Norns of Fate: A New Adult Urban Fantasy Novel (Descendants of Thor Trilogy Book Two)

by S. A. Ashdown

  ‘He dropped by earlier. He said he had plans tonight.’

  ‘Which are?’

  I shrugged. ‘Sultry, steamy sex, followed by a climb up Mount Everest. I don’t know, I’m not his secretary.’

  ‘Malachi wants him.’

  I turned away from Menelaus, who was wisely standing very still, and leaned over Penny. Frigg’s vision showed us kissing. Penny waited, expectant, eyes widened by sphinx-like mascara. ‘You’re not his lap dog, Penny,’ I said, touching her arm. ‘You’re better than that.’

  She stepped forward. Her hair, high up in an elaborate French braid, nearly brushed my shoulder. She tucked a few stray curls behind my ear, pushing up to tiptoes. ‘I know you think you’re smarter than me,’ she whispered, her breath icy against my neck. ‘You’re protecting Lorenzo; you’re neglecting the coven.’ Her lips tickled my earlobe. ‘Careful not to betray me, as well. The last man who did that… You remember Hecate’s throne of bones, don’t you? They come from somewhere.’ She stroked my hair as she pulled away. ‘Hecate is yet to weave the final strands of your gift, Theo. I asked her to wait. She’s more patient than me.’

  The temperature of the church seemed to drop. Penny walked away, the door swinging shut on her way out. I eyed the bell tower where Raphael and Lorenzo remained safe behind my wards, thankful Penny didn’t try to look in there.

  ‘She’s sort of sexy in an utterly terrifying way,’ said Menelaus. His voice, louder than expected, startled me.

  ‘What is it with you trying to steal my women? First my childhood sweetheart, now my priestess?’ I admit, his dating Ava was still a sore point. He faded back into the room, solid and more imposing than ever.

  ‘Ava’s the clairvoyant, not me. How was I supposed to know she was your long-lost love? She chose you anyway.’

  I thought about her, with Lolita and Fenrir, back in the attic. ‘I’m sure she’s chuffed,’ I said. ‘Who wouldn’t want to be involved in the insanity I call my life?’

  He gave me a peculiar look, like I’d sprouted another head. ‘Sure, what girl wouldn’t fancy a Viking warlock coven-leader with inexplicable magical powers pitted against an all-powerful corrupt organisation?’

  Lorenzo’s raspy voice came from the tower door, his head poking out. ‘He’s got you there, Theo. Oh, and ta for the alibi.’ He dipped his head back inside the tower before I could reply.

  ‘I better return to Ava,’ I said, a bit awkward about the compliment. ‘Do you want to meet your father?’

  ‘No, not tonight.’ The colour bled from his face. ‘I need to process it first. Can you give me a lift home? My car is still at the Red Hawk and I’m way over the limit.’

  ‘Sure,’ I said. We left the church as I patted my various pockets. ‘I can’t find my keys.’

  The space where I’d left the car was empty. ‘Penny,’ I cursed, ‘failed to mention her pick-pocketing skills. Flaming witch.’ I fished out my phone. ‘I guess it is her car. I’ll call you a taxi, okay?’

  Menelaus yawned. ‘Yeah. I’ll wait up the road. Night, Theo, and thanks.’

  After I ordered him a taxi I caught up with him. ‘I’m naming you as my Guardian. Michele and I will contact you in the morning.’

  ‘You mean my father,’ he said, walking away into the night.

  23

  Dancing with Stardust

  Lorenzo’s shaking didn’t stop with the tremors rippling underneath St. Michael’s church. After their initial greeting, he and Raphael had occupied different corners of the tower, but the glitter he shed added a golden sheen to the plants he touched, and over Lorenzo’s clothes. At least he had that, when Raphael retreated. He rubbed it between his fingers, and as he did with everything now, lifted it to his nose. It’s like fairy dust, he thought. Not that he’d seen any before.

  ‘’Ere, why do you leave this gold dust behind you?’ he asked, directing his voice to the patch of ivy Raphael was sheltering behind. Boyfriend, he thought, boy friend. Those terms were both true and wrong. ‘Is it because you’re so rare?’

  ‘Gold dust is not rare if one knows where to look.’ His face peeped through the ivy. ‘Why can you see it?’

  ‘I asked you first,’ said Lorenzo.

  ‘I am living stardust, vampire.’

  What does that mean? He stood up and jumped on the stone bench where he’d been sitting, then leaped off the other side. It triggered a flashback to his first date with Jean-Ashley in Oakley Park, showing off by walking out onto the frozen lake. He wasn’t quite as graceful then, lanky and awkward and…human. ‘Aren’t we all stardust? You know, originally?’

  That blush setting off the ivy. It made Lorenzo’s stomach growl and his throat burn. Delicious as peaches and cream. Longing and hunger. He swivelled round to face the door so Raphael wouldn’t see his eyes deepen. Abyss black. He could feel it, his vision sharpening.

  ‘Once upon a time, yes.’

  Lorenzo prodded his teeth as if to warn his fangs to stay put. All those hazy memories. Self-trust was once a given. If he lost control, if Raphael was forced to flee, to leave the safety of the tower, and something happened…

  ‘Why don’t you come out of there?’ he asked. ‘If we’re stuck ’ere, we might as well have some fun.’

  The ivy rustled as Raphael wriggled out. Such a slight thing, so alluring how he moved, almost floating. At once, a group of birds dived into the tower, thwarted by Theo’s wards. They perched on the invisible roof halfway down, twittering and tweeting incessantly. ‘Stop bickering, children,’ Raphael called, hands clasped behind his back. A few stray twigs littered his hair. Lorenzo crept closer while the boy watched the birds, and picked out the debris.

  ‘That feels nice,’ said Raphael. It had become their guide, what felt nice, what was too much. Raphael closed his eyes, pursed his lips, mimicking the birdsong: accurate, supernal. The chattering on the invisible roof quelled, like the arguments of infants when the parent returns. ‘They don’t like being parted from me,’ he said, ‘or that I’m accompanied by a vampire.’

  ‘You’re accompanied by Lorenzo Angelucci, not a vampire. There’s a human in me somewhere.’ Raphael tilted his head away. ‘What makes you think I’m still killing?’

  ‘Your aura,’ said Raphael, tiptoeing over to the water feature, cobbled together from old pottery, ‘tells its own tale.’ His mouth twisted. ‘When you absorb the Vital Essence of another, it leaves an imprint.’

  It wasn’t likely, that after millennia on Earth, the boy was wrong. And there was Grace, her admonishment of him. Did last night really mean nothing to you? It meant nothing; it hadn’t even registered. ‘I’ve been unfaithful,’ he said, immediately regretting it.

  The boy’s expression crunched.

  ‘I think so anyway. Some nights I wake up with no memory.’ He sat on the ledge surrounding the little pool. ‘Fed. Blood on my clothes, under my nails. Grace told me I saw her last night. She was angry with me. I don’t remember. Why don’t I remember, Raphael? What’s happening to me?’ He grasped the pouring water, unable to contain it as it flowed through his hand. Life felt like that too, sometimes.

  ‘That is the truth?’

  Lorenzo blinked. ‘I wouldn’t lie about this. Not to you.’

  ‘I have never concerned myself with vampires before. Perhaps it is normal.’

  ‘I’m your first vampire, eh?’ He swirled his fingers in the water, brushing against Raphael’s, who echoed his motion. ‘If I stay ‘ere with you, nothing can get me either.’

  The boy smiled.

  ‘Do you dance?’

  Raphael sprang to his feet, twirling in the courtyard. ‘Always. Everything in the universe dances. It is the purest expression of life.’

  ‘Have you ever danced with a person?’

  ‘No.’ Raphael paused. ‘Well, once, long ago, but I guess you’d call them fairies.’

  ‘Elves trump fairies, right? Even the dark ones.’ Lorenzo dried his hands on his shirt, and tugged his phone out of his back pocket. ‘
I heard this somewhere,’ he said, ‘and I thought about you.’

  ‘What is it?’ asked Raphael, as the song filled the air. The speakers were rubbish, but it was better than nothing.

  ‘Okay, so it’s one of my mum’s favourite songs. Dance Me to the End of Love,’ he said, ‘Madeleine Peryoux.’ He held out his hand for Raphael.

  They glided around the small tower, hopping over the little fountain, skirting the pot plants in the corners. Raphael laughed, the birds stuttering their own chorus, excited by his happiness. Once or twice, the boy became wispy, like he was about to float away. Lorenzo clutched him close when that happened. While the music filled the tower, his problems melted like burning wax. Worries belonged outside, away from this sprite. Whatever he is, it doesn’t matter. Why should we be defined by what we are? Who makes those rules, anyway?

  He wouldn’t call it love, not yet. Desire, hunger, attraction, curiosity. He didn’t understand Raphael like he’d understood Jean-Ashley. They had no history.

  And yet, they fit together somehow.

  24

  The Prodigal Sons

  I slept like a log that night, Ava tucked in bed beside me, up in the attic. Unfortunately, Lolita slept on the small sofa in the corner, deciding against taking the spare room downstairs; a house filled with witches and vampires didn’t inspire much confidence. Not that Ava and I were feeling amorous – we were all pretty hollowed out.

  Fenrir slept curled up on the beanbags. I would have snoozed all day if he hadn’t jumped on the bed and licked my face until I stumbled out of the covers and took him downstairs for a wee. Apparently, he’d been house-trained. The house was quiet, although someone had made coffee. Probably Carlotta – it smelt like the kind that would stop your heart and restart it again on the second mouthful.

  A mug later I’d lost count of the cardiac arrests, but I was wide awake by the time I’d spooned out a can of dog food – I’d filched it yesterday after popping back to Ava’s house to feed her Westie – into a bowl. Fenrir demolished it and jammed his meaty nose into my palm.

  ‘It’s Saturday already,’ I said to him, ‘the last weekend before the trial, and here I am, feeding a stray dog. Doesn’t feel like ten days since I left home, more like a month.’ He trailed me around the kitchen as I poured out coffee for Ava and Lolita and plonked it on a tray. The Donne di Fuori flittered around my face, but I couldn’t understand their windy mutterings.

  Michele appeared in the doorway. ‘I smell him,’ he said.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘My son. You’ve seen him.’

  I picked up the tray. ‘Yeah,’ I said, walking towards him, ‘he knows who you are. I gave him his powers back.’

  Michele refused to budge from the doorframe. ‘Does he want to see me?’

  ‘Who am I talking to? Cold-hearted vampire lawyer or heartbroken father?’

  He ground his jaw, teeth gritting together. Even at this time in the morning he was fully dressed, his shirt freshly pressed and crisp. I sighed. ‘He needs time. He’s very confused. But you’ll get to see him today.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes, as my cold-hearted vampire lawyer, I need to arrange a meeting at the Praetoriani. We’re naming Menelaus as my Guardian, today. There’s no time to lose.’

  He stepped out of my way. ‘I’m glad you’re taking this seriously, at last,’ Michele said. I carried the tray up the first few steps, Fenrir trotting behind, ready to leave Michele to make the arrangements. ‘Be ready to leave by ten o’clock,’ he added.

  I halted, one foot on the step above. ‘Oh, and Michele, take it from a son whose estranged from his father; don’t be cold or suspicious when you meet Menelaus. Show him how happy you are that he’s alive. You’re not a vampire and he’s not a dhampir – you’re a father and he’s your son, okay?’

  Michele folded his arms. ‘I don’t take advice from fledglings.’

  ‘Children are remarkably insightful.’

  I turned away.

  ‘But thank you, Mr Clemensen, for trying.’ I looked back but he was gone.

  Ava was still asleep, but Lolita was awake and dressed. She downed her coffee, banged her chest, and smoothed out her hair with Ava’s brush. ‘I’m going home with Ava.’ She gestured to the bed. ‘She needs rest. Look at her – she’s a corpse.’

  ‘She’s safer here,’ I said, ‘because of the wards.’

  Lolita pursed her lips. ‘Didn’t you tell me your father kept you locked away in Hellingstead Hall for all those years because it was safer?’

  I crossed my arms. ‘Are we in a Mexican standoff?’ Lolita widened her stance, ever so slightly. Mind you, she was so tiny it hardly made any difference. ‘I’m doing my best, Lolita, I really am. I can give you your memories back—’

  ‘No, I don’t want anyone messing about with my head, not again. I’d rather forget what I’ve lost.’

  ‘You mean my mother,’ I said.

  ‘Theo…’ She sighed. ‘Keeping Ava here is selfish. She needs rest. Quiet. Not vampires and witches and,’ she said, gesturing at me, ‘warlocks. God, I can’t believe I said that.’

  ‘Ava can make up her own mind, as she’s so fond of telling me.’ That elicited a small smile, at least. I’d have work on the rest of the iceberg.

  ‘I’m full of wisdom like that.’

  Ava sat up, Fenrir stretched out beside her. That dog made friends easier than most humans. ‘Is that coffee?’

  I darted over to her. She wrapped her palms around the mug. ‘It’s sunny this morning. Open the window, I want to listen to the birds.’

  ‘You’re bossy today,’ I said, smiling. Lolita cracked open the attic window, allowing a cool breeze to freshen the room.

  ‘I’m fed up. I didn’t have a single normal dream last night, just replays of the visions Frigg showed us. Especially…about Menelaus.’ Her eyes moistened. ‘Someone slitting his throat over and over. But it was like I was him. I couldn’t see the perpetrator.’ She nestled the coffee between her knees and picked imaginary dirt from her nails.

  I drew her into my chest. ‘I gave him back his powers last night; hopefully that will protect him.’

  ‘The visions were worse last night, Theo.’

  Here comes another panic attack, I thought, taking a deep breath. Running from the forces of fate was like escaping from a sinking ship. ‘I’m seeing him today. I’ll tell him exactly what to avoid.’ Mum and Aunt Elspeth were dead; I didn’t want to add my cousin to the list, no matter what he’d done. One can only stomach so many deceased relatives.

  ‘And what about you?’ Ava swung her legs out of the bed. ‘Frigg showed us—’

  ‘Frigg showed me lying facedown, covered in blood. Do we know it’s my blood? We’re making assumptions.’

  Ava stretched. ‘You said it looked like we were inside the Praetoriani HQ when it happened?’

  I nodded. ‘I’m going there in an hour.’

  ‘That settles it then,’ she said. ‘I’m going home with Mum. If I’m not there, the vision can’t play out.’

  ‘You can stay here.’

  Ava reached for the towel I left for her on the chair. ‘And live like some princess in a tower? No thanks. I’m having a shower and going home.’

  Sure, what girl would fancy a Viking warlock coven leader with inexplicable magical powers pitted against an all-powerful corrupt organisation? I rubbed Fenrir’s pointed ears and glanced at Lolita, clearly smug with her parenting. Well, Menelaus, I don’t think the girl’s mother would agree.

  Michele was waiting at the front door. At least, I thought it was Michele. ‘What’s with the outfit? It’s a bit early for a BDSM party.’

  I couldn’t see him rolling his eyes at me but I could feel it. Light body armour – a material I didn’t even recognise, a blend of leather and metal – covered his limbs and torso. Leather gloves covered his hands, and his face was hidden behind a black headpiece with a visa – like a tight-fitting motorbike helmet that came down to his shoulders. ‘I’
m the old kind,’ he said, voice muffled. ‘The sunlight is a problem.’

  Malachi and Penny budged into the hallway. ‘I don’t know why you’re bothering playing by the rule book,’ Penny said. ‘They won’t show you the same courtesy.’

  The weird armoured figure looked in Malachi’s direction, who hissed back while sliding his honeyed eyes towards Ava. I took her hand. ‘The Pater Sanguinem,’ he said, curling his wrist and pointing at Michele, ‘is of the opinion that we should maintain the appearance of following the rules, whether or not we actually are.’

  Through the kitchen door I spotted Lori coming up from the basement, carrying a few jars. She joined the crowd in the hall. ‘We need nail clippings,’ she said, ‘lots of nail clippings.’

  Well, Theo, you did agree to lead a varmint coven. So lead it. I took the jars from Lori. ‘No one is going to do anything until I return. No covert raids, no stockpiling, no sacrifices or bloodshed of any kind. Clear?’

  Lori and Penny narrowed their eyes. ‘When we return, we’re going to make two plans,’ I said. ‘Can anyone guess what they might be called?’ I swivelled around and gestured to the witches gathering on the stairs. They looked hesitant, and angry. No one answered. ‘Plan A. Plan A involves avoiding summoning the Hordes of Hel. Got it? Great. Plan B involves nail clippings.’ I shoved the jars back to Lori as Michele opened the front door.

  Malachi jumped backwards into the kitchen, avoiding the warm sunlight. Outside on the drive, a black limousine waited, the windows tinted. ‘Who’s driving that thing?’ I said, having awful flashbacks to the last time I was picked up in a limo, only to be tortured by a man that had the same bruised and bloody knuckles the driver had.

  ‘A personal acquaintance,’ said Michele. He paused for a heartbeat before striding out into the sun. We piled into the limousine after him. Once the door was shut, he took off his helmet and at my enquiring look, tapped the windows. ‘Blocks UV rays,’ he said. The section between us and the driver was blacked out too.