by Angel Lawson
The vibration grows, the walls of Lucifer’s court crumbling like the Academy did when we ran toward the temple. The ground shakes, like we’re caught in an earthquake. The magic binds that held us fall away and I pull away from Marshal, rushing toward Luke. Before I can reach him, he looks down at us from his father’s throne, Lucifer’s body hunched over with a pool of dark blood spreading from his chest and says, “I’m sorry,” before holding up his hand and blasting us straight out of hell.
“I’m sorry.”
I wake, the glare of light in my eyes. I hold up my hand and struggle to a sitting position, trying to muster the energy to fight, to figure out why Luke is apologizing for killing his father.
But there is no fight.
No courtroom.
No Hell.
There’s just blue sky and a warm sun. Soft, green grass under my ass and birds chirping nearby.
Birds.
Chirping.
I look around and see my men, my allies, my lovers sprawled on the grass, as dazed as I am. Next to me, Elizabeth rubs her eyes. Beyond her, Darius shakes his head.
“What the hell?” a panicked voice shouts in the distance.
My heart skips when I hear it. The mere sound shaking me from my stupor. When I see her, I can’t hold onto the sob ripping through my chest. Morgan walks out, Gods no, she waddles out of the Nead, hand clasped over her mouth. Shadowy, imposing figures follow her out of the house and into the yard. The Guardians; Clinton, Sam, Bunny, Damien, and Dylan. They rush out and into the yard, reaching out to help. But that’s not all, there’s someone else; Miya.
He’s healed and better.
He’s so very handsome and alive.
“Is it over?” Morgan asks, standing over me, her belly eclipsing the sun. Dylan offers me his hand and lifts me easily off the ground.
“I don’t know,” I admit. I look to everyone else. They seem as confused as I feel. “We were in the sixth circle, Luke…he betrayed us but—”
“He didn’t,” Elizabeth says, brushing off her butt. “He killed his father.”
“Where is he then?” Clinton asks.
“Maybe he didn’t make it,” Bunny suggests.
“No,” I say, glancing at Agis and Armin as they walk over. I feel their eyes sweep over me to make sure I’m okay. “He stayed behind.”
“How do you know?” Marshal asks.
My eyes flick to Rupert, whose lips make a thin line. He knows. My hand hovers over my stomach, over the knot twisting inside. “Because I can feel him. He’s still there.”
“Then what does this mean?” Damien asks, searching the sky. “Is it over? Did you stop it?”
“If you’re back and alive, then yeah, I think so.” Dylan’s stern mouth lifts into a grin. “I think you did it. You saved us.”
What he’s saying is slow to process, probably because of what we’ve been through; the tricks and trials and death and destruction, but when it does it feels like a tidal wave of relief. The celebration is short lived.
“Oh,” Morgan gasps, grabbing her belly with one hand and Dylan’s arm with the other. He holds her up while she grimaces and bends over. “The apocalypse may be over, but I think this baby is ready to come.”
38
Hildi
Morgan has her baby at home, assisted by Mrs. Davis. We’re all a little shell-shocked, reeling from our time in the Lowerworld, but the squeals from inside the room marking the arrival of the baby, a little girl named Maeve, makes everything feel a little better.
Life goes on.
Love goes on.
And so will the Immortals. That’s a given. What’s not, is how and where?
That’s the question that lingers as the days pass.
The deal was that the Immortals were free after they did this. From slavery or obligation. From one another if they wanted. Yet we stayed at the Nead and settled back into the basement like we had before. There’s less venom between us than before. More trust. More laughter. And yeah, a lot more sex.
The Immortals may be free to go, but the bond we created to save the world runs deep. Deeper than the bands of rings we wear on our fingers. No one seems in a rush to go anywhere, but a sense of restlessness bubbles beneath the surface. These are men that need to fight and right now their only outlet for that is one another—or me.
One favorite topic? Luke.
“He betrayed us,” Marshal says. We’re standing around the training ring, watching Agis and Armin beat the crap out of one another. A pile of money sits on the edge of the mat—bets on who will win. “I knew he was a conniving prick.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I think…I think he saved us.”
“Then where is he?” Rupert asks. He’s not as harsh about it as Marshal, who is intolerant on his good days, but he’s trying to work it out logically. “If his father is dead and if you two are still connected, then why didn’t he come with us?”
I glance at Miya, as I do a million times each day. He’s here. He’s back. He’s whole.
“Maybe,” I say carefully, “he and Lucifer can’t both be here at once.”
“Or maybe,” Marshal says, wincing as Armin’s legs are swiped from under him and he lands with a crashing thud, “Maybe he’s sitting on that throne himself and plotting his next move.”
I don’t have the answers. No one does, but I don’t think Marshal’s right.
The best we can tell is that when he overthrew his father, he gained the title of King of Hell. Luke never had the ambition to take over the realms, I believe that, but he also wouldn’t abandon his duty. I miss him. Even with all my men and all the pieces back in place, I feel a painful gap.
I try to fill it with Morgan and the baby. Dinners with everyone. Sly, dirty sex with Marshal. Painfully slow, tantric lovemaking with Miya. Late night firepits on the roof of The Nead, overlooking the city that has no idea how close it came, again, to being overtaken. I distract myself in the library with Rupert, stealing kisses when Dylan isn’t looking. Armin and I sleep, for hours and hours, trying to catch up on all the exhaustion that has melded into our bones. And then there’s the flying.
Agis lifting me into his arms and soaring with me over the city just before dawn, watching the sunrise over the water.
My days are full.
But still…we’re restless.
It’s one of these days where we’re in the backyard. Morgan and I sit on a red and white checked blanket with the baby, marveling at her ability to roll over.
“She’s a genius,” I declare, knowing it’s ridiculous. Also knowing it’s true.
“You’re already her godmother, no need to suck up,” Morgan says.
I place my finger into Maeve’s and she grips it like a vice. “Just telling the truth.”
The guys are scattered about. Clinton and Agis working the grill—determined to show off their meat-searing skills. Sam and Marshal laying lazily on soft, padded lawn chairs. Rupert reads a book under the covered patio. Miya and Armin joust in the back corner with sticks, perfecting some lost martial art. Excited voices echo by the door and I shade my eyes, seeing Bunny and Dylan walk out of the house with a guest.
Professor Christensen.
I cast a wary eye toward the others. The professor isn’t a bad man, he just, more often than not, delivers complications.
After brief hellos and a lot of skeptical looks, he gets to the point.
“Since you’ve all had a few weeks to rest, I’m here to offer you a job.” His eyes flit over the Immortals and land on me. “If you’re interested.”
“What kind of job?” Armin asks.
Marshal leans against a pillar on the porch. “Mercenaries?”
“Contractors?” Agis tosses out.
“No,” the professor laughs. “A job, as professionals, not soldiers.”
The five of them look completely perplexed.
“Maybe a little more information would help,” I suggest. “What kind of work. Where is it located.”
> He smiles. “Ah, right. Well, it’s something you’re familiar with, actually The Academy of the Immortals.”
Marshal chokes on his drink. “Excuse me?”
“The Academy, when not being used as a training ground for the apocalypse, is a long-standing institution. Since the old one was destroyed, a new one has been created, and it needs a staff.”
“You want us to teach school?” Armin clarifies.
“That sounds like a fucking war to me.” Agis runs his hand through his hair.
“You would take the roll of administrators and instructors, something a few of you already have experience with. You’d create the curriculum, foster relationships with the students, and hopefully instill a better understanding of peace within the realms.”
There’s a beat of silence, no one quite sure what to make of his offer. Miya speaks first, “I think we should do it.”
Marshal gapes. “You’re crazy.”
“No, crazy would be living in the Guardians' basement forever. It’s another cell.” Miya sighs, glancing over at the men. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Dylan replies. Clinton looks a little bit offended.
Miya continues, “I’m tired of fighting. I know the rest of you are, too, but we don’t know how to do much of anything else but share our knowledge.”
Rupert nods, eyes flickering to life. “Will it have the same library?”
Christensen nods. “With access to the special collections as well.”
“I’m in,” he says without further hesitation.
Armin glances at me and says, “I think I could use a little stability too. A familiar bed to sleep in.”
He’s come a long way from the warrior who slept curled-up on a pallet on the floor.
“Fine,” Marshal says, “But I’m not playing a student this time. No more games.”
“That includes spin the bottle,” I tell him.
He leans over and kisses me on the cheek. “Only with you, Valkyrie.”
“I suppose you’ll need a training instructor?” Agis asks, focused on me.
“Why are you asking me?” I ask.
“You’ll be the headmistress, right? Keep all of us in check?”
I can’t help but smile, especially when no one argues. “I like that idea, and yes, we definitely need a good training instructor.”
He nods, and it’s like I can see the tension lifting from his shoulders.
“We’ll need Darius and Elizabeth,” I say, thinking out loud. The fairy had gone back to her realm, and Darius was with his uncle. “I don’t think it will take much to convince them.”
“Excellent,” Professor Christensen says, rubbing his hands together. “Sounds like we have a plan.”
“No,” I say, looking at each of my Immortals, my friends, and lovers. “We have a destiny.”
Epilogue
From the outside, the Academy looks the same, as if I didn’t see and feel the structure collapse into rubble.
One difference is the blue sky overhead. Oh, and no six-eyed monsters lurk outside the walls. We’re surrounded by a clear blue sea. Protected, but not completely isolated. There’s no apocalypse impending, at least not that we know of.
Another difference is the large statue in the middle of the quad. It’s new and arrived this morning, carved by the hand of a master sculptor. When I first came to the Academy, I’d been fascinated by the mythological battles preserved on canvas, in tapestry, and on murals.
Now I’ve been captured as well.
The central figure is a fierce warrior surrounded by her allies. The God of Death is in the air, scythe in his hand. On the other side is another set of wings, smaller but still fierce; Elizabeth. The artist captured Armin’s intensity, Marshal’s smirk, and Rupert’s intelligence and flowing hair. Miya’s expression is serene, his sword deadly. Behind them all is an expanse of wings and the face of an angel.
“I’m surprised you included me.”
The voice sends a shiver down my spine.
“You were there, every step of the way,” I reply, daring a glance over my shoulder. Luke stands behind me, dressed in an all-black suit, hands tucked in his pockets. His beauty is jarring. “You’re part of the legend.”
“Where are the others?”
“Around.” I turn, facing him head on. “Setting up their classroom or tucked in the library. I suspect a few are down in the training room. Maybe in another hundred years they can prove who’s the best.”
A smile lifts his lip. “You’re probably right.”
My hands itch. I shove them in my own pockets and ask, “What are you doing here?”
He grins again, this time rueful. “Did you know that if you overthrow the King of Hell, you take his place?”
“I did not know that.”
“And that if you become the new King of Hell after instigating the apocalypse and a takeover of other, more peaceful realms, you’re banned from visiting them?”
“I didn’t know that either.” That information answers a lot of questions. “You couldn’t follow us to the Upperworld.”
“No. I wanted to. I planned on it, but the passage was blocked.”
I’m not sure what to say. I’d spent so much time trying to figure out what happened, how Luke really felt, that this new information is unsettling. I go for the obvious. “So you’re a king now?”
“Apparently.”
“What’s that like?”
“Hot.” He laughs. “But I’m working on that.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You can work on that? Making Hell less hot?”
“I’m a Nephilim, no one knows what I can do.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I heard the Academy was reopening and that there was a new Headmistress. I knew I needed to check it—well, her—out.”
“You knew it was me.”
“I suspected. Rumors still reach us in the Lowerworld, and as the Academy is on neutral territory, it’s one of the places I can still visit.”
“I’m glad you came. I’ve been worried about you, and I wanted to thank you for, you know…” Killing your dad, not betraying us, blasting us back to our friends and family. “Doing the right thing.”
“I never wanted to betray you, Hildi. I was loyal from the beginning. My father…if he’d seen even a moment of weakness, he would have slaughtered us before we stepped in that courtroom.”
“I believe you.”
He rocks back on his heels, like he’s trying to hold himself back. I get it. I’m holding myself back, too.
“So, listen,” he says, eyes flicking to the statue, “as King I have the ability to force my minions to do a fair amount of my work in Hell. As you know, the circles kind of run themselves.”
I fight a smile. Gods I hate that place. “I remember.”
“So if you’re looking for another instructor, you know, maybe someone with expertise in espionage or spying, I may have some free time.”
“You want to be an instructor at the Academy?”
“What I want is to be back with you, with the Immortals.” He ventures a step forward. “I want to be a part of this—something good, and righteous. I dream about you every night. I think about you all day. The bond we created, it wasn’t severed when you left. I love you, Hildi Axel.”
His eyes flick over my shoulder. I tilt my head and see my allies—our allies. None look the slightest bit surprised to see Luke. I search their expressions for a sign of hesitation, for any resistance, but none comes. The coil in my belly tightens, linking us all together. What was real in Hell is real here.
“I love—” I don’t get the words out before he’s pulled me in a tight embrace, lips hot against my neck. He spins me around and again I see my men, my Legion, this time grinning bright.
In a lifetime made of one journey after the other, I can sense that this one is going to be one of the better ones. For once, I’m not alone. I have love, family, and a job. I have a home. I have a future. And if we can keep the gods appeased, I have faith it can la
st forever.
Afterword
Thank you for reading Valkyrie’s Sacrifice. If you enjoyed this book make sure you check out the ebook, paperback or audio version of Raven Queen’s Harem. You may also enjoy the Supers of Project 12, a reverse harem superhero series also by Angel Lawson.