by Brook Rogers
We didn’t speak. Probably because we both realized exactly what a dumpster fire life had just become. Eventually I broke the silence. “We need to get the fairies to a healer.”
His voice was much steadier than mine. “A healer can’t fix this. The Queen had them powering a containment spell to keep the Manticore from following the stone. When you removed the first one, it broke the spell. Their natural magic has been drained, but they should recover in a few days. Let’s leave them at my place for now. Finding that stone and stopping the Manticore are the priorities. Legend says that monster has a taste for flesh.”
I had serious doubts about how fast we could get any of that done. We couldn’t just kill the creature, because we needed it to lead us to the stone, and trying to stop it from slaughtering people along the way sounded like an impossible task. Going to Enforcement would be pointless; they only had jurisdiction over the human realm. I had to let Grand-mère know what was happening.
Dubhlain was right though. Getting to that stone before the Queen could use it was the most important thing. If she succeeded in opening the gate, the evil contained in the Underworld would pour out into every realm in existence—not just ours.
“More weapons,” I muttered absently.
Dubhlain must have heard me, because he agreed. “Hella more. Swords, guns, diamond grenades—whatever you want. I can hook you up.” His eyes twinkled at the prospect of a hunt.
His enthusiasm was somewhat contagious, but why did he make it sound as if I was going? With his antiquated opinions about women, I’d expected him to try to make me stay somewhere “safe.” Of course, there was no way I was going to sit this one out, but he couldn’t know that. Could he?
I decided to let things play out and see how long this new attitude would last.
Those big hands drew complex configurations in the air, and what I now recognized as portal runes flashed on his arms. “I bet Conall and Bran are gonna want in on this one.” He chuckled to himself.
“Are they berserkers too?” If I really was going to do this thing, I wanted to know exactly who I’d be working with.
He stopped short and studied me for a while, then finally nodded. I smiled and inclined my head, a silent thanks for his trust in our partnership.
The bond gave a thump, startling me, and suddenly I had the irresistible need to move—to shake off the sudden doubts creeping in, the questions about what this connection between us meant. Pivoting back, I strode through the portal, and Dubhlain trailed behind me.
Knowing that more than one of Infinity’s elite would be joining us actually did make me feel better. I would give everything I had to stop the gate from opening—even my life. But I couldn’t stop the nagging fear that it still might not be enough.
We walked out of the portal and into a large grassy clearing surrounded by thick fir trees. A two-story log home with a big front porch butted up to the forest. I recalled Dubhlain saying we were taking the fairies to “his place,” so was this where he lived? The air was thinner here—definitely a mountain region of some sort, but no snow, so probably the lower elevations. It was still annoyingly cold though, and I started to shiver.
The way Dubhlain took off toward the cabin, without even a pause, made it clear he expected me to follow. His long legs ate up the ground, and I had to jog every few steps to keep up. I told myself this wasn’t about submission. The walking helped warm me up. Plus, if I was going to acquire more sharp, cutting things, I had to go in the same direction he was going. That was all.
As our boots landed loudly on the steps to the porch, I told him I needed to make some phone calls.
“Sure.” He held the door open for me. “I have a landline you can use.”
I covered my mouth to hide my snicker. Of course a five-hundred-year-old would still have a landline. He gave me some side-eye, so I grinned and batted my lashes as I brushed past him.
When I stepped inside, that chocolate-and-smoke smell of his was so concentrated it made my knees a little weak. My mouth watered. No wonder my control around him was so crappy; the guy smelled like a snack.
Dark, comfortable-looking furniture was arranged in front of a rock fireplace, whose log mantel held a flat-screen TV. Columns of that same rock, combined with wrought iron, made up the staircase that led to the second level. The room’s minimal decoration mostly incorporated actual design concepts rather than just cluttering the space up with stuff. It definitely said a man lived here, but in an oddly welcoming way. I set my bag o’ fairies on the couch.
“Phone is in there.” Dubhlain gestured ahead of him on his way through the living room, then peeled off to the left and trotted up the stairs, leaving me to wander into the kitchen. It was open concept, with a lot of natural light coming in from a row of huge windows behind the dining table.
Finding the phone on the counter beside a stainless-steel refrigerator, I wasted no time punching in the number.
“Hello?” Grand-mère’s voice held a note of suspicion; I was grateful she’d even answered the unfamiliar number.
“It’s me.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the gods, Raywen. You don’t know how close I was to sending people after you.”
Just hearing the genuine concern behind those words buoyed my spirits in a way nothing else could. After telling her I was calling from an Infinity member’s phone, I immediately launched into the explanation about the outcasts. She listened without comment until I divulged the part about the Manes stone, at which she sucked in a startled breath.
“I’m putting together a team,” she said. “Two people can’t mitigate the carnage the Manticore is going to create on its way to retrieve the stone.” Then, to herself, she added, “There’ll be a fine line between those who can actually be of some help and cannon fodder.”
That was the truth. A lot of people would want to help if they knew what was happening. Unfortunately, many of them weren’t equipped to battle that kind of monster. The last thing any of us wanted was for people to die needlessly.
When she paused, I told her there would be more Infinity coming. I really wanted to tell her three berserkers could handle it, and she didn’t need to worry. But that wasn’t my secret to tell.
“Once I have my people assembled, I’ll be there,” she pressed on as if she hadn’t heard what I said.
The idea of Grand-mère fighting that thing made me shudder. It wasn’t that I didn’t think she was capable; I just didn’t want her at risk. She was one of only two people I loved with every fiber of my being. If anything happened to her, it would absolutely break me.
I knew better than to insist she stay out of it though. It would only spur her into the fray that much quicker. Giving her the mining camp location as our starting point, I held on to the hope that Dubhlain and I could get the stone and contain the Manticore before she even got there.
I hung up, slightly sick at the enormity of the task before us. I had one more call to make, and then I would force the complicated, but smoking-hot, berserker to deliver on that promise of awesome weaponry.
When I called Megan’s number, it rang and rang before finally going to voicemail. If I had my cell phone, I could have texted her, but I’d left it in my car back in Arkansas. Phones didn’t work in the other realms, and portal crossings fried them.
With a sigh, I gave up on reaching her and replaced the handset.
Dubhlain was coming down the stairs as I returned to the living room. His hair was damp and his scent less noticeable, so he must have showered. He’d also changed his pants and put on a new shirt. I had to admit, I was a little bummed he’d covered up all that muscle.
“You ready?” he asked when he stepped off the last step.
I smiled. “Yep. Show me the good stuff.”
When his eyebrows shot up, I realized what I’d said. My cheeks grew warm, but I wasn’t all that sorry. Giving him a small grin, I tapped one of my pistols meaningfully.
Disappointment flashed across his features,
but he covered it quickly. “This way.”
He led me to the other side of the kitchen and into a laundry room, pulled up a trapdoor, and flipped on a light that illuminated a set of narrow steps. At least this time when I went underground with him, I’d be able to see.
The stairs ended in an unfinished basement with stark concrete walls and some weightlifting equipment stationed in the middle. I watched his back disappear around a corner and found myself trying to catch up. Again.
When I reached him, he had already started pulling items off the wall of a small concrete-encased room, its vault-type door standing open behind him. The collection he had down here made my panties a little damp. The variety of swords and knives, as well as the revolving gun racks—holding everything from a tiny .22 derringer to a rocket launcher—blew my expectations out of the water. My palms itched with excitement.
“Help yourself.” Dubhlain pulled up a duffel bag and started placing weapons inside.
I beelined to a Benelli SuperNova Tactical shotgun and picked it up. Sighting down it, I checked the balance. It felt good. “Do you have any diamonds for this?”
He grinned, that damned dimple making my pulse stutter.
“Sure do.” He turned to a built-in set of drawers, opened the top one, and tossed out a box of shells. I caught them one-handed. Spying several ammo belts hanging on a hook, I sifted through them and found one that would work. After transferring the shells into it, I strapped it on diagonally, over one shoulder, so it wouldn’t interfere with the draw on my pistols.
Something had been bothering me ever since we’d been forced to flee the collapsing mine. Now was as good a time as any to bring it up. “How’d you figure out they took the Manes stone?”
He stopped shoving grenades in his duffel and glanced up. “The runes inscribed around the pool. It took me a while to decipher what they meant, because they’re in an old style nobody uses anymore. Hell, I doubt if most even know it exists. Too bad I didn’t get all of it translated before we had to leave.” He lowered his brows at me in accusation, as if it was my fault his sleuthing had been cut short.
I gave him a flat stare. When it came to saving those who couldn’t save themselves, I wasn’t going to walk away. Right before I worked myself into a mad fit, ready to throw down on him right then, the slightest uptick at the corner of his mouth stopped me short. He was teasing me. I scowled, and he turned away to pull a machete from the wall.
There was no easy way to bring up the other thing that had plagued me, so I decided to just rip it off like a Band-Aid.
“Why were you in that dungeon cell?”
He froze for a moment, then cracked his neck from side to side before rounding on me. “I’ll make you a deal. If we manage to survive this, I’ll answer any questions you have. I want no more secrets between us.”
I squinted at him. He offered that up so quickly, without even any prodding on my part.
“And then you can tell me how you managed to hit me so hard the night we met,” he added.
My inner victory dance came to a screeching halt. I didn’t actually know how I did that. Fuck. I was gaining abilities and didn’t know why—abilities that no valkyrie had. Uncertainty rose in my chest, thick and suffocating. He might be willing to give up his secrets, but was I?
Shaking off the uncomfortable direction my thoughts had taken, I gathered up those worries and stuffed them into my mental box. There would be time to examine all of that later, when our lives weren’t hanging in the balance.
Dubhlain extended his hand, and I pursed my lips. Silence stretched between us.
Finally, I grabbed his hand with my much smaller one. “Deal.”
Miss Kitty cheered.
Chapter 16
We arranged the fairies on the couches so I could have use of my bag again. The plan was to just leave them here, and when they woke, they could portal to wherever they needed to go. And since it wasn’t my house, if they turned out to be a bunch of destructive savages, it wouldn’t be my problem.
When I asked if I could take a quick shower, Dubhlain showed me to a full bath downstairs, just off the living room. I had one last clean tank top but was forced to put my dirty pants back on. Obviously, nothing of his would fit. And if he did happen to have another woman’s clothes here, I damn sure wasn’t going to wear them.
I scrunched my nose. Where did that sudden jealousy come from? We weren’t even seeing each other. Chalk it up to yet another bullshit effect of the bond. The list was getting long.
He told me Conall and Bran had been on assignment for Infinity. Fortunately, they were working here and not in another realm, or he wouldn’t have been able to reach them at all. They were supposed to arrive any time.
I guess that was a perk of being so highly skilled. The fact that Infinity was sending them alone to handle this spoke volumes about these men and their value.
It also put me as the odd man out. I didn’t come with a history of grand accomplishments that qualified me for this job, but nobody had tried to send me home either. That buoyed my flagging self-confidence a bit. Besides, I wouldn’t have gone home anyway. The outcome was too important to me and the people I loved.
When I came out of the bathroom, Dubhlain had a couple sandwiches made, and we ate them while we finished packing. He offered me some protein bars to add to my dwindling stash of jerky, and I slid the last of my refilled water bottles into my pack just as Bran walked in the door.
His youthful countenance still almost tricked my brain into thinking he was barely twenty, even though I now knew he was close to the same age as Dubhlain, give or take fifteen years—and really, what was fifteen years over the span of five hundred? He carried an air of mischief about him that the other two probably lost long before they became berserkers. Conall stood outside the door, talking on his cell phone.
Bran slapped Dubhlain on the shoulder, a gleam in his eye. “Let’s get rolling, man. We already stopped at our places and got what we needed.”
They all wore the same dark T-shirt and black tactical pants. I was coming to suspect that might be the only clothes they owned.
Dubhlain shouldered his duffel. “I assume Therese is giving him shit?”
They both glanced to the man on the porch.
Bran laughed. “Every day, man, every day. You gotta love ’em and leave ’em, I say. Keeps the stress levels down.” He winked at me, trying to lighten the mood, and I gave him a nod for his efforts. “Good to see you again, Enforcer.”
Dubhlain looked murderous at Bran’s wink but pulled himself together.
I shook Bran’s extended hand. “I appreciate that you didn’t come in swinging this time.”
His pale cheeks pinkened. He started to apologize again, but I waved it away with a smile. I probably shouldn’t tease him, but it was fun to make him squirm, especially after the comment he just made. Dubhlain wasn’t the only berserker who was clueless about women.
Dubhlain watched our exchange, baffled. I guess when Bran explained to his brother how the rest of the night at the bar panned out, he hadn’t included how he and Conall “incapacitated” me. Interesting.
Clearly irritated at being out of the loop, Dubhlain snapped, “Come on,” then led us out of the house.
Conall ended his call as we exited, tossing his phone on the porch swing. He picked up a black bag similar to his brothers’ and fell in beside us, and we walked back to the little clearing where Dubhlain and I had arrived.
“I made the last one.” Conall’s eyes darted between the other two men.
Dubhlain heaved a sigh and held his hand out, palm down. “We’ve all done one today then.”
The other two layered their hands on top of his with grim acceptance, bracing themselves as though whatever came next was going to hurt. What were they doing? I watched, fascinated.
“I’ll hold it, but don’t dick around,” he added, spearing both men with a pointed look. Conall and Bran nodded in agreement, then they all closed their eyes. A red haze
spiraled out from their middles, drifting to their joined hands. The different strands slithered over one another like a rolling ball of serpents.
“Stop petting me like that, Bran. It’s fecking creepy,” Conall said with a frown, his accent bleeding through more heavily. I was noticing that when their emotions ran high or they were intensely focused, they slipped back into a native speech pattern. Old habits die hard, I guess.
Bran only laughed in response. Dubhlain cleared his throat, and they all snapped ramrod straight as the ball of magic gained momentum in its circuit around their hands. The crimson hue faded, replaced by a white glow as the velocity peaked. A loud clap, like the popping of a balloon, split the air, and we were all thrown backward.
I rolled onto one elbow, breathing hard. Bran and Conall had already leaped to their feet and were grabbing their bags, while Dubhlain was still trying to sit up.
A portal spun raggedly in front of us.
Bran came over to help me stand. “Gotta be moving now, sweets.” With a grin, he tugged me toward the portal.
“You good?” Conall asked Dubhlain, pulling him up. When he nodded, the bearded man stepped through the portal.
Sweat trickled off Dubhlain’s forehead—he was fighting to hold the portal open for us. Without another second’s hesitation, I hurried through, with Bran close behind.
We popped out in the clearing where we had battled the Manticore. The heat of the Hell Plane draped its oppression over us, and a sheen of sweat immediately filmed my face, negating my earlier shower. We all waited for Dubhlain to come across.
The spinning of the portal grew unstable, and I held my breath as the seconds ticked by. Conall shot Bran a worried glance.
I was just about to do something incredibly stupid, like jump through a failing portal, when Dubhlain finally leaped out. The shaky portal winked into nothing at almost the exact moment his feet hit the ground. He stumbled a step, breathing hard, and Conall threw out a hand to balance him.