Guardians of the Portals

by Nya Rawlyns

  Tyr rubbed at his mouth and paced the clearing, rapidly calculating probabilities, then came to a decision. He approached Wolf with his hand extended. "I think we can come to an agreement, Liuthr. However, there is the small matter of..."

  "I am not a small matter, Mr. Tyr." Caitlin sauntered into the clearing, shoving a taller man ahead of her. "I believe these are the last of them."

  Tyr lifted an eyebrow and chuckled. "Well played, Liuthr. You were always known for your tactical skills."

  Wolf smiled. "Not me this time, Gothi." He took the older man's elbow and guided him to the bench. "Let's start over, shall we?"

  Tyr sat and crossed his right leg over his left. "All right, then. What is it you plan to do and how can we help?"

  Wolf kept an eye on Caitlin as she settled her captive on the ground by the picnic table. Jake joined her and adjusted plastic straps over the man's wrists and ankles. He nodded at his daughter and slipped away to continue patrolling the area while Wolf described what they knew of Knutr's complicity and Gunnarr's ill-advised dispatching of Kieran to take out his cousin. Trey's position in the unfolding drama was less clear-cut. He seemed to operate independently, with an agenda that appeared, on the surface, geared to a simple rescue mission—to remove his friend, Jake's son, from harm's way and get him drug-free.

  Tyr sighed and said, "It's not going to be that easy. Leonov has an army at his command. Even Trey, with all his unique skills, will not be able to penetrate the layers of protection they'll throw around Knutr. And so long as that bastard has information to plumb regarding the Portals, you can bet he's safe as houses."

  "Jake has a plan. He figures Trey will have found Kieran and is either laying low and waiting for an opportunity or he's already made the snatch and is heading back north toward the one place he knows that's safe."

  "And where would that be?"

  Wolf ignored the question and continued, "We need access to the Portals as I'm not authorized. We need weapons, transport and backup if it goes south." He paused and looked hard at his Gothi. "And I want my command back."

  "Well, that might be difficult. When we found out about Eirik..."

  Caitlin strode up to the Gothi and pressed her Glock against his skull. To his credit the man never blinked.

  "I think, sir, that you will find a way to fulfill that simple request for Wolf. Otherwise, the next item on your agenda will walk out of here with a polite 'fuck you' and all your plans will have been for nothing."

  Wolf hid a smile as he watched a sliver of fear chase across his Gothi's face. Losing the asset would be the nightmare that toppled his bid for power amongst the Althings. Wolf had no doubt that Tyr had assumed Eirik's mantle on a promise of bringing Caitlin and her extraordinary gifts into the fold.

  Tyr licked his lips and turned to stare at the thin woman casually pivoting the Glock along his forehead. "And you are..."

  Grinning, Caitlin backed away a step, still keeping the weapon trained on the older man. Wolf and Gothi Tyr stared, open-mouthed, as Caitlin's features dissolved and reformed, like wax melting in the sun and flowing over a mannequin, molding and taking its new shape. Eyes squinting tight in concentration, she slithered into the new template.

  Tyr hissed, "Fuck me," as the man took shape before his eyes, tall, lean, the neck corded with ropey muscle mass, a cyclist's build with zero body fat. With a worried frown he glanced quickly at Wolf, then at the stranger's crotch, eyes widening at the characteristic bulge in the black lycra tights.

  Wolf nodded and muttered, "Down to the last detail," and prayed to Freyja that his mate never tried that on him, because he was feeling vaguely turned on and extremely uncomfortable at his own reaction. When the stranger winked at him, he blushed crimson to his roots.

  Fortunately his gothi was mesmerized by the transformation and not looking in his direction. This demonstration was the first real evidence of her gift to anyone outside of her immediate family, and him. Eirik had been privy to small, insignificant changes, teasers only, never the complete package. He'd had to rely on Gunnarr's second-hand description of what had transpired when she and her father had made the aborted attempt to snatch Kieran from Greyfalcon and Knutr. That debacle had led to Trey's abduction of Caitlin and his later fall from grace. All sides had lost men, good men, yet that hadn't deterred Eirik from making Caitlin priority one, even taking over personal supervision of her training.

  Tyr's jaw clenched as he lusted after the prize the Althing elite had dreamt of ever since her family legacy became known.

  Wolf read the man's expression and decided he'd best draw the line in the sand. "She's not on the table, Gothi. Caitlin offers her abilities in exchange for assistance in rescuing her brother. But she is not, and never will be, a research subject for you or anyone else." Wolf stood and moved to stand beside his mate. "Is that agreed?"

  "Of course, Liuthr. But perhaps, she, uh, he would be amenable to us taking blood samples for further study."

  Wolf sputtered, "Didn't you...?" but Caitlin touched his elbow and drew him toward her. Fascinated he watched her slowly morph to her normal shape and felt immensely relieved to see her in a female form. It wasn't that he objected to her shape-shifting—in truth he had a certain fondness for her Xena template—but this moved him way past his comfort level.

  Caitlin ran her left hand through her now normally light blond hair as she collected her thoughts. "I don't see anything wrong with taking a few samples, Gothi Tyr," she leveled the Glock at the man's midsection, "so long as that is all you do. Are we agreed?"

  "Of course, dear girl. That's all that Eirik, we, ever wanted from you."

  Caitlin lowered her weapon and turned to Wolf who gave her an odd look. They both knew the man was lying through his teeth. They would deal with that later. Right now they needed a working agreement for materiel and backup in order to take on the Mafiya.

  Curious, Tyr asked, "Is there a reason you've excluded Gunnarr from your plans? It seems he would be in a position to offer assistance. A matter of self-interest considering it's his son who is at risk."

  "I think I can answer that."

  "And you are?" Tyr turned to the compact man who'd silently joined the group while their attention had been on Caitlin's parlor trick.

  "Jake O'Brien."

  "Ah, ComsTech head. You have an interesting history, Mr. O'Brien."

  Jake ignored the barb. "Trey thinks your people killed my girl here. That's why he went back to daddy. And that's why he wants to rescue my son. Atonement. Plain and simple."

  "So when he finds out?"

  "He won't."

  "I don't understand. If he realizes we didn't kill the asset ... uh, I'm sorry, dear. Caitlin." Tyr gave her an unctuous smile and asked, "Well, won't he jump at the chance to rejoin the Althings?" Tyr turned to Caitlin and remarked that they suspected some sort of relationship had developed between her and Trey, although only Eirik seemed to have any details. He gave her a questioning glance, clearly expecting an answer.

  Wolf snarled, "He killed her mother. She has no relationship with Trey. She..." He caught himself before saying 'she belongs to me now'.

  Jake came up behind his daughter and murmured in her ear. She nodded yes and moved toward the bay. He checked his watch and glanced at Wolf, then followed Caitlin out of the clearing. They would take the boat back to the mainland, leaving Wolf to tie up loose ends with his people.

  Tyr asked, unable to keep a worried tone out of his voice, "What have you done with my men?"

  "I'm sorry about the pilot. The rest are sleeping it off." Wolf held up a remote and clicked a button.

  A fireball lit the late afternoon sky as Wolf calmly remarked, "That should bring someone soon enough." He turned and strode toward the far parking lot and the Jeep.

  Tyr yelled at Wolf's retreating back, "You'll regret this, Liuthr. Without Eirik to protect you, you'd better watch your back."

  Fumbling in his pocket Tyr found his cell phone and flipped it open, grunting in dismay at the la
ck of bars.

  "Not even your little band of merry men will protect you, Shield Wolf."

  Tyr spun to look for his drugged team members and stumbled over the man lying trussed on the ground, his eyes scrunched tight, feigning unconsciousness, but his ragged breathing gave him away. Tyr reached for the knife holstered on the man's belt.

  With a sigh he muttered, "Gods, I hate this shit."

  ****

  "Dad, do you think they'll really help us. I don't have a good feeling about this. I'd rather we try to do it ourselves."

  "Caty, girl. We've done that. Didn't work out so hot. Got you lost to me. To Kieran." He spun the wheel and guided the Bass boat into the channel, bucking the cross wind and wicked chop. "Get the slickers. We're gonna get wet."

  She reached into a plastic locker and pulled out the raingear. The sun slid behind a low-lying bank of clouds huddling along the distant shoreline. She shivered as the temps dropped dramatically in the stiff breeze. She helped her father shrug into his slicker before slipping the too-large jacket over her thin shoulders. Yanking a watch cap over her already wet hair, she handed a similar one to her father but he brushed it aside.

  "You're too skinny."

  She sighed. She'd been waiting for the talk. It looked like now was the time.

  "I can't seem to eat anymore. I changed. It did something to my body chemistry."

  "Not just that I don't think."

  "I-I, uh, don't know..."

  "Caitlin O'Brien. Start talking, girl. All of it. I can't protect you and Kieran unless I know exactly what happened to you in that hell-hole."

  "Dad, please."

  "Caty, the man they call the Falcon is on the other end of that line that's cutting you in two, and he's gonna be reeling you in once he knows you're alive. And it won't go well for the man I think you might love."

  "Wolf? I'm, uh, I'm not sure..."

  "Well, I am, girl. He's a good man. The Falcon's turned into a stoner head case like your brother. The only difference is he keeps his shit together a bit better than Kier. The two of them are death on wheels. He's going come for you and nobody standing in his way is gonna get out alive."

  "Oh, Dad. What's going to happen now?"

  Caitlin felt the vibration in her gut, steady and comforting. What would she do if the connection severed? How would she survive losing one of them? She refused to acknowledge the real question, which one are you willing to let go?

  Jake looked sideways at his daughter, curious at the play of emotion racing across her face. He had hoped she would settle on the giant warrior who offered her his heart and soul, the man who would die to protect her. But he wasn't sure that the man's love was going to be enough and that troubled him. He needed to understand the stranger sitting next to him, as the woman who had been his precious daughter no longer existed. She'd transformed, but it had nothing to do with her gift—that was just a physical magic trick. There was something else and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

  He listened carefully as she spoke, the words whipping away in the wind, yet he heard every nuanced sentence, seeing with her mind's eye as she left nothing out. As he pulled into the small pier, he brushed at his eyes and made a silent vow.

  Caitlin looked away from her father's strained face and asked with a small voice, "So what happens now?"

  Jake cut the engine, the silence deafening in the chill air.

  He jumped onto the dock and secured a line to a cleat. Looking at the lost woman staring at him, he murmured, "Armageddon."

  Chapter Thirteen

  "You look like shit, boy." Jake gave Trey a once-over, not pleased with what he was seeing.

  Trey shrugged and stared, his face ravaged with pain. He sipped at the cooling coffee and grimaced. Jake had heard the rumors but this was the first time he'd seen it for himself. Whatever the drugs were that still dripped through his system, they had the man's gut coiled into knots and his brow beaded with sweat. Withdrawal was an ugly process, one he'd gone through with his son more than once.

  Jake decided he'd better get the conversation on track and the first order of business was what had happened to his son.

  He barked, "Where's Kieran?"

  "With Knutr. He's safe enough for now."

  "Damn."

  "It was the best I could do. Gunnarr's working up a plan. I'm to get back to him tomorrow."

  "Why the hell are you here and not my son?"

  Trey grimaced and said, "Fair question. I don't have all the answers but here's what I know."

  Listening carefully as Trey recapped what had happened when he'd tried to infiltrate Leonov's compound, only to be captured and put in holding with Kieran, Jake had a hard time keeping control of his anger and disgust. Speaking with a flat voice, devoid of emotion, Trey gave an unabridged account of their treatment—the beatings, the drugs ... and other things. That Knutr had put a stop to some of the worst perversions did nothing to mask the man's complicity in getting both men hooked on heroin. The result of that sat across from him in an agony of despair.

  Jake found it difficult to follow the convoluted tale that Trey spun about Knutr cutting him loose. The former second-in-command of Greyfalcon was offering to play at double agent in return for some unspecified concessions that Trey was unwilling or unable to share. It probably didn't matter in the long run. He wasn't interested in dissecting the man's motivations. Let those sick fucks work out their family issues on their own time. He wanted his son. Whatever it took to make that happen, he was all for it.

  "I still want to know ... why you? Seems to me you'd make for a better hostage than Kieran."

  Shrugging, he said, "He's not family. I am. When I say Knutr's ready to share information about Leonov's organization, Gunnarr's going to listen."

  That didn't mean he'd believe it. Gunnarr didn't get to where he was by being stupid ... or trusting. While Knutr might be ready to bargain, he seriously doubted the wayward cousin was really ready to cross his new handlers by sharing intel with Greyfalcon. That strained everyone's credulity given the man's history.

  Sensing he'd gotten as far as he could along that line, he asked again, "Explain to me exactly what Knutr's got in mind."

  Trey grunted, "He's playing us, using me."

  No shit Sherlock... Tell him something he didn't know. And it still didn't answer the question.

  He pressed Trey, "Does he really think you and Gunnarr and the rest of them are that stupid? What's he really after?"

  "It's simple. He wants Greyfalcon, always has." Trey coughed, wincing as his shoulder lifted and settled with the effort. "He plans to start a war between Leonov and Greyfalcon, then stand by and watch them annihilate each other."

  Jake huffed, "And conveniently pick up the pieces when the dust settles. What's your father got to say about that?" Jake placed a little more emphasis on 'your father' than he meant to. Trey rarely acknowledged the head of Greyfalcon as anything other than 'Gunnarr'.

  "He wasn't exactly in a sharing mood. I suspect he's conferencing with whoever's in charge of the Althings now."

  "That'd be Tyr."

  Trey raised an eyebrow and stared hard at Jake. "And you know this how?" He didn't look pleased at the news.

  "That's not important. All I care about is getting Kieran back." Slapping a fist on the table, he growled, "Dammit, Falcon, why didn't you just bring him back with you?"

  Trey lowered his gaze but not so quickly that Jake couldn't see the regret and something else flickering in his eyes. The man's next words surprised him.

  "I need to get clean, Jake. It's beyond even my control now. If I can't shake this, I'm not going to be any use to you." He let the 'or anyone else' hang unspoken.

  Jake watched the compact man's hands tremble uncontrollably. Soon he'd be in full tremors and no one, not even Gunnarr's people, knew what that would do to one with a heightened metabolism like Falcon's. He hated that he sympathized with this pathetic creature who had allowed his wife to die and turned his daughter into a near stranger
. But he needed him.

  "What do you want me to do?"

  "I need to go into stasis. For however long it takes."

  "Gimme a clue."

  "Days, maybe more. I don't know. We usually don't have problems with dependency."

  Jake watched with concern as Trey struggled to mask the embarrassment and worry over his 'condition'. He'd always been a loose cannon at best, but with skills that had served many purposes, if not his own. Jake was beginning to wonder if he'd made a mistake involving someone so unstable in the operation.

  "All right. So what's that involve?"

  "I need a place to stay. Someone to keep me hydrated. I might, uh, need..."

  "What?" Jake barked.

  "Restraints."

  Jake rubbed his chin and considered his options. He and Caty and her randy guard-dog were champing at the bit to move on their 'rescue Kieran and take down Greyfalcon' half-assed plan. But without manpower and hardware, they were fucked six ways from Sunday.

  "All right. I've got a place. But there's something you need to hear first."

  "What?"

  "Not here." Jake slid off the vinyl seat and stalked to the door, not bothering to check if Falcon was behind him. He had a feeling this was a bad idea but he had few options left. He needed to gather all the players and get his ducks in a row, otherwise they might as well all scatter in the breeze and simply wait to be picked off one by one. Leonov smelled blood now. Not even Gunnarr and the Althings together were going to be able to stem the tide this time.

  He motioned for Trey to get into the Jeep, grimacing in sympathy as the stocky man grunted in pain trying to maneuver into the vehicle. He could see his entire body contracting in agony—and not from the drugs assaulting his system. That shit was probably the only thing keeping him functioning at even a minimal level. Unfortunately, Gunnarr had used up all his chits when his son had nearly lost his leg after his rescue from what they all called the Hell Dimension. There'd be no phalanx of healers and magic juju this time. The kid—and he smiled to himself at that for this creature was centuries old compared to his in earth years—the kid would have to rely on his own resources this time around.