Into the Fire (The Unseelie Court Book 4)

by Gwen Rivers

  “No one has called in an escaped fugitive. That facility you were housed in? It’s supposedly undergoing renovation.”

  Which explained all of the construction equipment I’d seen when we exited the building. “Any idea where Hanson is now?”

  “No. In fact, I’d wager she’s holed up somewhere in the mountains, waiting for you to show up at the farm.”

  My head pounds. “What if Aiden comes back? The farm is the first place he’ll look for me.”

  “Váli isn’t stupid,” she reassures me. “His wolf instincts will let him know you’re not there.”

  “Chloe mentioned he was in Asgard.” I pose it casually.

  “That’s right.” Her tone is neutral.

  “Is he with Freya?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t spare my feelings, Angrboda. I already have Chloe doing that. I need real talk.”

  The giantess lets out a sigh. “Yes, he was with her, but not by choice.”

  “She’s holding him captive?”

  “Him and his sister.”

  I frown. “Aiden doesn’t have a sister.”

  “Up until yesterday, you didn’t have a brother.” She gestures toward the fort.

  I take a deep breath. “Why does Freya want him now?”

  “He’s the key for unbinding Loki. Underhill knows it. Fenrir knows it. And the gods know it.”

  I brush off a stump and sit. “Tell me about Fenrir.”

  She paces in front of me, her agitation plain. “What do you want to know?”

  “I guess, how is he in Gretchen? Is Gretchen really a person or has it been Fenrir all along?”

  She nods, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “Fenrir is bound by Gleipnir. You’ve read as much in the stories, I presume.”

  At my nod she continues, “Right, so what the stories don’t mention is that Fenrir is bound inside a mortal for the span of the mortal’s life. He’s there, like a passenger, though he can snag control for short bursts. Do things the mortals will have no memory of. But the Gleipnir will eventually reign him back in. Until now, he has been unable to make himself known to his host or anyone else.”

  That explained how Fenrir had killed our spy, Isolde, but Gretchen had no memory of doing so.

  “What changed?”

  “Gretchen crossed the Veil. In doing so, Fenrir moved to the foreground, essentially taking over. The girl you know is now the passenger with the wolf calling the shots.”

  I let out a breath. “Is there any way to separate them?”

  “Not without unbinding my son.” She taps one of her long nails against her teeth, an annoying habit. “But there may be a way to put Fenrir back in his less active role. If crossing the Veil unleashed him….”

  I follow her line of thinking. “Then bringing him back to Midgard might restrain him again. Any idea how we can coax him back here?”

  She shakes her head. “It will have to be done forcefully and by stealth. You can’t go, neither can I. Chloe can’t interfere and Jedda is at risk as well.”

  I nod and then look at her, this giantess who has risked so much to help me. “In case I haven’t said it yet, thank you. For coming to get me.”

  She looks away for a moment, then meets my gaze. “Figured I owed you after sending those Valkyries through and bartering magic with Wardon. I never should have trusted Freya.”

  I stop in my tracks and grip her arm hard. “Trust her how?”

  Angrboda flinches. “She said she wanted to protect Váli, that he wouldn’t return to Asgard unless you were dead. I felt I owed it to him since my relationship with his father is what tore his life apart.”

  My mind whirls at this reveal.

  “I only knew you by Nicneven’s reputation though. The Ice Bitch never would have accepted him as her mate the way you’ve done.”

  “You’re right, she wouldn’t have. But Aiden and my friends mean everything to me.” When I consider how cold and lonely my existence had been before them, I shiver in revulsion. “I didn’t know what I was missing. I let my goodnight kiss become my whole identity instead of just one part of the badass babe I am.”

  She grins at that and we fall into step, heading back toward the house. The worn cedar shingles have taken a severe beating from the coastal winds, but the lights glowing from within make the space inviting.

  A thought surfaces. “Freya appeared to me. Told me I had to kill Underhill with my goodnight kiss and Seelenverkäufer. Do you know anything about that?”

  Her jaw drops. “Nic you can’t.”

  I shake my head. “I was told my goodnight kiss could kill anything if I was intent on it.”

  But the giantess appears spooked. “Yes, but you wouldn’t just kill Pharaildis. You’d take her place as the new Underhill.”

  Legends from the Mist

  “Nic?” Garret removes his reading glasses when he spots me in the doorway. “Come for that tour I promised?”

  Truthfully, I don’t know why I’ve sought him out.

  Maybe because being near him, unlike Sophie or Tate, doesn’t make me feel guilty. Garret has my number—knows I am no good.

  Or maybe it’s something to do with the man himself. The calm energy that radiates off of him. He’s a barrier, I realize. As much as the giant sandbar that is the Outer Banks is a barrier between the peaceful tranquility of the inland waterway that is Sophie and Tate and the turbulent sea of my life.

  Sophie and Chloe are baking, Tate is watching cartoons and Angrboda and Jedda have taken off for lessons in what I can only assume is magic they don’t want the mortals to witness. Garret seems like the best source of distraction to keep me from losing my mind.

  I don’t want to be alone after hearing that the only way to kill my mother and stop the end of the world is to take her place in an immortal prison. I hated being locked up. And I remember all too well Pharaildis telling me what it was like to be her. To desire nothing, not food or drink, sex or sleep. She is endless and it had driven her mad.

  But do I fear my fate enough to let the rest of the world die?

  “Nic?” Garret asks again.

  “Yeah.” My voice is rough. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  He looks so normal, sitting behind a battered rolltop desk with papers strewn every which way. Clutter is a foreign concept to me. In the farmhouse, there’s a place for everything, even trash. Organized and precise. This place is as chaotic as the inside of my skull. The wall behind Garret’s head is all glass though, allowing him a premium view of the sound. The late afternoon sunlight reflects off the water with a golden glow.

  He smiles and gestures for me to come in. “This is something of a novelty for me. Sophie isn’t interested in my dusty old tomes and Tate’s too young. Let’s see, where should we start?”

  His boots hit the floor with a dull thump and he rises to his full height, his head nearly brushing the exposed beam of the low ceiling. I take a seat in the wide captain’s chair on the opposite side of his desk and watch him peruse his overstuffed shelves.

  “The classics of course, Bullfinches Mythology. That covers Arthurian legends and the Age of Chivalry. The Iliad, The Odyssey but also some snippets from the Norse pantheon. Beowulf, I believe. Have you read it?”

  “I have.” Chances are there’s nothing in Garret’s library that could expand my understanding of the nine worlds more than my recent experience. “You said your focus was Greek and Roman. Do you know anything about Celtic mythology? Fairies and the like?”

  His dark eyes light up. “You like fairy tales?”

  “Why not? I’m living in one.”

  He laughs, mistaking my truth for sarcasm. “You know I do. I always found the tales of the Tuatha de Danann most imaginative.”

  That isn’t one I know. “Tell me about them.”

  Garret pulls a gray book from the shelf. Its spine is broken and the cover is battered and looks fragile in his large hands. “The people of the goddess Danu were a fierce tribe said to have superna
tural powers. They invaded what we now know as Ireland, appearing from the mist as if from nowhere.”

  At his words, all the hairs stand up on my arms. “They came out of nowhere?” Or had they come from beyond the Veil?

  “Well, more likely, the legend is puffed up to make them sound more invincible than they really were. Many believed they burned their boats to keep them in the new land. Did you ever hear the one about the chicken and the pig at the bacon and egg breakfast?”

  When I shake my head he says, “It’s one of Sophie’s favorite expressions. There’s different levels of involvement going onto the plate. The chicken is involved, the pig is committed.”

  Maybe it is my new appreciation for breakfast meat but I find myself returning his grin. “So, by burning their boats the Tuatha de Danann were committing themselves?”

  He nods. “No going back. So anyhow, the Irish inhabitants weren’t too thrilled by the invaders as native peoples usually aren’t. But whether by magic, superior strategy or just sheer numbers, the Tuatha de Danann overthrew them and ruled in their stead.

  “They ruled from,” he frowns and turns a page before continuing, “1897 BCE to around 1700 BCE when the tribe was defeated by another. Legend has it that they were permitted to stay in Ireland but only if they stayed underground.”

  I suck in a deep breath. “Under the hill. Underhill.”

  “Right.” He closes the book and hands it to me. “The original fairies.”

  Or maybe not. Maybe just a faction that had left the courts and tried their hand at living on this side of the Veil. I hold the book with both hands. “Thanks. I’m sure this will make interesting reading.”

  “Anytime.” Garret pauses and I wait, wondering if he is going to ask me to leave, in spite of Sophie’s wishes.

  He studies me for an endless moment. “I didn’t know about you until after she gave you up.”

  I wondered how long he’d wanted to say that. Probably from the moment our eyes had met. “I figured as much. From what Sophie said.”

  “It’s probably better that I didn’t know.” He turns to look out at his magnificent view. “I wouldn’t have taken it well.”

  Which I interpret to mean he would have asked Sophie to terminate the pregnancy. Great. First Underhill had tried to kill me in utero by drinking water from the poisoned spring Hvelgermir and now Garret’s saying he would have ganked me, too. Feeling the love, people. Really.

  He turns back and winces at the cold expression on my face. “What I’m trying to say, very poorly, is that I don’t, I won’t—judge you. Because I’ve made my share of mistakes.”

  His gaze goes to my belly. I raise a hand reflexively to cover it. I don’t know if Sophie told him or he figured it out for himself. Somehow, I believe the latter. Sophie seems desperate to earn my trust.

  “My baby isn’t a mistake,” I say. An accident perhaps, but I’ve come to believe in destiny. Aiden and I were careful, just not careful enough.

  One of his thick caterpillar-like eyebrows goes up. “So, you were trying to get pregnant?”

  “No, that is…,” I bite off the words, not this time. “Aiden’s coming back to find me. We’re going to be together and raise this baby, together.”

  Garret doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t have to. I can sense the disbelief coming off of him. And the pity.

  “Thanks again for the book.” I leave before I can do something really stupid, like burst into tears.

  Stupid hormones.

  Lying down on the bed, I can’t seem to keep my eyes open.

  Not another dream. My soul is weary and I think any more will drive me mad. It’s my final thought a second before sleep claims me.

  The girl called Pharaildis finishes the dance with a flourish of her hips, her face hidden behind her Veil. Most of her father’s guests clap and remark at her grace and beauty then return to their banquet. She straightens and moves to the doors that lead to her private chambers. She can feel the man’s eyes upon her body, the way he follows her every step. She loves the attention he devotes to her every performance.

  Almost as much as what comes next.

  A tray with a light repast has been set on the table in her room. Ignoring the food, Pharaildis instead goes out to the patio and stands beneath the glow of the moon. Her fingers grip the railing and she leans over, staring down at the winding dirt street below, empty of all activity in this late hour.

  “You were beautiful,” the man says from behind her. “But then you know that, don’t you?”

  The corner of her mouth pulls up and she turns, greedy for another look at his bearded face. “It is always nice to be appreciated, my lord.”

  “I am no lord.” He smooths a hand down her cheek, his gaze hot. “This is dangerous.”

  “It doesn’t have to be,” she catches his hand and brings it to her lips. “We could be married. Leave my father’s palace. Go live out our lives somewhere else, somewhere we aren’t known.”

  “You don’t know what it’s like out there, love. What people are truly like.”

  She turns away, angry and frustrated. “No, because my father doesn’t let me leave this palace. I was born into captivity and in captivity, I will remain.”

  His hands settle on her hips. He pulls her back against him until she can feel the evidence of his desire. “It’s not all bad, is it?”

  She reaches an arm behind her head as his lips lower to the side of her neck. “I want more, John. Eventually, my father will marry me off to someone else. You know he will. And if he finds out that you’ve touched me—”

  “Ssshhh, lovely. Do not trouble your mind with such things.” He turns her in his arms and lowers his mouth to hers. His kiss is hot, insistent and after another moment, she yields to him completely. There in the moonlight she finds satiation if not satisfaction.

  “A pocket realm?” Liam shakes his head. “Never heard of it.”

  “It’s a place that runs parallel to this world, at least in natural architecture,” Aiden explains.

  “And they are only accessible by magic,” Harmony adds. “Giant’s magic.”

  Liam scratches his chin stubble. “Which is why you need a giant.”

  “Right,” Aiden says.

  Liam makes a show out of checking his pockets. “Sorry, fresh out.”

  Harmony rolls her eyes. “His sense of humor is irritating.”

  “What do you want me to do? I can’t conjure a giant from thin air,” Liam grumbles.

  Aiden squeezes the bridge of his nose. “Like dwarves, giants make it a habit to visit Midgard, this world. You said you came from the Eastern part of the United States, correct? Then you’re our best shot at finding one near the location we’re heading to.”

  “You think I know how to find a giant in Washington D.C.?”

  Aiden opens his mouth to explain but Harmony holds up a hand. “First, we need you to get us there. We need airline tickets, passports. Anything a human would require for international travel.”

  “Again,” Liam shakes his head. “I can’t—”

  “I can,” Owen says from behind his shoulder. “I know someone. There’s a woman in the village.”

  Hope leaps in Aiden’s chest. “And she has access to a plane?”

  The wolf shifts his weight, clearly uncomfortable under Liam’s scrutiny. “Yes.”

  “And how exactly do you know this?” Liam turns and narrows his gaze on his packmate. “Haven’t I forbidden all contact with mortals?”

  Aiden sees the guilt on the wolf’s face, but also the glint of steel in his eyes. “You know,” Aiden says thoughtfully, “I bet if we asked around, most of your wolves have mingled with the mortals. You all started out as humans. You’re all related. And you all have animal lusts.”

  Liam casts him a murderous look, but even he flushes slightly. “It isn’t safe for us to take bedmates.”

  “That doesn’t mean no one has. You’ve been here for a long time. Surely others of you have connections that we can use,”
Harmony interjects.

  A female wolf steps forward. “I know a man who can get the documents we need.”

  “I don’t remember agreeing to help,” Liam growls.

  “Alpha—” the woman protests.

  “No.” Liam’s tone is final. “I won’t risk the pack.”

  “If what they say is true,” Gray says quietly, “the pack is already at risk.”

  Liam looks as though he’s been chewing on rancid meat. “And this is what you all want? To cross this Veil into a world we don’t know? To fight for the fey who mean nothing to us.”

  Owen shakes his head. “I do not wish to fight. But I think I speak for many others as well when I say I also do not wish to linger in this place like a bad smell.”

  “We want to live as people again,” another wolf says.

  Aiden steps forward. “You aren’t people, or rather, not just people, not anymore. I can’t promise you lives like you knew when you were mortal but I understand how important it can be to embrace both sides of your heritage.”

  Harmony flashes him a dazzling smile.

  Liam searches the faces of his pack, his face going at last to land on Gray’s. “This is truly what you all want?”

  “You’re a good leader, Liam. A better protector than I ever was,” Gray says. “Come with us.”

  But Liam shakes his head. “Someone needs to stay here, to find the ones who haven’t found the pack yet.” He turns to Aiden. “You will watch over them?”

  A lump forms in Aiden’s throat. “I will do everything in my power to protect your pack, nephew.”

  Several wolves decide to stay with Liam, but the majority want to come with them. With each name Harmony adds to the list of those who will need forged documents, Aiden feels the weight of Liam’s burden as their wellbeing is transferred to him.

  There are other details as well. Since most of the pack have been living as wolves, many have no clothing. Harmony and a few of the females venture into town to procure at least enough clothing so that the wolves won’t be discovered and Owen leaves to arrange for the flight.

  “Will you at least come as far as Washington with us?” Aiden pulls Liam aside to ask. “To help me find a giant? It’s territory you know better than I.”