Vanir squeezed my shoulders again. “There’s no reason to suspect her. Steven was still alive and running in the woods when her car went off the road.”
“I still need to get the whole story.” Willy’s expression, though friendlier now, still showed doubt. “Start from the beginning.”
Exhaustion hit me like a slam to the head. I leaned my head back as I went over the whole story again, my head resting against Vanir’s stomach. It should have been awkward with his brothers in the room, but I didn’t give a flip what anyone thought. His heart beat strong and I took comfort in the noise.
“Stop badgering the girl, Willy,” Sarah interrupted, running water in the sink. “Can’t you see she’s exhausted? Sheer will is the only thing holding her up.”
“That and Vanir,” Ari said, throwing me a wink.
I liked this brother. He wasn’t much older than Vanir and me—maybe twenty or twenty-one—and he seemed the type who looked for the positive, no matter how bad the circumstances.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I want to help.” So I told them again about being on the road, seeing Vanir and everything else that led up to being in this seat. Everything except what they really needed to hear. Guilt burned inside me, twisting, tearing.
My gaze zeroed in on Sarah. Knowledge shone in her steady stare. She knew we shared seidr. Knew there was more to the story than what I’d given the sheriff—that I’d come here to see the runestone in the national park here. That my family had Scandinavian ancestors and I planned to major in history in college. That part was completely true, anyway.
“Sorry,” Sarah murmured as she cleaned the wound on my head. It stung, but that was nothing compared to how bad I felt emotionally. Between the crash, the run through the woods and finding that poor kid, I could barely pull coherent thoughts together. Vanir’s hands tightened on my shoulders and this time, when the room started to spin, I knew it wasn’t my rune tempus. As the world around me went dark and the floor came up toward my face, I heard Sarah yell, “Crap! Catch her!”
* * *
When next I opened my eyes, I was in a bed in a nearly pitch-dark room. I blinked at the green numbers of a digital clock into focus—2:00 a.m. Every muscle in my body was at full alert and someone had planted a cotton field in my mouth.
As carefully and quietly as possible, I sat up and swung my legs to the side of the bed. The sweatpants bagged over my feet. My head still throbbed; the pounding over my right eyebrow kept me from opening my eyes all the way.
Normally, if I woke up feeling sick, I’d just go back to sleep and hope it was all gone by morning. But I was dying of thirst.
I stood and tripped over the sweatpants that flopped to the floor, then over something on the floor. Luckily the wall broke my fall. The loud thud made me wince. Grumbling under my breath, I waited for the stars to quit blinking behind my eyelids. When I could see again, I found a wolf staring back at me, its eyes glowing faintly in the low light.
Instant trepidation froze my already cold feet to the floor. I turned slowly, stepping back until my spine touched the wall. Earlier I hadn’t been afraid of the wolves, but waking in a strange dark room with one staring at me changed that.
A gust of wind rattled the house, letting loose one of those low, eerie moans.
The wolf’s gaze never wavered, but it tilted its head and a strip of moonlight streaked black gray and white fur. The black nose twitched as the snout wrinkled and I think I sucked all of the air out of the room as I waited for the growl.
I closed my eyes.
The wolf sneezed.
Like that, my fear was gone again. My shoulders slumped. “What are you doing in here?” I whispered. “If someone had told me a week ago that I’d be sleeping in an unfamiliar house with three strange men and two wolves, I would have told them to lay off the crack pipe.”
“We’re not so strange.”
My girlie squeak would have embarrassed me more if the wolf hadn’t stood up and nearly knocked me into the wall again. A lamp clicked on. Hallur sat in a chair in the corner of the room, his big white cast propped up on the footboard of the bed.
“Vanir wanted to stay with you but I didn’t think that was the best idea.”
“Why?” I croaked, my throat desert-dry. I bent over to roll the sweats and nearly squeaked again when I realized the shirt gaped at the neck. I straightened. Doubted he’d look but I wasn’t going to offer up a free peep show, anyway.
Hallur looked a lot nicer without a scowl pulling his black brows together. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with the kind of instant chemistry you and my little brother are showing—and while you’re all beat up and bruised to boot. There are three others here. Easy enough to take shifts to keep an eye on you. Sarah really didn’t want you sleeping yet with your head so messed up, but you took the decision out of her hands. Plus, we didn’t want you to wake alone in a strange room.”
“Three? There’s another brother?”
He shook his head. “Sarah stayed overnight. She didn’t feel right leaving you here alone.” He shifted, but didn’t drop his foot from the end of the bed. “Is there something I can get you?”
They were all so nice. So very, very nice. My guilt over the entire nasty situation crawled up to pound in my chest. “I’ll get it myself. I just need water.”
He pointed to the door I’d assumed went to the closet. “Bathroom is through there—after the closet. You have your own sink. It’s a Jack and Jill plan with Vanir on the other side. You feel okay to walk? You hit the wall pretty hard.”
“I tripped over the wolf.”
“Yeah, funny thing that.” He shifted in his seat—one of those seventies-style, gold recliner chairs—and propped his pillow on the other side, tucked the throw blanket more securely over his shoulder. “Never seen those animals take to anyone like they do Vanir.”
“Well, it’s new to me. Animals usually like my mo—sisters, more.” I could have said my mom. That wouldn’t give anything away. And keeping to the truth as much as possible would help me keep up with the parts that weren’t so honest. Animals really did love my mother. Earth witches seemed to have an affinity with them. Even Coral had the occasional cat following her home.
“How many?”
“Huh?” My own wandering thoughts made me forget where we were in the conversation. Heat crept up my cheeks.
“How many sisters do you have?”
“Two. We’re triplets.” I tried to swallow but it was useless. My mouth was the Sahara. “I’m really thirsty,” I said again.
“I bet. Go on ahead.”
I padded on my bare feet across the wooden floor, feeling the edges of a rug here and there. I was careful not to trip on the ends of the sweatpants that flopped over my feet. Before stepping through the doorway, I looked for the light switch and flipped it on.
Inside was a walk-in closet to die for.
Eyes wide, I took in the mostly empty space with its hanging rods on either side. Only a few winter coats hung on one side and a handful of board games were stacked on the shelves over the racks. I’d always wanted a walk-in closet, but after spending more years in a tent than in a house, any closet was good. This one would cause a knock-down, drag-out with my sisters.
The thought made me smile as I opened the next door and reached for the light switch. I carefully closed both doors so the noise wouldn’t wake Vanir, then leaned over the sink. There was a paper cup dispenser next to the switch. I snatched the bottom cup and filled it with water. The cool liquid was heaven on my tongue and throat. Three of those and I felt a little better—good enough to take a look at myself.
And instantly wished I hadn’t.
I looked even worse than earlier. Still had the road-mapped face and dirty, scraggly spikes of hair, but now I could add dark circles standing out on death-pale skin. I fill
ed one more cup with water.
The door clicked open.
Vanir placed one finger over his lips before pulling me out of the bathroom and into his room. He softly shut the door behind me.
My nose hit the middle of his chest—that nice, wide chest. Now that the rune tempus wasn’t scrambling my brain, I could pay better attention. His white T-shirt was snug and did nothing to hide the muscles I had noticed earlier. He kind of made me feel like the fairy sprite my mom called me. The weird thing was that it didn’t bother me. Well, other than the warm, gooey feeling I had in my gut while standing this close to him.
In fact, I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt more like a girl.
He’d obviously showered because he smelled fantastic. Sort of woodsy, spicy. Plus, his hair, freshly washed and dried, was something to see. I kind of wished we’d stayed in the bathroom light because it looked like the color of ripened wheat I’d seen in Nebraska cornfields. It slid silky and thick around his face. Oh, I wanted to touch. See if it was as soft as it looked.
Then I remembered my own not-so-soft hair and changed my mind. His fingers would stick. On second thought, it was a good thing the room was lit only by moonlight.
He tugged me away from the door. The sweatpants bagged over my feet, threatening to trip me, so I did what I could with my free hand to tug them up. I did not want to let go of his hand. Like in the other room, I felt hardwood beneath my feet, followed by a rug and then wood again. He had a big room with a queen-size bed. I tried not to stare at the bed, with its messy white sheets, and failed.
About a million butterflies sprang to life in my stomach.
Ripping my gaze away, I caught moonlight glittering off a monitor in the corner and I nearly started drooling. I’d give anything to own a computer of my own. Hell, I’d be happy to have a room of my own to put it in.
Near the window, he stopped and lifted my face into the moonlight, his thumb slipping softly over my chin. I held my breath.
“You look better than when you nearly face-planted in the kitchen.” His whisper brushed over my face. My chest tightened as his hair slid forward, throwing some of his face into shadow. But I could feel him looking at me. “Sorry for pulling you out of the bathroom so fast but I didn’t want my brother to figure out I was in there—I wanted to talk to you alone. They’re all nosy. So, do you feel better?”
I started to nod, but the lump on my head reminded me to stop. “Yeah,” I whispered back. “It was nice of your aunt to take care of me.”
“Did Hallur tell you she stayed? She’ll probably want to poke and prod you again in the morning.” He shook his hair back, revealing a grin. “Once, I fell out of a tree and broke my arm. She hung around for days. Then another time I fell out of the tree house—” He cleared his throat. “I liked trees when I was a kid.”
“I did, too! Until this one time when my ru—” I broke off. Crap. I’d ruined the mood.
His smile disappeared. “You were about to talk about that weird thing you did in the bathroom, weren’t you?” He looked away from me, sighed. “I was really pissed earlier, but I decided to talk to you first. What happened?”
I didn’t answer right away because I didn’t know how to. Lying completely would only trip me up in the long run, and besides, I couldn’t bring myself to outright lie to him more than I already had.
“Remember I said I have Norse ancestors?” My mind whizzed over how much to share. He deserved at least some of the truth. “It’s like what you do with your hands...wait, do you know what you’re doing?”
He lifted an eyebrow.
My cheeks warmed. “Yeah, of course you do. Most people don’t really know that magic exists—not unless they have it or know someone who does. You obviously do. So do your brothers and it’s obvious your aunt does. But what do you know about magic?”
“A lot, actually. But I want to hear what that was from you. And don’t give me some story—I’ll know.”
I crossed my arms. “So, what, you think I’m going to lie to you now?” Okay, in a way, I was. But not outright. It was an omission thing and that was a gray area still. I hoped.
He sighed and leaned against the wall next to the window. Moonlight streaked his hair, making it look silvery in the light. “I don’t know what to believe at this point. But your arrival here is kind of strange. Especially with all we have in common with our ancestors. My father was Choctaw and Irish. You look like you have something similar.”
“Arapaho.”
“Most people would be shocked to know about the Vikings who settled so much farther south than everyone thought.”
“My family is from the north. In Minnesota.”
“Really.” He was silent a few moments, frowning the whole time. “Minnesota would explain a few things,” he murmured more to himself. “So tell me about that thing. You really stopped time. How?”
Turning so my face was out of the light, I looked at the shadows on the floor. “My sisters and I have trance magic—seidr magic. We make predictions or in my case reveal useless crap that happened in the past. I say useless because it’s always too late to change anything.”
“I don’t know. Could be useful when you need answers. You and your sisters are like the sisters of fate.”
I nodded. “I know, it’s weird.”
His chuckle eased the tension. “Not so much.”
I thought of the wolves, of his aunt and her mix of medicine and magic...of the strange comfort that seeped through his touch. “I guess not.”
“So what do you think that meant earlier? ‘In violence conceived’?” he asked.
“I have no idea and I’m not sure I want to.”
He was silent a moment, then leaned closer. “Do you think it’s about you?”
“If it is, then it’s about me and my sisters. We’re triplets.”
His teeth sparkled white in the moonlight as he grinned. “You mean there are two more just like you running around out there?”
“Yeah. The only real difference is our hair.” I shrugged. “And our personalities. Coral, the middle sister, is pretty laid-back unless she gets really ticked off. Then watch out. Kat, the youngest, is pretty much the opposite.”
He laughed. “People need to watch out for her all the time unless she’s mad?”
I pursed my lips, lifted my eyebrows, then nodded with an answering smile.
“So where does that put you?”
“I’m the boring, responsible oldest. I don’t have time for moods.”
“Funny.” His tone said he didn’t believe that for a second. But then his expression went flat, his gaze turned serious. “Raven, when I first came into the bathroom downstairs, you looked—” He broke off when there was a muffled crash down the hall. Vanir quickly pulled away from the wall and put his hands on my shoulders. The guy did like to touch. Heat crawled through my gut.
“Hey,” he continued. “I’m sorry your car went into the river. I’m sorry to meet you during all this—the weather, my friend...” He trailed off and I knew he thought of Steven.
“I’m so sorry about that.”
He cut me off, cupped my face again. “I wasn’t done apologizing.”
“Okay,” I whispered, surprised. He had nothing to apologize for.
“I’m sorry you came at such a bad time, but I’m not sorry I met you.”
Any chance at saying something intelligent took flight. I got the feeling he was looking beyond the scratches at my thin face, my overly large eyes—maybe even looking beyond my face altogether to what lay beneath.
I just hoped he missed that black, yawning chasm of guilt.
“You should probably go back before Hallur figures out where you are. You can explain the runes tomorrow.” He let go and stepped back, his words still a breath of sound. “I just needed to see that you were okay a
fter you nearly hit the floor.”
There was a sudden thump, thump, thump in the hallway and I froze. Sheesh, we weren’t doing anything, yet my heart pounded like I’d been caught with my pants down and scorching fire burned my cheeks. The door slammed open.
“I had a feeling.” Shaking his head, Hallur leaned in the doorway, and even in the near-dark I could the sheen of perspiration on his face. “She should be in bed. Her own. I only let her go so she could use the restroom. Did you even give her time to do that?”
Vanir let go of me, crossed his arms. “Didn’t think I’d have much time before you came thumping after her.”
Another dark head popped around the corner as Ari joined Hallur in the hallway. “Did the boy sneak her into his room?”
“The boy?” Vanir growled, and started across the floor.
Hallur laughed. “You’re three years older, Ari. You’re both boys. Go back to bed.”
Ari’s chuckle faded as he complied. Vanir reached his brother and draped one of Hallur’s arms over his shoulders. “Come on, I’ll help you back. Or I can help you to your room and take the next shift.”
“Yeah, right.”
I cleared my throat. “If you guys don’t care, I’m going back through there. I want another glass of water.” And a shower, I was thinking, but that would have to wait.
Hallur nodded, but Vanir’s wink had me grinning back at him before I opened the door. We’d left the light on and one look at my dirt-encrusted hair and scratchy, red face had me shaking my head. I had to have imagined the warmth in his stare.
Had to have.
Chapter Seven
The next morning, the abrupt silence yanked me from a nightmare. I scrambled out of the covers until my back slammed against the headboard. Morning light filled the room and I scanned the corners, sniffed for smoke. Looked for fire. Luckily, I was alone.
It was just a nightmare, I reassured myself. Kat is okay.
Tremors shook my hands and I fisted them in the blue-and-white-striped comforter before burying my face in it. The faint scent of lemon chased away the lingering odor of smoldering hair.
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