Monster Born (Northern Creatures Book 1)

by Kris Austen Radcliffe

  She leaned forward so I could pull the items from the small pocket at the base.

  “Get help,” I said. I didn’t like how Maura continued to bleed. “And get somewhere safe.”

  Dag grunted. “We are in the safest place in Alfheim. I do not believe it will do us any good to run away.”

  She drew a small circle on the side of Maura’s nose. The bleeding slowed. Dag looked up at me. “Be careful, my adopted son. Be vigilant. And do what you must.”

  I bowed my head. “Thank you,” I said. “I will.”

  I ran for the exit to the real world.

  I hit the key fob as I staggered into the parking lot. The SUV whooped and the lights flashed—at least Brother hadn’t thought to trash all the vehicles in the lot.

  I had the axe. Was returning to Rose’s Hill for the dagger a waste of time? Arne might know. I dialed Dag’s phone as I started the SUV.

  Arne answered. “Where the hell have you been?” he said.

  “Me or your wife, Odinsson?” I answered. “Tell me you have Akeyla with you.”

  “I do.” Arne paused. “Speak.”

  I pulled the SUV out onto the road and headed in the general direction of Rose’s Hill and the open forest Gerard said the wolves would run this full moon. “The vampire is my brother.”

  No discernable noise crossed the connection. For a second, I wondered if he’d hung up.

  “How is such a thing possible?” he asked.

  “Arne, he threatened to come after Akeyla.” It was already night. Brother could move around Alfheim without restriction. “He hurt Maura and Dag. I told them to get medical attention.”

  I put the phone on speaker and dropped it into the cup holder so I could keep my hands on the steering wheel, even if my damaged arm continued to throb.

  “How badly? You left my wife and daughter unprotected?”

  I rubbed my face. What to say? Arne needed to keep his wits about him—and to make sure he stayed with his granddaughter.

  But he also needed to stay with the wolves. The last thing Alfheim needed was for Brother to thrall one of the new wolves. A thralled wolf might lose control and rip apart a mundane—which would cause even more chaos on which my brother could feed.

  Arne’s old ways of thinking about the women were not helping.

  “By Odin’s plucked-out eyeball, you are one rightful bastard, aren’t you?” I grumbled.

  “What did you say, Frank?” he grumbled back.

  I turned onto the main road and increased the SUV’s speed. “I need to stop my brother. You need to protect Akeyla. Dag and Maura are fine but they cannot help because they need medical attention.” Arne did not take well to direct orders. Not from me. Not from his wife. And certainly not from the other Kings.

  Yet he’d rolled his daughter and granddaughter under that bus.

  “Maura and Akeyla cannot go back to Hawaii. No elf should force them to go, no matter the politics. This is not Medieval Norway.” Nor was it the continental European time in which my father sewed me together—or the time in which he so stupidly reconstructed a vampire.

  A vampire who could move in and out of The Land of the Dead. One more vicious than any vampire I’d ever dealt with in the past. One primal and demonic, yet worldly.

  “He wants to destroy the elves,” I said. “Don’t fall into his traps.”

  “Akeyla is safe.” That’s all Arne said. Nothing else. No response to my other words. Only Akeyla is safe.

  Which made me think that she was not. “Where is she?”

  “With me. With the wolves.”

  Who were about to take their wolf forms for the night. “How is that safe?” Running with the wolves was complicated. A lot went into the preparation, and though Akeyla often waited in The Great Hall, Arne had not yet allowed her out in the woods with twenty-odd werewolves, some of whom were still novices.

  “This is our best option.”

  Perhaps he was correct. Perhaps the threat of the wolves would be enough to keep Brother away from Akeyla.

  Or perhaps he’d use the chaos to flicker in and snatch her away.

  “My brother pulled me into The Land of the Dead,” I said. “He can move in and out at will. He could appear any place at any second.”

  I let the fact sink in that Arne’s brazen use of his magic to destroy any possible portal had not worked.

  “Ed said he has an aversion to light,” Arne said.

  “Yes,” I said. “Though he appeared inside The Hall’s enchantment during daylight.”

  Arne swore. “He’s using in-place enchantments to filter?” He swore again. “We are not dealing with a normal vampire.”

  I turned off the main road onto the lane that would take me to the trail up to Rose’s Hill. “No, he is not.” Any more than I was a normal man.

  “And you say he is your… brother? How is that possible?”

  “He showed me. I’ll explain once we have this situation under control.”

  “This situation is already out of hand,” Arne responded. “It’s bigger than Akeyla. It involves all of Alfheim.” He paused again. “First the video. Now your neighbors claim they have video of you murdering a man on their beach.”

  My stomach jumped. I’d forgotten about the neighbors. “Does Ed have them under control?” If they had video, it might not show what they think it did. “They were thralled,” I said.

  “That’s what Ed said. He impounded their phones, but they’re lawyers. They’re causing a stink.” Arne sounded as if he rubbed his forehead.

  Of course they were. “My brother probably picked them specifically because he understood the level of impact they could make,” I said. “He seems well-versed on how to manipulate modern mundanes.”

  Arne humphed. “Can you draw him out?”

  I didn’t know. I’d never tried. “I hope so,” I said. “I have a weapon.” I glanced at the elven “gloves” on my hands. “I’m picking up another. Where should I meet you?”

  A low howl echoed across the connection.

  I looked out the windshield at the bright, round moon.

  The first wolves were changing.

  “Akeyla!” Arne yelled. “Come here!” Noise rustled.

  “Uncle Frank?” she said. “Grandpa says we don’t have to go right away and I get to be with Jax when he changes.”

  She sounded more excited than she should have, and I wondered what Arne had told her about why she got to stay with her friend.

  “That’s good, honey,” I said. “Promise me you will stay right next to your grandfather, okay? I mean right with him. He needs your help.”

  “But he’s mean, Uncle Frank.”

  Whatever he’d said hadn’t calmed her anger. “Well, yes he is, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t help him tonight.”

  “He goes out with the wolves every full moon,” she said. “He was going to drop us at the airport and drive back to be with the wolves because he does this all the time.”

  “Tonight’s special,” I said. “Okay?”

  “Do you need my help, Grandpa?” she asked.

  “I do, Akeyla,” Arne said in the background.

  “If you send me back I will never help you again,” she said.

  I held in a laugh. Leave it to Akeyla to put Arne Odinsson in his place.

  “Akeyla!” he snapped.

  “I second the kid, Arne,” I said. Best not to threaten the Elf King of Alfheim, but sometimes the man needed to understand how his actions affected others.

  “Where are you headed?” Arne was changing the subject.

  “Rose’s Hill,” I said.

  “Call again when you are ready to meet us.”

  He hung up.

  I turned onto the trail toward a wooden dagger I hoped was the magic I needed to end the horror that was my brother.

  Chapter 27

  I checked the SUV glove compartment for a flashlight, then checked the back for a toolbox. I found nothing useful, which left me with the phone’s light.<
br />
  The battery sat at about half. I’d need to be careful. Calls out were just as important as seeing where I stepped. With the full moon, I’d be able to see. But without a bright, direct source of light, my brother could appear at any time.

  Or in any place.

  I left the SUV running and the headlights glaring, and walked toward the step where I’d hidden the dagger.

  Dag had seemed upset by it, but I hadn’t seen any anti-elf magic. But then again, I saw no magic around Brother, either.

  Perhaps the dagger was as cloaked as he was.

  I lifted off the stone. The dagger waited right where I’d left it. I reached to pick it up… and I couldn’t. I couldn’t touch it.

  The gloves wouldn’t let me.

  I looked at my hands. “Could you, this once?” I asked.

  The magic around my palms clicked and twirled. I tried again to pick up the dagger, and again, I couldn’t lift it.

  The gloves whirled as if they were actual machinery. Soft blues and greens lifted off my skin and the magic of the gloves took on a reddish glow. This time I got the sense that I’d be able to lift the dagger.

  It released from the soil with an audible pop. I flipped it over. The underside looked the same. No marks, and the center shaft of liquid looked undamaged.

  “What are you?” I asked it. The blade, of course, did not answer. I looked over my shoulder. Would the axe react the same way as the gloves? Dag’s responses suggested it might not be a good idea to set them next to each other.

  “I hope it was worth retrieving you,” I said. I walked back toward the SUV and wrapped the dagger in a towel I’d found in the back, then set it down next to the axe.

  They moved apart as if pushed by magnets.

  I reached for the axe… and couldn’t pick it up.

  “This is not good,” I said to the gloves. The magic had responded to my voice; maybe it would this time, too. “Can you turn blue again?”

  The gloves whirred. Sigils lifted. And they changed back to blue—except this time, a slight purple haze hung around the magic’s lines and curves.

  I picked up the axe and swung it left, then right, checking its balance one more time. My shoulder continued to throb, but mobility had returned, so if needed, I could attack from either side. The axe balanced well, and slid through the air with an ease only an elf-made weapon had.

  I set it down and pulled out Dag’s phone.

  “Meet us at your place,” Arne said, and hung up.

  Our last conversation must have taken all the talk out of Arne Odinsson. I closed the rear of the SUV and made my way to the driver’s seat. From here, I’d need to drive by the lawyers’ chrome monstrosity.

  I turned the SUV around and made my way toward the lake.

  No call from Arne saying that my brother had appeared and attempted to snatch Akeyla. No attempt to attack me, either. I was beginning to wonder if wandering in and out of The Land of the Dead took an energy toll.

  And if so, how could I use it to my advantage?

  Thing was, I couldn’t see Brother’s magic. I couldn’t sense him. I didn’t have enough information about his powers to understand how he did what he did, much less how to utilize any vulnerabilities.

  “I was bored” did not give me a true motivation for his attacks, nor did “elves provide a challenge.” And why would he wait over a century before coming for me if my presence on this Earth angered him so?

  Either he had not known of my existence, or up until recently, he hadn’t cared.

  Or perhaps his sense of time was distorted. What seemed like moments in The Land of the Dead were much longer in reality.

  I doubted I would know, and not knowing the details of an enemy added a fog to planning. I would rather not take that chance.

  Perhaps I would get lucky. Perhaps the dagger in his heart and the elf blade taking off his head would put an end to my brother and all his bits.

  I slowed as I approached the road around the lake. To the left, my house. To the right, the lawyers’ chrome behemoth. Directly ahead, a small break in the trees that allowed me to see the still water.

  I’d be home in about five minutes; perhaps Arne had an understanding I lacked. I just hoped he would listen to reason.

  The SUV bounced over a pothole. The headlights dipped for a split second.

  Brother appeared directly in front of the vehicle.

  I slammed on the brakes. The SUV corkscrewed around the pothole—one front tire dropped into the hole while all the others slid.

  Brother pushed.

  I felt the wave of magic. No color changes. No visual signs. Just a pressure wave on my eardrums lowering the pitch of the world, plus a thrust back and to the side.

  The SUV flipped as if I’d hit that pothole at sixty miles an hour.

  The vehicle tumbled over. What had been up became down and what had been down became up. My head swayed and my hands came off the steering wheel. Then up became up again and the SUV slammed into a massive pine.

  My protection spells ballooned outward like magical airbags.

  The pine’s trunk cracked against the rear passenger side door. The SUV cracked right along with it, and if I hadn’t had on my seatbelt, I would have cracked against the windshield, spells or not.

  In the back, a whine rose from the tumbling axe and dagger.

  I knew what was about to happen. I don’t know how, but I understood that the blast about to come from the back of the SUV would be significantly worse than Brother throwing the vehicle at a tree.

  “Wait until he gets close!” I yelled and unbuckled my seatbelt. The door wouldn’t open. I kicked, and it budged. I kicked again.

  The whine grew in pitch.

  The door flew open. Brother reached in and grabbed me around the neck. “You and I have—”

  The bolt of full-spectrum magic that exploded off the touching axe and dagger filled the entire area with a blindingly bright flash.

  My brother screamed. He dropped his hold and staggered away from the SUV.

  The scar on his cheek and neck glowed like a lightning bolt. Light flooded up behind his ear and into his black hair. It flowed down his neck and glowed brightly enough that I saw it through his suit of ash.

  My brother, the monster built of vampire parts, roared.

  He dropped to his knees. “I was going to torture her,” he growled. “I was going to suck her all the other miserable citizens of this pathetic little backwater dry in front of you and your pitiable need for love and family.”

  He touched his chest as the magic from his bolt-scar faded. “But now I think I’ll just snap her neck.”

  He vanished.

  “No, no, no…” I patted my pockets. No phone.

  It was in the SUV. I scrambled back and crawled in, patting at the seats and the floor before finding the phone under the passenger seat.

  “Arne!” I yelled when he answered. “He just flipped my SUV. He’s coming for Akeyla. He’ll snatch her. Keep her close!”

  In the background, Akeyla screamed.

  And directly ahead, across the road and through the small break in the trees, a shadow—a hole in the world—ran across the water toward the Carlson house.

  Chapter 28

  The dagger, once again, would not allow me to pick it up. I grabbed the towel and tried with the fabric between the dagger and my hand; this time, I could hold it long enough to wrap it and place it in my waistband.

  The axe also seemed to be tired and cranky, but it allowed me to hold onto its handle and walk with it, as long as I carried it on the shoulder opposite the dagger.

  “What did you two do?” I asked, not expecting an answer.

  I got one. Not a spoken one, but I knew in the same way I had known they were about to flash magic: They were not compatible, but they agreed on their purpose. That agreement allowed them to channel their incompatibility into a shared action.

  The axe and the dagger had a full-fledged “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” truce
happening. But I was also never to touch them together again. The truce only went so far.

  “I’m glad you two came to an understanding,” I said, as I jogged onto the road. Both of my shoulders ached now, as did my right leg, but nothing was broken, and I could move.

  I ran toward the Carlson house.

  I had no idea if Brother had hurt Arne. After Akeyla screamed, the connection died. But I’d yet to see him or his car.

  My focus needed to be Akeyla. I’d worry about Arne later.

  I rounded the bend into the driveway and parking area on the land side of the Carlson house. A huge dumpster sat off to the side in front of a stand-alone three-car garage. The moon hit the smaller building’s metal siding and the entire gravel parking area in front of the house glowed with a harsh, blue light.

  They were here. They had to be. The silence around the building was as eerie as the reflected moonlight and meant only one thing—a vampire.

  The axe vibrated, and for a second my body reacted as if I had my cell phone on my shoulder. I looked up at the blade.

  Magic whipped around the head of the axe like a hive of angry pixies. Blues mingled with reds and purples. Greens burst from churning sigils. Pale yellows flickered.

  “I take it you’ve recharged?” I asked.

  It hadn’t so much recharged as become pissed off. On my belt, on the other side, the dagger didn’t do anything other than be.

  Where the axe felt alive, the dagger was more of an object, a thing made from something that used to be alive.

  “I’m going to have to use the dagger,” I said.

  The axe knew. And, somehow, promised to change my gloves when the moment arrived.

  But it would be the last time. Once the switch happened, there would be no switching back.

  “Let’s hope an elf shows up to help, then, huh?” I said.

  The axe agreed.

  I closed my eyes and listened. Something shuffled on the beach. And someone gagged.

  I ran around the house. No reason to be subtle or to think I would surprise Brother.

  My boots hit a softer area on the beach pebbles. I skidded around the corner of the house and out into the blasting glow of the full moon.