by Gwen Rivers
Plans
More days drag by as I stare at the four walls of my cell. I do what prisoners have done since the beginning of incarceration. I work out. Though the medics who tend me warn not to overdo it—I had been shot recently and am expecting—I do sit-ups, planks, squats and lunges, mountain climbers and burpees. Freda will kick my flabby ass if I let jail soften me.
At night—or what passes for night as the Feds control even the lighting—I talk to Astrid. She has a funny quirky sense of humor. I tell her about my friends, about Freda and Nahini and Jasmine or Lady Jazz as Aiden calls her. My hair has grown out again, the white-blond now down past my chin, with the dyed black bits hanging past my shoulders. If I had something to cut it, I would.
“He sounds perfect,” Astrid interjects as I finish a story about the house Aiden had planned to build in the North Carolina Mountains.
“No one is perfect.” It has taken me a long time to come to terms with that.
“So were the two of you just going to live there, in the woods, all alone?”
I open my mouth to respond, then close it again without speaking. “I guess it was supposed to be more of a retreat. You know a vacation spot?”
“So where were you going to live?” she asks.
The Unseelie underground palace. Where the queen of the Shadow Throne always resides from Samhain to Beltane. “Wherever we had work.”
Would I have to kill Gretchen to get Fenrir off the throne? The thought sickens me. Even with the wolf at the helm, I still had liked Gretchen. She was innocent, much like Astrid. And like Astrid, she is paying the price for getting roped into our supernatural world.
“Tell me about you, Astrid.”
She is cautious, maybe even more paranoid than I am. While I think she believes me when I say I want to help her, she doesn’t seem to believe that I can. Or maybe that I will.
“What do you want to know?” she asks.
“You said you ran away. Were your parents…bad?” Did you kill them?
“Foster parents. I’ve never had the real kind.”
“An orphan then?” My heart lurches as I think of the blonde woman on the beach.
“Something like that. Being placed in a house doesn’t make it a home, you know.” Her tone is hard and unyielding.
“Wasn’t there anyone there you liked?”
She gnaws on her thumbnail. “There was one boy, Declan. He was only there for a few months though. His mom got out of rehab and he went back to live with her.”
“What did Declan look like?” I ask.
“I thought he was a giant.”
I blink and then, realize she isn’t talking about the kinds of giants I knew. She just means large for a mortal.
“He told me how it happened. A neighbor had called to report shouts from their apartment. I guess one of his mother’s boyfriends had knocked her around. Declan came home from school and beat the hell out of the guy.”
“How old was he?”
Astrid shifts, I can hear the creak of her bedsprings. “Probably around fifteen. He was big for his age though. The cops came and took him into custody. They were going to send him to Juvie for assault, but his lawyer got him off. He had only been protecting his mother. She had to get clean though before he could go home. It took her about six months, then she came and got him.”
“And he was your friend?” It seemed odd to me that a large boy with serious anger issues would look after a delicate flower-like Astrid.
“He was the best friend I ever had. He would take me down to the river, teach me how to fish. Sometimes we would just sit together.” Her expression is soft.
Astrid, who loves to hear about love had already given her young heart away.
“And so he went home with his mom and they lived happily ever after?”
Her gaze darted away. “I never heard from him again. That was a few weeks before Agent Hanson picked me up.”
Which didn’t mean her gift hadn’t told her exactly what had happened to her friend. I don’t pry though. If Astrid wanted to tell me, she would. I glean some insights from her tale. Declan had been important to her. The oversized boy who would fight off a full-grown man to protect his mother, the drug addict. And that the longest connection Astrid has ever had with anyone is a few measly weeks.
“Astrid, tell me what it is you can do. Why are you here?”
“I’m a freak.” She whispers the words that jab a cold shard right into my heart.
“I can kill with a kiss.” It’s a leap, trusting this stranger. Gods know I have never benefited from demonstrating trust before. You have to give a little to get a little. It’s what Addy always said about the injured animals that were brought to her veterinary clinic. They won’t bite or scratch me if I don’t hurt them first.
Addy had plenty of practice gentling wild beasts.
“You can?” Astrid’s eyes go wide. “You’ve actually killed people?”
“I call it the goodnight kiss.” Briefly, I tell her about being found in the Black Forest, how I’d accidentally killed that hiker. I leave the Norns and the fey out of my tale. If she’s anything like I’d been, her brain won’t process all that exists beyond the Veil without seeing it.
Hell, I’m still trying to understand it.
She lets out a breath. “So that’s why you’re here. You killed a bunch of people who attacked you?”
“And a few who hurt young children. I guess I’m a vigilante. Like your Declan.” At least I thought I was before seeing the ripple of destruction my actions had caused.
Astrid is back to working on her nail.
“Do you believe me?”
Blue-gray eyes take me in. “I do. I’m not sure why, but you don’t sound like a liar.”
“So, tell me what it is you can do.” She’s given hints, that she knows my baby is a girl, that she can see things, but I need more detail if I am to figure out how much I should tell her about the Norns.
“Someone’s coming.” Astrid scrambles to her feet.
Footsteps stop outside our door and then it is pushed inward. I turn to face the hazmat suited guards.
One steps forward, a bag in hand. He isn’t moving toward me though, but reaches for Astrid.
“What is this?” I snap, pushing up off the floor until I am standing between the two of them.
“Back off, now.” The guard blocking the doorway levels that weird gizmo that is sort of like a Taser at me. “Hands up, or we’ll gas both of you.”
I swallow and then raise my hands. Goon two steps forward again, reaching for Astrid. Her gaze darts to me as if she’s looking for reassurance. “Nic,” her voice cracks.
“It’s okay,” I tell her, praying that I’m not lying. “It’ll be fine.”
Then my hands are bound behind my back, the hated hood coming down over my face. I am frog-marched out into the hall beside Astrid. I want to say something to her, but I don’t know what.
“Where are you taking us?” My words come out muffled. Are we on the verge of the rescue Angrboda promised me?
“Walk.” The terse reply is accompanied by a sharp jab in the lower back.
Prick.
Side by side with my new friend, we are led around twists and turns until we reach an elevator. More guards join us, eight in total. All armed to the teeth. I can’t tell if any of them are Hanson, but she’s never bothered with the hazmat gear.
The elevator is too small to fit our entire entourage, so Astrid and her four guards go first. When the empty car returns, I step inside without a fight.
The concrete slab where we disembark leads to a warehouse of sorts. Cracked and fogged glass let in a little natural light, but it’s so much better than the recycled air I’ve been ingesting. Hanson’s lair is underground. Ahead of me, I see Astrid, still unbound, still surrounded by a wall of guards.
Not FBI, I realize with a start. Maybe it’s the fresh air working on my brain for the first time in a while but I realize that while Hanson may be FBI, the rest of he
r team is made up of hired thugs.
We push outside into a hardscrabble dirt parking area. I wince at the brightness of real sunlight reflecting off the snow. I inhale all the way down to my toes, picking up the crisp scent of winter. It’s almost too bright after the artificial darkness of the past few days.
One of the thugs jabs me again in my lower back. That’s going to bruise.
We walk as a unit toward a large blue panel van, like the one they had transported me in. From my angle, I can’t see the plates, no idea what state we’re in. Still no FBI logo. Whatever this is, it’s not an obvious operation.
The tall trees are a mix of evergreen and deciduous. I want to scan the area for any sign of Chloe and Angrboda. They knew this would happen, that I’d be moved. Where are they?
Astrid is shoved roughly into the van, where she is secured. I’m up next, but have trouble balancing with my hands bound behind me. I fall and go down to one knee. One of the guards jerks me up roughly by the hair. Tears spring into my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. Not yet. I need help, I can’t take out eight of them on my own.
The guard hauls me to the seat next to Astrid and shackles me in place.
I suck in as much fresh air as I can through my hood before the guards shut the door. Three left, one in back with us and his wicked-looking weapon that may or may not be a Taser. Two upfront on the other side of the mesh webbing. A driver and another, both heavily armed.
Soon. I’ll be free soon. And I will free Astrid as well. Because regardless of what else she is, she’s become my friend.
And I don’t leave friends behind.
The van travels down a dirt road. Having grown up in a rural area, I know the jounce from trucking over potholes at a good clip. The ride to the facility is foggy, filled with pain and shock. No landmarks, just trees, snow and more trees. I tap my toe against the floor. I see the guard frown down at my bare feet.
“What?” I mumble through my mask.
He looks away, as though unsettled.
Yeah, well your bosses took my shoes and gave me nothing else. So here I am, barefoot and pregnant. I shift on the seat, trying to ease my discomfort.
“Settle down,” he snaps as though the reality of my situation makes him uncomfortable.
Freedom is at hand—I can feel it in my bones. Eagerness courses through me. I am ready to move on to the next phase, to find Aiden and my friends. I haven’t figured out what I will do with Astrid but one thing at a time. She will be safe we all will be….
The thunderous boom accompanies an explosion of earth. Flying dirt pelts the side of the van. Another massive reverberation knocks us all to the right. Then the van is rolling, rolling, down an incline of some sort.
My head hits the side and blackness consumes me.
“Nic,” Aiden shoots up in bed, sweat soaking the twisted sheets. His heartrate thunders and her winter apple scent is stuck in his nose as though her head had been on the pillow beside him.
So real. It had been a dream. He knows it had. Her bound and gagged in the back of a mortal vehicle. But it had felt real. Felt as though she were hurt, bleeding.
Their bond, their connection, couldn’t cross the Veil. He knew this and yet…
“Help,” he calls out, not sure who he’s summoning. No one living in Asgard would help him, not the cursed son of the trickster, and yet he feels as though someone is nearby.
“I need to get to her. Please,” he implores.
“Then do as Freya wishes,” a sibilant voice hisses.
Aiden jerks his head to the side. “Who are you?”
The creature, for it is no god, smiles. “A serpent in the garden.”
“Wrong pantheon.” Aiden tosses the covers off and climbs out of bed. “How did you get in here?”
“The same way you did, I imagine. Your friends are looking for you, wondering what happened.”
“You crossed from Underhill?”
His companion bobs its head in what Aiden assumes is a nod.
“A dwarf.” He sits back and studies the being anew. Dwarves are typically considered separate from the fey. Their bodies twisted from the dark magic they practice to create their great weapons and impressive gifts. This being has some snakelike features but it also had hands, with fingers like thick sausages. It wears garments that are mostly rags.
“My name is Grendel,” the creature shuffles to the right. “I am her magnanimous supreme delightfulness’s appointed jeweler. And it would serve your interests if you would sire a child on the goddess of love and beauty.”
“And create another monster?” Aiden shakes his head. “Think I’ll pass.”
“What’s one more?” Grendel’s long face contorts. “The world is full of monsters, Váli Sigynjarson.”
He goes still at that. “You know my true name?”
“I know many things about you.” Its thin-lipped smile causes all the wolf’s hackles to rise.
“You won’t help me escape? Even though you know of my mate’s need?”
It tilts its serpentine head to the side. “I might be persuaded…for a price.”
And this is what the fey and the dwarves have in common. Their penchant for bargains and love of getting one over on a being in need.
He’d be a fool to trust this dwarf.
But Harmony refuses to help. Freya’s price is too high. What other option does he have?
“Can you get me across the Veil? Not to Underhill but to Midgard directly?”
“I can, but it will cost even more.”
“Cost what?” Aiden asks. “And don’t say my firstborn.”
“What use would I have with a wolf pup?” The dwarf scoffs. It twists, showing its gnarled back beneath its baggy clothing. “No wolf. If you won’t give the goddess what she wants, then allow me to do it.”
Aiden’s lips part. “Excuse me?”
“Give me three drops of your blood. One for transformation, one for the sight and one for the fire of your heart. I will go to her supreme excellence in your stead and impregnate her. It’s the only way.”
Aiden hesitates. “How long will this transformation last?”
Again with the thin-lipped smile. “Long enough for my purposes.”
There’s an idea. Allow the great goddess to bed down with a lowly dwarf. When the scandal of her heir’s parentage is known, the gods would make her the laughingstock of Asgard. The shame would never diminish.
“Only if you promise me one thing.” He hesitates. “Any product of your union will not be harmed. Not by the dwarves or the goddess.”
Animals learned to eat their young from the dwarves. And much like the American Indians, the small subset of mythical beings frugally uses every bit of their prey. Bones, skin, hair… Aiden doubts he’d be able to live with himself if he imposed that sort of hell on an innocent being.
“I cannot attest to what the goddess will do when she learns she’s been deceived, but I vow to all the golden riches in Midgard that no dwarf will ever harm my son.”
“Agreed.” Aiden holds out his hand.
The creature immediately sinks one of its dirty nails into Aiden’s palm. He hisses but the pain is rapidly replaced by a burning sensation. The forked tongue slips from the creature’s mouth. Aiden balls his hand into a fist and squeezes. One two and on the third drop, the dwarf begins to shimmer.
Just then the door swings in. “Aiden? I saw the light.”
Fast as he can manage, Aiden sprints to cover Harmony’s mouth. To stifle her scream. She thrashes in his grip but he doesn’t relent.
When he looks over, the dwarf has turned into an exact replica of him. It isn’t the first time Aiden has beheld his double, but the experience is as uncanny as ever.
The dwarf waves his hand and the air shimmers. Once more the tang of magic burns his nose.
“Will you leave her here?” The dwarf tips his head to study Harmony.
Aiden doesn’t like the way the creature eyes the seer. It’s one thing to trick Freya, who demands
the impossible. But he can’t leave Harmony unconscious at the creature’s mercy.
“She comes with me.”
Grendel dips his head. “Looking out for family at last.”
“Family?” Aiden starts.
The creature blinks at him. “Why your sister, of course.”
Aiden shakes his head. “I don’t have a sister.”
The dwarf tilts his head. “Are you sure of that, Váli Sigynjarson? You’re sure your mother was not expecting another child at the time of the trickster’s capture?”
Aiden’s chest seizes up. “A baby?” His mother had been pregnant? “That can’t be. She’s fey.”
“Her most exalted beauty hid the girl under the hill to keep her safe from the gods who were still wrathful against the line of Loki. She looks like one of them, but is a goddess of Asgard.”
All the breath rushes from Aiden’s lungs. He looks down at the seer’s purple face. Can it be true?
“Váli?” The clip-clopping of heels approaches.
“We must go,” Grendel beckons him forward. “Before she discovers the duplicity.”
Aiden tosses Harmony over one shoulder in a fireman’s carry. His gaze goes to the mantle where the ruby dragon egg sits. Without a thought he snatches it and puts it in his pocket. There is a popping sound and then the dwarf snags his hand. The three vanish into the night.
Escape
Astrid screams as she stares through the front window. A sense of weightlessness comes over us as the van is lifted up into the air.
And a giant eye peers into the front windshield at us. An eye the size of a beachball.
“It’s okay,” I say to Astrid. “Really. She’s a friend.”
Well, sort of.
Shots ring out as the armed passenger guard aims to take the giantess, out. The rifle shakes in his hands. He is pants-pissing terrified, and I don’t blame him. I’ve seen a giant at full size before but the sight is still unnerving. She can crush us like bugs. Might do so by accident if she isn’t careful.