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The Tower

Page 11

by L. A. McGinnis


  She seethed until he came back. Seethed because she was caught. Well and truly. Caught by her feelings for him. Caught by the lies she’d told him. Studying her hands—these hands that had killed and maimed and healed—she wondered what he would make of her, if he knew the truth.

  Odin knew. Part of her thought Hel might know. Had seen something flicker, deep in those obsidian eyes, every time the goddess looked at her. As if they saw every little dirty secret she had. And that was one thing. One piece of shit murderer to another. But Balder? He was an entirely different creature all together.

  It mattered, what he thought of her. So, for him, she wanted to be her new, improved self. Her best self. Because if he knew who she really was? He’d never, ever understand.

  She raged when he offered her the glass but took it meekly.

  “Here, Gabbie, drink this. It’ll help you feel better.”

  She threw it back in one, long, burning swallow. Scotch, by the taste of it. Not good scotch, by the lingering burn of it. But he was right, as always. It did help.

  At least, it numbed her pain. “Another one, please.”

  “Are you sure Gabbie? It’s pretty strong.”

  She waved the glass in the air. “Fill it up. I need more, bartender. Keep ’em coming.” She kept the glass steady as he filled it to the brim. Then drank the whole damn thing.

  She could practically see herself reflected in his eyes. Young, she’d appear so young. And innocent, sure. Idealistic. Almost a college student, maybe, with straight black hair, big brown eyes, a strong jaw. Not exactly beautiful. Determined. That’s how her mother had always described her. Determined.

  She giggled. She always figured it was just a euphemism for “plain.” Not exactly the kind of woman who killed for a living. Which, of course, was what made her so good at what she did.

  Booze made her woozy and prone to bad decisions. Which was why she avoided it, as a rule. “Balder.” She blinked up at him. “Look, I know I’ve been acting kind of weird. But this distance between you and me? It’s for the best. Trust me. I’m not someone you want to get too close to.”

  “I think you’re a little drunk, Gabbie.” His smile was gentle. “And after a nightmare, it probably wasn’t such a good idea to throw back quite so much liquor, especially when you aren’t used to it.”

  She raised her eyebrows. Okay, enough with the mansplaining. “Just out of practice, is all.” She waved a hand in the air, surprised it flopped around somewhat alarmingly. “Besides, used to have that dream all the time. A bit out of practice with that too.” She really needed to get to the point here. Maybe she really was out of practice.

  “You”—she clarified, sticking her finger into his face, as if there was someone else in the room with them—“do not want to get all tangled up with me.” She thumbed in her own direction and might have missed the mark. “I am, shall we say, from the wrong side of the tracks. Not exactly the kind of girl you’d take home to mother.” She cocked her head at him, something suddenly occurring to her. “Who is your mother, anyway?” When he opened his mouth to answer, she waved away his answer. “Never mind. You wouldn’t take me home to her. No matter who she was.”

  Wow, look at that room spin.

  “Gabbie, honey, let’s get you back into bed.” Balder’s arms went around her shoulders and the backs of her legs. It had been a really long time since she’d been picked up by anyone. And it felt lovely. Brought tears to her eyes. Or maybe that was just the booze. “Oh, Balder. Why’re you being so nice to me?”

  “Because I’m afraid I’m a bit in love with you, Gabriella. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

  She mumbled her next words as she turned into the pillow and the world spun away, “Already tol’ you, big guy. Not an option.”

  25

  David Domenic shook the snow off his coat.

  Two weeks.

  He’d been gone for two weeks, and the whole world had gone to shit.

  Plus, he’d lost his favorite toy.

  Not a good start for conquering the world. Not a good start for the day, now that he thought about it. When he’d been nothing but a swirling, unfocused consciousness, marooned out there in the nothingness for all that limitless time, he’d planned. He’d planned everything, down to destroying the last blade of grass. But now?

  It went to shit every time.

  How could that be? How could the mortal, physical world be so limiting to his dreams, when the metaphysical one had no limits at all?

  He hated this physical world, with all its fucking checks and balances. Give him the freedom of the metaphysical any day, then he’d really make things happen. Dreams made reality—that’s how the world was built in a day. Or seven, depending on your beliefs.

  The fresh scent of pure fear tinged the air. Ah, his second in command had arrived. “Come in, Kemp.” He supposed the man was half competent. Half being the operative word. “Had some losses while I was away.”

  “Yes sir. We did. Those bastards struck when we had most of our men protecting the assets.”

  “They didn’t get to those at all?”

  “My guess is, they don’t even know they exist.”

  That was his guess too, and his guesses were usually right. “Double the security on those. And on the stones.”

  “Manpower is short, sir.” That was what he liked about Kemp, the man kept his answers short and to the point. Not particularly helpful, but still.

  Of course manpower was short, he’d lost his gatekeeper.

  “I’ll find another supply source.” Bring in new blood, so to speak. It wouldn’t be too hard, really. “You may not find them as cooperative as this last batch, however. Less…obedient.”

  “I’ll work with whatever you give me, sir.”

  “Good man.” He paused. “And Kemp?”

  “Yes sir?”

  “You fucking fail me one more time, I’ll add you to my body count and turn you into one of those walking dead you like to joke about. And I’ll make sure to keep you alive a good, long time, while your body rots around you, and you watch. Understood?”

  “Clearly, sir.”

  Once the man left, taking his stench of fear with him, Domenic pondered the loss of Hel. They’d rescued her, no doubt Even though the cameras had been switched off, and all footage erased, the clever bastards, he knew who had her. Their stronghold gone, driven out of the city, and still they came after him. Sure, they’d erased more than half of his weapons caches, over half of his men. But they didn’t know everything, which meant they didn’t know anything, really.

  Hel was as good as gone, anyway, with her walking dead and Grim almost tapped out. Time to move onto another plan. The new one, this Ava, had actually sparked the idea, taking him on a tour of the remaining realms. So many worlds. So many possibilities.

  So many other beings to be turned into weapons.

  So many other hunters.

  His mouth twisted into something that might be called a smile. If someone was foolish enough to believe he was capable of one.

  It was time to pour out onto this world all the vile things he’d collected and see if Earth would contain them. Or if it would spit them back out.

  “Kemp,” he yelled down the hallway. “Get me some men, some trucks, and some guns. We’re going on a safari.” For the first time in weeks, he felt his blood pressure rise. His heart rate increased. Excitement, the humans would call it.

  An hour later, he was sure of what he was feeling. Anticipation.

  The stones, thank the gods, still stood. That had been a moment of weakness, to try to destroy them, to keep them from the immortals’ grasp. He needed them, these were his doorways, his portals, his to use at his whim. And he needed them now.

  “Are we going in there?” One of Kemp’s men—new, apparently—as he hadn’t quite grasped the “be seen and not heard” adage that they all operated by, was immediately told to shut it.

  Feeling charitable, David answered, “Yes, we are. All of u
s. We’re going hunting, boys, and I expect it to be a fruitful expedition.”

  Lions and tigers and bears, oh my.

  Jotunheim was the womb of so many of his experiments over the eons, and some of his most successful. Ulfr, similar to what the humans would call wolves, but five times the size, and with a mouth that opened twice as wide, were one of his earliest forays into hunter-predators. Morfoer were another, a sort of feline-like animal with snakelike abilities. And then there were the Hyrde for which there was no earthly comparison.

  They brought back an even twenty of each. Well twenty-one of the Hyrde, but one had an unfortunate accident with one of the portals, involving two men who would never quite be the same again. The moment they breached the doorway to Earth, the creatures scented fresh blood and began their hunt, David wishing them well, the men happy to have them out of their sight.

  One problem down, one to go.

  Hel may have closed off his supply line to the dead, but the Dark Elves littered the wastes of Svartlheim by the millions. With a flick of his wrist, David opened up the portal. It glowed, spun, and then finally turned transparent and opened. On the other side, like a storm cloud, darkness shifted and moved. Drew closer.

  “What’s that?” The same man. Clearly, not a learner.

  “You’ll see.” David waited. The darkness solidified, formed, grew into shapes, hulking shapes that moved to and through the opening until they began to stream through the light, blocking it out, staining the stones around them, bleeding into the white snow.

  “These are…” A moist crunch as the talkative one was devoured by the nearest creature. The rest of them took a healthy step back until they were safely behind him. “These are Dark Elves,” he explained. “They devour everything in their paths. Eating and consuming all. Living, that is. Organic material is their favorite, although inorganic will do when they run out of the other.”

  A world wiped clean. That was what he’d give them. A world so perfect it would be just like the chaos that had born him. But capable of sustaining life. His life, at least.

  He turned and made for the SUV’s. “Leave the portal open for a few hours. That should allow enough of the creatures’ entry to keep the gods busy. Recompense for what they stole from me. And clean this fucking city up, it reeks.”

  26

  Gabriella woke with a blinding headache.

  “Here. Drink this.” A glass was shoved into her hand. “And take these.” Two small, hard objects were shoved into her other hand. She threw them into her mouth, took a sip, and swallowed. Managed to open one sullen eye to glare at her six-a.m. rescuer. Even if he wasn’t who she hoped he was.

  “You look like total shit.”

  “Yeah, how would you know? You’re still blind.”

  “That I am. Balder explained you had a rough night. I thought I’d come check on you.” His opaque eyes refracted the light.

  “Up for a Nobel Peace Prize or what?” she grumbled. “Seriously, what’s with this random act of kindness? Because I know there has to be something in it for you.”

  “Celine will have the baby today.” Odin paused, as if every word was hard. “It is going to be a difficult birth.”

  “Shit.”

  “Exactly. Which is why you chose a very bad night to imbibe. As we both know, it was for the wrong reasons, and you didn’t accomplish what you set out to, so it was a complete loss all the way around. Bad planning, Gabriella, very bad planning.”

  Her brain scrambling, Gabriella went over all the ins and outs, mostly the outs, of what could possibly happen today. “What did you tell Fen?”

  “Absolutely nothing. As luck would have it, you are the only one who knows my sight is back. So, keep your big mouth shut.”

  “But…”

  “No buts. You will keep quiet. There is nothing good in any of our futures, Gabriella. Nothing, do you hear me? Which means there is no reason to tell them anything. Especially not today. Now I need you to get up and dressed, and your head on straight, and do the best for Celine that you can do.”

  “What’s going to happen, Odin?” Fear twisted her gut, coiling it tighter and tighter until she felt she would implode.

  “Nothing that you cannot handle, Gabriella. Remember that, will you? Nothing that you cannot handle.” Somehow, that did not make her feel better.

  Dressing in front of a blind man didn’t make it any more comfortable, especially with the mocking smile that tugged at his lips. “I can’t see a thing,” he assured her, though she wondered.

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re still…like right there.” She yanked the sweater down over her head and shimmied into her jeans. “Where’s Balder, anyway?”

  “I sent him out for more supplies. There’s an abandoned infirmary at the college up the road. They’ll have most of what we need. Vali went into the city for the rest.”

  Oh god, oh god, oh god….

  “And Celine?” Gabriella didn’t dare wonder how Celine was doing.

  “Sleeping like a baby, at the moment, and will be for another hour. Pull it together, Gabriella. You’ll have good light today. You have an hour to fix the dining room up into an emergency surgery.” His voice was hard. “Mir already has a head start on that, so get a cup of coffee and something in your stomach, you’ll need it.”

  Oh god, oh god, oh god…

  Strong hands gripped her arms and shook her, hard. When she raised her eyes to his blind, white ones, she had a feeling he saw every glaring fear in hers. “Remember the scales, Gabbie. Remember why you do this and for whom. Remember that for every life you took, you owe the gods another. Remember, damn you, who the fuck you are, and exactly what you are capable of. And do not let that girl or her child die on that table today.”

  There was always a moment—right before a job—right before she ended someone’s life, when her doubts slipped away. When she knew she would succeed. That’s where she went to now. A steadying breath. A mastering of her fears, her flaws, her very being. And when she pulled herself out of Odin’s grasp, she was ready.

  “How many sheets do we have left? I counted seven, but I know I used at least two when we worked on Hel.” She was already halfway through her plan when she strode into the room and watched Mir maneuver the table into the center of the room.

  “Enough, I think. But don’t worry, Balder’ll bring back a stack. I told him to grab as many as he could.” His eyes drifted up and down, evaluating her. Apparently, she passed muster because he continued, “I put all your supplies out over there, on the side table. Suturing supplies to the back, figure those’ll come later. Gauze and shit, well, I put that in the back too. Cuz, no telling what’ll happen, right?”

  The big guy looked a little out of his element. “First time?” She sipped her coffee slowly, giving herself a moment to adjust. “I would imagine you’re used to gunshot wounds, broken bones, contusions, that sort of thing.”

  “You could say that.”

  “This is going to be a haul today, Mir. Grueling and hard on Celine. We don’t have the right supplies for an epidural. I’ve got a few things to take the edge off for her, safe enough for a human, but nothing that I would consider safe for the baby, so…”

  “So only if it’s an emergency?”

  “Exactly.” Making a decision, she walked over and shut the door. Laid it all out. “Chances are, we’ll have to do a C-section. I’ve never done one before. Seen it performed once. Helped. But never made the incisions myself. Not an ideal situation, but I don’t have a better solution. She’s awfully tiny, the baby’s really big, eleven pounds, at least. I’m going to let her labor for five hours, six at most, then I’ll make the call. You’ll have to back me up.”

  “You mean as far as Fen goes?”

  “Yes, as far as Fen goes. He’s going to go ballistic. And this will be painful, even though I’ll keep her as comfortable as possible, I can’t put her out completely.” She gripped her coffee tighter. “And he doesn’t trust me.”

  “Maybe we can�
��”

  “I don’t want to allow labor to progress until it’s an emergency. Until she’s bleeding. The baby’s in distress. She goes into shock. The whole thing goes to shit. Because even without all of that going on, this will be difficult.” Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. To cooperate.

  “I’ve got you, Gabriella. Let’s get that baby out of her.”

  As if she heard him, Celine’s scream ripped through the house.

  Fen charged into the room a minute later, Celine draped over his arms, panic blooming in his face, realization dawning as he saw the room already set up. “She’s starting. It’s starting. The baby’s coming.”

  After that, the day became a blur.

  At some point, Balder handed her a stack of sheets, then another one. Carted away the soiled, bloody ones. So much blood. Gabriella wiped her shaking hands on her jeans, before realizing what she was doing, and Mir handed her a white towel. It seemed worse, somehow, to see all that red on all that white. Obscene.

  And Celine.

  Gabriella didn’t know what was worse—all the blood—or the fact that after Celine’s initial, panicked scream, the tiny blonde hadn’t made another sound. Just grit her teeth through every contraction, blew out long, loud breaths between them, while Fen wiped the sweat off her face. But while her face grew redder and redder, his grew grayer and grayer. And every time he met Gabriella’s eyes; she saw the questions in them. When How soon Is this how it’s supposed to be?

  When the five-hour mark ticked by, Gabriella gave herself another. But after that, Celine didn’t have more time. She and the baby were running out, and even Fen knew it.

  “Why is she so tired? She’s not even trying anymore. She’s just lying there. Is this right? Is she supposed to be doing that?”

 

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