The Banished Gods Box Set: Books 1-3

by L. A. McGinnis

  Touch.

  She touched him at every turn, her fingers in his shirt, on his arm, around his wrist, almost his face. He’d held his breath when her hand lifted, even hoped for one wild minute he’d feel those soft fingers touch his face. But she’d caught herself and he’d drawn a shaky breath, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. World gone to shit, Grim crawling the walls, and he was mooning over some young human, barely out of her twenties.

  Even though at this moment she was up against him, her leg lying along the length of his, pressed into him in the back of the Hummer as they sped back to sanctuary. “What are you thinking?” he asked, considering she hadn’t spoken a single word since leaving.

  “Not sure. What would a few weeks buy anyone?”

  “Nothing.” He frowned. “Or everything.”

  “Exactly. Not long enough to raise an army or build a weapon or change the world, but if you only needed to do one final thing?”

  Her eyes met his, and he realized they were in perfect accord. “It might be enough time to finish what needed doing.” Most of his attention focused on the long lean press of her leg against his, Mir asked, “Suggestions?”

  “Destroy the dolmens.”

  As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Sydney shook her head. “Nope, that would be a tactical mistake. Destroy them and he’d only find another entry point. One you don’t know about. One you’d have to locate then fortify and defend. For now, this one is contained.” Pursing her lips, she continued, her eyes unfocused as she calculated. “No, you maintain the advantage if you leave the circle intact.”

  For a moment, she remained quiet, the only thing between them, the heat of their legs pressed together. And then a small, secret smile curved her lips. One he found beguiling and more than a little unsettling.

  “Leave them up, move them back into their original positions, and reset the clock back to the solstice. You do that, and you throw off the schedule, you mess up his plan.” The smile faded a little. “I cannot tell you what they’ll do, mind you, only that something will happen on June twenty-first. Anything could happen, Mir.” Her hand drifted over and settled onto his thigh as he tensed beneath her touch. “Anything at all.”

  A cloud seemed to pass over her face then, something dark and just a little bit sad. She looked up at him and added, shifting away from him until they were apart, “We’d better talk when we get back. I have something to tell you. And you won’t like it.”

  Chapter 8

  Odin was waiting when they got back, or rather, one of the ravens was waiting. Mir couldn’t ever tell the bastards apart, since they looked alike. But he followed the little shit’s instructions and headed for the Throne Room, Syd in tow. “I needn’t warn you to watch what you say, do I?”

  A single shake of her head released the tightness in his gut as they made the longer than necessary hike up to the throne, making sure she stayed tucked behind him. “My Lord.”

  “Heard you had a little surprise waiting for you in the museum?”

  “You know we did. A little warning would have been nice.”

  “Didn’t see them until you did.” The All Father waved off his failing like it was nothing. As if the ambush wouldn’t have gotten them all killed. “How many?”

  “A hundred, maybe more. Tyr stayed to get a final count. Safe to say Hel’s in league with the Orobus?” He felt Sydney flinch behind him when he mentioned the Goddess of Death’s name.

  “Safe to say.” Odin’s voice took on that creamy, knowing tone. The kind Mir hated to hear from Odin, since it meant things were about to go to shit. “Anything to add to the report, human?”

  “Nope, not a thing,” Sydney’s voice trembled.

  “I would be very interested to hear your take on today’s events. Please. Humor me.”

  Mir didn’t like where this was going. It reminded him of a cat toying with a mouse. “My Lord—”

  Odin cut him off. “I asked her a simple question. I expect a simple answer. Human…”

  “My name is Sydney Allen.” Mir shut his eyes. If this continued, there’d be no winner. “I’d really rather go through it with Mir first and then he can report to you.” Mir stepped in front of her, blocking her from Odin’s view, and saw the jolt of surprise flit across Odin’s face, replaced by a cruel smile.

  “Step aside, Mir. The human wanted to be part of our little cadre, let’s see what she offers in exchange for a day’s food and shelter.” Odin leaned forward, greed glittering in his silvery eyes as his magic pulsed in the room around them. “Sydney Allen?”

  She shook her head wordlessly, tears building in her eyes. “Please, I can’t…”

  “Oh you can, and you will.” His fingers began to drum on the arm of his throne. “What secret did your professor tell you about the Orobus?”

  “He said he talks to it. That it showed him where the circle was buried in Ireland. Told him to bring the stones back here to Chicago.” Her eyes careening wildly around, she snapped her mouth shut.

  “Very good. Now, I believe you have another message for me?” The cold lash of Odin’s magic wrapped around them, cruel fingers of ice, and while he held them immobile, Mir watched in horror as Sydney’s face went slack.

  The Orobus was inside of her.

  He stared out through her eyes, while the room expanded until it encompassed the entire world, covering it in shadows and an inky blackness that threatened to swallow her whole.

  Sydney’s body shook as terror consumed her. As everything, the white room, the throne, even Mir, disappeared. Everything, all she knew, went dark. Odin’s cold, demanding voice became the tether to which she clung, the anchor pulling her through this endless night.

  “Get on with it, human, what message does the dark god wish to send?”

  She was lost. She was falling, pin wheeling through the air with no bottom in sight. As if from far, far away, Sydney heard her voice, thready and faint, asking, “You dare make demands of the God of Chaos?”

  Why she was saying this, she did not rightly know.

  Odin’s mocking, cold voice drew closer. “Oh, I do. I am assuming you have a message for me, human?” His voice turned unbelievably cruel. “Gods, you stink of witchblood. Of iron and sorcery and deception. I smelled it on you from the moment you first appeared before me. Now. Relay whatever message the Orobus gave you and be gone.”

  Sydney felt her limbs twitch, as if Odin and the Orobus fought over her body, over who held the strings to which she danced. “You locked the God of Chaos away, in a prison made of ice and time.”

  “I did no such thing, but pray, continue. The message, please.”

  “He did not choose this world because of the life it holds. But because of you.” Something corrupt and powerful controlled her from within now, something beyond Odin’s icy magical strength. Something oily and black and wholly evil moved her mouth, made the words, laid them on her tongue, and forced them from her lips. Inside her unmoving body, Sydney began to thrash, her head flailing back and forth, struggling to free herself.

  “Because of us?” Odin urged.

  The tether to her world was fraying. It was fraying and she would be lost, lost forever inside this oily, endless dark, even as the horrible words continued to pour from her mouth.

  “No. Because of you, Odin. You, who are directly descended from The Three Gods. And you shall pay the price for his imprisonment. I’ll take this world and all the others. You shall be punished, and I’ll take everything you covet away from you.”

  “You’ve seen this?” Odin’s voice echoed and echoed in her head, ricocheting back and forth until it became an unending loop.

  After concentrating on the question, Sydney finally answered, “Not seen it. I know it.”

  “And how, pray tell, do you know such a thing, witchling?”

  The voice that came out of Sydney’s mouth was ancient, cruel, and very much male.

  “What makes you think the white-haired dream-walker was my only vessel? I’ve a
thousand such mortals at my disposal. How else shall I get through to you, Odin, except in the guise of one you trust?”

  Chapter 9

  Sydney woke up, sprawled on a strange bed in total darkness.

  At least they’d not thrown her out in the snow or locked her in a dungeon. She vaguely remembered the events from the Throne Room. They were foggy, as if she viewed them from behind a clouded glass. What she couldn’t shake was the feeling of utter helplessness, of being held captive by forces greater than herself.

  Odin had seen her now, though. Had seen all of her.

  Witchblood, he’d said. Disgust thick on his lips as he’d spat the insult at her.

  A flicker of power licked up inside her along with the memory, but she tamped it down fiercely. She’d worked hard for this normal, mortal life. Made horrendous sacrifices. These days, normalcy was her most precious possession. And something she’d never lose, Sydney promised herself fiercely. Magic ruined her life once before. It never would again.

  Except Mir had been there. Heard it all. Her stomach twisted. Now he knew too.

  It had been twelve years since she’d left her past behind. The coven and her father’s teachings and the insane prophecy that started her on this current path she was on…

  She flipped over, trying to catch her breath. The prophecy was a myth. Something she’d chosen to believe in, at a time when she’d been grasping at straws. Well, all of that bullshit was forgotten, traded in for degrees and certifications and credentials from respected universities.

  She was mortal now. A full-blooded, normal human. Except…

  Rolling, she pounded the pillow, raging silently.

  Maybe she wasn’t any better than McRoy. Maybe she was just a puppet too, pulled by strings she couldn’t even see. Not exactly how she thought her plan would go when she’d marched in here, intent on saving the world.

  Syd tried the door and was half-surprised when the knob turned. Even more surprising was the empty hallway she stepped into. Making her way to the War Room, there wasn’t much reason, she supposed, to lock her in. Where could she go? The museum was crawling with little spidery monster things, the streets with human monsters, and if neither of those got her, the weather certainly would.

  However, none of those concerned her nearly as much as the scariest thing at the moment. Which was finding Mir so she could explain. She hadn’t lied. Not exactly. But neither had she been entirely honest.

  Sighing, she shoved through the door and froze when the sea of faces turned toward her.

  A handsome man with long black hair waved her in. “There she is. Sydney Allen, just who we’ve been waiting for. Good job on your plan to reposition the dolmens. You’ll need to calculate the new positions and draw up a schematic for us. Tyr will provide the manpower.”

  The grim, dark-haired god glowered at her from across the table, while the handsome man smiled warmly at the blonde woman next to him. “Morgane here will get you set up in a work space. Out of curiosity, what was your original date?”

  “June twenty-first,” Sydney blurted, her lips numb.

  “Of course, the solstice makes perfect sense. Two weeks it is, boys and girls. Let’s make it count.” As everyone rose to leave, the black-haired god leaned over and whispered, “I’m Loki, by the way. I don’t think Mir had the chance to properly introduce us.”

  “Why…Why didn’t you lock me up? I don’t get it, aren’t all of you pissed off?” Sydney blundered on. “It’s like I’m a spy for the other side.”

  “First of all, no one believes you’re really a spy. Secondly…” Loki’s blue eyes flashed, almost as if they burned, before he added quietly, “Look, go and talk to Mir. He’s in the infirmary. Don’t put this off either, it’ll only make things harder. He’s pissed off right now, but underneath that exterior of total assholeishness, he’s just hurt.”

  Syd sighed. Mir had every right to be angry. She’d be angry if it were her. She’d lied. Okay, she hadn’t outright lied, but she’d lied by omission. Same thing, pretty much. “Which way?”

  A look of sympathy painted on his handsome face, Loki pointed her down the hall, and she followed his finger like it showed her the way to the gallows. “Thanks, I’ll get you those schematics. I’ll find Morgane, once I settle things with Mir. She’s human, right?”

  “She is. She’s also my wife. She’ll get you all set up, just come back and find us whenever you’re ready.” His voice softened. “And Syd, welcome to the family, so to speak.”

  She managed a watery smile before heading down to see Mir.

  “What the fuck do you want?” Mir stopped her before she even set foot inside the room. How he knew she was out here, she didn’t know, but it appeared he was going to make this apology thing as difficult as possible.

  “I want to explain.”

  “The fuck you do. You had ample opportunity to tell the truth from the beginning. You made the decision not to. I should have listened to Odin.”

  Her heart skittered. “I’m glad you didn’t. Look. None of this has been easy to handle. Immortal gods? The end of the world? Give me a little leeway.” She took a shaky breath. “And as far as the things McRoy told me? The professor said…a lot of things. Sometimes, lots of times, he had difficulty separating reality from fantasy. He could make his deepest delusions seem perfectly believable. Trust me…”

  “Oh yeah, that’s going to happen.”

  “Damn it, Mir.” She didn’t often swear, but she deserved a chance to explain. “Remember, you and Odin were arguing over whether or not to kill me. If I’d have told you the craziest version of McRoy’s rantings, you never would have taken me seriously.

  “And it wasn’t like you were completely forthcoming, either,” she tacked on, just for good measure. “If you hadn’t listened to me, you wouldn’t know about the stones. I said I wanted to help, and that’s what I’m doing. What I will continue to do,” she promised, feeling like a fool for saying it. Even though it was true.

  She watched his face for any small flicker of movement that what she was saying was getting through. But the man was an impenetrable wall. “You want to judge me? Fine. But being an ass isn’t going to help any of us right now. Give me my laptop and I’ll get going on the schematics that Loki needs to reset the dolmens. Let’s get through that step first, okay? When I’m finished, then we can go head-to-head.”

  Her intent in coming here had been to tell Mir everything. McRoy’s crazy delusions. All of them. Enough about her own insane past so he’d understand. Even her secret, the one she’d never told anyone else. As it was, she was so angry, nose to nose with him, here in the sparkling white infirmary, she could hardly even spit out the most basic of explanations. Such a nice, orderly place, the infirmary. Well, none of what she had to say was going to fall neatly into place.

  Sydney rubbed her forehead. “Look, there was no way to separate what McRoy thought was real from what was fantasy. So yeah, I made a decision to withhold information. Until I realized the entity you were chasing and the professor’s delusional monster were one and the same…could possibly be real…”

  “And what happened in the Throne Room?”

  Yeah, about that…

  “I honestly had no control over any of that. And I didn’t see it coming, either. It was like…” She frowned, brow wrinkling. “It was as if some bigger power took me over, and all that was left was a roaring silence. Between Odin and…” Her voice trailed off, something in her gut withering at the memory.

  “Odin and who? Who else was controlling you?”

  Sydney shook her head, terror building. “I can’t…I...I don’t…” She raised her eyes helplessly to Mir’s.

  And found nothing in his except suspicion.

  “And what about this business of you being a witch? Care to explain that?” His voice was deceptively soft.

  For a moment she considered him. Right now she was so angry and hurt, part of her didn’t believe she owed him a thing. Not an explanation, not a justificat
ion. But the other part… “That was a long time ago. I’m different now. And I’ll never be that person again.”

  Mir huffed out a soft laugh. “For the record, playing around with spellbooks and burning sage doesn’t make someone a witch. Science is more magical than anything you’ll discover in a tarot reading or a scrying bowl.”

  Sydney squeezed her eyes shut and took a breath. She didn’t expect him to understand. She didn’t need him to understand. She had a task to accomplish. Use her knowledge to stop whatever was about to happen.

  “I’m sorry I lied,” she said firmly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth sooner. But I didn’t know what you’d do. By the time I realized you could be trusted, it was too late.” Sydney scanned the room. “Now give me my stuff, and I’ll be out of your hair.” Every word sounded delicate, as if she were made of glass, and he knew it.

  Picking up her pile of stuff, he held it out to her, hesitating. “Morgane’ll show you where to set up. After that maybe I’ll…” Sydney snatched everything away before he had a chance to apologize.

  “Got it.” Syd turned stiffly on her heel and marched for the door. The quicker she was away from him and his self-righteous judgement the better. Who the hell did he think he was anyways? Talking about killing her and then turning all pissy when she dared, dared not to reveal every single secret to them?

  “Which way?”

  “Turn right and at the end of the hall take the elevator up two floors. She’s waiting.” If she noted the hollow ring of regret in his voice, she decided not to acknowledge it. He’d almost sucked her in once. Wasn’t going to happen again.

  “Thanks.” Once she was safely shut in the slowest elevator ever built, she breathed a huge sigh of relief. “I just need to get out of here.” What had, once upon a time, seemed like a grand adventure was swiftly devolving into a spectacular disaster. Of course it was. Once you threw people into the mix, things always got messed up.