by Lauren Dawes
“We’re almost done with our game, buddy,” one of them said, the echo of his shot still resonating around the room.
Loki pushed off the wall and approached the men. “I don’t want to play. I need to ask you all a few questions.”
Another man in the group chalked the end of his cue before lining up his shot. The white ball cracked into the solid green, sending it rolling into a corner pocket. “What kind of questions?” he asked, looking up from his shot.
“About … Odin,” Loki replied, gently testing the waters. All four men stopped what they were doing and stared at him. Then they began laughing at him. Confused, Loki asked, “What’s so funny?”
One of them stopped laughing long enough to say, “The All-Father is nothing but a joke now. I’m not even sure he’s still alive anymore.”
Loki’s rage kindled within him. Odin might not be as powerful as he had been, and he was Loki’s mortal enemy, but he was a god who still demanded respect. And anyone who disrespected him would feel Loki’s anger. His hands curled into fists, ready to lash out. His muscles were tensed, ready to strike, when he stopped himself. He had to control his temper. Killing four Aesireans now would not get him the information he needed.
Exhaling, he fixed them all with a hard stare. “Taking the All-Father for granted is not wise.”
The group laughed out loud again. The first man stepped forward, leaning on his pool cue with two hands. “What could he possibly do to us now, huh? He’s lost his Valkyries. He’s lost his power. Nobody believes in him anymore.” The god turned away, sliding his cue back into the rack hanging on the wall. The others did the same, all of them walking past Loki and back to the bar to order some more drinks.
Frustrated, Loki turned around and made his way to the door. He should not have brought it up so casually. He stepped out into the cool night air, resting his back against the wall beside the door. He knew Odin had to be in Chicago—especially now that he knew Thor was also there—but where was he? And who would know where to find him?
Loki was so lost in his thoughts that his head snapped up suddenly when the door opened beside him, the noise of the bar trailing out after a couple of men as they left. One was blond, the other dark-haired. Loki’s nostrils flared when the faint odor of blood carried on the breeze hit his nose, and he immediately knew what the pair were. Apart from the altercation with Bryn’s Walker while Loki was trying to snatch one of the Valkyries from the street, it had been a very long time since he’d encountered any dark elves with such undiluted blood.
“You need a woman, Rhys. You’re so close to the fucking edge right now,” the dark-haired male said to his friend, leading them away from the club, their backs to Loki.
“I’m fine, Galen” the other man replied, his voice strained, his body tense. His hands were bunched into tight fists at his sides, his shoulders hunched up. The blond—Rhys—looked over his shoulder, pinning Loki to the spot with a piercing glare, and causing Loki to lower his eyes. Pretending to study the ground intently, Loki waited until he heard their footsteps retreating, and then waited a few beats before following them.
He stayed far enough away to avoid detection, but kept them within sight. If they were Walkers as he suspected they were, he could find a use for them. Perhaps he could send them to hunt down Odin, Bryn, or even Thor.
He tracked them to the edge of Humboldt Park, then looked around, trying to figure out what they were doing. It was deserted at this time, and the only humans around looked to be either whores or drug dealers. As they walked along North Avenue, a woman in a short dress stepped into their path.
Sidestepping behind a tree, Loki listened to the exchange between human and dark elf.
“How are you doing, sugar?” the woman asked, and the stench of stale cigarettes and alcohol drifted from her body. “You looking for a good time?”
Loki waited for the Walkers’ response.
“Not me,” Galen said. Gesturing in his friend’s direction, he added, “Him.”
The whore’s eyes wandered over to Rhys, standing behind Galen and slightly to the left. She bit her lip nervously, and Loki could practically see the fear wafting from her body from where he was.
“Well?”
She searched for someone behind her for a moment, but then she seemed to shake herself, and the siren’s mask was back on again. The smile she gave Rhys was full of promises. Slinking over to him, she draped herself over his shoulders, her mouth close to his ear. Loki could see her lips moving, but couldn’t hear what she was saying.
“Do we have a deal?” the other Walker asked.
The woman looked over her shoulder at him before latching her lustful stare back on Rhys. “Oh, yes. We have a deal.”
“Fine.” The word seemed to be gritted out from between his teeth. “How much?”
“Five hundred, and believe me, I’m worth every penny.”
The woman peeled herself off Rhys and reached out her hand, her fingers curling up a few times. Galen reached into his pocket and pulled out some money, holding it in front of the human’s face. She snatched the bills out of his grasp and swiftly shoved them down the front of her dress.
Galen cocked a brow. “Aren’t you going to count it?”
The whore gave him a small shrug. “I trust you.” As she turned to lead them into the park, Loki heard Rhys utter, “You shouldn’t,” under his breath.
“We don’t have another choice,” Galen muttered in reply.
Frustrated, Rhys replied, “You don’t have to stay around for this.”
Galen rounded on him, getting up into his face. “I’m not leaving you. We’re brothers. Where you go, I go. Besides,” he paused, following the woman’s movements with his eyes, “I kind of want to see what she can do now.” He grinned at Rhys, who didn’t return the gesture. Wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulders, Galen dragged him into the park.
Loki followed them, hearing Galen say, “It’s either this or the alternative. At least you get to have your dick sucked this way.” Rhys grunted, but allowed himself to be led away.
As they moved deeper into the park, Loki could see the woman they’d paid up ahead, leaning against a chain link fence surrounding children’s play equipment. There were a few streetlights dotted around the perimeter, but only one of them was still working, its gloomy yellow light barely illuminating a two-foot radius.
Loki found a place behind the trunk of a large oak, hiding himself but still able to watch the exchange.
“Where do you want to do this?” the woman asked, her hand reaching up to touch the bare flesh at the center of her chest.
Galen looked around, taking in the broken lights and the general emptiness of the immediate area, and replied, “Here will do.”
The whore smacked her lips together, pushing herself off the chain link fence. It groaned and rattled, the small sound echoing around the vast park. Her hips undulated under the thin fabric of her dress, as she positioned herself in front of Rhys, running her hands all over his upper body. Loki noted that the Walker looked as if he would rather be skinned alive than have her touching him. A savage, animal sound vibrated through the night air, making the woman pause for a moment to look behind her.
“What was that?” she whispered to nobody in particular, still peering into the darkness engulfing the three of them.
“It was nothing,” Galen said impatiently. “Look, you’ve been paid. Can you please get down to business?”
The woman smiled. “Of course, sugar.” Popping the gum from her mouth, she unzipped Rhys’s pants and snaked her hand inside. The Walker’s head tilted back, his eyes closing to shallow slits.
“So ready for me,” she purred throatily, staring up into Rhys’s face as he succumbed to the sensation of her hand on him.
Loki’s eyes gravitated to Galen. He had thought the Mare would be getting in on the action—after all, those who fight together tend to do everything else together—but he was hanging back, his attention not on what was happeni
ng in front of him, but rather on their surroundings.
He was detached … emotionless.
But he was expectant, too.
The woman’s contrived moans soon turned into pained gasps, and eventually desperate screams. Loki noted how Rhys’s grip tightened on her body, pinning her in place and stopping her escape. Loki wondered whether Galen would stop what was happening, what was clearly no longer a consensual act.
Instead, he waited, his head swinging to the side when a new voice warred with the high-pitched screams of the woman. Loki watched as a man dressed in baggy jeans, a sweatshirt and a baseball cap marched towards them, one hand reaching behind him. The sharp snick of metal on metal rang out into the night.
“Let my whore go!” he yelled, brandishing a weapon in front of him.
The woman stopped screaming long enough to yell out to him. “Glide! Get this bastard off—” Her words were cut off by an even louder scream than before, ragged gasping hiding her new sobs.
Rhys barely gave the human any attention, but when the pimp brought up his weapon, aiming the barrel at Rhys’s head, Galen spoke up.
“I wouldn’t interrupt him right now.” He delivered the words in a steady drawl, looking relaxed and at ease despite the fact that the pimp had a loaded gun aimed at his friend’s head.
The pimp turned towards Galen. “Tell him to let her go, or he gets a bullet through the head,” he warned, thumbing off the safety on the side of the gun.
Rhys finally looked up, and Loki saw his eyes glowing a soft yellow. When his top lip peeled off his teeth in a fierce scowl, Glide took an unsteady step back, his hand shaking slightly.
“Last warning, asshole,” he said, his voice unsteady.
Rhys didn’t stop, forcing Galen to step forward. His actions were a blur. Within seconds, he had broken the pimp’s neck with a resounding crack. The woman, who had not taken her eyes off her supposed savior, began screaming when the human’s body hit the ground.
Her hoarse howls rent the air, guaranteeing someone would surely come to investigate. Hauling the pimp’s body over his shoulder, Galen barked, “Finish,” to Rhys and slipped off into the darkness, the man’s limp arms dangling near the small of his back.
The woman whimpered as she watched him leave, knowing she would not be released from Rhys’s savagery. She looked as if all the fight had gone out of her, her slight body sagging in his arms.
By the time Galen had returned, Rhys was throwing his head back and roaring his release. His whole body shuddered, and he was completely unaware that the woman had lost consciousness.
Rhys blinked rapidly, clearly returning to his senses, and he blanched—his grip loosening. Before the woman’s body could fall, Galen took up the slack. With gritted teeth, he told Rhys to go home.
Rhys looked at the female, something akin to regret in his eyes. “What about—”
“I’ll take care of it.”
Rhys’s gaze hardened and, with a snarl, he faded away from the park, leaving Galen alone with the unconscious woman. Lowering her to the ground, Galen dug a hand into his pocket and withdrew a phone. After hitting a few numbers, he held the device to his ear.
“Yeah, there’s an unconscious woman at the north-east corner of Humboldt Park, near the kids’ play equipment.”
Loki could hear the voice of the emergency dispatcher on the other end of the line trying to get more information from him, but Galen ended the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He pulled out a wad of cash from another pocket and shoved it inside the top of her dress.
Before turning to leave, Galen paused and knelt beside the woman. “You were right. You were worth every penny.”
Chapter 7
Taer found herself having the same dream she’d had so many times before. And it appeared to be the same as it always was, except as she listened to the final rasping breaths of her brother, a dark, maniacal laugh echoed through the room, congealing the blood in her veins.
She wasn’t alone.
The air shifted around her suddenly, the sound of footsteps coming closer, punctuating the otherwise near silence. Squeezing her eyes shut, Taer waited for them to disappear; she willed them away. This was her dream, after all. The closer they got to her, the more her body was wracked by shivers.
“Open your eyes.” The dark voice dripped with malice.
Taer woke with a gasp and sat up rigidly in the bed, unable to shake the echoes of that voice from her ears. Her heartbeat was so loud it was drowning out her harsh, labored breathing. Like before, her chest was tight—so damn tight that it felt as if something heavy was lying across it.
Like dead weight.
Like your brother’s dead body.
She swallowed down on her dry throat, wincing at the way the scarred skin stretched with the movement. Her hand clutched at the base of her throat, her fingers rubbing against the raised tissue.
Her eyes slid to the other side of the room. Eir was still asleep, her back turned towards her. The blanket thrown over her body was rising and falling, and Taer let out a relieved breath. The last thing she wanted to do was wake the Valkyrie up. She’d practically worked a twenty-four-hour shift at the hospital the day before.
Throwing the blankets from her body, Taer swung her legs around and off the bed, letting her toes curl into the carpet. She sat there for a few moments, letting her racing heart slow down before getting up. She tugged at the bottom of her oversized tee to straighten it and opened the door quietly.
She padded out into the living room and curled up on the couch with her legs drawn to her chest. Resting her chin on the top of her knees, Taer stared at nothing in particular on the floor.
She liked how quiet and dark this apartment was. At their house, before it had been burned down by Darrion, there was always some sort of noise or light. She’d always wake up in the middle of the night after a dog barked or a siren wailed up the street. She had felt safe there, but she supposed that was because her brother and Korvain were there. Now it was just her and Korvain, and her heart ached. She missed Adrian so much.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
Taer was jolted from her thoughts by the whispered voice, her legs stretching out, her body prepared for a fight.
Eir was leaning against the wall, her pajamas rumpled and her hair disheveled.
Taer shook her head. “Sorry,” she muttered, looking away. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t.”
Taer looked back at the Valkyrie. Eir shrugged, looking down at her hands, flexing them into delicate fists before releasing them. “My palms are still bothering me a little.”
Taer stared at the goddess. Everything about her was gentle—from the way she spoke to the way she acted so selflessly, but Taer had learned early on that weakness and compassion would get you killed.
“Do you mind?” Eir asked, indicating to the other side of the couch. Taer shrugged, self-consciously pulling at the top of her shirt as she watched Eir sit down. The Valkyrie let out a heavy sigh and rested her head back against the couch cushion. Taer watched her eyelids flutter shut and could sense the burden that weighed on her shoulders.
Eir had lost her twin sister at the same time that Taer had lost Adrian, yet Eir seemed so much more … put together than she did. Taer was running on the desire for revenge, whereas Eir was still willing to help people, to go to the hospital and share her gift of healing.
“I don’t know how you do it,” Taer murmured faintly, causing Eir’s eyes to open suddenly. After seeing Eir’s puzzled expression, Taer added, “How you can still want to give to people—to the humans—when your twin sister was taken from you?”
Eir blinked at her and shrugged. “Everyone deals with grief in a different way.”
Taer brought one leg beneath her body and turned towards Eir.
“I’m not pretending she hasn’t died,” the Valkyrie said, studying Taer’s face. “A part of me died with my sister, but I can’t let that feeling swamp me, because if I
do …” Eir stopped, her words drifting off.
“If you do, you feel like you’ll never find your way back to the light again?” Taer asked, staring down at her hands in her lap. She was there … lost in the darkness.
“Yes,” Eir replied almost inaudibly. “Just like that. I never want to forget Kristy, but sometimes when I think about her for too long, I feel as if I’m falling down into a black pit of despair, and no matter how hard I fight, I fear that I’ll never really be able to pull myself free again.”
Taer shuddered, knowing exactly how that felt. She’d found herself in a dark place after Korvain told her what had happened to her brother. When she was alone with her thoughts, she found herself dwelling on the actions that had led to Adrian’s death. Maybe if she had faded straight away to remove herself from the situation when Adrian had told her to, none of this would have ever happened. But she’d taken a step towards Darrion to move around him, and he’d grabbed her arm, making her unable to fade.
Adrian had only been trying to protect her.
The rage she had seen in his green eyes had scared her, but not as much as being pinned to Darrion’s chest had scared her. She’d felt sick, trapped there, knowing he could do whatever he wanted to her. Taer’s hand wrapped around her throat again in an attempt to shield herself from the memories.
“I think I’ll try and get some sleep,” Taer lied, her words drawing Eir’s blue eyes to her face. She began to get up, but Eir’s warm fingers wrapped gently around her forearm, stopping her.
“You know you can talk to me about Adrian.”
Taer shrugged. “There’s nothing to say,” she said, her voice hard and unyielding.
“Taer.” Eir’s tone was softly chiding.
“I’m fine!” Taer replied, turning away, her hands curling into tight fists.
“I’m just worried about you—Korvain is too. We just want you to be all right.”
Without turning around, Taer uttered the most untruthful words she’d ever said in her life. “I am all right.”