by K.N. Lee
It landed with a splat on his chin, before sliding off and falling on his chest. “Goddamnit, bitch.” He snapped his fingers at one of the zombie men.
The zombie-man hurried over, pivoted, and offered the tail of his shirt.
Cee-El tugged the shirt toward him, bringing the zombie-guy closer. He wiped his chest and face with the shirt, then shoved the guy and his now-damp shirt-tails away. Then, he held out his hand, palm up. “The whip, please.”
The zombie-guy shuffled toward a nearby wooden chest and fished a coiled bull whip from it. He scurried back to Cee-El and handed it to him.
Kara’s face broke out in a cold sweat. She’d never been whipped before and she didn’t want to start now. She tried to elbow the giant but his grip held fast.
Cee-El slid the wrist loop over his hand. His fingers curled around the braided handle and he lashed the air. Nodding, he flicked his wrist again in one fluid movement. The leather thong swooshed and the popper tip cracked along her cheek, barely missing her eye.
She cried out against the sharp sting. The pain spread like a wildfire through her face.
“Leave her alone,” Ace cried, wrenching against his bindings. “Don’t harm her.”
“It’s merely a warm-up, Son of Death. I need to make sure my aim is true for you,” Cee-El said without turning around. With a snap of his arm, the whip thong sliced the air with whoosh. The popper bit her cheek like a cobra strike.
She let out a gasp. “Fuck you, Common Language,” she snarled. Her heart sledge-hammered against her chest. Her tongue slid from her mouth and she licked the blood trickling alongside her lips. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” she cried. “None of this.”
“Well, shit happens,” Cee-El said with a chuckle. “I guess my evil plans trump good.” He nodded toward the giant. “Get her on her knees like a sweet little supplicant.”
The giant grasped her wrists behind her in one meaty hand. Grabbing the back of her head with his other hand, he shoved her to her knees.
Pain shot through her bones as her knees cracked against the stone slab.
The sword blade danced with flames, like fingers beckoning to her.
How can I get to my weapon? Ideas, thoughts, and inspiration torpedoed through her mind.
Cee-El noticed where her gaze landed. “Pick it up,” he said to the two men who had brought out Jaidon. He inclined his head toward the sword.
They looked at one another, trembling.
“But she said...” the greasy-guy zombie began.
“I said, pick up the fucking sword.”
Greasy-guy shuffled toward the weapon. As soon as he reached for it, he snatched his hand away, screeching like a baby. “I can’t. There’s some kind of magic on it.”
The chipped-tooth zombie tried it. His hand yanked back, hitting the first guy.
“You idiots!” Cee-El snarled, waving his stump in a circle. He swiped his handless arm across his sweaty forehead. “I’ll deal with the sword later. Let’s get started. This has been a long time coming.”
Kara’s gaze pivoted wildly from Ace to Cee-El to Jaidon. Did his eyelids twitch? She blinked, then willed her face to neutral. Did his chest move? Is he still alive? Her heart hip-hopped at the thought.
“Everyone, assume your positions!” Cee-El said.
The giant gripped her tight with his moist, hairy arms. “What do I do with her?”
As Cee-El scanned the area, Jaidon inched his knees toward his chest.
The giant seemed not to have noticed. Instead, he sniffed her hair like a dog or a rat. Sniff, sniff, sniff. Sniff, sniff, sniff.
The gesture made her skin crawl. Keeping her expression blank, Kara tilted her head and said, with a sneer, “Why not tie me to the tree with Ace? Two birds with one stone and all that...”
“Good point.” Cee-El snapped his fingers.
Kara brought her gaze to Ace’s unforgettable eyes. She wanted to memorize this moment, to burn the image of him and their mysterious, fiery connection into her soul. This was her turning point. This could be the “it” moment of her life, when everything made sense before she, and everyone she loved—including herself—went out in a blaze of horror. She’d been born assuming an ordinary life—and then she had been shot. Now life as she had known it would change from this point on, for better or worse. All these thoughts swirled in her mind while her gaze stayed locked with Ace.
His face creased in serious regard, his gemstone eyes as clear as the moon. He nodded, as if he understood—as if he were saying good-bye to her.
Her heart nearly stopped at the thought. Shaking her head, she broke contact. She let her attention flick to Jaidon. Is he breathing? Then, her gaze drifted back to Cee-El. Then, sliding her attention back toward Jaidon, her eyebrows lifted slightly.
Jaidon’s fingers crawled down his leg.
Kara’s eyes widened. She caught Ace’s gaze again. Her head tipped ever-so slightly toward Jaidon.
Ace looked at the fallen man and frowned. Then, he gave her an almost imperceptible chin-lift.
“Okay,” Cee-El said, nodding. “Tie her to the tree.”
As the giant wrestled with Kara, Jaidon slipped his hand under his pants, retrieving a small gun from a holster on his calf.
How they’d missed finding it was beyond Kara’s comprehension. Maybe zombies aren’t particularly bright.
The gun went off, clipping the giant in the leg.
The giant yelled. He spun to face Jaidon, dropping Kara.
Jaidon swung his arm around and shot Cee-El in the face.
Cee-El roared as his head exploded. His blood splattered along Ace’s torso. He fell backward, landing on his butt, screaming in pain.
Ace let out a horrified yell, yanking against his restraints.
“Goddamn,” Jaidon groaned. He fell back, as if it had taken all his energy to pull the trigger. Then, he curled into a ball. “For you, Kara,” he murmured, as his eyes closed.
Kara’s breath caught. Whether he did it for her human self, for her Valkyrie self, or both, it didn’t matter. She wrestled free of her captor, lunging for her weapon. Stumbling, she fell on top of it, catching her clothes on fire. Heedless of any pain, she jack-knifed to her feet, sword in hand and fire lapping at her skin. In three swift steps, she faced Cee-El.
Half his face had blown apart. Somehow, he still lived, maybe jacked on black magic. He peered at her through his one good eye, letting out a scream.
“Get her!” he yelled to his minions.
They stayed glued to the ground where they stood.
Raising her weapon high, she let out a war-cry and swung.
The blade sliced cleanly through Cee-El’s neck.
His head tumbled to the ground, stuck in a frozen, wide-eyed look of bewilderment.
The Drascatu circling overhead seemed untethered without Cee-El. They darted back and forth, looking like they didn’t have a clue what to do next.
Kara lunged toward Ace, using her sword to cut through his bindings, disregarding the flames licking her entire body.
“You’re not...you’ll still be alive when this is over, right? You won’t burn to death, right?” The words tumbled from his mouth on a wave of concern.
“I think so.” She shrugged. “Let’s find out. Go!”
“Can we kill dead men?” he asked.
“You’re Son of Death. You tell me. Give it your best shot.” She waved him away.
Ace raced toward one of the goons like a steam engine. Head down, he slammed into the zombie-guy.
The guy fell backward.
Ace brought his booted foot up and crushed it into the man’s face. His boot landed with a crunching splat.
Blood seeped from the guy’s fractured skull.
Kara called to an overhead Drascatu. “The ritual’s over.” She pointed to the dead man. “Get them! Do what you do best.”
The demon nodded, as if thankful for direction. It landed and sliced open the guy’s belly. Then, it crawled inside.
> The greasy-guy raced away from them.
Ace sprinted after him. He leaped and grabbed the zombie-guy’s waist, bringing them both to the ground. He pummeled the zombie’s head until the guy stopped moving.
Kara trained her sword on the giant. He feigned right. She lunged, missing him.
He darted left, appearing too agile and lithe for his bulk. She swung, nicking his arm.
He wiped blood from his skin with his thumb and licked it. With a grunt, he dashed toward Kara.
Side-stepping him, she gritted her teeth and two-handed her sword. She stabbed the giant clean through his abdomen.
He yelled, falling like a tree. When he landed on the solid stone, he tried to get onto his hands and knees. Before she could swing at him again, he moaned and stilled. Blood pooled from his wound, trickling along the stones like a sticky red river.
Kara kicked at his lifeless form. “Seems dead to me. Fetch,” she said to a Drascatu. “He’s all yours.”
The demon settled next to the giant and sliced open his belly.
She ignored him, gasping for breath, too tired to see straight. The flames from the sword receded from the blade and withdrew from her body. She wiped the blood from the gleaming edge onto her pants, and slid the sword into its invisible sheath.
Ace strode to where she stood. “My God, Kara. You’re not only a Valkyrie, you’re a fire goddess.”
She flashed him a wan smile. “And you’re the Son of Death.”
A small grin appeared on his face. “Not exactly sure what that means. I hope there’s an instruction manual somewhere.” He caught her face between his palms and brought his mouth to hers. Kissing her hungrily, he ground his lips into hers. Releasing her, he wrapped his arms around her and brought her close. “I thought I had lost you for good.”
Gripping him tightly, she murmured into his chest. “Me, too. And I wanted to die at the thought. I’d only just found you and...” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Gently, she pushed away from him so she could gaze at his beautiful face. As she lifted her eyes, she caught sight of Drascatu circling overhead. “Oh, no! Those blasted demons are still here.” She called to them. “I gave you a feast. Can’t you leave us alone?”
Ace whipped around to see for himself. “They don’t seem to be after me. Or maybe I’m no longer afraid. Who do you think they’re here for?”
Kara’s heart sunk to her feet. “I’m worried they’re here for Jaidon.” She slowly pivoted to face her former fiancé.
The Valkyrie Fraya blurred into view.
Kara blinked, startled. She waved her hand at Jaidon. “We have to save him! He’s dying!”
Fraya smiled in response, shaking her head.
“What? Are you smiling? At me?”
Then, Bork flew from the sky, carrying the wizened figure of Death. Crows flapped and fluttered around his head.
“Hey, girl. Good job,” he said, grinning.
He put Death on his feet.
The old man beamed at Ace.
“Who are they?” Ace said.
“I’m Death. You’re my heir.” The dark wrinkled figure grinned through the folds on his face. “We’ve got some talking to do. Come.” He held out a bony hand.
When Ace took it, his entire body lit. His head fell back and he gasped. Then, both he and Death disappeared.
Kara’s heart surged. “Wait! I didn’t get to say good-bye to him,” she cried. He doesn’t know I love him!
“You’ll have your moment,” Fraya said. “Lots of them.” She sauntered toward Kara and put her arm around her.
Bork strode toward her other side and did the same.
They led her to where Jaidon lay dying.
Drascatu circled him.
“Are you ready?” Fraya asked, in a voice which almost seemed gentle.
“Is it time to wield my crossbow?” Kara asked in a quivering voice, her eyes filling with tears.
“It is,” Fraya said.
“We’re not sending him to them, are we?” She flung her hand toward the Drascatu.
“No, warrior. He’s too good for them.”
Kara nodded. She honestly didn’t know if she could do it. Clearly, the first arrow shot—aimed at the man she once loved and not a stupid simulation--would be the hardest.
22
Kara clutched her gleaming black crossbow, holding it steady, and aimed at Jaidon’s heart. As she peered through the scope, her forefinger shook, positioned on the trigger pull.
The moon illuminated the entire top of the rise at Sexsmith Mountain like a fat globe of light.
The trees poking through cracks in the stone cast long, spindly moon-shadows, crisscrossed along his chest.
How fitting, Kara thought. The shadows form an X right at the place where my arrow tip is aimed.
His ribcage expanded and contracted in shuddering faltering breaths.
In the distance, the lights of Boston winked like stars.
Overhead, the Drascatu circled.
Fraya and Bork flanked her on either side.
“You have a choice, you know,” Fraya said.
Kara’s head whipped to face her. “I do?”
“Of course. There’s always a choice to be had.” She stood in her usual Wonder Woman pose, arms crossed over her chest.
Lowering her crossbow, Kara said, “Care to tell me what that might be? Since I almost took out my fiancé...”
“You mean Agent Falko’s fiancée,” Fraya said. “You’re no longer her.”
“I’m not?” Kara asked, her forehead creasing.
“This is your crossroads, love,” Bork said, a benign smile on his face. “You acted bravely tonight. You showed us what you’re made of. Fate has granted you a life.”
“Fate has granted me a life?” Kara parroted. She shook her head, her crossbow hanging by her side. “Would one of you please tell me in plain English what’s going on here?”
“The Fates, love. They watch our every move—sort of govern our actions. They’ve deemed you worthy of saving one life.” Bork smiled at her as if she’d won a new pony at the fair.
“Okay, so I did something good today, the Fates have decreed I can save a life, and—do I get to save this one?” She pointed at her former fiancé. Her breath caught in her throat in a trapped sob.
“It’s your choice,” Fraya repeated, with a shrug of her shoulder. “You’re going to have to use your crossbow one way or the other today, but it doesn’t have to be him.” Her eyes glowed like soft candlelight instead of the usual raging firestorm.
“What do you mean? If I don’t kill him, I have to kill someone else?” Her eyes stretched wide. “Do I have to kill Ace?” she said, in a near whisper.
“Don’t be daft.” Fraya rolled her eyes, looking more like what Kara was used to. “Why on Earth would you save the Son of Death only to off him so the Drascatu Shadespawn could take over? Use that bright mind of yours.” Fraya’s eyebrows lifted in encouragement. “Someone who looks like you...? Ringing any bells?”
As understanding dawned, Kara’s face flushed. “I have to kill my human self?”
Fraya nodded. “Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!” She smirked. “But it has to be your choice. Your human body or his, what will it be?”
“I’ll still get to be a Valkyrie, right?”
Bork nodded. “One of the best.”
Fraya fixed her eyes on him, fire bursting from her gaze.
Bork laughed. “Cool your jets, my queen. No one holds a candle to you.”
Her expression softened and she fluttered her lashes at him, practically purring.
“Will I—this me, standing here, not the me I’m about to kill—will I still get to see Ace?” Kara asked, aware her alliance had fully shifted from Jaidon to the Son of Death.
“That’s not our decision.” Fraya waved her hand in the air. “That kind of decision—matters of the heart—has nothing to do with the Valkyrie as a whole.”
The phrase “matters of the heart” brought a strange, mus
h-bucket sensation into Kara’s chest. She tried to cover up her silly grin by giving a crisp FBI trained nod of the head.
Fraya tapped her wrist where a watch would be if she wore one. “Time’s ticking. What’s your choice?” She resumed her arm crossed over the chest power move.
“Jaidon, of course! What will happen to him?” Kara fell to her knees, resting her crossbow by her side. Reaching out, she stroked his forehead with her hand.
“I’ll fly him back to Sisters of Mercy. I’ll put on my secret service uniform and dash in the emergency room doors. They’ll fix him right up. That will buy you some time to take care of your human body.” Bork grinned at her.
Kara looked at him and nodded, picturing him in his stretched tight, bursting at the seams outfit. She scoffed. “He’ll enjoy that, won’t he?” she said to Fraya.
“Far too much,” Fraya said.
Turning back to Jaidon, Kara leaned forward and placed her lips on his. She swore he responded, softly returning the kiss as if he knew who she was. When she lifted her head, her eyes filled tears.
“Goodbye, my love,” she whispered. The words fell from her mouth in a sob.
“Come.” Fraya extended her hand toward Kara. “We have work to do.”
Together, they took a couple running steps and launched into the sky.
Kara cast one last look at Jaidon, being hefted into Bork’s strong embrace. “He’s a good man.”
“He is. He qualifies as a warrior. You can be sure when his time comes, he’ll be sent to Valhalla.”
“To party with Odin?” Kara’s lip curled.
“Oh, that’s merely the myth. We don’t know what, exactly, happens there now but no one complains.”
“Have you ever been to Valhalla?” Kara stretched her arms out wide beneath her wings.
Dressed in gold, as usual, Fraya glittered against the night sky. “I have, but it was a long time ago. Odin tried to make a move on me. Bork found out and nearly drilled Odin a new asshole with his sword. The whole thing got very messy. I hear Odin tries to keep it all PC and equal rights now, making sure there is consent and no bonded warriors to contend with.”
“Is that what you and Bork are? Bonded warriors?” The wind felt delicious dancing through her hair and whispering along her face.