demons’ name to judge his reaction. Was he one? Or just a local?

  “Is that what they say?” He raised a brow. “And do they like to dine on beautiful women?”

  Janice, her older sister’s face, flashed before her eyes. Tears made the guy’s face blurry. She blinked the sheen away. “Yes.”

  “Then you’d best stay inside with your man.” He rubbed his chin. The grin on his face turned into a sneer. “Of course, they say the Wardens harbor the same hunger.”

  “Wardens?” The question slipped out before she thought better of it.

  He nodded and took a step toward her. “Mist and fire are two sides of the same coin. Only a flip separates them.”

  Her heart pounded hard. She raised her knife. “Who are you?”

  “The one who can give you answers.”

  He took another step. She matched it backward. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

  “One of whom?”

  Her hand shook. She held it out in front of her anyway. “The eldjötnar.”

  He laughed. “I’ve been called many things, but I’ve never been accused of dining on beautiful women. I know who you are, though.” He licked his lips. “What you are.”

  That got her attention. “And what am I?”

  He slid his hands into his pockets. “You are a treasure, Catherine, one that can’t fall into the wrong hands.”

  Catherine. Her heart skipped a beat. There were only two people in the world who called her by her birth name—Roland and Sam.

  “Did you know the Wardens hoard their treasure? They’ll do anything to keep their prize close. Anything, Catherine. Kill, lie, steal—nothing is above them, not when they set their sights on what they consider theirs.” He looked her up and down. Lust heated his eyes. “That’s all you are to him, a trophy. I can give you more. I can—”

  The hotel door flung open. The man turned and slipped into the night.

  “Miss Sanders?” Ivan’s concerned voice called out.

  She kept her attention on the spot where the man had disappeared and backed toward the light spilling out from the building behind her.

  Ivan draped a throw over her shoulders and ushered her inside. “What are you doing outside without a jacket on?”

  The question startled her more than seeing the creature she suspected was a fire demon. Ivan’s teeth chattered. Hers did not.

  “The fog is rolling in too. I think it might storm.”

  She glanced down at her feet. Wisps of white mist swirled around them.

  Oh God. Rune. It finally clicked. He controlled the mist. The wind, the icy doorknob, the frosty air around them when they’d had sex—he’d been the source. She peered in the direction of his home, expecting to see him stalking toward her. A dog scurried from a lopsided shed. Nothing else moved.

  Ivan closed the door blocking her view of Rune’s small house.

  “Are you okay?”

  Ivan stood there in a robe, pajamas and slippers. His concerned eyes focused on her.

  “I’m fine.”

  Movement caught her eye. She glanced at the haze trickling in through the cracks around the doorjamb and swallowed hard. It rolled in slow waves along the ground as if it were seeking her out. She backed toward the stairs.

  “Do you see that?” She pointed at the fog.

  “What?”

  “The—” The mist dissipated before her eyes. She dropped her hand and scrambled backward. Her feet hit the bottom stair. She grabbed the banister. “Nothing.”

  She swallowed hard. Rune can’t take me out of the hotel. It’ll cause a scene. I’m safe.

  She wasn’t so sure she believed her rationalization. It beat the fear threatening to overwhelm her, though. She took a deep breath. Focus. I need to focus on the reason I came here. “May I see those books on the eldjötnar?”

  “Of course. Let me wake my wife. She’ll draw you a warm bath and make you tea while I collect them from the attic.”

  “That’s not necessary. Show me where they are and I’ll get them myself.”

  Ivan shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t think of it. It’s dirty and cold up there. I’ll get them right now.” He motioned to the gathering room. “At least come in and sit by the fire.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. If Rune could control the fog, the eldjötnar would own fire and use it as they wanted.

  “No!” She pressed a hand to her pounding chest. “I’ll wait in my room. Will you hurry please?”

  “Certainly. You’re at the top of the stairs.” He dug a key out of his pocket and handed it to her.

  She snagged it and fled to the relative safety of her room. It only took a few minutes for Ivan to return.

  Her eyes widened at the armful of ancient books he held. They looked as if they belonged in a museum. Her fingers itched to get her hands on the find.

  “Here you go.” He stacked them on the nightstand. “Are you sure you don’t want me to have tea sent up?”

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you for these.” She couldn’t tear her gaze from them.

  The door closed and she rushed to the pile. Most were written in languages she couldn’t read. She groaned. Really, what did she expect? The largest tome, however, was one she could understand. She snatched it and made her way to the desk.

  She set up a mini-workstation. Internet search results for Norse myths showed on her computer. Her smartphone had another screen highlighting articles on Greenland’s archeological discoveries. On her lap, the leather-bound book was opened to the page detailing Ragnarok.

  Multitasking helped her focus. She needed that. Too many things had happened in the last few days. Everything she’d always held true had taken a hit.

  She carefully turned the yellowed page and continued absorbing the tale. The myth detailed the regenerative cycle along with the events of the final battle down to who would kill whom. It reminded her of a historical tale, not a prophetic legend.

  A beep sounded, indicating a new message. She minimized the internet and opened her email.

  Call me now—Sam.

  The cost of the call would kill her budget. She didn’t care. She snatched her phone, turned it on and dialed. It rang once.

  “Holy fuck, Catherine, you stumbled on a goddamn epic find.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The staff that washed up on shore was part of a cache found by American military during World War II near Iceland. After the war, scientists from our institute were involved in the search for more.”

  The sound of shuffling papers filled the line.

  “And?” She prompted when he didn’t say anything else.

  “And they found a hoard of treasure along with dozens of perfectly preserved bodies.”

  The eldjötnar.

  “Oh God.”

  “Exactly. Gods.” Sam chuckled. “Or more to the point, a bunch of ancient Norsemen who thought they were deities.”

  Her gaze drifted to the open page on Ragnarok. Rune’s voice repeated in her head. He’d said the gods had returned to their slumber.

  She gasped. No. It’s not possible. Dammit, hadn’t she said that numerous times over the past few days? Nothing was turning out to be impossible.

  “What happened to them?”

  “No clue. That was all I could find and if Rolan
d learns I hacked into his private accounts, I’m going to be in trouble.”

  She dismissed Sam’s concern. Roland overlooked a hell of a lot where his staff was concerned. Science was too important is his mind and those who understood its mysteries were valued despite their eccentricities.

  “We need to find them. They really are—”

  A shock zinged up her arm. She squeaked and dropped her phone. The door flew open. She pivoted. Rune stood in the open doorway dressed in jeans, no shoes or shirt, exactly as she’d left him.

  A wave of his hand and the lights went out. A sound of a door slamming reached her ears. His warm hand snaked around her waist. He tugged her against him and took her mouth on a fierce kiss.

  His anger radiated through the hard press of his lips, but so did a sense of desperation. He ran his hands down her back, over her ass and into her hair. A growl rumbled his chest. He pulled her closer.

  “My Cat, you’re alive. Thank God.” He whispered the words against her mouth before once more slipping his tongue between her parted lips.

  Not why did you leave or why did you disobey me. His first concern was for her safety.

  She pressed her chest to his and linked her arms around his neck. Any doubt she’d still clung to faded. She met him stroke for stroke.

  Finally, the wildness eased. Their kiss gentled. He made love to her mouth, twining their tongues and moaning his pleasure. The firm press of his hands turned to reverent caresses.

  She didn’t know how long they stood there locked in each other’s embrace. Time lost its meaning, even though she knew they didn’t have much. She had to tell him what Sam had learned, but nothing could’ve stopped her from enjoying Rune’s attention. It meant more than passion. Instinctually, she knew it and couldn’t resist. She gave herself to him, letting him support her body and knowing on some level he’d never allow her to fall.

  After a long moment, he broke the kiss and swung her into his arms. Glowing blue-gray eyes focused on her. “Did he touch you?”