The Tower

by L. A. McGinnis

  She shuddered. Do what has to be done. It was something her father always said.

  Balder’s arms caged her into an embrace. “Be careful, the past is an anchor. It can either tether you, or it can drag you under.” She felt an answering tremor go through him. “What happened in the Underworld, Gabbie? What did Hel put you through?”

  Each question begged a hundred more.

  “It was…” Gabriella was hesitant to even speak of it. But if she’d been locked in a room with her father, what had the others gone through? Even Balder seemed different, as if he had come out slightly darker in nature.

  Gabriella wavered. Reliving those moments—hours—she’d spent with her father would cost her, and she knew it. She could have wrung the details of her entire life from those hours. Instead, she settled on one sentence.

  “I went through every room, all six of them.”

  Balder stiffened, his hold on her tightening.

  “Every one of them, each of them more horrible than the one before. I kept telling myself I could do it. I could make it. After every one, I thought I was finished. But then I got to Fear.

  “And my father was waiting.”

  Once, she might have felt the need to replay it, step by horrible step for him. She would have dissected each and every move they’d made, every vindictive word they’d spoken. But she’d given the man too much power over her for too long.

  “Four months ago, I killed my father. Moments after he killed my mother.” Gabriella kept her voice matter-of-fact. “He’d calculated that with both of us gone, the rations would last him longer. His mistake was killing her first and leaving me for last.” For a moment, she felt herself being dragged under by the ugliness of her past.

  “Go ahead. Tell me the rest,” he urged.

  “The food lasted exactly nine weeks, just like he’d predicted. But when the Grim began purging our neighborhood, I escaped just ahead of the killing, which is the night we crossed paths.” She went silent, replaying those rooms again in her head.

  “You know, I don’t think Hel meant for me to survive those chambers at all,” she mused. “Especially not the last one with my father.” She leaned farther back into him, relishing his strength. Trusting someone else, for once. “But I did. I’ve survived him. Just like I always did.”

  With the words, her heart gave a swift, fierce flutter.

  “I’m not a good person, Balder,” she warned. “I’ve tried to be. But I’m not. But I’m who you need right now if we stand a chance at beating David Domenic. But I promise you this—I’ll never lie to you, and I’ll always have your back.” His fingers slipped away from her neck as she turned to face him, with the intention of folding herself into him. What she saw made her breath catch in her throat.

  The light from the fire painted him a pale, flickering gold, and her gaze caught on the expression on Balder’s handsome face. Saturnine. Pitiless. She drew in a sharp breath.

  Maybe she hadn’t changed. But he sure had.

  “Let me tell you what that bitch did to me.” There was a new quality to him now, as if he could bend into the light or the dark at will. Time spun out endlessly as Gabriella waited, afraid of what she would hear.

  “I was only trapped in one room,” he said, that cold, chilling expression tainting his face.

  “The chamber was Fear, and while I was there… It changed something in me.” A shudder went through him as she pulled slightly away. “I don’t know how, or why, but there’s this new edge to me. Another side to me—one I didn’t even know existed. And I seem unable to control it.” There was a sharper edge to him now, and when he smiled, she shivered. “I never understood what it meant to not know right from wrong. To be tempted by evil.

  “Now I do. And I’m having a hard time fighting it. Logically, I know these urges are wrong. I know they go against everything I believe in. But on the other hand, it’s as if a weight has been lifted from me.” With a jolt, Gabriella realized just how much she’d come to rely on Balder’s unwavering morality, as if he were the compass she continually checked herself against.

  “I could do anything I want, now. And no one could stop me.” The way he said it, in such an innocent, wondering tone, was definitely not a good thing.

  “Balder?” she tugged on his arm. “Let’s talk to Mir, or Odin, or someone. Whatever happened to you, whatever changed—you’re scaring me. Whatever these feelings are… This isn’t you.”

  “I know, it’s more like you,” he observed, and she winced. “Morally gray, or whatever term you’d prefer to use. Feels good, less restricting, to know you have all these choices.”

  No, Gabriella thought, she didn’t like this one bit.

  “I have a few points I’d like to make. Improvements to your plan.” He ran a finger along her jaw and she shivered. “I’ll admit, I didn’t expect evil to feel this good, but it does.” Fire burned hot in his eyes. “As if there’s no limit to what’s possible, as if there are no boundaries.”

  Her world tilted alarmingly. She had to find Mir. Odin. Someone.

  “No, Balder. There has to be limits. Even at my very worst, I had limits. Lines I wouldn’t cross…”

  He scoffed. “You were a paid assassin, for the gods’ sake. How many lines could there have possibly been?”

  Her heart stuttered at the derision in his tone. “A lot, actually. When death and revenge are your lifestyle, then lines and limits are the only things that keep you from becoming a monster.” She watched Balder’s mind work through the concept. Reject it.

  “Balance, Balder. You and me. Remember?” She felt dread grow inside of her, a horrible, sinking feeling. “You and me, Balder. Two threads. Yin and Yang.” The words came faster until she sounded desperate. “You’re my rock, Balder, you anchor me. I need you to keep me from getting lost…”

  “What if we’re two of a kind?”

  Gabriella pictured the two of them falling, falling into the darkness. “You’re not like me at all, Balder. You’re better than that. You’re better than me,” she begged.

  “And if I’m not?” He sounded legitimately curious. Then the scales won’t balance.

  “Then we’ve already lost. Because…”

  “Hel tried to trick us,” he interrupted, “tried to kill us all. What should we do? Let her get away with it?” His eyes grew darker. “I say the punishment should match the crime. As soon as we don’t need her anymore, I plan to kill her.”

  “You can’t.” Gabriella said fiercely, intent on talking sense into him. “You saved her from Domenic, you got her out of the house, remember? You saved her life, after everything she did to you. That was…” She struggled for the word. “Noble, I guess. What about your principles, what about your code of honor? You’ve lived by those your whole life. You can’t just throw all that away.”

  “All of that, in retrospect, was a mistake,” he observed impassively. “How many times, Gabriella?”

  “What? What do you mean, how many times?”

  “How many times did your father hurt you in that room, Gabbie? How long did he make you suffer?” She stayed very quiet. Whatever had happened to him, whether it was in the Underworld, or in the cairn, she could figure out how to help him—how to fix him…

  “Answer me.”

  “No.” She pushed him away, her voice shaking. “This isn’t you. This isn’t the man I love, and this isn’t helping. None of this will keep us alive or gain us allies or help defeat the Orobus.”

  He stepped closer. “And I say she pays. How. Many. Times?”

  Gabriella crossed her arms over her chest.

  “If you don’t want to answer, so be it. I’ll make her pay as I see fit.”

  Something inside of her shriveled and died. “No,” she argued, but her voice sounded desperate.

  “No,” she stated, stronger this time. “You’re not killing anyone. Especially not for me. We see this thing through, exactly the way we have it planned. Together.” Gabriella hugged herself tight while she searched
his face, every proud, hard line of it for any trace of the man she loved. “We either win this thing, or we don’t. And if we don’t, then it won’t matter who pays for what.”

  “If we win—I say she pays.” His eyes narrowed down to slits. “Now. I have a few suggestions I’d like to propose.” He spun a strand of her hair around his finger. “And I really hope you’ll consider them.”

  As ruthlessness glittered in his eyes, Gabriella knew she’d only glimpsed the depths of darkness in Balder. She’d lost him in that cairn. The man she’d known had been left behind, along with all those hapless souls Hel warned them about.

  47

  “Once we secure the Fates’ help, we reorganize back here.”

  Hours later, Balder listened as Gabriella wrapped up her presentation.

  Of course, there was only one way into Asgard. And only one devious, Prada-draped gatekeeper, who was doing her best to keep her distance from him right about now. Tyr had been appointed the de facto leader of this little expedition—and with Gabriella’s reputation riding on its success—Balder would ensure it was.

  And if his hands happened to end up around Hel’s neck when no one was looking, well then, he’d call this a win all around.

  Despite his best efforts, he noticed the way Gabriella’s eyes kept seeking him out when she thought he wasn’t looking. Felt the doubt in her gaze. Saw fear flash in her eyes.

  Right now, though, tension was coiled up inside of her like a spring. Partly because of the “improvements” he’d suggested. With each one, the color drained from her face. With each one, he felt like he was taking a step away from her. And yet, he hadn’t been able to stop himself. He wanted to burn everything to ash. And then watch it burn some more.

  It made no sense. Part of him hated himself. But another part, this evil, hateful part, reveled in the thought of chaos. Which didn’t feel right, but didn’t feel exactly wrong, either. Pushing down his destructive urges, he focused on the mission. How much he loved Gabriella. How he wished things could be simple between them again.

  Sick of the back and forth bickering, he swung his feet up onto the table, scattering papers everywhere. “So that’s it, then. We’re in agreement?”

  Tyr glared at him. Odin fixed him with a cool, knowing smile. Hel edged farther away. Mir looked slightly sick, as if he saw the depths of his corruption. And Gabriella left without a word.

  “Good talk, then. We ride at dawn.” His words rang across a mostly empty room, since Odin was the only one left. Whatever dark magic the cairn had dumped into their old king restored him back to his former glory and then some. Balder searched Odin’s face surreptitiously, looking for the cost. Because there was always a cost.

  And just because there weren’t any visible signs didn’t mean there wasn’t something lurking beneath the surface.

  “Careful, Balder. Don’t scratch this surface,” Odin warned coolly. “You might not want to discover what’s beneath it.” Even the flicker of amusement in Odin’s blue eyes died. “Please tell me you were kidding when you suggested killing the Fates?”

  He chuckled. “Of course, I was.” Fuck no, I wasn’t.

  “Eliminate the future entirely,” Odin mused, “or tangle the threads together so tightly there’d be no way to sort them out. Sounds like a great plan. Good thing it was vetoed by everyone in the room.”

  “Don’t sound so high and mighty. Thought’s probably crossed your mind a time or two.”

  “Never brought it up as a viable option in a planning meeting with my lover at the helm.”

  “Maybe you just never had the balls,” Balder observed drily. “Besides, no one knows what would happen if they were actually gone.”

  “Total and complete chaos?” suggested Odin.

  “Perhaps,” Balder answered, the thought holding a certain amount of cache for him. “Chaos wouldn’t be the worst thing to ever happen.”

  Odin lifted an eyebrow. “Gabriella’s plan to get the Fates to cooperate is our best option. Don’t screw this up because you’ve decided to go rogue. Once they’re on our side, we gain a modicum of power back.”

  “And if it doesn’t work?”

  Odin hesitated. “Then let’s hope Fen’s more successful with the Morrigan.”

  “And if he’s not?” Balder pushed.

  “Well aren’t you a negative bastard today?” Odin snarled. “Tell me, what plan do you have to save us all from this disastrous mess?”

  “We’re wasting time, trying to win allies to our side. It makes us look desperate.”

  “We are desperate. And everyone else should be, too, if they’re smart. Once the Orobus burns through this world, he’ll come for theirs. If we don’t unite now, we’ll be too weak to stand against him. Together we might be strong enough to mount an offensive.”

  “And we’ll all die a glorious death together?”

  “Hopefully not. Hopefully we lock his ass back up. Or figure out a way to end him. Which is looking statistically impossible.”

  Balder pulled his boots down off the table. “Let’s just say the Fates decide to cooperate. What will the cost be?”

  “With them?” Odin’s lip curled. “Oh, you know, the usual. A pound of flesh and your firstborn. Whatever they want, we give them, if payment puts them on our side and not in the Orobus’s.”

  “And this is all part of your plan to get those three duplicitous goddesses on our side, right?”

  “By giving them whatever they want,” Odin agreed. “If you have a better idea, I’m all ears. If you don’t, then I suggest you get with the program. We’re beggars going to them with our hats in our hands.”

  Balder didn’t like that, not one bit. He was tired of giving away the farm, when survival should be bargaining chip enough. “This is Gabriella’s idea, and I’ll do whatever I must to ensure its success. Once we reach Asgard,” Balder said, keeping his tone casual, “getting the Fates to agree to help us will be my main priority.”

  “Your priority is sticking to the plan,” Odin threatened. “If you screw this up, so help me gods, I will kill you myself.”

  “No worries.” Balder waved his hand dismissively. “I got it covered.” And indeed, he did. Thankfully, they had everything on-site he’d need to force his hand with the Fates. For them to do his bidding, intimidation was the way to go.

  “Damn it, Balder…” Odin gritted out.

  “Like I said, I have it covered. I’ll ensure this works.” Balder couldn’t keep the edge of frustration out of his voice. “And just so you know, my priority is Gabriella.”

  “Then don’t screw this up, if you’re really in love with her,” Odin warned. “And get hold of yourself, I have to be able to trust you if things get dicey. And right now, I don’t.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t trust myself much these days. And I’ll kill anyone standing in the way of Gabbie’s plan, including that trio of goddesses.”

  The harsh, exhaled breath behind him was Balder’s only warning that they weren’t alone. Bastard. He fumed, seeing triumph in Odin’s eyes. You clever, clever bastard. Turning, he found Gabriella, her hand frozen in mid-air, as if she’d been reaching for him. Her hand fell back to her side.

  “I came back for these,” she said, indicating the papers strewn across the table. “But it seems you’ve been doing some planning of your own. We agreed. No acts of aggression against the Fates.”

  When Balder took a step forward, she practically cartwheeled away from him so violently, she stumbled back.

  “Gabbie, you shouldn’t have heard that.” Wildly, he wondered how it had come to this. Of all the mistakes he could have made, this was the worst. He’d never wanted to hurt her, not for anything. “I wish you hadn’t heard that. None of it was true.”

  Sadly, she shook her head. “Oh, Balder, I wish I hadn’t heard it either.” Because even she had seen the apology didn’t quite reach his eyes, and his words were edged with dishonesty.

  On their foray to the Underworld, Hel snapped up a few more items
from the backroom at Burberry’s, Gabriella hot on her heels. Apparently eager to get this over and done with, and still not talking to him. Mir and Tyr were right behind them, while he brought up the rear, biding his time.

  Mir was sticking to him like glue, so Balder figured Gabbie had appointed him as a watchdog. Either that—or Mir had gotten himself a glimpse inside the dark and twisted cavern that passed for the inside of Balder’s head—and appointed himself.

  Neither mattered.

  Balder tore his gaze away from Gabriella long enough to find Hel in the crowd.

  It hadn’t escaped him that the Goddess of Death kept one uneasy eye fixed on him and maintained a healthy distance between them.

  As everyone poofed away into nothingness, one by one, Balder stepped through last, giving the sleek marble and stainless boutique a quick, final scan. Passing through was a painful affair, and when he finally popped back into existence on the other side, Tyr was finalizing the run-through, Gabbie focused on his words. So intent.

  That’s one of the things he absolutely loved about her. So focused. As if the task at hand was the only thing of importance in the entire world.

  Once, she had felt that way about him.

  Remembering that, Balder felt a pang of regret. All he wanted was for things to go back to normal. To push down this rage-edged darkness that threatened to take him over. As if she felt him staring, Gabriella glanced over, then looked away, her mouth in a tight line.

  Two days ago, that look on her face would have slayed him.

  Now, however, her hurt only pushed him harder to make sure he succeeded today. No matter what, he wasn’t about to walk out of Asgard with anything less than the Fates’ total and complete obedience. Anything less than compliance was not an option.

  “Everyone knows what they’re supposed to do?”

  Nods all around. Such good little soldiers. Once, he was one of them, but not today.