Defender (Night War Saga Book 2)

by S. T. Bende

  “Yes!” Greta shouted. “You did it!”

  I opened one eye, then exhaled in relief. The house was fire-free. And I’d actually managed to crack my first energy whip without hurting my friend. Thank God.

  “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  I jumped at the sound of Tore’s gruff voice. My focus ebbed, and my whip went back into limp noodle mode before slowly fizzling out. Oops. I turned my head toward the doorway and gave my favorite protector a wink as Greta charged at him, waving her hands as if he were a household pest.

  “Get out of here. You’re distracting my student,” Greta admonished.

  Tore’s gaze moved up and down my body, lingering on my chest for a second longer than necessary. My temperature rose at his appreciative stare. Yum. “You’re bringing that whip on the vacation we talked about,” he ordered.

  My brain ran through a thousand scenarios, each more blush-worthy than the last. When I finally managed to squeak out a weak “okay,” Tore had already turned on one heel and marched down the hallway. His black cargos hugged the muscles of his butt with each step. The boy deserved a trophy for that butt.

  My resolve to learn all the things strengthened tenfold. We were going to defeat Nott super-fast, or I was going to lose my mind. I really needed to take that vacation.

  Greta sighed wistfully. “Young love.”

  “What about you?” I hurriedly changed the subject. “Dating anyone?”

  I wasn’t just deflecting; I genuinely wanted to know if she was interested in Bodie. Maybe the whole bloody kiss incident wasn’t the big deal he thought it was.

  Greta knelt down to rifle through her backpack. “I don’t have time to date. We’re way understaffed in Asgard. Maybe I’ll be able to think about guys when the realm gets a few more healers.”

  Hmm. A quick scan of Greta’s energy revealed a brown blob over her heart. It flickered for the briefest moment but disappeared before I could follow its trail to the source. Dark spots in the fourth center usually indicated an emotional injury, and I wanted to ask my friend if everything was okay. But Greta continued rifling through healing supplies without offering up any additional information. It seemed pretty clear she didn’t want to talk about her dating life—and it wasn’t my place to outright ask who had hurt her heart. I’d just have to hope she’d open up to me in time.

  “What the . . . oh, Hel.” Greta jumped backward, dropping her backpack onto the ground. With a loud clatter, a large, glass jar rolled out of Greta’s sack and onto the wood floor. A furry, brown creature flopped around inside. It shimmered with a sticky energy unlike anything I’d seen before. The creature raised its head slowly, as if it was just coming into consciousness. When it opened the lids of its beady, crimson eyes, I was hit with a wave of darkness. My stomach churned as nausea rolled through me. Yikes. Whatever this creature was, it was bigtime bad news.

  “Did you bring that thing here?” I balked.

  “Not knowingly.” Greta’s eyes widened. “I’d have sensed that energy a mile away. It must have been severely sedated—almost to the point of death.”

  At Greta’s last word, the creature clawed its way out of the jar and scurried toward the couch. It had most definitely left death’s door.

  “What is that thing?” I backed up so my shoulder blades were pressed against the fireplace.

  “Don’t move, Allie.” Greta scooped up her bag and shoved her hand inside. She withdrew a handful of crystals and flung them at each corner of the living room. Now the earlier perimeter was inlaid with clusters of thick, white stones.

  “Wasn’t planning on it,” I muttered. “Unless that thing comes back out from under the—oh my God!”

  The creature darted across the living room, gunning it for the hallway. When it reached the crystals, it jumped backward as if it had been shocked.

  “Good. The protection’s holding. Careful, Allie. That creature is extremely dangerous.”

  “What the hell is it?” I asked again.

  “It’s a fire-breathing rat from Muspelheim. We found a portal not far from the healing unit, and before we could seal it off, a few of these little monsters snuck through. I thought the warriors destroyed them all, though. I have no idea how one got into my bag.” Greta shuddered. I didn’t blame her. A hitchhiking fire-breather was about the worst surprise I could imagine.

  “Why didn’t you notice it was in your bag when you were removing the crystals in the first—oh my God, it’s moving again!” My butt slammed into the corner of the couch as I leapt from the path of the red-eyed rodent. Its pointy, yellow fangs snapped angrily as it circled the living room.

  “It was inside the energy containment vessel—the jar I use to trap dark energy that I pull from patients. It was empty when I packed it . . .” Greta sidestepped the creature with considerably more calm than I felt. Her eyes narrowed. “Someone must have placed the rat in there.”

  Oh, come on. Couldn’t a girl catch a break? “Who would do that?”

  Greta ran her bottom lip between her teeth. “Someone who knew I was coming here . . . who knew I’d have access to the safe house. Allie, this is not good.”

  Well, no skit.

  Without warning, the rat raised its scraggly head to reveal two tendrils of smoke streaming from its nose.

  “How do we get rid of it?” I blurted.

  “Get that light whip running, Allie. You’re going to have to kill it.”

  Crazy Asgardian healer said what? “I don’t know if I can—”

  “Do you want to have to explain to Mack why his imported rug got singed by a fire-breather? Or worse, why his entire living room went up in flames?” Greta stared at the now-snarling animal.

  Of course I didn’t. I wasn’t sure what scared me more—a fire-breathing rodent or the wrath of Midgard’s tidiest protector. I wrapped my arms around my chest and held tight. This exercise was not what I’d had in mind when Greta popped in for our lesson.

  Though in all fairness, Greta seemed equally surprised at the recent turn of events. Stupid, hitchhiking rat.

  “You ready?” Greta raised one perfectly-shaped brow.

  “I . . . uh . . .” I hemmed.

  “Think fast, Allie. One of these burned down an entire village in Alfhiem last year. They’re awful little monsters—they’re crawling with dark energy, and they’re only too happy to infect you with it. Don’t feel bad about killing this one.”

  At the mention of dark energy, icicles wove through my vertebrae. I willed them back down with an audible gulp. This was not the time to reminisce about the hell I’d experienced in Jotunheim.

  “Wait.” I paused. “There was a rat in Alfheim? I thought you said they were from Muspelheim. How’d one get onto Mack’s realm?”

  “Don’t know.” Greta shrugged. “The fire giants could have sent one through a portal. Or maybe one snuck back with one of the light elf warriors when he returned from a training mission.”

  The thought of this creature hurting Mack’s family—my god family—and their beautiful village set me on edge. I was on board with killing the tiny beast.

  “All right. I’ll try.” I drew a breath and called forth the Liv. Energy surged from my chest, filled my shoulder, and cascaded down my arm like a beautiful, blue waterfall. The power pooled in my hand but refused to mold into the weapon I needed it to be. My eyes met Greta’s in a hopeful look. “Can you help me?”

  “Sorry.” Greta shook her head. “You have to learn to do it yourself.”

  A frustrated grunt escaped my lips as the sharp-fanged rodent let out a low hiss. I was all for tough love when the situation warranted it, but this was taking it too far. Even Socrates would have abandoned his teaching method if his students were faced with fire-breathing rats. Then again, Socrates wouldn’t have made his students kill demon rodents, period. Greta had some serious issues.

  “Tick tock, Allie. It’s going to start snorting flames.”

  Crap.

  I focused my energy on the
Liv—my only defense against the flame-breather clawing at the ground. My hands moved deftly up and down as I molded my weapon. The sound of air hissing through teeth and claws scuttling against the hardwood floor drew my attention back to the rat. It was on the move again, running frantically across the living room. When it slammed against the crystal border, it shrank backward with a snarl.

  “Focus!” Greta called out. I studied my hands, only to discover the Liv was still more ‘wet noodle’ than ‘fierce light whip.’ Dang it.

  “You haven’t been doing your meditations,” Greta scolded.

  She was right. My days at the safe house were so over-scheduled that I didn’t have time to meditate until the very end of the day. And since Tore walked me to my room every night, and said walks tended to result in pretty intense make-out sessions—sessions that lasted until Mack charged down the stairs and demanded we break it up so I’d be rested for morning training . . . well, meditation had taken a backseat to the study of Tore’s lips.

  I had zero regrets about my choice.

  “The rat’s going to breathe fire on Mack’s area rug if you don’t pull it together,” Greta sing-songed.

  Crappers. I snapped back to attention, releasing my thoughts of Tore’s masterful lips and focusing really hard on the Liv. The energy was an extension of me, of every living thing that was good in the realms. It had chosen me to manifest itself in, at least until it could return to my mother, and I would not let it down. With my resolve, the limp noodle stiffened in my grasp. The fine rope of the light whip formed, sparking to life with an energetic jolt. I grinned. One crispy rat, coming right up.

  “The rat’s breath is smoking,” Greta warned. “Mack’s not going to be happy if you don’t do something to save his rug. Step it up, Allie.”

  I focused my gaze on the spot where the rat stamped its little feet. The creature was backed against the couch, its scraggly-haired head turning from Greta’s crystal wands to my blue whip and back again. It must have determined I was the lesser threat, because it lowered its head and charged at me. With a sharp flick of my wrist, my weapon emitted a loud crack. At the sound, the rat turned one hundred and eighty degrees and scurried back toward the couch. A steady stream of fire flowed from its mouth as it ran. Yikes. The trail wasn’t very long, but it was low to the ground, and packed a powerful heat. I cringed at the singed black balls now resting atop the area rug. Mack was going to kill me. Ratty needed to die, like yesterday. I raised and lowered my arm, then snapped it back up with a fierce movement. The rodent was a step ahead of me, scuttling out of the way just before my whip cracked. The blue light lashed against the carpet, and for a second, I feared Mack would have a second reason to want to kill me. Thankfully, a quick study of the carpet revealed no Liv-inflicted damage. Whew.

  I spun on my heels to track the rat’s trajectory across the living room. The little rodent was gunning it for a gap in the crystal perimeter. Not today, buddy. I lined up my arm and cracked the whip again, this time lashing the rat right in the mid-section. He let out a horrifying shriek and keeled over, dead. Two distinct colors rose from his body—one was a white wisp, the other a black swirl. I zeroed in on the black one and snapped my whip at it until the blue energy of my weapon eviscerated the darkness. When the black swirl was gone, I searched for the white wisp, only to discover it was gone, too—it had seemingly vanished into the air. Could it have been his soul? If it was, then that would have made the dark spiral . . . its curse? Possession?

  My world shifted on its axis. I’d had a darkness trapped inside of me, and it had been a living nightmare. I’d had no control over my body, my feelings, even my own thoughts. It was like I’d been possessed. Was there any chance that was what had happened to the rat? Could the white wisp have been its once-pure soul, while the black was the darkness that controlled it? For the first time, I wondered if maybe by killing a dark-infested creature, I might actually be freeing it from a life it hadn’t chosen for itself. Maybe, in a weird way, I’d just done that rat a favor.

  “Great job, Allie.” Greta scooped the deceased rat into the jar. She tucked the container into her bag and crossed to newly-blackened spots on the rug. “Hmm. A little help?”

  “Oh, I can’t heal rugs,” I demurred.

  “No, silly, help me move the couch. You push, I’ll pull.” She placed her hands on the arm of the sectional and waited for me to join her. With a shrug, I crossed to the far side and pushed. We shifted the couch six inches, until it covered the burn marks. “See?” Greta clapped her hands. “No problem.”

  Oh, bless her heart. She really thought Mack wouldn’t notice. She had no idea he’d feng shui-ed that living room to within an inch of its life. He probably measured the furniture for maximum chi flow while the rest of us slept. Sooner or later, Mack would come to know that the rug had been ruined, and there would be a reckoning. I only hoped I’d be on that elusive vacation when the big day came.

  “I’ll go dispose of this guy, and then we can celebrate,” Greta said as she skipped toward the kitchen with the rat-filled jar. The back door slammed behind her as she exited into the chilly Vancouver air. The fact that I simply watched her go was a testament to the level of weird that had become my life. Killed a fire-breathing rat; weirdness level nine-hundred achieved.

  The Liv simmered down then, going dormant inside my chest. I lowered myself onto the newly-repositioned sectional and kicked my feet up. Accessing the Liv was always invigorating, but it usually left me exhausted, too. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes, intent on catching a moment’s peace before Greta returned with her next insane training exercise. But a gust of icy wind forced my eyes open much sooner than I’d intended. Mack and Tore stepped through the front door and hurriedly closed it behind them to ebb the surge of snowflakes pushing their way into the warmth of our cabin.

  “Still snowing, huh?” I pushed myself up on my elbows.

  “It’s coming down hard,” Tore confirmed. He shot me a dimpled grin, and my cheeks warmed. Hello, gorgeous.

  Mack stamped his feet on the doormat, then tilted his chin up to sniff the air. “What’s that smell? Are you cooking again, Allie?” His eyes narrowed as he studied the room. “And did somebody move the furniture?”

  My stomach clenched, and I stammered out an awkward, “Um,” before I bit down on my bottom lip. Since my lying skills were abysmal, I decided to avoid the question. “I have to go to the bathroom,” I blurted. Then I rushed from the room to the sound of Tore’s amused chuckle.

  If someone had told me a few months ago that I’d be living with four immortals and killing fire-breathing rats in my spare time, I would have thought they were crazy. Not only was that my reality, but in the morning, I’d be leaving for a realm populated by dwarves, where I’d need a magic, glowy whip to protect myself from God-only-knew what. And there was a very real chance I might die trying to retrieve the pieces of a mystical weapon from the immortal embodiment of darkness.

  My life was a hot mess.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “BODIE, WEAPON COUNT.” TORE barked his request. The guys and I were huddled in a tight circle in the snow-covered clearing in front of the safe house. The blizzard must have temporarily worn itself out—now only a light dusting of flakes fell from the heavy, grey clouds. Since we didn’t know how long the reprieve would last, we needed to Bifrost out of Vancouver before the gale-force snowstorm returned. Hence, Tore’s clipped demand.

  “I’ve got a few special tools in my backpack, and everybody’s got their daggers and travel weapons of choice.” Bodie counted off on his fingers. “Broadswords for you and me, katanas for Johann, a crossbow for Mack, and Allie’s got her sword, her armor, and the Liv.”

  “Don’t forget her whip,” Tore added. Heat flooded my cheeks as one corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. “Can’t wait to see you get your hands on that again, Pepper.”

  Bodie snickered. “That’s what she said.”

  “And, he’s back.” Johann rolled his eyes. “Glad
Greta caught the early Bifrost out of here so we could get you back to normal.”

  “Shut up,” Bodie muttered.

  I was about to suggest that Bodie ask Greta out already, now that he was all grown-up and coordinated enough to not teeth-mash her face and all. But before I could offer my two cents, Tore jumped back into combat mode.

  “Huginn’s note said the dark entities were spotted due east of the Nordein range,” he said. “On a slightly smaller mountain called Einermajer.”

  “Einer-whatter?” I muttered. Seriously, was it that hard to have normal-named mountains? Big mountain, green mountain, little mountain . . .

  “Everybody suited up?” Tore looked around, and we nodded. Each of us wore what was apparently the protector traveling uniform—cargos, combat boots, and V-neck shirts, all in black, of course. We also wore a thin, waterproof, zip-up jacket over our t-shirts, and supply-laden packs on our backs. And while most of us had swords slung in holsters at our waists, I was the only one with a layer of Asgardian-issued silver covering one limb. My armor rested comfortably against my left arm, between my t-shirt and my jacket. If our previous trips had been any indicator, I’d need every advantage when we dropped into the foreign realm.

  I patted my boot, where my favorite dagger was tucked snugly beside my ankle. “Let’s get a move on.”

  “Heimdall!” Tore looked skyward. “Send down the Bifrost!”

  We stepped closer together as a fierce wind whipped the snow in a tight tornado, and a burst of colors filled the clearing. Tore wrapped a protective arm around my shoulders while I tucked my face against his chest. My back still got pelted with snow, but at least my cheeks were free of the icy flakes that whirled upward. Plus, I got to smell Tore’s jacket. Pine and winter and spearmint and yum.