by Leia Stone
“That’s your advice?” I bumped his chest with one shoulder. “Deal with it?” I bumped him again, this time harder.
“That. And don’t be a coward.” A wicked glint shone in his eye.
Oh, no he didn’t.
“You humiliate me in front of my entire class.” I placed my palms on his chest and pushed him, hard. “You expose me to some. . . demon monster who you straight up murdered in front of me, you tell me my dead mom is allegedly not dead but just sleeping, and you also tell me I’m some kind of, what, demigod? And you claim there’s a magical weapon with my name on it that I’m supposed to use to defeat some goddess named Night? Come on, you expect me to believe this is true?” I pushed him again. When he didn’t move at all, a new wave of frustration coursed through me. Was the guy literally made of stone?
“Nott,” Tore corrected. “The goddess’ name is Nott. Not Night.”
“Do you think I care what her name is?” I pushed Tore again, and again. Finally, he reached up to wrap long fingers around my wrists. He lowered my hands to my sides with gentle strength and held them there despite what felt like a herculean attempt by me to straight up punch him in the stomach. God, I hate this god. Demigod. Whatever the hell he is.
“You should care about Nott.” Tore kept his voice level, but I could see it took tremendous effort for him not to yell back at me. His nostrils flared with each inhale, and the vein over his jaw pulsed.
“Well, I don’t. And I don’t particularly care about you, or your brand of crazy. Do you seriously expect me to take in all of that information and just deal with it?” My tone could have shattered glass. At a minimum, it should have brought Tore’s roommates out of hiding. But nobody emerged from the kitchen. Maybe the guys were afraid of the screaming match taking place in their living room. They probably figured they couldn’t handle me right now. Good call, boys. I was definitely going into town tomorrow and buying four more cans of pepper spray—one with each of their names on it.
“Yes, that’s my advice.” Tore bent down, so his calm voice spoke into my ear. It was doing weird things to my belly. Knock it off, belly. “That’s my advice because that’s what we do in Asgard. We god up. And the sooner you figure that out, the better.”
“I don’t want to god up.” I tried to pull away from Tore, but he held me close to him. Thick muscles pressed against my chest, sending a heated pulse through my energy centers. The sensation was anything but unpleasant. No, Allie. You do not like this jerk. You don’t.
Said jerk lowered his head so his lips brushed against my ear. “Listen, Pepper.”
“Pepper?” Was he still holding on to the pepper spraying incident?
“Listen, Pepper,” he repeated. “I know what it’s like to want to walk away from all of this. But demis don’t have that option. Take tonight and grieve the loss of your old life, because, believe me, life as you knew it is over. Then in the morning, get up, and start preparing to save this world with the rest of us.”
“Is this your idea of a pep talk?” I asked. “It seriously sucks, and unless you want to have to regrow your man parts, you need to let me go. Now.”
“I don’t do pep talks.” Tore dismissed my threat. “What I do is solve problems. At the moment, Midgard has a demon-sized problem named Nott. Eir’s healing energy is the only thing that can keep Midgard alive, but Eir needs someone to god up and wake her from the Night Sleep. And for reasons I’ll never understand, the Alfödr wants you to do the job. Which means I have to train someone who’s for all intents and purposes a human,” he spat out the word, “to do a god’s job. Or this world, and an indeterminable number of additional light realms, will die.” Tore’s chest tightened again, the muscles across his torso flexing with the movement as he released my wrists. “So, like I said, deal with it.”
“How do I know you guys didn’t make all of this up? That Bodie’s little vision bubble wasn’t some kind of, what did you call it in class, an energy manipulation?”
Tore took another deep breath, so his chest pressed even closer to mine. Even though he had let go of my wrists, neither of us backed away. I stared at the buttons of his fitted grey Henley, totally not appreciating the way they picked up on the grey flecks in his azure eyes. It was a universal joke that the jerks were always the hottest ones. Stupid universe.
“You think I’m manipulating you?” Tore asked. I looked up to find his eyes narrowed in irritation.
“What would you think if you were in my place?” I argued.
I expected Tore’s jaw vein to pulse, or a darkness to cloud his eyes. But instead of anger, sympathy returned. His gaze softened, and the tension in his brow ebbed. The thin lines of his lips became pale pink pillows, and he raked his bottom lip between his teeth in a movement I normally characterized with hesitation. Also, hotness. Tore’s teeth on his lips were all kinds of hot. No, they’re not, Allie. Jerk, remember?
“Allie,” Tore murmured. He shook his head. “You can’t see because you haven’t seen.”
“That makes zero sense,” I pointed out, trying valiantly to cease my lip ogling.
“I understand, now.” Tore spun me gently around. He placed a hand on my lower back and steered me toward the hallway. He grabbed a beanie from the table by the entryway, tucking it into his back pocket as he walked. “We expected you to be okay with something that could never make sense to a human. And we didn’t take into account that in your view, you are a human. Which was part of the plan, but still—”
“Start making sense, buddy, or the re-growing of man parts will commence very, very soon.”
“I’m going to show you, in a way that Bodie couldn’t, exactly what you have to fight for.” Tore opened the front door, pausing at the threshold to stare at me. “And what you have to live for.”
The look in his eyes was half invitation, half challenge, with a dash of hope thrown in for good measure. He was asking my permission, in his extremely convoluted way, and I knew it was the best I was going to get from him.
“Fine.” I stormed onto the porch after him. If I had to meet him halfway, I was doing it on my terms. I called over my shoulder as I stomped. “Mack, Bodie, Johann, apparently, Tore and I will be on the porch.”
“Not exactly.” Tore stepped outside and closed the front door behind him. “We’re going a little further than the porch.”
“Where then, exactly?” I was over the cryptic messaging.
Tore walked down the steps and stood in the clearing. He put his beanie on before extending his hands. With a hearty eye-roll, I made my way to his side.
“Where?” I repeated.
“Allie Rydell.” His expression was deadly serious. “I’m taking you to Asgard.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“WHAT? ARE YOU INSANE?” I backed hurriedly away from what was clearly one loony guy. Said loony reached out to grab my hand. He had me at his side before I’d registered what was happening.
“Heimdall. Open the Bifrost!” he shouted. He scooped me into his arms so I was cradled against a chest that smelled irritatingly sexy. Like sandalwood and winter and guy, all mixed up in one. Yum. No, not yum. He’s crazy.
A fierce wind accompanied the blinding light that shot into the clearing. I blinked against the influx of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple. And my freak-out shot from level eleven to level bajillion.
“Heimdall, take us to Asgard.” Tore stepped into the light, carrying me with him like some insipid damsel in distress.
“You’re crazy! This rainbow isn’t taking us to Asgard. Asgard is a made-up place that exists in textbooks and movies and—oh my God!” My fingers dug into Tore’s beanie as the rainbow sucked us into the sky. The cabin, the trees, and all of Skykomish shrunk to the size of a stamp as we shot through the air. My stomach lurched, threatening to paint Tore’s shirt with the remnants of Mack’s stew. By the time we hit our first cloud, I buried my face against Tore’s neck and commenced hyperventilation. Forget cleansing breaths and grounding, my energy was officia
lly out of my control.
As was, apparently, my life.
A terrifying eternity passed before I felt a jolt. The wind seemed to have stopped, and I no longer felt Tore’s hair slapping against my cheeks. Logic suggested we’d landed wherever magic rainbows land, so I slowly opened one eye and took in the snowy field ringed with silvery pine trees.
“Where the hell are we?” I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Even though it had been night back in Washington, the morning sun had just risen here. My world was majorly upside down.
“We’re in Asgard.” Tore marched forward, holding me tight in his arms.
“Right. Where are we really? Is this like what you did in class, where you hypnotized everybody into reading their books while you humiliated me?” I glared at him.
“I’m your protector, and I did what I had to do to get your attention. And I didn’t hypnotize anyone. I just gave them a different focus.” Tore kept his eyes straight ahead as he carried me across the snowy field. “Heimdall, our gatekeeper, sent the Bifrost and brought us home.”
“This isn’t my home,” I objected. “And you can put me down. I know how to walk.”
“I’ll put you down when we get inside.” Tore reached the edge of the field and moved through a thick grove of trees.
“Inside where?” While Tore marched on in silence, I bit the inside of my cheek to make sure this wasn’t a dream. If I didn’t wake up from the nightmare that was my day right this minute, I might lose it all over him. Again.
“Inside there.” Tore jutted his chin.
I looked to the right, where a small cottage sat nestled against a snowy hillside. Warm light glowed from behind cheerful windows, and a white picket fence lined what I assumed was the edge of the property. The early morning sun cast a beautiful orange glow onto the thatched roof and bright blue shutters of the cottage. As I stared, something stirred in my memory.
“Whose house is that?” I asked. It felt oddly familiar—like someplace I’d been before. Tore finally put me down, and I swayed on my feet. My feelings had begun to overwhelm me.
“You’re intuitive. You tell me.” Tore stood impassively at my side.
“Is that . . .” My necklace vibrated against my throat. No freaking way. I sucked in a breath as a wall of memories slammed into me. Kind eyes and gentle arms rocking me to sleep. An angelic voice singing a lullaby. Bubbles in a tub that tickled tiny toes. And love . . . so much love.
“No,” I whispered. “That’s not possible.”
To his credit, Tore stayed silent. For once.
“Is this my mom’s house? Is this where she raised me before she died?” I blurted. Something had opened up inside my head, revealing memories I never knew I’d forgotten. One second they were gone, and now . . .
“Your mom’s not dead,” Tore corrected me. “Your grandmother told you that so nobody would figure out who you were. She’s only sleeping, remember? And you have the power to wake her. If you just god up, already.”
The next time he said god up, I was punching him in the throat. I blinked up at Tore, the frosty air chilling the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. Stupid tears.
“Please don’t do that.” Tore shifted uncomfortably.
“Do what?” I feigned nonchalance.
Tore used his thumb to wipe the traitorous liquid from the corner of my eye. “That. Your mom’s not gone. And you have the ability to bring her back. That’s what I’m trying to show you.” He lifted my chin with one finger. “You can see for yourself, if you want.”
“How? She’s in a sleeping curse, right?” I was trying super hard not to love the feel of his fingers on my face. Why was he being nice to me all of a sudden?
“Yeah. She is.” Tore nodded at the cottage. “But after the healers stabilized her, your grandmother asked that she be returned to where she was most comfortable. Said it would increase the potency of her healing abilities when the time came.”
“Do you mean . . .” I sucked in a breath.
“Your mom’s in that house.” Tore pulled a key from his pocket. “Want to go inside?”
****
I sat in the chair beside my mother’s bed, just staring out the window. I was processing, thinking. My mom had “died” right around my first birthday, which meant I hadn’t been inside this house in over seventeen years. And yet, its energy sparked memories I’d long forgotten. The woman in this bed was my mother—my mother. She looked exactly like me, only twenty years older. Her long hair spilled over the pillow in a cascade of golden silk. Her nose was slightly upturned, and her full lips were relaxed in an almost-smile, as if sleep brought her peace. I hoped that it did, because even though the evidence of my Night-Sleeping mom pretty conclusively proved that Tore and the boys weren’t lying about my demigod-ness, I wasn’t sure that I could do what they said. They expected me to wake her from a sleep that not even the most skilled gods had managed to hack, to travel across the realms and retrieve broken pieces of a weapon, to kill a goddess. Kill a goddess! That wasn’t me. Sure, I could see energy, so maybe I could be taught to heal like my mom. And yes, I had been known to have a teensy temper, and a trigger-happy pepper spray finger, but that didn’t make me a goddess killer/savior of my home planet. Did it?
My gaze shifted from the window to the woman in the bed beside me. My mother’s energy was beautiful—a crystalline white with threads of purple laced throughout. But it was also troubled. Near her stomach skulked a menacing black blob that reminded me of whatever had risen from that thing Tore killed in the woods. It was dark and pulsing . . . it was alive. I let out a shaky breath and reached over so my hand rested just above my mother’s. My fingers trembled slightly. Lately, touching things had led to my passing out or having visions, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for the family-induced version of either. But it was my mom—I couldn’t not touch her. With another breath, I pushed down my fears, grabbed her hand, and braced myself. Nothing happened—nothing crazy anyway. Only a warm vibration that radiated out of her hand and into mine. The corners of her mouth turned slightly up in a hint of a smile. In that moment, I knew, without a lick of evidence, that she sensed my presence. And she approved of me. I was holding my mom’s hand, and she was smiling, and just for a moment, it was like we’d never been apart. But as much as I wanted to rewrite history and bring my mom’s gentle spirit into the last seventeen years of my life, the fact was that we’d barely known each other for a year before she was stolen from me. Stolen by some power-hungry goddess who wanted to take over my planet. White-hot rage built in my gut as my mind turned over the lifetime of memories I hadn’t been able to share with my mom, all because some chick hellbent on a hostile takeover went on a power trip. My chest tightened, and I exhaled forcefully. Maybe I could kill a goddess after all. Nott had to go.
I released my mom’s hand, so my angry energy wouldn’t filter into hers, and quickly stood. My mind was made up. With one final look back at my mother, I strode from her bedroom and into the living room where Tore stood waiting. His face went through a series of emotions as he watched me storm across the room. When his gaze fell on my clenched fists, his expression settled into concern. For a moment, he seemed like an actual friend and not a jerk, but I was sure the moment would pass quickly. He was probably wondering how many people I was going to pepper spray after this. Not nearly enough.
“Allie?” he questioned. “You okay?”
Not in the slightest. I met his eyes and spoke through gritted teeth. “Teach me how to be a god killer.”
Tore flashed a devastatingly sexy grin. “Now we’re talking.”
There was a light knock on the door, and we both froze. Tore recovered faster than I did. He reached behind his back and pulled a dagger from his belt before stalking across the house like a hungry predator. He yanked the door back, arm raised to stab whomever had knocked. Long hair whipped back and forth as he looked from left to right. He stepped outside, blade still drawn, but instead of murdering someone else, he let out a laug
h.
“Nice, Alfödr.” He chuckled.
Since he was laughing and not stabbing, I stepped forward to peek around his shoulder. Some type of armor lay on a piece of fabric outside my mom’s front door. It was a silver shoulder panel and wrist cuff, bound with brown leather straps and offset with tiny tufts of fur padding and . . . were those crystals embedded in the metal? Something glinted brightly in the early morning sunlight, though it could have been the otherworldly sheen of the armor’s metal. Whatever it was, the effect was exquisite.
“What is that thing?” I was dumbfounded.
Tore reached down like he intended to pick up the armor, but stopped just before he touched it. He righted himself and indicated that I should carry the piece inside. “It’s a gift from the Alfödr—the first piece of your weapon. Wearing it marks the first step to making you the warrior you will need to become to defeat Nott.”
I shook my head. “I’m no warrior.” But I bent to pick up the shiny new package. I was careful not to touch the actual armor—my whole textbook vision experience had scarred me. Instead, I folded the corners of the fabric together and carried the Alfödr’s gift over to the coffee table, knapsack style.
Tore flashed his perfect white teeth in a grin as I set down the armor. “By the time I’m done with you, your soul will be worthy to enter Valhalla.”
“Valhalla, like Odin’s warrior-graveyard-palace Valhalla?” I remembered that much from my class. “I don’t think even you’re that good, Tore. I mean, besides wielding a mean can of pepper spray and sending the occasional knee to the groin, I have zero warrior skills.”
Tore rolled his eyes. “Just touch it, already. You’ll see.”
I reached out hesitantly, but the second my hand touched the armor, a sizzle of energy shot up my arm. It poured into the necklace and surged out again, seemingly amplified. Power coursed through me so quickly that my breath hitched. My heart pounded as this newfound sensation settled into my body. I felt strong—beyond strong. Like lift-a-building-above-my-head, throw-a-car-across-the-parking-lot, amazingly strong. I gripped the two pieces of the armor in my hands, and turned to Tore.