Gotcha. “Mom, we have to go.”
“Go? Go where?” she asked as I stood up and urged her to her feet. She was wearing some sort of silk amber-colored lounging pajamas, but I couldn’t wait to collect her things. “Fran, what do you think you’re doing? Stop pushing me!”
Can you do the mind thing on her?
Not on mortals, no.
That’s a shame. “We have to get out of here. There’s . . . uh . . . a terrorist attack going to happen,” I improvised.
“Terrorists!”
“Yeah. Really nasty ones with bombs. We have to scoot now.”
She argued with us all the way up the stairs, managing to stop us at the top. “Francesca Marie! I insist that you stop this! Before I go another single step, I want him to leave. I don’t trust him, and I know he’s behind all of your strange notions.” She pointed at Ben.
I sighed. “You’d better learn to trust him, because I’m really and truly his Beloved now.”
She gasped. “You didn’t—”
“Yes, I Joined with him. We’re bound together for eternity now, Mom. I love him with every ounce of my being, and none of the things I see you are about to say are going to change that. Now can we please leave? You can yell at both of us later, once we’re out of here.”
“Oh, Fran,” she said, disappointment dripping from her voice as she shook her head at me. “I’ve lost you. I’ve truly lost you.”
“Oh, for the love of the goddess . . . Vikingahärta! Do something!”
I had no idea what it was I expected it to do, but the second I lifted it, Mom gave a little sigh and slumped toward the floor. Ben caught her before she hit it.
“Bullfrogs! Is she okay?” I asked, reaching for her pulse.
“Yes. Just unconscious.” His lips quirked. “I’d say it’s for the best, but I doubt if you’d see it that way.”
“On the contrary, it’s exactly what we need. Can you carry her?”
He hefted her limp form in his arms, starting toward the front door. Ulfur stood at it, watching us with his eerily black eyes.
“Move, please, Ulfur,” I said, trying to open the door for Ben. Oh, goddess! How are we going to get her out of here on your bike?
I’ll hold her. You drive.
I didn’t like the idea much, but didn’t see any other answer to the situation. “Ulfur, move.”
“He’s not here,” Ulfur said in a loud voice, then looked over his shoulder at the door.
“Huh?”
“The master.” Ulfur held my gaze. “He’s not here.” He turned and looked at the door again.
What . . . ?
He’s telling us something, Beloved.
“Great. Just great. How are we going to get out of here if de Marco is lurking outside just waiting for us to leave?”
“We are going to have to face him.” He set Mom down onto a wooden bench next to the door, pausing for a second before adding, “You will need to guard her.”
“I will, but don’t for one minute think I have forgotten the fact that de Marco wants you for his experiments. I’m not going to let you take him on by yourself.”
Ben grinned as he opened the door. “I won’t be alone.”
A blast of noise hit us, my jaw dropping as I looked in astonishment at the sight of the battle that was going on in the courtyard. It was as if an all-out war had broken out at a zoo—wolves in every sort of color were pouring into the courtyard, attacking anything that moved.
“Are those real wolves or therion wolves?”
“Feral therions.”
“Holy jumping saints! It’s Eirik and the Vikings! And lions! And . . . is that the parade?”
“Goddess! Dark One!” Eirik, covered in blood and grinning madly, stopped hacking a gray blob on the ground. “We are here! Just in time for the battle, yes? You wish a sword, Dark One?”
“If you have one to spare,” Ben said, and to Inner Fran’s secret delight, Ben took up the bloody sword Eirik tossed him.
“If you get hurt using that—” I started to say, but at that moment, Ben leaped forward when a brown and gray wolf, spotting us in the doorway, lunged at me.
I love you too, Beloved.
“Goddess! It’s a good thing we bought you a beheading ax in town,” Isleif said, panting as he stopped before me, brandishing a small camping ax. “The Dark One said you would need it.”
I took the ax he shoved in my hands. “Ben said that? When did he say that?”
“This evening, while you were having your supper. He sent us on ahead to get our weapons and lay in wait for the evil one to show.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” I thought you didn’t want an all-out attack force?
I didn’t, but felt it would be wise to have one in reserve, should they become necessary. I believe this qualifies as necessary.
Yeah, well, you could have told me that. I’m going to have a few things to say to you once this is over, buster.
Stop talking to your Vikings and protect your mother.
I knew full well that what he really meant was to stay out of harm’s way, but since someone did have to keep an eye on Mom, I decided it wasn’t worth arguing about. Besides, I had to admit that the sight of Ben in black jeans and a plum-colored shirt battling what appeared to be ravaging wolves was a sight to make any woman melt with girlish admiration. Four members of David’s pride were also in full attack mode, their roars and snarls as they fought the wolves adding to the general sense of chaos. But it was when the first of the parade floats came level to the circular drive of de Marco’s house that things really got weird.
The float was supposed to depict some sort of scene on a river, with girls in scanty mermaid costumes bearing gold tridents, perched on papier-mâché rocks around a glittery river made up of sparkly blue sequins. A man with a huge sword and horned helm stood at the top of a waterfall that consisted of streamers of blue and white crepe paper. A sign made out of painted violet pebbles spelled out “San Francisco Queer Opera Co. Supports Brustwarze.” As they started past the drive, one of the mermaids pointed and yelled in a deep bass voice, “Look, girls! PR opportunity! Let’s join the fun!”
“Someone get the digital camcorder! We’ll be the hit of YouTube!” another mermaid yelled, and in a couple of seconds all eight of the hairy-chested mermaids clambered off the float and had joined the fray, yelling and shouting happily to one another, walloping both wolves and lions indiscriminately with their tridents, as all the while the helmed guy stood on his float stomping his feet and screaming for them to come back and not leave him alone.
Do you see de Marco anywhere? Ben asked me, distracting me from the dazzling sight of the attacking mermaids.
No. Are we sure he’s here? Watch out!
Ben ducked as a wolf leaped over the back of what looked like David, almost knocking Ben down at the same time. Your lich friend said he was.
Ulfur! I turned from where I was guarding the door and confronted him. “Ulfur, where’s your boss?”
He said nothing, his eyes sad.
“Please, Ulfur. I know that he’s put some sort of compulsion on you not to tell us anything, but this is important. He’s done something to my mom and I have to know what, so I can reverse it. Please tell me.”
Ulfur shook his head.
“Please, Ulfur. Please help me. I swear to you that we will do our best to get you released from him, but in order to do that, you have to help us now.”
He shuddered, closing his eyes for a second, his face twisted in agony as he pointed to the left. “Chapel.”
“Thank you.” Impulsively, I leaned forward to hug him. “Thank you. Isleif! Come and guard my mother!”
“Goddess?”
Isleif paused in the act of hacking off the head of a dead therion in wolf form. I yelled for Eirik and Finnvid, likewise in the heat of the battle, and then sent out a call to Ben. Ulfur says he’s in the chapel. That must be the creepy building that the gargoyles sprout from.
Francesca! You mus
t stay with your mother!
Isleif is with her. Hurry up! I need you!
Ben muttered to himself as he fought his way over to me, his sword flashing silver and red in the light from the windows.
I can hear that, you know! And you aren’t going to have a next Beloved, so just buck up and come help me get a little payback before David finds out where de Marco is.
The four of us raced around the side of the stone building that had evidently been added on to the main house at a later date, since the stone was a darker color. Several wolfy therions followed us, but Ben and the Vikings took care of them quickly. I couldn’t bring myself to harm them, knowing that even though they were happily trying to kill us, somewhere in their furry form, a human being resided.
They aren’t human anymore, Beloved. Their minds are now in de Marco’s control.
All that much more payback he has coming to him, then.
Agreed.
Ben and Eirik broke down the door to the chapel. The darkness inside was lit only by candles, the flames of which jumped and danced with the swirl of air as we rushed in. At the far end, a man stood with a familiar-looking woman.
“Naomi,” I said, clutching the Vikingahärta in one hand and my axe in the other. “Why am I not surprised.”
She spat out something I took to be not at all complimentary. De Marco spun around, his face black with anger.
“You have interfered with me for the last time!” he bellowed, his voice making dust fall from the chapel rafters. He lifted his hand just as Ben jumped forward to protect me, but it wasn’t de Marco that worried me. Naomi, her eyes spitting fury, stood silent and still for a moment, obviously gathering power. A silvery white glow formed between her hands, and I knew without a single doubt in my mind that she was going to blast Ben with it, completely destroying him.
I couldn’t live without him. Not now. Not ever, really. I might have fooled myself into thinking I could, but I knew now that our lives were too tightly bound to ever be separated.
I don’t remember moving at all. One minute I was at the door with Eirik and Finnvid; the next I threw myself forward, knocking Ben aside, but leaving myself standing where he had been. Naomi shrieked and the silver light pulsed forward, slamming into me with a force that sent me flying backward six feet into the chapel wall.
Ben called out my name, but as the light enveloped me, I was content I’d saved him.
Chapter 23
“How is she?”
Quietly, I closed the door to my mother’s bedroom and turned to face the people crowded into her trailer. Ben was nearest the door, his mere presence bringing me joy and comfort and love in a way that I had never imagined.
Beyond him, Imogen and Finnvid sat, Imogen’s face puckered with worry. Finnvid was eating sardines, occasionally offering a bit to Davide, whom Tallulah had brought back to comfort my mother. To my surprise, Davide seemed to have no issue with the Viking. Perhaps it was the sardines.
“She’s sleeping.”
“Is she still confused?” Tallulah asked, sitting at the table with Peter. Beyond them, Kurt, Karl, and Absinthe hovered around the tiny kitchen area, obviously handing out cups of coffee and tea. Eirik sat on the sink, while Isleif lounged in the chair opposite Tallulah.
“Yes. She doesn’t understand why I’ve made her come home early from Heidelberg, nor does she seem to be aware of de Marco. When I ask her about him, she keeps telling me that’s in the past, and best not mentioned. So who, exactly, is she in love with?”
“We won’t know until she can tell us,” Ben pointed out.
“She will be better in time,” Imogen said, squeezing my hand. “The glamour will fade now that the Ilargi does not have her in his thrall.”
“I hope so.” I slumped tiredly against the door, my hand automatically seeking out Ben’s, smiling at him when he pulled me down onto his lap, kissing the side of my neck. “I don’t know what else I can do.”
“Maybe there’s a way I can help.”
I looked up to see who spoke, not recognizing the voice, and for the umpteenth time in the last week, stared in complete surprise. Kurt, Karl, and Absinthe moved aside to let a woman pass. She was tall, like me, but not so sturdily built. Her hair was also dark and short like mine, but where I had gone for a carefree style, hers was pure urchin. She had big brown eyes, a heart-shaped face, and a hesitant smile, as if she wasn’t sure of a welcome.
“Fran, right? Or do you prefer Francesca? Your Dark One said the latter, but it’s kind of a mouthful, isn’t it?”
“Petra,” I said, goose bumps running up and down my arms.
We stared at each other for a minute; then Ben gave me a little push. And in the next second, we were hugging and laughing and even crying a little.
It took us a little time to calm down, but once Petra had gone in to sit with Mom for a few minutes, the others had left.
“All will be well now,” Imogen said as she hugged me at the door. Ben stood to the side since the sun was starting to come up, sending rosy tendrils of light snaking across the floor. “I’m so happy, Fran, I can’t begin to tell you. You and Benedikt are finally truly together, and he has his soul back, and now I can stop worrying about you both because I know you will be so happy together.”
I glanced at Ben, too tired to feel surprise anymore. “You have your soul back? When did that happen?”
“You sacrificed yourself for him,” Imogen answered before he could. “It is that act which redeems the soul. Didn’t Benedikt tell you?”
“No,” I said, just enjoying the sight of him. He was so handsome he took my breath away, but it was more than just the pretty package that made my soul sing—it was the Ben inside who completed me and made me more than I was when I’d started out. “No, he didn’t.”
You’re going to yell at me about that later, aren’t you?
Oh, yes.
“How are you doing?” I asked Imogen, concerned by Ben’s comment that she was vulnerable. “Have you heard from Günter?”
Her expression darkened. “No, and I must admit I’m concerned about his welfare, despite Benedikt’s assertion that he was only using me to get at the Vikingahärta.”
Ben snorted. “Why else would he disappear the moment Francesca appeared?”
“Regardless of that, I’m sorry you lost him,” I told her.
She smiled, blushing a little. “Don’t be too sorry on my behalf. Finnvid has been most attentive in consoling me.”
“About him—” Ben started to say.
“Another time,” I interrupted.
He hrrmphed in my head.
“I can’t wait for you to have daughters, so you can worry about them for a change,” Imogen told him, then turned back to me with an exclamation. “You were busy with your new sister, so Eirik wished for me to tell you that he and Isleif have gone into town to search for someone named Nori. Evidently they caught sight of him earlier today.”
“Again? I wish I knew what Loki’s son is doing in Brustwarze. I wonder if he was who Mom . . . hmmm.”
“Who knows? I will be by later to sit with Miranda,” Imogen said with a kiss to each of us.
I closed the door, thought about lecturing Ben, and decided to take a different tactic.
“What was that for?” he asked when I was finished mapping the inside of his mouth.
“You have your soul back. I’m happy for you, Ben.”
Petra came out of my mother’s room at that moment, her eyes red. “I never knew. I just never knew she was alive.” She sat down at the table as if her legs were about to give out. “Of course, now I’m going to have to see this man you say is my father. He’s in town here, isn’t he? Can you give me his address?”
I sat in a slump at the table, Ben making a more graceful appearance. I was too tired to care. I leaned against him, my fingers twined through his as they rested on his thigh.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Ben said, pain lancing him. “The house is destroyed.”
&nbs
p; “Destroyed? How? Why? When?”
Ben briefly told her about our evening’s activities at de Marco’s house.
“The light, or whatever it is that Naomi blasted me with, set the chapel on fire. Although the exterior of it and the house itself were made of stone, the interiors were wood, and the whole thing went up in a blaze. I only vaguely remember it because I was a little rummy from the blast, but luckily the Vikingahärta took the brunt of most of it, saving both Ben and me from annihilation.”
“What’s a Vikingahärta?” she asked, her eyes huge.
I pulled from my pocket three twisted metal bits. “This is all that remains of it. I just hope to the skies that Loki never finds out about it. As it is, I’m going to have to explain to Freya that I’m now helpless against him, and won’t be able to banish him like she and Frigga expected.”
“That’s sad,” she said, prodding one of the broken triangles with the tip of a finger. “And de Marco? What happened to him and the woman who attacked you?”
Ben’s fingers tightened.
I know it looks bad, my love, but you have to think positive. We will save him.
“Both disappeared in the confusion of the fire,” Ben answered in a flat voice that said so much about his emotions. “As did David.”
“Your therion brother?” She frowned. “Was he burned in the fire?”
“No.” Ben’s jaw tightened. “De Marco took him.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “If there’s anything I can do . . . I know we just met, and things are a bit weird and all, but . . . well, I guess we’re family now.”
“Yes, we are.”
Ben’s grief and guilt swamped me. Petra must have sensed it, because after a few more minutes of questions about recent events, she excused herself, saying she had a room in town, and would be back later that day to see if Mom had woken up.
“Assuming I’m able to sleep, that is,” she added as she collected her purse. “There was some sort of celebration going on when I checked in, with fireworks and people in the most amazing costumes dancing in the street. I gather the town won some sort of a civic award?”
“Something like that, yes.” I saw her to the door, then returned to sit with Ben, wrapping my arms around him.
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