Death's Daughter

by L. A. McGinnis

  “You should have killed her.”

  Tyr nodded faintly. “Perhaps. She begged me for it enough times.”

  “This time, there was no home to take her back to. She remembered nothing of the castle, the village, what had happened. What she’d done. So I told her that I’d done it. The God of War had yearned for vengeance. Demanded his due. And she believed me.”

  “You lied.” Celine’s voice turned disbelieving. “Why would you tell her that, Tyr?”

  He shrugged. “I’m easy to hate, especially back then. She’d never been whole if she knew the truth of what she’d done. And since I was the one who cursed her in the first place...”

  “You were the one to blame,” she finished for him.

  “I am the one to blame. Like you said. I should have let her die.” And yet, if they killed the Orobus and Hunter had her way, he’d have to keep his word. “But I couldn’t.”

  “After that, we’ve stayed on opposite sides of the continent. Opposite sides of the world, when we were able. But I always knew exactly where she was.” Tyr wasn’t even sure when he finished speaking, only that Celine’s eyes were brimming with tears. He was sure his heart had never hurt quite so much.

  Mir rolled his shoulders. “Let’s go get your girl. Get her on board. If she manages to draw the bastard to the circle, we’ll push him through the door. After that, I don’t give a fuck if she leaves a crater the size of the Grand Canyon behind. Let her finish him off. Maybe he’ll take whatever’s inside Hunter with him when he goes.”

  “And Ava?” Celine reminded them.

  “And Ava too. We’ve got enough of his poison floating around here. It’s time to get rid of him for good. Maybe even take care of Hel and her demons.”

  “Too much to hope for.” Plus, there was still their little deal to contend with. “If I’m going to get her, I’m going alone.”

  “Not a good idea, my man.”

  “Non-negotiable. She won’t trust anyone else.” Tyr almost smiled. “Not that she trusts me, but at least she won’t kill me on sight.” Anything was possible.

  Mir followed him down to the weapons room, helped outfit him with body armor, weapons, and a killer pair of knives. “Where is she?” Tyr asked, not really needing confirmation on his hunch but wanting to make conversation to fill the silence.

  “Last I heard she was just north of Balder’s position. Been there most of the day.”

  Tyr closed his eyes, sending feelers out for her. Yeah, that felt about right. She was tired, bone-dead exhausted, but still managed to be on full alert.

  “She hasn’t moved, which I can’t believe. Balder’s been shifting position every half an hour.”

  Tyr shot him an amused glance. “You don’t know her. Like I told you, she’s the best damn tracker alive. She’ll sit there and wait until the end of time, if that’s what it takes.”

  “The problem is, he’ll be gunning straight for her.” Mir picked up a radio, muttered into it. “Hey shithead, any movement?”

  Balder’s voice sounded tinny and distorted. “Not yet. Some movement to the east, but it could be nothing.”

  Tyr checked his vest, pulled his shirt down over it. Tugged a beanie down over his head. “I’m headed his way. Tell him not to cap my ass by mistake.” Since Balder was still jumpy after being tortured in the Underworld for thousands of years, it was a definite possibility.

  “Tyr’s coming to you. Hunter’s a few hundred feet north of your position.” Mir’s eyes met his over the com. “Probably somewhere high and dry.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Tyr’s on his way. Don’t shoot him by mistake. I’m not wasting my time healing his cranky old ass,” Mir said into the crackling com unit. “FYI, the God of Chaos will be heading straight for your position. Stay sharp.”

  10

  As it turned out, Hunter liked Chicago.

  Not that she’d admit that to anyone. But the way the wind whipped in off the lake, smelling of the water, reminded her of home. Old home, the way she liked to remember Scotland. Alba, as they’d called it back then. These stone pillars were her rocky granite crags, the blue lake her beloved loch. And Chicago was greener than New York, where every inch had been asphalted within an inch of its life. She eased the cramp in her leg, the crick in her back. She was about a hundred yards from Balder, and could practically smell him. “You, my friend, need a bath.”

  She barely felt the cold that bit through her leathers, barely felt anything around her, so engrossed she was in mulling over the developments of the past days. There had been a certain sense of hope when she thought she might discover what she was. A sense that with a name, everything would fall neatly into place, and her life would become a thing of order and, therefore, easily managed.

  “I am you, and you are me.” She frowned. “Fat chance of that. You are you and I am who I’ve always been. We are not, and never will be, the same.”

  She was a war chieftain’s daughter. And nothing, not even this all-powerful creature, would ever take that away from her.

  Tyr crouched about a hundred feet from Hunter’s position. Observing.

  Some might call it stalking, but he preferred the other. Made it seem, well, more respectable. She sat, long legs dangling over the nothingness dropping a thousand feet below her, without so much as a twitch, until he caught the slightest movement of her torso, followed by a backward rolling of her shoulders. Inwardly, he groaned. He’d best get on with this.

  “Not exactly a walk in the park to find you up here.” He went with a casual tone, hoping to not spook her. “And I have better things to do right now than chase you down.”

  “Do you know what your problem is, Tyr?”

  No, but he was pretty sure he was about to find out.

  “You took the long way up. The south elevator shaft is wide open, the cables intact. It’s faster than the east stairwell.” She turned that golden stare on him, and he felt its crackling bite all the way to his very marrow. “And you never know quite how to speak to me, do you? But since you’ve been sitting there behind that wall for over an hour, just spit it out already. You’ve certainly had enough time to figure out what you want to say.”

  True, except the words were still tangled up in his throat. “How long have you known I was here?”

  “An hour. You sounded like a rhino coming up those stairs with your boots.” That shrewd gaze drilled straight through him. “And before you ask, no, I haven’t seen anything. Big flock of birds stirred up about two hours ago. But that could have been anything.”

  “Why did you vote yourself off the island, Hunter?”

  “Because it was best for everyone.”

  “For who? For you? For everyone else? Tell me, who were you trying to protect? We’re all big boys and girls. We’ve seen a lot of shit in these past months. I’m pretty sure we can handle—”

  Her voice was cool when she answered. “You know full well that you can’t handle what’s inside of me, Tyr. This god… He played a mind trick on me, in that vision with Celine. And he almost fooled me. Except for a vague feeling of…wrongness about the whole scene, I almost bought it.”

  Her voice broke, then rose. “What do you think would have happened if I’d let go? What would have happened to your precious Tower? Your friends? Let’s not forget what I can do, nor what I have done.” Hunter leaned her head back. “I’m so tired. I can’t do this anymore. Life. A thousand years is too damn long. Let me help you finish this, and then you can let me rest.” He realized her eyes were squeezed tight. “I just want to rest.”

  He’d never really thought about what her life was like.

  For him, immortality had been a cakewalk. At first. Sure, there’d been a rough eon or two here and there, but he’d had his brothers, and trips to Asgard, and wars with the Titans and so forth to break things up. He’d never considered what a mortal life would be like, stretched out over a millennium. “Has it really been so bad?”

  She shot him a sidew
ays look. “I’ve been alone, Tyr.” Her voice had this fragile edge he hadn’t heard since those months in the mountains, when it was just the two of them. His feet were rooted to the floor as she continued. “At first, I was afraid of being around anyone else. Afraid of myself, of what I might do to others by mistake. Then, it became habit. I missed people at first, so much. I thought about my father, my clan. Then I thought about them less and less. Then came the day I knew…”

  Tyr smelled her tears as he approached, crouched down so they almost touched. Over everything else, the fact she’d remained isolated for so long tore his heart to shreds. “I knew whatever I’d been that day we met on the battlefield, I was no more. I’d lost my humanity. And I’d never get it back. After that, it was easy to be alone.”

  “Look, Hunter. Come back.” No, not quite right.

  “Come back with me. Stay…”

  Her head swiveled around, golden eyes locked on tight.

  “…with me. This time, I want you there. I need to know you’re safe. Fuck what’s inside of you. I trust you to keep it locked down tight. Just”—he indicated the network of blown out windows and twisted beams around them—“let me take you somewhere that’s not here.”

  “You want me somewhere safe?” A strange little smile played on the corners of her mouth. “You want me to stay with you?”

  Fuck yes. “Hunter…” Her name was a plea and a thousand things wrapped up in that one little word, and he would have poured out his heart to her in that moment, both of them dangling precariously over this yawning emptiness. Had the flock of starlings not chosen that particular moment to overrun the entire blown-out building.

  The birds swarmed through the broken windows, weaving through beams and gutted walls, streaming past in a blur, filling the space with the dry-brush rattle of wings, forcing Tyr to grasp the nearest beam for support. Their passage gave him the strangest sensation of falling.

  And when they were gone, so was Hunter.

  Casting about, he sensed her several stories below and descending fast. Running for the elevator shaft and cursing missed opportunities, he leapt, grasped the still shaking cable, and fell like a bullet, the cable heating up against his palm. “Damn it. I will have my say,” he muttered as his feet hit the bottom of the pit with a boom.

  He honed onto her location immediately. She was already outside. “What the hell, Hunter?” He followed, as if she were a magnet and he steel. Rubber banded together, where she went, he followed. Back and forth, forever and ever.

  He turned onto East 100th and paused. The damn trees lining the street were full to overflowing with the flock of birds, the street full of their shrieking calls, the sound deafening. Hunter was just ahead, and she surveyed the trees as well, the cawing an ear-splitting din around them.

  “Stop, will you?” he yelled as she slowed. Just for a minute, woman. He thought crossly. If only to make his case. Maybe getting her into bed was too far a reach for one day’s work, but if he could get her home, that would be enough.

  As their eyes met, and he felt that now-familiar kick in the gut he felt at the sight of her, a look of horror crossed her face. That foreign expression drew out the moment, even as a feeling of utter dread crawled up his spine. A tingling blackness crept over him, as if the dark hands of death gripped his shoulders, ready to pull him down underground. In the time it took for Hunter to open her mouth and scream a warning, Tyr’s feet were swept from underneath him, the city around him splintered apart, and darkness stretched out into infinity.

  11

  Hunter stood in the now-silent street. It was empty. The birds, if they had even been birds, were gone. She didn’t know how long it had been since Tyr vanished right before her eyes, in a swirl of dark malevolence she could still feel as if it were a poison eating away at her insides, but panic bloomed at his absence.

  I took him away. To show you what you had to lose.

  The words echoed around her head, the Orobus’s taunting tone both graveyard cold and birthday happy. A cat with a new toy. Hunter shuddered. She’d hoped for a level playing field this time around. She’d counted on gaining some advantage, since they had prior warning of his approach. She, like Tyr, had been wrong on both counts. “All right, you bastard. Where are you? What do you want from me?”

  Come to the circle and meet. Face to pretty face. We trade.

  She had no idea where this circle was, only that it was located close to the Tower. She’d find it though, and then? This thing would be sorry. “I’ll be there. Give me an hour.”

  Half as much. I know how fast you are.

  Hunter cast about the city for Tyr and found nothing. But the creature was right about one thing. She was fast. Tightening her pack, she began to race along the lake, heading straight into downtown.

  Twenty minutes later and the dolmens loomed huge overhead.

  Her family’s circle had been more modest, a few strategically placed standing stones with a raised, stone altar in the center. The very altar she’d snapped her neck against, in fact, the night Tyr had brought her back to life. Thankfully, there was no altar in sight, so her neck seemed safe enough at the moment. Switching position, she evaluated the largest structure. It towered over the rest, appearing more like a hut than a doorway, with no apparent openings for anything to gain access. But one thing was for sure, the whole cursed place felt wrong.

  Not that the power inside of her cared.

  The moment she’d looked in this direction, the elemental darkness within her began to claw. To twist. To fight its way out of her. As if it knew exactly where she was headed. Which meant she was nearly exhausted with the effort to contain it. Which had been the Orobus’s plan all along, she realized.

  Why fight the enemy when you could have them fight themselves?

  She had to give the creature props. This was a good tactic and one she’d employed herself, many times before.

  Plus, she’d been twisted into knots since the second Tyr disappeared. Which was ridiculous. Tyr was a big boy. A warrior. The God of War, for heaven’s sake. Why she was wasting her time worrying about him was beyond her. The man could take care of himself.

  Scanning the blind spots, she wondered aloud, “Where are you?”

  She’d picked the high ground for this approach, skirting huge chunks of white rubble. On the other side of the circle, the water stretched out, evenly blue under a brilliant sky. Senses on alert, she expected at least a faint tingling from the creature’s proximity, but felt…nothing. If she hadn’t known better, she would have sworn she was the only living thing here, but she wasn’t. She couldn’t be. This was where he had wanted her.

  Which meant the Orobus was here too.

  A quick scan turned up no sign of Tyr, along with a quick flash of anger, or possibly sheer aggravation. How had the man managed to get himself snatched off the street in broad daylight? They weren’t complete amateurs, after all. She even flirted with the possibility that he’d done it on purpose, for the sheer sake of irritating her.

  The dolmens cast long shadows across the pit, curving upward, toward the edges, toward her position. Noting the location of those shadows and realizing her advantage, Hunter settled her back against a chunk of rubble. “Should have done your homework. Now let’s see how you fare against me.”

  Hunter turned into shadow herself, flitting from stone to stone, working her way down, never letting so much as a sliver of sun touch her. This trick of hers had cost many a man his life, becoming the darkness. Even though she doubted her illusions would work on this creature, it might get her close.

  Close enough to free Tyr. Or to kill the creature.

  With a burst of speed, she shot down the incline with a shower of gravel, surprised to reach the bottom unscathed. Bracing her hand against the nearest stone, it stirred beneath her palm, as if it were awakening. Or felt the faintest recognition of kinship.

  This place was filled with primeval power. The kind from which she’d been reborn.

  And it seemed
the stones knew it as inside the formation a faint light bloomed, as if a portal were opening, a hazy, lazily spinning doorway growing brighter as the city behind her darkened.

  There was a lingering, evil silence within these stones, a corruption to them, as if the blood of the innocents soaked them. Lives had been stolen inside this circle. And would be again.

  The sun began to set, slanting the long shadows of the city across the ground at her feet, their shadows intermingling with the shadows cast by the dolmens, until a grid formed, and Hunter realized she stood at the center of a shadowy net. The back of her neck prickling, Hunter spun, finding nothing but dying sunlight and dust hanging like spendthrift in the air. “Where are you?”

  Gotcha.

  The voice crept out of the shadows. Along with a vague, shifting shape that might have been the creature and was certainly the most malevolent thing she’d ever sensed. In answer, the power trapped inside her clawed for escape.

  “Oh I don’t know about that.” Hunter’s words held the lazy, confident cadence that comes when you are certain you have the upper hand.

  She had to admit, this was the perfect opportunity. Her and the creature, alone together in the bowl of darkness, her power practically begging to be unleashed. All she had to do was turn herself loose and smoke his ass. Deed done. And once she located Tyr afterwards, he would kill her. As promised. If there was one thing she could count on, it was for Tyr to keep his word.

  “It looks like a perfect evening to me.” Even with Grim seeping out of the darkness like a swarm of black spiders, she was enjoying a certain amount of brashness in her current situation. “You burned my city.” Rage pushed her a step forward. “You tore down my home.” Arrogance, yet another. “And then, you bastard, you made a huge mistake.”

  I never make mistakes, girl. I make moves, and I always win.

  She should have heard the laughter that outlined his every word. Should have but was too wrapped up in her own hubris to notice. In a massive reversal of fortune, the kind that leaves you speechless, the long shadows morphed into a physical, tangible web of magic, closing in around her and scooping her up with the Grim, like so many mackerel in a net. The sky disappeared as she fought against the weight of the monsters, their slick, writhing bodies as they were all crushed together, tighter and tighter.