The funny thing was, Gabriella had done this before. War wasn’t anything new to her. Wars fought by men with everything to gain and nothing to lose but blood. Somehow, she always ended up on the side that was outgunned, and because of that, she knew she was on her way to a lost cause. At least she was riding shotgun.
“Did they set the charges?” Balder’s voice sounded grim.
“Yes, of course they did.” Ava’s voice carried a trace of wry humor. “The detonator’s right next to you on the seat.” Gabriella glanced down at the black, innocuous box laying between them. “Tyr put it there and told me not to touch it. Can you believe his nerve?” She rolled her eyes.
Odin coughed, the dry, raspy, cough of the dying before speaking from the back. “Good. Don’t touch it. I’d hate to have to destroy this building, just so it doesn’t fall into Domenic’s hands.”
Gabriella stilled at the name. She hadn’t heard that name in years. Not since she’d cut ties with her family. She was in the middle of asking, “Wait…Domenic...?” When revving engines drowned out her words.
Balder pulled out an enormous gun and set it on the seat between them. “Hold on. The second these doors go up, I’m hitting it. The outside cameras look clear, but I can’t promise…”
She grasped the door handle for dear life. No promises. That’s the same thing her parents always told her. No promises. No guarantees.
The door went up. Slow and steady it rose—the clear, cold light of a Chicago winter morning shining brilliantly bright beyond the maw.
And gathered in the street beyond, stood an army. Black and faintly pulsing, as if evil gave it a heartbeat. Stepping out from the horde, David Domenic looked exactly as she remembered, in a suit made from the finest wool, his shirt crisp and white against his tan skin. As Gabriella doubled over and vomited, fairly certain she was dying, she thought that evil had never, ever looked so good.
12
“Everyone stays here,” Ava commanded, leaning over Gabriella, the sour smell wafting into her face.
“Don’t you dare get out,” she then whispered in Balder’s ear, before furiously adding, “And keep Odin inside this vehicle. You do not let him out, no matter what happens. Do you understand me?”
Balder’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, his other hand trying to soothe Gabriella as she heaved and writhed next to him. “What exactly do you think you’re going to accomplish, Ava?” he demanded. “There has got to be a thousand of them out there.”
At the same time Ava twisted away from Odin’s reaching hands and shimmied through door, Odin yelled, “Do not let her out of this car…do not let her…” Then she cut him off by slamming the door in his face. Ava glanced back once, only to confirm the three of them were still locked behind bulletproof steel and glass, before she strode straight through the snow toward Domenic.
“Well, well, well. David Domenic. Nice suit.” Ava’s mouth quirked.
He inclined his head. “Thank you. It’s Tom Ford. Virgin wool.”
She waved a hand, dismissing him. “Not that suit, although it’s very nice, as well. I meant the skin you’re wearing. David Domenic looks very good on you. Tan. Elegant. Slightly evil. Great choice on the mortal flesh.”
The Orobus must have been practicing as it narrowed its eyes on her in a good imitation of human distrust. “Who are you?”
“You know precisely who I am. We’ve met before, actually.” Inside, a sort of unfurling was happening, as if, finally, this thing inside of her had found something it recognized.
Ava felt everyone behind her watching. Five vehicles, filled with everyone she cared about. Her sister. Her friends. A silver-haired god she couldn’t quite describe her feelings for. In response, she pushed the thing inside of her down for a moment longer. Just long enough for her to buy them all a bit more time. An opening—long enough—to get those vehicles out of the garage.
Ava scanned the wall of black, oily creatures at Domenic’s back. “Where’s your sidekick? Or couldn’t she be bothered to come down here today? I guess ice is a bit hard on those Louboutin’s.”
“Not feeling up to the task today, I’m afraid.”
“Too bad.” Ava filed Hel’s absence away for future reference. “I haven’t seen her in a while. There was a time, you know, when we were well acquainted. But I suppose you already know that.”
The thing did a whole-body twitch, then cocked its head at her, questioning. “What are you?” he asked again quizzically, Domenic’s flesh rippling with the movement.
Just that quick, Ava relished the shift in power between them. The thing inside of her sensed it, too, bucking against her hold. Tamping it down hard, she took a deep, shuddering breath. Just a moment longer. The trick would be in the timing.
Pushing her hands deep into her pockets, Ava’s hand closed around the item that would make the difference. The thing she’d grabbed on her way out the door. Behind her, the Hummer idled in the opening, a piece of her heart strapped into the back.
Her smile dripped with ice. “What do you say I give you a demonstration? Like the man said, seeing is believing.”
She’d never actually let her power go before. Not willingly, not of her own accord. She knew there was a chance—slim, really—that once she did, she’d not come back from this. That she’d be no better than this monster standing before her, this demon cloaked in the flesh and blood of another.
Which is why she closed her hand on the device in her pocket and depressed the button first.
And dropped her guard second.
13
Overhead, Balder heard them. The charges deploying, one by one. Glancing down, he realized the device was gone, at the same time Odin gripped his shoulder, fingers digging in hard. “Get us out of this garage. We’ll be buried by tons of sandstone if you don’t.”
Taking his hand off Gabriella, Balder gripped the wheel with both hands.
Boot to the floor, Balder rocketed them out of the opening and straight toward Domenic and Ava, the latter turning to watch them pass as Balder cut the wheel with the intention of giving her an opportunity to jump inside the vehicle. One chance for escape.
Black was swirling in her eyes. No, scratch that, Balder thought, taking her in as they rocketed by. Black was swirling from her, as if she was the source of it. “It’s too late for Ava now, my brother,” Odin muttered. “Drive. Just drive.”
Behind them, the building groaned. The charges, like staccato heartbeats, thudded against his chest, a countdown of sorts. The rest of the vehicles followed them in a tight line. Cutting the wheel, Balder clipped a couple Grim, then rocketed up Michigan, praying they’d gain enough distance that the building wouldn’t crush them on its way down. Behind them, he saw Tyr right on his ass while smoke and flame billowed from the base of the Tower.
“Oh, God.” Gabriella moaned, writhing on the seat beside him. “Oh, God. It hurts, Balder, this hurts so bad.” She was curled into a heaving, tightly wound ball of misery.
“You have to get her out of here, Balder. Get her away from them or this will kill her.” Odin warned, but Balder was already moving. The Hummer skittered across the ice before the tires grabbed, then shot like a bullet down Michigan, slamming them back into their seats. The shuddering, slow motion fall of the Tower behind them was like something out of a dream.
Coupled with a black, all-encompassing fog that was slowly chasing them, Balder figured he couldn’t get them out of there fast enough.
Still, he couldn’t stop himself from one last glance in the rearview.
A small, wraithlike figure stood in the midst of the unfolding destruction. Impossibly small against the fiery background, snakes of blackness sprouted from Ava’s body, weaving through the smoke, reaching out toward Domenic. The entire host shrank back away from them, even as Domenic took a step toward Ava.
And Balder didn’t miss the look on his face.
It was pure desire.
Balder didn’t look back again.
It was blocks b
efore Gabriella could breathe again. Miles before she could raise her head. The city had disappeared before the smothering, sick horror finally loosened its grip on her body. Through it all, Balder’s hand never left her back, stroking rhythmically in soothing circles over and over again until she felt like maybe she wouldn’t die after all. Then he gave her a firm squeeze and she sat up.
“That’s who you’re fighting?” Her voice was shaking as she pushed, “David Domenic? That’s who this war is against?”
From behind her, Odin sounded shaky. “That wasn’t Domenic, it was the Orobus. A monster cloaked in a mortal body. Although I’m surprised flesh and blood can contain him.”
“I don’t even understand what you’re talking about right now. I know that man…or knew him, at least. My father worked for the Domenics…worked for his family, a long time ago.” Into the silence she kept interjecting a string of babbling nonsense. “The Domenics are a Chicago crime family. They’re dangerous, sure, but what’s happening here… One crime family couldn’t possibly cause all of this…not this kind of destruction… This is something else entirely…plus the monsters… I’ve seen the monsters… What the hell is happening here?”
But all Balder did was speed up, the roar of the engine forcing her to speak even louder.
“That guy in the street, he’s the son, and there’s a sister, too, but my father… He worked for them for years… Actually, that’s how I got stuck in the city, I came back to see if my parents were still alive, but then things went wrong.” Remembering, she fizzled out and slumped back into the leather seat. “They went really, really wrong.”
Balder’s voice was gentle as he explained, “That was David Domenic’s body you saw. But as Odin pointed out, the Orobus took control of him, almost two months ago.” Balder glanced in the rearview, before looking back at the road. “Odin, you’ve been gone for months, so somehow, the creature must have sensed your return. It’s the only explanation for why he appeared today.”
Odin stared out the window, his face set as stone. “Which is why I stayed away in the first place. I would have stayed gone, but Ava forced me to come home. I never would have… Except I had to bring her home.”
Balder shook his head, “Well, it’s done. No sense in replaying it.” He looked over to her, taking in her shakiness before adding, “It will pass, I’ve seen this reaction before. The other mortals, they became as sick as you, Gabriella. Those who were closest, said they felt like they were dying.” He offered a small smile. “If that makes you feel any better.”
It didn’t.
“Why do you keep calling me mortal?” she asked curiously. “As if you aren’t?” Again, Balder caught Odin’s gaze in the mirror, and for a few miles, they both avoided her completely.
“I thought I was going to die,” she finally admitted. “I felt like I was being torn apart inside. You couldn’t feel it?”
“I felt…something,” Balder said, his lips tight, while Odin remained silent. “But not like you did. We have an hour’s drive, then we’ll regroup. Once we do, we have to decide how to proceed.”
“Oak Park?” Odin finally said, his voice somber.
“That’s the plan.”
“I can’t face the rest of them, Balder.”
“You’ll have to. You won’t have a choice. They’ll want answers—as do I.”
Balder had cut her out of the conversation completely.
Answers? Gabriella wondered. Well, she wanted some answers too. Later, when they got to Oak Park, she’d corner him and make him explain everything. Either that, or she would go her own way.
When they stopped, the house was imposing. Staring up at it, Gabriella didn’t know which was worse, the huge house or the fact she was entering unknown territory. Unbuckling herself, she paused and gave herself a minute to sort through her warring emotions. She was afraid, she decided, afraid of what lay before her. Afraid she didn’t have any other options right now.
“This won’t be easy for either of us,” Odin said from the back, and when she turned, his face was bone-white.
Everyone had unloaded by the time she ducked out of the truck, her feet sinking into ten inches of snow. A tiny creature elbowed her way through the crowd, the lupine, black-haired man in tow, his bright blue eyes missing nothing. Gabriella evaluated the girl as she closed the distance between them. Seven months along, just shy of eight. Healthy, if you judged by the flush in her cheeks, but with that small of a frame… Gabriella’s eyes drifted up to the man who flanked her. He was simply huge.
Surprisingly strong arms went around her. “I’m Celine. Welcome. I’m sure Balder, the big oaf, isn’t going to introduce you.” She stepped back. “We were busy packing, so I never got a chance to meet you today.” She sniffed delicately. “I see you had the same reaction to the Orobus the rest of us did.”
Gabriella realized, a bit late, that she probably smelled like vomit. The huge guy stepped alongside, clasping Balder’s hand.
“If we’d have cut that any closer… Well, I’m just glad it wasn’t any closer,” he murmured, pulling the elfin blonde against him. “Was that Ava? I can’t believe, after all these months… Well, we should talk inside, it’s too cold out here for the women.”
Gabriella bristled but didn’t disagree. Her feet were soaking, and in truth, she was shivering. “I should help him out of the truck,” she explained, swinging the back door open and leaning in. She ducked her head inside. “You’re up.”
“I can’t do this.” Odin raised his empty eyes to hers. “I can’t face them, not like this.”
“Yes, you can,” she insisted, her voice softening at the look on his face. “These are your people, Odin. They’ll understand.”
Yet he remained immovable.
“Here. Lean on me. Put your hand on my shoulder and let me guide you. I won’t leave you.” He looked miserable, and she really felt for the guy. “I know I’m not Ava—I know she’s not here right now. But let’s just get through these next few minutes until you’re inside the house. It’s a real beauty.”
“I know,” he muttered. “I chose it.”
Finally, he straightened, one hand clamped firmly for support, and she felt him tower behind her. “All right, Doctor, lead the way. I trust you’ll get me there in one piece.”
“Hang on and don’t let go,” she murmured, hearing all conversation cease as they stepped away from the vehicle, and the sea of slack faces swung in their direction. Shock rippled through them as they looked at Odin, shock and something even worse, despair. Balder stepped to her side, until they stood shoulder to shoulder, and brushed his fingertips against her free hand. The touch was featherlight and fleeting. But reassuring.
She brushed her fingers back against Balder’s, her mind spinning with everything she’d just seen and heard. David Domenic had an army of monsters. David Domenic was no longer human. Except—somehow, he was. Mortal, as Odin said.
She knew things about Domenic, since her life had been spent among the wicked men of this world. She’d learned their secrets. She’d learned their ways. And it was much harder, she mused, to save a life than it was to take one. And like Odin pointed out, David Domenic was flesh and blood.
As if he knew precisely where her thoughts led her, Odin leaned closer until his whisper was little more than a warm breath against her ear.
“And now you understand why you’re here, Gabriella.”
14
“I can’t sleep with you, Balder.”
Looking between the impossibly small bed and the impossibly handsome man standing beside it, Gabriella doubted her choices could have come down to anything worse.
“It’s not like we have a choice. And it’s smarter for us all to stick together and sleep under one roof. Easier to keep us all safe. Protected. There are other houses…” He indicated the whole of the small neighborhood surrounding them. “But none of them have heat or food. It would be better if you stayed here, Gabbie.”
And there is was. The real problem.
>
It wasn’t the bed or his big, beautiful body. Nor his brown eyes that were the exact color of good whiskey. Nor the confident, quiet way he had about him. No, it was her and the way she felt every single time he said Gabbie. Or looked at her. Or for fuck’s sake, touched her.
Like his tongue was licking right up the middle of her. Every. Single. Time.
Hence. “I still can’t sleep with you.”
Especially in this huge house, which had turned into a giant Noah’s Ark. Everybody pairing off, two by two, like propagating the universe suddenly had taken priority. Which brought her all the way around to the problem at hand.
“Let’s not discuss this anymore.” She sighed. “I’ve got to examine Celine. Check out the baby. Follow up with Odin. And reevaluate the wound on your leg. Not necessarily in that order.”
“I’ll help you with Odin.”
“I’d like that.”
She found Celine sitting on a couch, head thrown back in ecstasy, feet in her man’s lap as he rubbed them. “Hi Celine, I’m Gabriella Mendoza. I really didn’t get a chance to properly introduce myself to you earlier.”
Celine straightened, taking in the demeanor, the stethoscope. “You’re a doctor?”
“Yup, and I’ve delivered six babies. All healthy.” Gabriella held her eyes steadily. “Do you happen to know how many weeks for sure?” She made no move to approach, held in place as much by her own instincts as much as those ominous blue eyes.
“Fenrir, stop it, she’s a doctor. We’ve been so afraid…” Her voice turned shy. “We’re thinking between thirty-one or thirty-two weeks. Around the middle of April, right, Fen?” She winced as she shifted position. “Close, though. I’m getting close.”
Beside her, Balder cleared his throat. “Fen. Let me give you a status report of where we’re at. It’s not encouraging, and I’d rather do this quietly.”
Glancing between him and Gabriella, Fenrir curled his lip, a hint of fang showing. “Double-teaming me, are you? So be it.” He leaned down and kissed the top of Celine’s head. “I’ll be right next door, love. Call if you need me.” He gripped Gabriella’s arm tightly on the way out, his eyes desperate. “This woman means everything to me, do you understand?”
The Tower Page 5