“Fine. Three hours. I’ll send you a location and a time. Be ready.”
“I will.” Because she didn’t care what he was planning or who else he was going to have there. He could be organizing a flawless take-down, and it didn’t matter. Brit was walking into the meeting, guns blazing. He had let Kirby die. So had she. Neither of them deserved to survive the night any more than Mark had.
KIRBY
Kirby didn’t need to hear the other half of Starkad’s conversation. She could tell from his tone, brief words, and mostly the way he watched her, who he was talking to.
“Brit?” she asked, as he pocketed his phone.
He nodded. The conversation hadn’t been long enough for him to have any more information than he did earlier. His brief reply to Brit had said enough—he was giving Kirby what she wanted.
For six years, Brit’s existence had hung over Kirby like a cloud. Mocking. Tormenting. Reminding her how foolish she’d been. But also constantly pointing out what she’d thought she had. Kirby had tried to tell herself she didn’t care about the other woman. Spent so much time blaming herself for not seeing the signs. Let it devour parts of her soul.
And now she had the chance to put a sharp end to that bit of her past.
“I didn’t promise her anything but a time and a place,” Starkad said. “How do you want to do this?”
Three pairs of eyes watched her. Two gods and a man she’d all-but raised to the same status, with the pedestal she sat him on. None of them would flinch if Kirby said, Find me the perfect spot to execute her from.
And then what? Would that close that chapter of Kirby’s life? It had with her other former classmates. But they hadn’t fucked her then fucked her over, and she’d looked each of them in the eye and asked them if they wanted to change.
Brit had taken the only life Kirby knew, and crashed it against the rocks. She’d stolen Kirby’s choices with her lies.
And killing her wouldn’t change any of that. Kirby would have to confront herself and move forward regardless. “We don’t know if she’s telling the truth about wanting asylum. If she comes with Mark or anyone else, I’ll kill them.”
“If she comes alone? If she’s serious about wanting out?” Starkad asked.
“Then I don’t want to know what happens to her. Either way, I’m done with her. She’s out of my life forever after tonight.” Fuck, it felt good to say that. It let Kirby admit that what she’d felt for Brit had been love. The confession surged in her chest and crushed her lungs at the same time. It might have been twisted, misinformed, or silly-little-girl love, but Kirby had loved her at the time.
And Brit had fed Kirby and Starkad information for the last few years. Whatever her reasons, the result was Kirby got to take others out of the system who would kill again and again.
“We don’t know the area well enough. Where do we do this?” Starkad asked.
Min held up a finger. He left the room, and a moment later returned with a tablet, his fingers already flying across the screen. He turned the display toward Kirby and Starkad. “Here.”
It was a four-story apartment complex and several images of the surrounding street. Kirby swiped through the pictures. The building offered multiple lines of sight, for her to watch and potentially shoot from. It was also a convenient series of photos.
“I own the property. They’re the real-estate listings for renters,” Min said, as if reading her thoughts.
“Are you going to let her stay there?” That would be stupid. Hiding in plain sight was sometimes the best option, but TOM would look for Brit here first, when she went missing.
“You don’t want details.” Min flipped the cover shut on the device.
“You’re right. I don’t.”
Starkad scrubbed his face. “I don’t want you up there alone.”
“And I don’t want you on the ground alone. I’d rather be by your side, but I need the best angle to hit anyone who comes at you,” Kirby said. They’d split up before, but this was different. The odds were much higher it was a trap. Whatever transpired between them a few hours ago didn’t matter. Not while they were on mission. They could argue, and she could be hurt, and he could be cold, after things were over.
“Min will be on the ground, out of sight, since he’s the one who will relocate her. I’ll spot.” Gwydion didn’t sound happy about it, but he did sound certain.
Kirby couldn’t hide her surprise. He had to know what it meant. That being a spotter wasn’t something just anyone could do. He did know that, right?
He gave her a crooked grin. “I’m a man of many talents. I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t capable. Trust me, that’s not a place I want to be. But I have your back.”
And she believed that. “All right. We’ll be in place before Starkad gives her a location. As in, we get in place now. She’s expecting that. Any chance she’ll know where we’re setting up?” Kirby looked at Min.
“Did you learn about me in school?” Min’s tangent confused her.
“No.”
“As far as TOM is concerned, I’m not even on their radar, so they’re not monitoring my properties. There are at least a dozen buildings like this in a five-mile radius. Is it possible for someone to guess where we’ll be? Yes. Is it likely? No.”
“Besides, she probably thinks you’re dead. I did.” Gwydion made a face, as if he’d tasted something foul.
That would explain the blank spot in her memory. But people didn’t die then come back to life. Kirby didn’t like trying to process the words, so she ignored the churning they caused in her gut. “That means she may not expect me. She is expecting something. She won’t assume Starkad will come alone.”
“It’s like you said—if she’s serious about asylum, none of these plans will make a difference,” Starkad said. “If she’s coming with backup, we can sit here and second-guess until we’re blue in the face, but our caution is the only thing that matters. Consider this—after your light show with the grenade yesterday, the city is on high alert. TOM won’t risk sending in large reinforcements that could draw attention. Hell, if she told them you’re dead, she’s going to have a hard time getting any backup in here.”
“Unless she hasn’t told them. Or they want you.” Kirby had to be nothing in the grand scheme of gods’ struggling to maintain their power, but Starkad had been someone at the school. The knowledge he must have taken with him...
The men exchanged a look she didn’t understand, then Starkad turned back to her. “They’re not sending a team like that when they come for me.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” And why did she feel like someone had just walked over her grave? She’d never understood that phrase until now.
He tangled his fingers with hers—something he never did, except after scenes—and held her gaze. “It’s a long story. I promise you that when we’re done tonight, I’ll answer every question you ask me. Anything that’s been off the table before, anything I’ve held back, I’ll tell you.”
That wasn’t comforting. What had changed? Not that she was going to pass up the opportunity. “You’re going to regret that promise.”
“I regret not having done it sooner.”
Invisible and icy fingers crawled up her spine, and she couldn’t suppress her shudder.
Gwydion stood. “Later. We need as much time as possible to prepare.”
“Let’s go.” Kirby wanted answers from Starkad, but not distractions before a mission. She compartmentalized her curiosity.
She rode with Min. Starkad and Gwydion took an alternate route in the other car. When they arrived, Kirby canvased as much of the area as she could in thirty minutes. The building was empty—Min was still remodeling. Kirby walked through every single room on the top two floors, cracking open the windows to different widths.
Then she picked the one with the best vantage point, to look down on Starkad from. She’d let Brit and anyone with her puzzle through whether or not Kirby’s spot was that obvious.
Kir
by settled in next to Gwydion. They kept conversation to the required exchange of information, but the silence between status updates was comfortable. It was odd, having two new people be part of this without hesitation or question. Trusting them was odder. She was bothered that she did, but they wouldn’t be here if Starkad had doubts about them.
And it was oddest knowing that Brit was about to be... gone. Vanished into a new life or dead.
Kirby expected a tug of grief or rage at the thought, but peace settled in, soothing her hammering pulse.
“Incoming.” Gwydion’s soft voice was distinct.
Kirby closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Freya, help me to make peace among my enemies. She looked again and pressed her eye to the scope. Until she heard otherwise, Starkad would stay in her line of sight. Gwydion’s job was to tell her if Brit, or anyone else, was a long-distance threat.
“On approach from the north. Target is alone. Twenty meters out.” Gwydion was good at this.
Kirby redirected her focus to his coordinates. A lump lodged in her throat when Brit’s face filled her scope. She swallowed hard, banishing the past at the same time. This was a new start, regardless of what came next.
Brit’s arm hung limply by her side, the splint gone. That was odd. She walked up to Starkad, close enough Kirby could see them both in the scope.
Starkad’s lips moved. It would be nice to be able to read lips right now, but he could fill her in later. He looked directly at Kirby.
Fucking idiot. What was he doing?
Brit’s bad arm twitched. In a single motion, she pulled a pistol from the holster at her waist and emptied the magazine into Starkad.
Rage ripped through Kirby when Starkad stumbled. Shoot. Shoot now. The voice screamed in her head. Or that was Gwydion? No, she was pretty sure it was her.
Pain seized her, threatening to crush her and tear her apart and burn her alive at the same time. Everything went white. The only thing in Kirby’s world was agony.
Someone screamed. Was that her? Her throat was raw, but it was nothing, compared to the rest of the anguish devouring her.
And then the blinding light faded away, and Kirby was on a battlefield. Dirt and blood caked her skin and tongue. Shouts of rage filled the air. She didn’t care about any of it. She was focused on Starkad, whom she cradled in her arms.
But this wasn’t the Starkad she knew. He wore battered leather armor. His beard hung down past his chest, and his hair draped over her hand.
“I can’t do this.” The words came from her mouth, in her voice. Grief seized her, as she watched him, blood spattered on his skin and a gaping hole in his side. “I can’t lose you.”
It was true. Regardless of what trouble she had with Starkad, she’d watch the world burn, before she surrendered him. The love and terror that hammered in her chest hurt. Tears flowed down her cheeks. She’d never felt sadness like this. Never would again.
“Odin will be furious.” Starkad’s voice was weak. He wasn’t speaking English, but she understood every word clearly.
“Fuck Odin. I won’t serve him if it means losing you. I won’t take you. Not to Valhalla. Not from the face of the earth.” She leaned in and brushed her lips over his. Live. Please. For me. The words echoed in her head, and she poured their meaning into the kiss. She’d give up everything, even eternity, for Starkad.
The physical pain was back, tearing her from the past. Flinging her through time. Killing her again and again and again.
When the torment overwhelmed her, and blackness flooded her vision, she welcomed unconsciousness.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Now - Kirby
Something brushed across Kirby’s face. Fingers? A cold cloth settled on her forehead. Gwydion.
No. That was her previous life. But that didn’t make sense. She’d never lived before.
She forced her eyes open, and Starkad’s face swam into view. Short hair. Clean shaven. Alive.
Her heart shattered, and a sob tore from her throat, as love crashed through her. It was hers, but it wasn’t. She’d loved him so much it hurt. Love shouldn’t cause this kind of pain.
“Why?” she croaked.
He frowned and kissed her forehead. She didn’t hear his answer. Unconsciousness consumed her again.
Kirby flitted through times and places she’d never been. The pain was still there, but it was tempered by sex and passion and love so intense it made her gasp at the lack of reason behind it. She’d lived all these lives. She knew, because in most, Starkad or Gwydion or Min told her so.
This wasn’t her. These women lived for hope. They thought they had a future. They were all wrong. Time and time again, she felt life ripped away in agony.
Then she lived it all again. Meeting Min for the first time. Balking as he demanded that if she loved him, she do so without reservation. Falling regardless, into nights of submitting to him and days of him worshiping her.
Then Gwydion. Always comforting. Always able to push aside her reason. Always introducing her to wild sex and insanely beautiful cities.
And Starkad. In the few lives where she found him, she’d died before she remembered. Before the memory of her first life pointed out he was immortal thanks to her. But she fell into his arms without reservation each time. Who she was now shriveled away from the intensity of their love. It wasn’t fair.
Kirby couldn’t stay in these fantasies—memories? With a force of will she thought she’d lost, she clawed her way back to consciousness. When she woke again, Starkad still sat by her side.
There were so many images in her head that vied for attention, but one plowed its way to the front of her mind. A memory from this life. Of waking up after she tried to kill herself, with him watching over her, begging any god who would listen, for her to survive.
“Do you remember?” he asked.
She nodded.
“It’s probably a blur,” he said quietly. “Take it slowly. It will all come together with time.”
She didn’t care about the kaleidoscope in her mind. “I thought Brit killed you.”
“It takes more than a few bullets to the head and chest to take me down.” His laugh was weak.
The scene from the battlefield filled her head again, so potent that the tang of copper flooded her mouth. “Thanks to me.”
“Thanks to you.”
Her entire body hurt, but the pain was a ghost. None of the wounds were fresh, but her training in ignoring discomfort was the only thing keeping her sane.
“Tell me what you need.” Starkad was still watching her, with those warm, blue eyes. With that fucking look she’d wanted for so many years. One that didn’t belong to her, because he’d saved it for someone else who used to wear her face.
Her answer lodged in her throat. This life hadn’t been easy. All the others put together were cotton candy on a summer day, compared to the last twenty-five years. Starkad had been there for so much of it, and now an overwhelming love for him bled into all of it. She couldn’t reconcile the two. “Gwydion. I need Gwydion.”
“All right.” Hurt lined Starkad’s reply, but he stood.
For some reason his compliance without question was worse than if he’d pushed back. He turned away, paused, then turned back to her.
Starkad knelt next to her and cradled her face between his hands.
Conflict raged inside, begging her to pull away. Insisting she lean in.
He searched her face. “I know I kept things from you. I have reasons, and I’ll explain every single one. Some things should have gone better, some things could have gone far worse. But every single decision I made, I thought it was right at the time. I don’t regret any of it. None of it. Especially not any moments we shared. You’re my Ruby, from now until eternity, and I will always love you.”
The longing in her heart clung to his words, but there was too much that was bad surrounding the sensation. “I want to talk to Gwydion.” She was surprised she made the request without her voice cracking.
Gwydion moved into sight.
Before Starkad could leave, another question rushed to the front of Kirby’s mind. “In the other lives—the other Kirbys—I didn’t meet any of you until I was in my twenties. Do you always find me when I’m younger, and wait?”
Starkad shook his head. “This is the first time... We look for you. You tend to be drawn to war and battlegrounds in each life. But we’ve never found you because we said this is where she’ll be.”
She didn’t like the next question that slid into her thoughts, but she had to know. “Why didn’t I meet Gwydion or Min until two days ago?”
Starkad clenched his jaw.
Now betrayal mingled with pain and confusion. She turned to Gwydion. “Tell me. Why did you let them raise me in that place? Why, if you spent lifetimes looking for me, has it taken so long for me to meet you in this one?”
He glanced at Starkad, who stared at the wall, then looked at Kirby again. “They didn’t think it was a good idea. Especially with me. You remember faster when I’m around you. You were a child. We wanted to protect you. Starkad didn’t want me... What was the word he used?” Anger flashed across Gwydion’s face. “Grooming you.”
Disbelief joined the bitter cocktail of her emotions, amplifying everything instead of muting it. “Oh, gods forbid that happen.” She let the sarcasm bleed into her words. “Kirby, don’t ever let them see you’re weak. Kirby, pain is worse than showing someone you love them. Kirby, let me pretend to save you, only to drive home over and over and over again how unfuckable you are. But no, I wasn’t groomed.”
“I did—”
“What you thought was best at the time,” Kirby cut Starkad off. “Holy fuck, if you tell me that again... I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but as soon as I figure out what I’m capable of, it’ll be bad. Get. Out.”
Starkad walked out.
The images flooded back in a chaotic jumble. Those of her last life were the most potent. When her memories came back, she’d wandered out of a hotel in Kuwait in a haze of confusion. She wouldn’t do something so careless again, but she needed something to tap this rush and help relieve the pressure.
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