Protector (Night War Saga Book 1)

by Leia Stone

  The look in his eyes let me know he meant business. I glanced over at Mack, but he just glowered menacingly at the door. Clearly, this was not the moment to invoke his educationally sound feminist principles. I’d have to save that battle for another day. Sigh. I unclipped my armor and set it gently on the floor. “Jerk,” I murmured under my breath. I understood that the armor was a beacon, but if night elves were here, I wanted to be able to protect myself. Luck favored the prepared.

  Tore ignored my muttered word, and the boys split up, two at each entrance of the barn. Tore and Bodie took the north side, Mack and Johann the south. I stayed where I was told, behind a pile of mats like the damsel they seemed to think I was. Ugh.

  Tore’s whisper broke through the tension filling the space. “Mack, can you still sense them?”

  Mack nodded from across the barn. “They’re moving up the hill, toward the house.”

  Tore set his jaw. “How many hostiles are there?”

  “I can’t tell.” Mack sniffed the air. “The scent is strong, which means either they sent a team or they sent an assassin.”

  “There are assassin elves?” I hissed. Holy hotcakes, that sucked.

  “There are assassin everythings.” Bodie jumped up to grab the frame of the highest window. He did an easy pull-up so his chin rested on the sill. “I don’t see anything yet. The storm’s kicking back up; hopefully that will interfere with whatever locator they’re using.”

  “Skit,” Johann swore. “What if they have a tracker?”

  “What’s a tracker?” I whispered. What the hell was a locator, too? Clearly, I needed to study more Asgardian books.

  Bodie dropped down from the window. “They’re the most lethal weapon night elves have. Trackers sense energy signatures and out their prey’s location before they can run. It’s nearly impossible to escape them. Tracking’s a pretty uncommon gift—Asgard only has a few gods who can sense signatures. At the moment, Tore’s one of them. Though the weaker Eir gets, the weaker his abilities seem to be on this realm.”

  Fan-freaking-tastic. “Well, I can sense energy signatures, too,” I reminded the guys. “If Tore’s vision shorts out, or Mack’s super sniffer can’t tell us how many dark elves there are, maybe I can help.”

  Tore looked over at me as if seeing me in a new light. Yes, you caveman, I can be useful. He tilted his head, seemingly mulling over my proposition, then gave a tight nod. “You can try. But let me neutralize your energy first. At the moment, you’re like a glowing ‘come and find me’ beacon.”

  “Do what, now?” I blinked. Tore crossed the space between us and held up his hand. A white beam shot from his palm straight at my face, striking me in the sixth energy center—the spot dead between my eyes. “What are you doing? That burns!” I shouted, clutching my face.

  “Be quiet, Allie,” Tore hissed as I rubbed my forehead and glared.

  Tore moved his hand in weird circles around my head. I watched in shock as my energy signature diminished from its normal five-foot radius to a measly twelve inches. Tore had shrunk my freaking bubble. My chest tightened, and I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. That demigod had better be able to fix me later. I felt claustrophobic like this; having my energy compressed made it really hard to breathe.

  Mack sniffed the air again, and raised his sword. “They’re close. About a hundred meters due south.”

  “Skit,” Tore swore. “Here’s the exit plan. Allie, get behind the mats, and do not move unless I tell you to. Mack, when I give the signal, move outside, and circle around to take out the assailants from the south. I’ll strike from the north. Today’s going to be a kill day, so don’t leave any survivors. Bodie and Johann, stay here, and guard Allie. If Mack and I don’t make it back, get her as far from the complex as you can. Then call for the Bifrost.”

  With a curt nod, the boys shifted into position. Bodie and Johann flanked me as panic squeezed my gut. What did Tore mean, if Mack and I don’t make it back? He didn’t really think he was about to die, did he? Did that mean there was a chance I could die? Oh God. I so wasn’t going there. Not unless I had to.

  “Behind the mats, Allie.” Tore pointed with his sword. My legs wouldn’t move, so Bodie helpfully lifted my fear-locked self and deposited me on my mark. The burning in my forehead had ebbed, but it didn’t take any of my anxiety with it. “Okay, you’re clear, Allie. See what you can find out from the hostile’s energy signatures. Fast.”

  “Fifty meters,” Mack cautioned. All four of my protectors crouched into defensive stances. My legs felt shaky, but I held my ground.

  “Okay.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, then reached out with my energy. This exercise wasn’t new to me—I scanned signatures all the time, but usually I was looking for someone I knew, or just taking a general read of the room. I’d only met one dark elf, and I wasn’t familiar enough with their species’ energy to know what I should look for. With another grounding breath, I tried to remember the darkness I’d felt the night of the attack. Then I sent my feelers out, looking for something similar. Not far from the complex, I came across two distinct signatures that were too heavy to be human. Both were unnaturally dense with black energy. Bingo. Trespassers found.

  “There are two of them,” I relayed. “They’re approaching the complex. One’s energy is heavier than the other; it seems like there’s more . . . darkness in him? Is that a thing?”

  “It’s a thing,” Tore confirmed, the crease in his brow deepening.

  “Okay. They’re coming closer. Now they’re . . . huh.” I paused.

  “What? What are they doing?” Bodie urged.

  “They’re slowing down. And their energy is turning red.” Usually red implied anger, but wasn’t that what the blackness meant? An anger/fear/hatred emotional cocktail?

  “Are they still approaching?” Tore gripped his sword in two hands and squared his shoulders so he faced the door. He looked like he was ready to bust through it and kick some night elf butt. It was kind of hot.

  “No, they’ve stopped moving. The redness is taking over the black, and . . . and I’m picking up three additional energy signatures. All black. No,” I paused. “Now they’re red, too.”

  “Mack?” Tore asked.

  The lumberjack sniffed the air. “More dark elves.”

  “Five elves?” Johann swung what looked like a glowing mace at his side. “We’d better get out there and eliminate the threat before they find the complex.”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary.” Tore turned suddenly so he faced the south door. “My signature sense is spotty on Midgard these days, but my sense of death works everywhere.”

  Did he just say his sense of death?

  “Allie, check those signatures again. How many do you feel?” Tore kept a tight grip on his sword.

  I waited while the signatures moved apart and together, their brightness ebbing and flowing as they clashed. “Four. No, three?” I held my breath as the remaining signatures flickered in and out of focus, then finally disappeared. “One.” The word came on a whisper. What had happened to the others?

  “Mack, come with me to finish the last one off. I’m afraid I know what happened. Bodie, Johann, guard our girl.” Tore opened the complex door and glanced around it as Mack crossed to his side, and I tried not to love the way Tore had just said ‘our girl.’

  “It’s clear. Now.” Tore and Mack ran outside, leaving me too shocked to move.

  “You okay, Allie?” Bodie asked.

  “No,” I whispered. This was all kinds of messed up and scary. I wasn’t even one day into my training, and night elves were gunning for us.

  A warm hand covered mine and gave a light squeeze. I looked over and met Bodie’s reassuring eyes. “Trust me,” he said. “The guys will be fine. We’ve taken on way more than one night elf before. The rest of the hunting party is dead.”

  “Dead?” Was that what happened to their energy signatures? Had they disappeared because they . . . died?

  “J
ohann, get out here.” Tore’s voice came from outside. Air whooshed from my lungs—Tore was okay. The lone night elf hadn’t killed him. “Hurry up, Johann. I need you to dispose of these bodies.”

  “On it.” Johann jogged outside to trade spots with Tore. Anger radiated across Tore’s perfect features as he stormed into the complex and shoved a piece of paper at Bodie. “Read this,” he barked.

  Bodie’s torso stiffened as his eyes scanned the paper. “Who sent this?” he asked.

  “One of the Alfödr’s ravens dropped in with it while we were finishing off the last elf.” Tore growled. “This changes things.”

  “What changes things? What’s on that paper?” I grabbed it from Bodie’s hands and tried to read the scribbled markings. “Okay, this isn’t English. Or any alphabet I’ve seen before. What does it say?”

  Fury raged across Tore’s face, darkening the grey-blue of his eyes to an inky shade. “It says there’s a bounty on you, Allie. Now that your general location is known, Nott put a price on your head. Those elves just killed each other trying to get the prize for themselves.”

  I swallowed. “What’s the prize?”

  Tore narrowed his eyes. “Whoever recovers you gets something night elves want more than anything. They get possession of your soul.”

  “My what?” I shrieked.

  Tore chucked his weapon across the room in anger. It expertly stuck into the wall like it was a three-inch throwing star and not a two-foot sword. Then he turned his focus on me. “You’re a demigod, so you’re not going to die of natural causes. You’re immortal, which by Asgardian standards, means you live until someone takes you out. And if that day comes, your physical body will perish, but your soul never dies. It returns to Asgard and rests in Valhalla for eternity.”

  Mack looked over at Tore. “Unless . . .”

  Tore’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Unless a dark god like Nott can trap your soul in a weapon. In that case, whoever holds the weapon also possesses your soul and channels the power of a demigod to use however they want. Including for destruction.”

  “A weapon!” I gasped. “My soul could be turned into a . . .” Hyperventilate in three . . . two . . . one.

  Tore put his hands up. “I won’t let that happen, Allie.”

  Wouldn’t he? His words from the other night suddenly blasted through my brain. Tore had said he didn’t want me around—that he had better things to do than look out for me. All of a sudden he was acting all protective? Had something really changed, or was he just putting on a show for his roommates’ benefit? I blew out a stream of air and purged my frustration onto its source. “What do you care, Tore? You already said you don’t think I need four babysitters. You’re just dying to be done with this and get home, aren’t you?”

  Mack and Bodie winced beside me.

  Tore’s jaw clenched, and he ground out two words. “It’s complicated.” Then he stormed out of the complex. Great.

  Mack and Bodie looked around the room. They appeared to be examining the fine grain of the wood beams on the walls. I sighed. I already knew they wouldn’t explain Tore’s hot and cold moods. Their world—and the apparent inter-planetary guy-code—required they observe a high degree of secrecy. But I wasn’t a guy, and I wasn’t from their world—or I hadn’t been, for a long time, anyway. For a newcomer, dealing with all of this was really hard. I felt out of my element in every possible way.

  And despite the protective vibes coming from the immortals in the room, I felt inconceivably alone.

  “Did you have a chance to look at these weapons, Allie?” Mack’s gentle voice pulled me from my pity-party.

  “No, why? Is Tore going to beat me up with them in training tonight?” My attempt at humor fell flat.

  “Tore doesn’t want to hurt you,” Mack corrected. “He wants to prepare you. And these weapons will give you an edge over even the darkest souls.”

  Bodie crossed to stand beneath the two-dozen different blades, maces, and throwing stars that hung on the wall. “These are the Asgardian weapons. They’re infused with the spirits of the gods.”

  What the actual hell? “Those things have souls trapped inside of them?” Good God, I was never touching one again.

  Mack chuckled. “Not really. The warrior souls that rest in Valhalla make up a collective energy that feeds the swords.”

  That was only slightly less creepy.

  “Right. Dead warrior souls channel their energy into weapons.” Could my life get any weirder?

  “It’s pretty powerful stuff,” Mack said. “The strength contained in these weapons, combined with what you’ll be able to channel through your armor and necklace, will be very difficult to overcome. Even by a dark elf.”

  It was a very sweet pep talk, but nothing could alleviate my anxiety. I had a bounty on my head, and the very real threat of being turned into a deadly weapon for eternity. And not one of the good ones hanging on the complex wall—the bad ones. The ones wielded by night elves. I shuddered. “So, what do we do now?”

  Bodie stepped closer to my side. “We’re going to have to train day and night. We also need to move; head to the safe house we have set up a couple of hours north in Canada. You need to start working with Tore to learn how to turn off your energy signature.”

  My eyes widened. “How am I going to do all of that and go to classes?”

  Mack answered calmly. “You’re going to need to take a semester off school. Once you’re trained, we need to start searching the realms to recover your weapon. The situation with Nott will only escalate now that she knows you have your necklace and your armor. Your mother might be in danger, too.”

  My stomach dropped. Could Nott break back into Asgard and hurt my mom again? I’d need to talk to someone about increasing her security—maybe two of my protectors could swap Allie duty for Mom watch. Surely, two of them would be enough . . . I hoped. And had Mack said I needed to take a semester off? I didn’t want to take time off school—I wasn’t sure how it would affect my scholarship, and college was freaking expensive. But . . . I bit down on my bottom lip with a sigh. It wasn’t like I’d have a college to go back to if Nott drained the planet of its resources and took over with her band of dark minions. There wasn’t much of a decision to be made . . . not that anyone had given me a choice.

  “Okay, I’m in. Just tell me what to do.”

  The boys nodded, and the plan was hatched. I would tell Mallory I had a sudden death in the family and needed to move home for a few months to deal with it. It was perfect timing—with Thanksgiving break, everyone would be away from campus anyway. We would gather my things and head up north to the safe house, where I would train twelve hours a day. And when the guys decided I was ready, we’d head across the realms, hunting for the pieces of my weapon. Awesome welcome to college, Allie. The brochure was right—this is totally the time of your life. Not.

  When we were about to disband, Tore poked his head back into the complex.

  “I need to speak with Allie alone,” he commanded.

  Mack and Bodie shared a tense look. They each gave me a nod as they walked past. Outside, Johann was still burying dead night elf bodies. Oh Lord, what had become of my life?

  Tore stalked into the complex and stood a few feet away from me. Crap. I freaked out on the God of Revenge’s son. He’d definitely returned for payback.

  Tore ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair before pinning me with his icy-blue stare.

  “You shouldn’t have heard me say those things . . . about not wanting to be here . . . I . . . I’m sorry.” The ‘I’m sorry’ part was barely audible. I guessed Tore wasn’t the type who apologized often.

  “Well, thank you. But I did hear those things, and I can’t un-hear them, so . . . I’m not sure where we go from here.”

  Tore’s jaw clenched at my words. The veins in his neck bulged as he stalked toward me. Mr. Not-So-Congeniality was back. “You’re so stubborn. Fine. You want to know why I don’t want to be here?” His wintery scent pressed ag
ainst me as he stepped into my personal space. He was so close, I could feel the heat radiating off his body.

  I stepped even closer, gritting my own teeth. “Yes. Tell me why you can’t stand to be around me. Tell me why trying to help me heal my mom is such a burden for you.”

  His expression softened a little at my words, and his gaze fell to my lips for a brief moment before returning to my eyes. “Because it’s my fault, Allie. Okay? It was my duty to guard your weapon while your mother was in the Night Sleep. I was responsible for keeping it safe until you came of age. And Nott stole it right out from under me. All of this could have been avoided if I had just done my job. But I failed.”

  His admission shocked me. I thought he saw me as weak, or just plain didn’t like me. I hadn’t expected him to say his jerkiness was because of . . . guilt. A guilt he didn’t even need to own. If her night elves were any indication, Nott was a pretty tough chick. It wasn’t a stretch to see her stealing something from anyone she wanted to . . . even Tore.

  “Why do you think this is your fault? Did you give my weapon to Nott willingly?” I tried to see where he was coming from.

  Tore looked like I had thrown acid at him. “Of course not. She put a spell on me—tried to send me into the Night Sleep, too. I put up a blocker when I realized what she was doing, but it was too late. I was lucky I only slept for three days.”

  I shrugged. “Okay, so it was an accident. No big deal. You can’t protect something if you’re in a cursed sleep.”

  Tore looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “You don’t understand, Allie. The plan was to just hand you your weapon when you came of age. Then you’d be able to kill Nott, wake your mother, and the two of you could stop Midgard from dying. Now we have to trek through eight realms to track down the pieces, bind them back into one useable weapon, and hope the re-attached pieces still wield enough power to kill the night goddess, all without getting you killed in the process. I can’t even look at you without feeling this all-consuming guilt. This. Is. All. My. Fault.”

  With each word, he leaned closer to me until I could feel his breath on my face. When he licked his lips, everything he’d said scrambled in my brain, so the only things I remembered were (a) Tore was a jerk because he felt guilty, not because he was for some reason repelled by me, and (b) vulnerable Tore was really, really hot. My gaze landed on his pillowy lips, and as I stared, Tore slowly lifted his hand. It stilled in the air, just inches from my face.