Dark Deceit

by Lauren Dawes

  He felt the first warm rivulets of his blood tracking down his cheek, dropping off his chin. Korvain reigned in his anger before Darrion noticed and swiped the blood away with the back of his hand.

  ‘Laugh again and I won’t miss,’ Darrion warned, his voice lowering, his nostrils flaring with rage. His boss turned back to his original target and threw the last blade. Thunk.

  ‘Alright, so you want a Valkyrie dead. There’s just one little problem.’ That was a fucking understatement. The Valkyries were just like Odin: truly immortal.

  Korvain’s statement was greeted by silence, the fucking cricket-chirping kind of silence. He paused, waiting for Darrion to jump on in and play fill-the-blanks, but that didn’t happen. Korvain pushed on. ‘They’re untouchable. Unless you’ve figured out a way to strip them of their immortality, you’ll never even get close to hurting them.’

  Darrion’s cold blue eyes turned back to him, and the strangest emotion came onto his face. Korvain could have sworn he was actually smiling.

  ‘You’ve found a way?’

  The Mare nodded.

  ‘Why don’t you kill her yourself then?’ Korvain asked.

  ‘I’m asking you to do the job.’

  Korvain started to pace. You didn’t say no to Darrion. You negotiated until you found a figure worth risking your life for. ‘Fifteen,’ he said. Darrion’s eyebrow arched. ‘Take fifteen off my contract and I’ll do it.’

  Korvain only had another seventeen years left of a fifty year term to serve as Darrion’s attack dog, but if he could shave off some of that time, maybe he’d make it through alive. He would be free of the blood tie.

  His boss’s eyes narrowed. ‘Seven.’

  Korvain squeezed his sweat-slicked hands into fists. ‘Twelve.’

  ‘Ten.’

  A pause.

  A deep breath released.

  ‘Ten.’

  Darrion nodded. ‘Your mark is Brynhildr.’

  Bryn was Odin’s first creation, his oldest Valkyrie, his strongest. Korvain’s mind started churning over all the possibilities, the opportunities, the options. ‘How?’

  ‘Have you heard about the Valkyrie’s feather cloaks?’ Korvain shook his head. ‘This information has just come to my attention from a source I don’t trust entirely, but I don’t trust anyone entirely,’ Darrion said mildly. ‘Apparently Valkyries have a feather cloak they must keep in their possession.’ He took a dagger from the holster on his thigh and slumped down into a chair. Picking under his fingernails, he said, ‘Strip the feathers off the cloak and they become mortal again. Strip the feathers and you can kill them.’

  ‘Who told you this?’

  He pinned Korvain with an icy stare. ‘I told you, a source.’

  ‘An untrusted source,’ Korvain reiterated, holding that stare.

  Darrion nodded slightly, his neck muscles twitching infinitesimally. Korvain blew out a frustrated breath. Darrion probably didn’t even trust himself he was so paranoid.

  Korvain said, ‘This is what I’ve understood: get the cloak. Strip the cloak. Kill the Valkyrie. Are we about on the same page here?’

  ‘Yes. Kill her Korvain and I will take ten years off your contract. Fail and I’ll own you for the rest of your unnatural life.’

  Korvain crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. Well, how could a guy say no to that?

  Chapter Three

  Frigg’s body reformed at her house in Charleston, the house her darling husband had bought for her as a peace offering. At her back were her two most trusted Aesirean guards, Tiki and Vali. Seeing Darrion again had left Frigg shaken, uneasy. He was still the best lover she had ever had, even with his mean streak.

  She turned to her men. ‘Leave me.’ The goddess waved them away as she swept upstairs to take a bath. Her handmaiden, Fulla, was waiting in her room. The poor thing was still shaking from her encounter with the Mare.

  The young woman turned her wide eyes to Frigg when she entered. Dropping into a low curtsey, she addressed Frigg as she’d been instructed. ‘My queen?’

  ‘I wish to take a bath. Draw one for me.’

  ‘Yes, my queen.’

  Fulla scurried off, the white gown she wore trailing after her into the bathroom. Frigg walked around her room, touching all the things she found precious to her; her perfume bottles, her cosmetics, her priceless pieces of art. She had been called shallow before, but she saw it as appreciating the finer things in life. Besides, it was Odin’s money that had paid for them all. And that was half the fun.

  The scent of lavender filled the room suddenly, the steam from the hot water spilling out into the bath drifting lazily through the air. Fulla reappeared, her cheeks pink from the heat.

  ‘Do you wish me to help you undress?’

  ‘Of course,’ Frigg replied, moving toward the three-sided dressing mirror in the corner of the room. Fulla trailed after her, her eyes on the ground. Frigg stared at the other woman through the mirror’s reflection.

  ‘You are quiet tonight,’ she murmured.

  Fulla cleared her throat delicately. ‘Yes, my queen.’ Her nimble fingers started in on the silk buttons on the back of Frigg’s sumptuous red gown.

  ‘Why?’

  Fulla looked up, her guileless blue eyes wide. They were the exact color of cornflowers at the height of spring, and Frigg hated her for it. ‘It matters not,’ she mumbled, continuing down the trail of buttons.

  Frigg frowned a little, shrugged and looked back at her glorious reflection. Although the fabric loosened from her body, she could not breathe easily yet. Her corset was still firmly in place.

  With her hand on Fulla’s shoulder, Frigg stepped out of the dress. Beneath the yards of scarlet taffeta were matching silk panties.

  Her handmaiden returned, standing at her back to unlace the blood-red corset. Inch by inch, Frigg could breathe once more. Fulla removed the shell of silk and whalebone over her head and swept it away into Frigg’s closet to join the countless others she had.

  Walking into the bathroom, Frigg’s nipples puckered as her feet hit the cold tiles, the cool hardness rippling through her body. The bath was nearly ready. Stepping out of her panties, she slid one foot into the water to test the temperature before stepping in fully. When she was submerged, Fulla stepped into the room.

  ‘Will you be needing anything else, my queen?’

  Frigg waved the girl away, asking her to shut the door behind her. Silence engulfed the room, swamping Frigg. She closed her eyes with a deep sigh, relaxing into the enamel tub. Water lapped at her chest, tickling her skin.

  Darrion’s eternal hatred of Odin had worked in her favor as she knew it would. Of course there were other things to set in motion, and they would be as soon as her little birds came back with the information she sought.

  Her whole body flushed at the memory of last seeing Darrion. Although she knew he despised the Aesir, she had to have him. She had to know what it was like to lay with a Mare. And he hadn’t disappointed her.

  His love making was more about dominance than tenderness. He had tied her up, stripped her down, made her come. He was the most magnificent lover she had ever had the pleasure of fucking. She shivered, her body remembering the number of orgasms he’d managed to get from her.

  Frigg stayed in the tub until the water cooled. Calling Fulla back in, she got out and had her handmaiden rub fragrant oil into her skin before sliding into a silk robe the exact shade as her eyes.

  ‘Raven has returned,’ Fulla said in a low voice, not meeting Frigg’s eyes.

  ‘He has? Where is he?’

  ‘In your bedchamber, my queen, as you requested when he returned.’

  ‘Good,’ Frigg purred, brushing past the young woman and stepping into her mood-lit bedroom. Raven was sitting on the chaise lounge at the foot of her bed; his arm slung casually along the back of one of the most expensive pieces of furniture in her collection. His hair was longer in the front than at the back, covering most of his violet eyes. His skin was bone-w
hite, his musculature that of an athlete.

  ‘Raven,’ Frigg said, her voice low, tempting. The demi-god lifted his eyes to her, the violet appearing through his fall of black hair.

  ‘My queen.’

  ‘Have you found the location?’

  He nodded, a smile stretching out his mouth and revealing perfectly straight white teeth. ‘I have.’

  ‘Tell me where he is. Tell me where I can find him.’ Frigg had been searching for this place for nearly one hundred years—ever since Odin discarded her love like it was nothing more than cheap rags.

  ‘New Mexico.’

  She could feel the smile curl her upper lip. ‘Fulla! I need a map. Now!’ The handmaiden returned with an atlas, dropping into a low curtsey after giving it to Frigg. Frigg spread the book wide in front of Raven.

  ‘Where in New Mexico?’ she demanded.

  The male’s eyes danced over the country, finally landing on a location near the Texan border. ‘There.’ His finger pointed at a set of mountain ranges hemmed in by arid ground and sparse woods. Frigg leaned in closer. There was only one place where there were accessible caves in that area.

  ‘Carlsbad Caverns,’ she muttered, reading the name beside the dot. Her eyes traced a path from there back to Boston. She smiled to herself.

  Close.

  So close now.

  ‘Fulla, some clothes! Now!’

  The woman rushed to her closet and pulled out a deep blue gown that brought out Frigg’s eyes along with a corset.

  ‘The gown will get ruined. Get me something easier, simpler!’ she snapped, irritated by the stupidity of the girl.

  Fulla blushed, nodded and reappeared with a basic t-shirt, a pair of dark blue jeans and hiking boots. ‘Will this be sufficient, my queen?’ she asked breathlessly.

  ‘Yes, yes, fine. Give them to me.’

  Frigg slipped the robe from her slender shoulders, not caring whether Raven saw her flesh. Time was of the essence. She got dressed quickly, finally placing her feet into the ugly brown leather hiking boots and fading from her house, travelling only a couple of hundred miles at a time. By the time she reached the caverns, the temperature was near freezing.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and headed toward the mouth of the cavern.

  ‘My queen?’

  Frigg turned suddenly. Tiki and Vali were waiting a few feet behind her. ‘Did you follow me?’ she snapped.

  ‘Yes,’ Vali replied.

  ‘We cannot leave you unprotected.’ This came from Tiki. His cool grey eyes were unapologetic.

  ‘Fine.’ She spun around once more, stepping over a shallow railing and onto the cold limestone floor.

  Both men clicked on torches, illuminating the way. As she walked, her two bodyguards remained silent except for the shuffle of their feet on stone. Frigg’s breath puffed out in front of her face, a reminder of just how cold it really was. Walking deeper into the cavern, the hairs at the back of her neck began to prickle.

  But she could not turn back. She was so close. Now that Darrion was in her pocket to remove one obstacle, she needed someone else as a failsafe. She needed to know that if Darrion somehow failed, Odin would still die. And there was only one person in all of the Nine Worlds who had hated Odin more than Darrion and herself combined.

  They walked until her back ached and her calves burned. They walked into the blackness of that cave until she was sure they would end up in another part of the country when they finally made it back out again. They walked until there was a blind corner where the struggles of a god possessed could be heard.

  She had found him.

  She had found Loki.

  * * *

  Korvain had faded to an address in Southie, keeping to the shadows of the house on the opposite side of the street. It was a piece of shit neighborhood, no stranger to the red-and-blues.

  The houses there looked stretched out and stuck together; sometimes there was a little laneway separating them. They were like conjoined twins in a way; identical but wanting their independence all the same.

  The lights of the house he’d been watching finally flicked off, the mark opening the front door and taking the porch steps two at a time. Korvain inhaled deeply, the male’s scent hitting his nostrils. This was the demi-god he was chasing.

  Korvain pulled the shadows closer to his body, wrapping them around himself to muffle his footsteps. Skirting around the light, he approached the car quickly, not allowing the mark to notice the moving shadow. Korvain withdrew the garrotte wire from a small pouch, his fingers wrapping around the metal handles. Korvain stepped onto the pavement just as the demi-god paused and looked over his shoulder.

  The male’s blue eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, trying to peer through Korvain’s shadow-swathed body. Korvain stopped breathing, holding his position. When the demi-god turned back around shaking his head, Korvain struck.

  Using his height advantage, he looped the wire over his mark’s neck and yanked back. With nothing but a thought, Korvain sent the shadows wrapped around his body rushing forward, infesting the other man’s skin and swallowing him from the view of the humans in the houses surrounding them.

  Dragging the demi-god further into the shadows, Korvain drew the inky blackness in closer to ensure the sounds of his death would be muffled, too.

  The demi-god’s fingers snatched at the wire, scrambling to get air back into his lungs. He knocked the back of the male’s knees, dropping him to the ground while Korvain still stood above him. His face remained perfectly impassive as the guy eventually stopped fighting and started going into spasm; his body dying.

  Korvain kneeled beside him, not taking away the strain, watching as the last of the mark’s life drained from his body. Legs kicking, body jerking, the familiar smell of death trickled into his nostrils. He checked his vitals; gurgled sounds drifting from the male’s throat as Korvain released his grip. His blue eyes were now highlighted by red, the blood vessels bursting like fireworks in the whites of his eyes.

  Dying was not pretty. Dying was being stripped bare. Dying was being humiliated as your bowels released. There was no honor in it.

  Korvain lay the body down onto the small patch of lawn and went through his pockets, palming the guy’s keys. He picked up the body and stashed it in the trunk before getting into the driver’s seat and backing out of the driveway. Gods, it had been so long since he’d felt the need to dispose of a body, but this wasn’t an ordered hit. This was a necessity to get the bigger job done.

  Korvain started driving west, getting onto the freeway and heading toward Cutler Park where the body wouldn’t be found for a little while. He pulled in at Millennium Park. Gravel crunched under his boots, and he was comforted by the fact he was the only thing moving for miles.

  Popping open the trunk, Korvain cleared the mark of ID; pocketing his phone and wallet. When he was clean, Korvain wrapped the shadows around them both and started off on one of the paths that would lead to the marsh.

  Chapter Four

  Bryn sat at the bar, her sky-blue and denim eyes drifting from face to face of the humans and gods alike milling around in the bar on the first floor of Odin’s Eye. On the floors above her head, she would have seen the same thing: humans rubbing shoulders with gods—not that the humans would have known that.

  On the second floor was a nightclub, the floor above that, a gentleman’s club. At the base of each set of stairs leading up to the floors above stood two bouncers regulating who came through the doors of each section. The different services The Eye provided meant it was one of the busiest establishments in all of Boston.

  At the front door tonight was Maverick. Normally Bryn would have two bouncers working together, but Mav didn’t like working with anyone, especially not the humans Bryn mainly employed as muscle.

  Bryn took a sip from her glass of 42 Below and stood up to her full six foot two height. A few males close by turned their heads, looking her over from head to toe with an appreciative eye. Her slim body, blue eye
s and plaited blonde hair made her the subject of many males’ wet dreams. She hated that she looked like she did; she simply drew too much attention.

  But that had been the point, once upon a time.

  Ignoring their lust-filled eyes, she strode purposefully through the crowd, emitting a presence to others that made it clear she didn’t want to be engaged in conversation. As the crowds parted, she made her way over to the front door. Mav had stepped aside to let a group of men in, her shrewd eyes looking over each of them in turn. The men were bee-lining to the stairs that would lead up to the upper levels, no doubt heading straight to the third floor.

  Mav’s arm shot out just as the last man trickled through the door. Her palm landed on his chest, hauling him to an abrupt stop.

  ‘Not you,’ she rumbled. Bryn was used to the voice that hid behind the woman’s beautiful face, but the male seemed to cringe back from the sound. Mav was supermodel stunning, but her voice box had been damaged before she became a Valkyrie, marring her throat with thick scars. The result? Her girl didn’t like talking so much.

  Mav’s real name—the name she was given when Odin had given her immortality—was Gunner, and like all Valkyries she had the signature pale skin and golden hair, but Mav’s hair was shaved close to her scalp. Bryn didn’t know the real reason why she’d done it, but if it was meant to scare people away from her, it sure as shit worked.

  Everyone gave Mav a wide berth.

  Everyone.

  Except for Bryn.

  The sword tattoo on the undamaged side of her neck sat starkly against her skin. Like the real blade she could summon, the black steel inked onto her skin seemed to gleam under the lights. It moved with her body, the steel catching images and mirroring them. Bryn’s own tattoo was much the same. The humans stared at it openly, the question whether they could touch it always on the tips of their tongues.