Twice Turned

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Twice Turned Page 19

by Heather McCorkle


  “Do you think we’re in the wrong spot? We can’t leave the bikes,” she said.

  I shook my head. “It’s not that. One of them was trying to kill you and we don’t know much about valkyries. It could be a trap.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re right. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  I tapped my chest. “Verndari, remember? It’s in my blood.”

  She gave me a bit of a shy smile. “Well, you’re good at it.”

  “All the more reason to choose me.” Though I kept my tone light, I stared straight ahead. I tried to make my words light, teasing, so they’d hide that I wanted her to choose me for more than just her verndari. She looked down at our intertwined hands, making me think I had probably failed miserably. And here I was overstepping, again. But she didn’t let go.

  “You really want to be around all this death?” she asked.

  I looked at her. “I really want to be around you.”

  Her eyes squeezed shut and her face scrunched up as if my words had caused her pain. She let go of my hand. The brush of her soft skin across my palm stayed with me in the form of shivers that ran all through me. Gods, if she would only choose me! Her muscles stiffened until each step looked painful, robotic almost. She folded her arms tight under her breasts. It might have been wrong to enjoy the cleavage shot this gave me right down the V-neck of her Red Phoenix shirt, but I did it anyway. She may be the uppskera to everyone else, but to me she was still a woman. A damn fine one.

  “Me, or the uppskera? Vidar, I—” Her words cut off and her head tilted back, gaze going skyward. A moment later I heard it too; huge wings beating at the air.

  I opened my mouth to warn her to wait and watch, but halted the words when she stepped behind a tree. She turned sideways and the tree hid her from the clearing. I had to pick a much bigger tree.

  Though the beating of wings grew louder, I didn’t see anything. It sounded close, so close the valkyrie should have been landing in the clearing twenty feet from us. My nose told me some kind of winged creature was right there. I looked at Ayra. She shrugged, looking as confused as I felt. A ripple of energy not unlike a breeze rolled out from the clearing. The form of a woman materialized in the clearing. Golden-brown hair hung down over a bare back—with no wings. But it was Halley. Even though her back was to us, I remembered her scent.

  I looked at Ayra but didn’t have to say anything. We waited, our gazes scanning the forest for well over a minute. After a while, Ayra tilted her chin up, nose in the breeze. She sniffed for a long time before looking at me and nodding. I nodded back. We stepped into the clearing together. Our steps were so silent Halley didn’t turn toward us until we’d crossed half the distance between us.

  “You can cloak yourself,” Ayra said.

  Halley nodded.

  “Is it magic?” I asked, unable to keep the hopeful tone out of my voice.

  She shook her head, crushing my hopes. Oh well, I supposed it was enough that valkyries existed.

  “Nope, just technology.”

  Ayra split off from me, flanking Halley. She narrowed her eyes at the valkyrie. “Not even varúlfur inventors have come up with that kind of technology yet,” she said.

  “It isn’t from this world. It’s from Asgard.”

  Goose bumps erupted all over my body. I opened my mouth to ask one of the million questions that popped into my head, but Halley held up a hand.

  “I can’t say any more than that. I shouldn’t even be here,” she said, gaze darting around.

  “Then why are you?” Ayra asked, her tone almost making it a demand.

  Halley looked long and hard at her. “Because Horace was wrong. You aren’t agents of Loki. Your very nature is to fight against the chaos, which is Loki’s doing, to bring order back into balance. Don’t you agree?”

  Ayra’s eyes widened and it was like watching a lighthouse come to life within her. It both thrilled and hurt me to see her like that. How could I ever hope to possess something so ethereal?

  “Wholeheartedly. I am loyal to Odin.” She turned that bright gaze on me for a moment before looking back at Halley. “We are loyal to Odin.”

  Halley’s tense shoulders relaxed. The lines between her brows smoothed. “Good.” Her back went rigid and her eyes cold. “Very good, because Ayra, you’re more than just the uppskera.” She paused and gave her a long look that reminded me of the way a bird watched its prey before it pecked out its innards. “But you know that already, don’t you?”

  The look Ayra gave her back was cold enough to make the waterfalls in Iceland seem warm. “And what would you know about that?” she demanded.

  I stepped up to her side and stared Halley down as well, which was easier than I thought. The valkyrie barely had to look up at me. She was rather tall for a woman, five-foot-eight maybe. But that wasn’t what made me want to look away. She was a valkyrie, for Thor’s sake, one of the chosen. Here I was just a verndari hopeful who hadn’t even been accepted by his uppskera yet. Hel, I wasn’t even an alpha. But I could be both. I knew it, I felt it, and because of that, I wouldn’t back down.

  Though she held her head high, Halley’s throat worked as she swallowed hard. It was subtle, and she hid it well, but it was clear we made her a bit nervous. Good, that meant she was smart.

  “I know everything about it. All valkyrie do, which is why he came after you. But you don’t have to worry. We were instructed to have no contact with you,” she said.

  Ayra put a hand on one slender hip. “I can see that’s going real well already.”

  Halley let out a small laugh. “I was given permission to come back to warn you.”

  Power spiked from Ayra, making my own leap up with it. “Warn me? Is that the beginning of a threat?” she asked.

  Hands going up, Halley shook her head. “No, not at all. You misunderstand, or I said it poorly, I’m sorry. I only mean to warn you that if you misuse that other power of yours, it could lead to the death of Thor.”

  “But how? I would never…” Ayra’s voice choked up and her words stopped.

  Halley’s expression softened. “No, I believe you wouldn’t. But what you can do could lead to someone else being able to.”

  Ayra looked at me, her eyes filled with questions. I wanted to touch her, comfort her, but I knew now wasn’t the time. And I also knew it may be me that needed comfort more than her because behind those questions hid an untapped well of strength any superhero would be envious of. I knew what she was thinking. What could her ability to channel lightning have to do with harming the Thunder God? Lightning couldn’t hurt Thor. And wait…

  “So Thor is… I mean, he can die?” I asked. I’d always thought of the Gods as immortal.

  Shoulders sagging, Halley looked at the ground. “Your kind has been on this world so long they’ve forgotten the truth. Yes. Asgardians don’t age and die like the people of this world, but they can be killed.”

  “Then this power of mine is bad?” Ayra asked.

  Eyes pinching into slits, head shaking, Halley took a step toward Ayra. “No, not at all. Your power is a gift from Odin.”

  Ayra remained stoic, unconvinced. “Why would the Allfather give me a gift that could kill his son?”

  Halley let out a frustrated sigh. “It isn’t your gift that can kill Thor, but it can lead to it. That, or it could help save the nine worlds. I’m sorry, I can’t explain more. And Odin gave uppskeras that gift to reward them for being loyal to him. Only the most loyal ones of the bloodlines are chosen, and you, Ayra, are one of those.”

  The aggravated vibrating of Ayra’s power eased. “So I should avoid using my power.”

  “No. Use it, you need to learn to control it.” She nodded toward me. “He can help with that. You could be two of Odin’s most powerful einherjar someday if you master it. Just don’t let anyone else use it for their means. And don’t ever combine it with the seeker and the key’s power. That’s how it could lead to Thor’s death.”

  The heaviness of the conver
sation made me want to sit down, badly. But as hard as it was for me to hear, it had to be twice as hard for Ayra. I stood tall by her side. I had to be the mountain she could rely on to shield her from the storm.

  “The key?” I asked.

  Halley shook her head. Feathers rustled as wings materialized out of her back. “I have to go before I say too much.” She took a small leather-bound book from the back pocket of her jeans. “This should help.”

  Ayra accepted it from her. “An uppskera journal. But why wasn’t this with the collection the bloodlines have?”

  “Because not every uppskera could do what you can do. And the journals of those that could are kept in a library in Valhalla.” Halley dipped her head to both of us. “Take care, uppskera and verndari. I’m glad I got to meet you.”

  Her huge wings swept up and on the downstroke she became airborne. In another swipe of them she disappeared, leaving us in a feathery-scented breeze. Ayra turned a wide-eyed gaze to me. The smile on her face took me completely by surprise.

  “Valkyries are real,” she whispered.

  I put an arm around her as we both leaned our heads back into the breeze and breathed in the scent of a race born on Asgard. For a moment we were two kids again, filled with wonder and hope. No matter what happened, at least we had that.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The uppskera must look into the eyes of demons, and not become ensnared by their gaze.

  ~Uppskera Journals

  Ayra

  Turned out the not so sleepy town of Hood River was barely in Oregon. And while it sat on a river, it wasn’t the Hood River. Under the blanket of night we cruised up I-84 along the Columbia River where it separated Oregon and Washington. Despite it being July, a misty rain enveloped everything, giving the lights of the town a blurred look. I followed my nose to the greenest smelling part of town—no easy feat with the murky scent of the river and rain overwhelming everything else. Even if Calder were here, I wouldn’t be able to smell his trail over the moisture unless I was right on top of it. So I had to go where I thought he’d go.

  Two-story buildings lined a stretch of street bordering a waterfront park that had what looked like a sandy shore. I looked over at Vidar. He hunched on his Harley as if trying to crawl into the machine. His shorts and T-shirt clung to him like a second skin, revealing planes and valleys of muscle I hadn’t noticed before. My body tried to react to the sight. With a will that was steadily fading, I stopped it. The skidlid helmet my cousin had given him covered nothing but the top of his head. He was the very picture of a hot, miserable mess. It made it increasingly difficult to stay angry at him.

  I pressed the button on the front of my helmet that released the lower half, and flipped the full-face shield up. I needed air. The scents of damp earth and concrete intensified. Exhaust, pungent garbage from back alley dumpsters, and the varying scents of too many humans lay beneath. Unfortunately, the rain could only do so much to wash a place clean, especially a city.

  Vidar didn’t say anything and for that I was grateful. His outstanding varúlfur hearing had to have picked up at least part of the conversation. I’d been shouting at one point, after all.

  Noses in the wind, we crawled down the mostly empty street just fast enough to keep our feet off the ground. Vidar touched his nose and pointed to the right a moment before I smelled it; not just my brother, but his blood. The scent was old, but unmistakable. Every time I’d been able to draw the asshole’s blood during a sparring match had been a tiny victory to me. You never forget what victory smelled like when you were an abused little girl. We turned down the street.

  The smell led me to a stop sign, or rather, the street sign posted above it. The barest traces of blood smeared across the street sign remained. The misty rain was making quick work of it. If we had arrived even a half hour later, it would have been gone. Lucky for us last week had been hot and dry here, because by the scent of it, this clearly hadn’t been left here yesterday. And I was sure it had been left, like a trail of breadcrumbs I was supposed to follow.

  “I don’t like this,” Vidar said just loud enough for my sensitive ears to hear him over the rumble of his Harley.

  “Me neither.”

  But as with everything in my life, I didn’t have a choice. I turned down the road the bloody street sign pointed toward. Not willing to crawl into a potential ambush, I closed my helmet and pulled the throttle back. The road led us swiftly out of town. The Mount Hood National Forest soon swallowed us whole. Towering pines and spruces squeezed out all but the barest glimpse of the midnight blue sky and two-lane road ahead. Something deep inside told me this was exactly where Calder wanted us to end up.

  I slowed to a crawl once more and lifted the lower half of my helmet. In less than a quarter of a mile I smelled more old blood. This time it came from a tree standing sentinel beside an unmarked gravel road. We turned at the tree. After only a hundred feet or so it became clear the road was only a deep turnout that looped through a stand of trees and back to the road. I rolled my bike to a stop beside a tree, killed the engine and pulled my helmet off.

  My power flared a second before thunder rolled across the not-so-distant hills. I peeled my nylon jacket off, needing to be free from the constraints of the stiff, plastic armor within it. Something was coming, I could feel it deep down in my bones, and it wasn’t just a storm. I focused on the feeling. Watching Vidar swing from his bike, wet cargo shorts clinging to his fine ass, didn’t exactly help me concentrate. I closed my eyes.

  The press of tainted power came from all sides. Four condemned approached. My eyes opened. Tall trees and hills surrounded us. We weren’t exactly in a hollow, but I’d certainly call it a deep valley.

  “We need to get to high ground, now,” I said.

  I took off at a run deeper into the forest. Vidar followed without a word of protest. The thought of him seeing me reap made my stomach churn—violently. But I couldn’t make him leave. Some of the condemned might follow him. I knew he could take care of himself, but I didn’t want him getting hurt because I ran him off. Especially not when the reason I wanted him to leave wasn’t for his own safety, but because I was afraid of what he’d think of me if he saw me kill.

  Within moments we made it to the top of a small hill. The trees covering the land didn’t allow us to see very far, but I still felt better. Through gaps in the pine boughs I saw our bikes. I smelled the musk of the condemned before their wolf forms trotted into sight. Four of them surrounded our bikes, canine snouts swinging this way and that as they checked for our scents.

  While they jogged around I removed my boots. When I unbuttoned my shorts Vidar raised his brows at me. I lifted my head in the direction of the werewolves, hoping he’d get it. If we fought them in wolf form, they’d likely stay in wolf form. Four wolf corpses would bring no attention from the authorities. Four more human corpses would start to look like a trail. Vidar nodded and took his shirt off.

  All that muscle covered in that dark skin distracted me. I still couldn’t believe how much he’d filled out in the four years he’d been gone. My skinny comic book geek was no more. The problem was, I’d wanted him even then. Now he was a mountain of perfection that distracted me to no end. And I couldn’t afford a distraction right now.

  I removed the rest of my clothes and dropped them in a pile. Vidar’s expression didn’t change when he turned my way, but his power spiked and the scent of desire rolled off him. I reached for the ground and shifted into a wolf. A heartbeat later, Vidar shifted too. The moment he did, my desire for him intensified as my wolf-side recognized a suitable mate. The wolf didn’t care about semantics and reasons. It only recognized that Vidar was perfect in every way that mattered. I shoved the instinct down deep and focused on the fight that was coming our way. It wasn’t easy.

  In the subtle body language of wolves, I told Vidar we should move to a spot a few trees down. The fir trees there had thicker, lower boughs that would help hide my blinding white-blond coat. I knew they’d fin
d us. I wanted them to. But I had no intention of making it easy on them. And it would be on my terms, in a location of my choosing. Vidar and I took off at a jog together. I crouched behind the big, feathery boughs while Vidar chose a spot deeper in the shadows and all but disappeared.

  We didn’t have to wait long. The condemned panted and growled as they sniffed along our trails, all but announcing their locations. One approached from each direction. I braced myself—not for the attack—the clumsy idiots were still a hundred yards away—but for their memories. In another few breaths they slammed into my mind with a vengeance.

  Big hands around a woman’s neck, squeezing harder and harder. Those same hand unzipping his pants after the life went out of the woman’s eyes.

  Sitting on a park bench watching children play, choosing one of them by the way the little girl’s shorts clung to her behind.

  Breath coming in excited gasps filled with anticipation as he stalked a jogger on a remote forest path.

  Raising a knife to stab a man writhing and bleeding out from a dozen other wounds.

  Each image hit me like a punch in the gut. And each one was from a different man. Rage exploded through me like a series of fireworks. It took my breath away, threatened to steal my reason. The desire to kill them for what they had done turned into a desperate need. In the cesspool that was their minds, I could feel that they would do it again. Some had killed multiple people already, some before they had been bitten in, some after.

  Roar tearing from my throat, I stepped into the open. Let them come for me. I wanted them to find me so I could kill them. My claws dug into the soft earth in anticipation of rending their flesh. The only thing that kept me from chasing after them was knowing by staying put they would all come to me.

  Vidar’s nearness soothed me and helped me think clearly. Thankfully, he stayed hidden in the shadows. It could work to our advantage, him being hidden.

 

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