by Libby Bishop
There it was—trust. She trusted him as backup. I can work with that.
“I’m going to get my gun,” she said, walking away from him. She stopped after a half-dozen steps, turning back to him. “Can he kill you?”
“No. Godkin can’t kill a full god.”
“Really? Why not?”
“I can’t get into the why of that—Odin would truly kill me for sharing that information with a human. I’m sorry.”
She took a deep breath. “It is what it is, Viking. We don’t have time to argue. All I needed to know was if he could kill you. Now that I know he can’t, I’m not quite as worried.”
No, they did not have time, but he knew she still had questions. He wished he could give her the answers she so desired.
“Be aware,” he began, “that Erik can wound me to the point where I am unable to stop him from fleeing, or unable to help you.”
She grimaced then nodded. “Okay. Just so I have this straight, he can’t kill you—for reasons you can’t tell me—but he can hurt you?”
“Yes.”
“Torture?”
“Yes.”
She exhaled slowly. “That’s good to know.”
Her rigid stance told him she wouldn’t elaborate on how she felt on the subject. The conversation was undoubtedly closed.
“All right. I’m going to get my gun, then we can go.” She took one step forward, and the floor opened up beneath her. “Rune!”
The end of his name cut off as she disappeared and the hatch—just large enough for an average-size human to fall through—slammed shut. He quickly bent down and tried to punch through it. On the third full-powered punch, he felt it—a pulsing beneath the floor, repeating in rolling waves, never ceasing.
Damn it. Why hadn’t he checked inside the cabin when he’d arrived?
That oversight could cost Liv her life.
He pounded his fist on the trap door once more, then he stood, racing out the door and breaking into a full run once he was off the porch steps.
He was going to put a stop to Odin’s mistake. And if the godkin harmed her before he could reach her, the Son of Thunder would rise, and no god would be able to help Erik…or the god helping him.
…
Liv landed on a hard dirt floor. A shuffle to her left was the only warning she got before Erik slammed his fist into her cheek.
Pain burst through her skull. The world spun, and it took all she had not to pass out.
He yanked her up and tossed her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing, then he raced through a dimly lit tunnel.
Nausea churned in her stomach as he ran, and she tried not to toss her cookies. Although it would serve him right if she puked down his back.
Erik had set the rental cabin up as a trap, just as her gut had told her when she’d entered it. Was it meant for every person who went in? Probably not, but she was right all the same.
He slowed and opened a door, stepping through and slamming it shut behind them.
Thunder rolled above the cabin as Erik dropped her into a cage. She hit the ground and grunted. That would leave more bruises on top of the bruises from the first fall. He grabbed her shirt and yanked her upward, forcing her to her feet. Then he bent down and leaned his face close to her neck, inhaling deeply.
When he met her gaze, his were blazing.
“Mating with a god, are we, Agent Winter?”
She smirked, pushing her fear down deep. “Just a fun roll in the hay, Erik. Don’t you know it’s good stress relief?”
He grabbed her throat, slamming her back into the steel bars. An electric shock ran through her, stunning her for a moment, knocking the breath out of her. He grinned at her reaction then pulled her off them.
She fought past the electric current running through her, feeling as if her nerves were shredded. She’d been tased once by a fleeing suspect, but this was far worse. The man who’d tortured and killed Soosie now had his hands on her. Now it was far more intimate and close to home.
Narrowing her eyes, she said, “I don’t fear you, godkin. Just like Soosie didn’t truly fear you.”
His fingers wrapped around her neck, and he lifted her off the ground—a good foot or so—and her hands went to his wrists as she fought for breath.
“They all feared me.”
She ground her teeth, realizing that her knee was almost perfectly aligned with his family jewels. With all the force she could muster, she rammed her knee into his groin—he dropped her immediately. She steadied herself quickly, her heart racing. Anger pulsed through her, and she wanted to kill him, right then and there, with her bare hands.
She grabbed a fistful of his thick hair and yanked back before he could fully recover from the impact of her knee.
“Oh no, they didn’t, Erik,” she seethed. “You just refused to see it.” She punched him square in the jaw, and he went to his knees. She kneed him in the face, and he fell back.
He rolled away from her before she could grab him again. He was now outside the cage, but she didn’t follow, remembering Rune’s warning.
Erik chuckled as he stood. He shook his head, then wiped the blood from his nose. “You aren’t stupid, Winter. But I knew that.” Smirking, he straightened his clothes. “Though, I was rather hoping you’d be so angry you’d run through the barrier, and I could watch you fall to your knees, fighting for breath. Mouth open…” He licked his lips, not seeming to mind the blood that was there. “I bet those lips of yours are quite talented—wouldn’t be able to please a god elsewise.”
Fucking little bastard could kiss her ass. She narrowed her eyes. “So sorry to disappoint you, Erik.”
Another frightening crack of thunder.
“Seems I’ve angered the Son of Thunder.” He grinned at her. “All because of you.”
When it came to her well being, Rune would turn into a frightening storm of Viking wrath to keep her safe, which made Erik partially right. “No, not because of me. Because of what you’ve done. Taking me just…sped up his anger. At least he has control over it, godkin.”
That wiped the grin off his face.
“Is your self-control that lacking during sex, too?” she pushed. “Because if it is, you’re not god enough to please any woman.”
Erik walked up to the opened door of the cage. He reached in and grabbed her arm before she could move back. A surge went through her so strongly that it felt as if lightning had hit her. She fell to her knees, and he stepped farther into the cage. He yanked her stiff arms behind her back, causing her breath to freeze in her throat. The familiar clank of handcuffs echoed behind her, then cool metal bit at one of her wrists.
Crap.
His breath blew against her ear. “You are going to be fun to break, Liv. The most fun I’ve had in years.”
A clap of thunder shook the room, and water from the brook running through the floor of the cage splashed.
He forced her into a chair, then yanked her arms behind the back of it and cuffed the other hand. At least she wasn’t cuffed to the chair—thank the gods for small favors.
“I am going to personally see to it that you never harm another woman, godkin,” she warned, her voice low. “I’m going to make you pay for every person you’ve ever hurt. I promise you that, and I keep my promises.”
“So it would seem,” he replied.
When he came around to stand in front of her, he punched her gut, sending more lightning into her. A crack sounded, and pain rolled through her. Fucker had broken her ribs. A grunt was all she let out, refusing to give him more than that.
He choked her again, and gave her a Cheshire cat smile. He leaned in close as he increased the pressure, stealing her breath.
“Oh yes, Winter. I’m going to enjoy you.” He winked. “You are going to be the most fun I’ve had with a woman in six years.”
Just keep telling yourself that, you shit. His crack about “six years” was meant to anger her, to remind her that he’d had Soosie in the same basement she was in now.
Calling on every ounce of strength she had, and all her training, she pushed the pain and anger down deep. She could bring the anger out later, but right now she couldn’t afford to lose her temper.
Not if she wanted to make it out of there alive.
A loud crash sounded, and the entire house shook so violently that if she hadn’t known Rune was causing it, she’d have thought an earthquake had erupted from directly under the cabin.
When Erik’s gaze met hers again, she said, “I don’t think you—”
An elbow to the face stopped her taunt. The dark abyss rushed toward her.
Coward was the only word that followed her into the darkness.
…
Rune could feel Erik waiting for him on the other side of the cabin door as he neared it in long, fast strides. Keeping his temper was going to be near impossible, but if he didn’t try, he would get Liv killed, and that was not going to happen on his watch.
He’d rip his own heart out before letting Erik torture her.
Pounding up the steps of Erik’s cabin, he stopped in front of the door, inhaling and sensing the power on the other side. He inhaled deep, then slowly exhaled, testing the power as he did so. The power wasn’t pulsing—it was steady and strong, like a thick wall of concrete, built to keep other gods out. Too bad for his nephew it wasn’t strong enough to stop the Son of Thunder.
While it couldn’t keep him out, the barrier was strong enough that it was going to hurt. He sensed Erik on the other side, concentrating on the wall he’d erected, putting all his strength into keeping the barrier up. And if Erik was concentrating that hard, it meant Liv was incapacitated. Rage built, and his blood pulsed hot.
Fuck the rules. He’d kill Erik himself for harming the woman he loved. The thought of her hurt—or worse, dead—set an emotional storm raging inside him. The sky above him reacted—rain began to pour down, wind howled, and thunder boomed so loudly Odin and the rest of Asgard could most likely feel it.
He hoped to Hel it would be enough to push Odin off his kingly ass and down to Earth to right the wrong that was his great-great grandson.
Squaring his shoulders, he took a step back and assessed the best option for getting past the wall. Once he’d made up his mind, he stepped up to the door again, took a deep breath, and raised an arm. Then, he brought it forward with all the strength Odin had left him.
It slammed into the barrier so hard the reverberation sounded like a bomb had gone off. The porch beneath him shook with it. The strength of the hit illuminated the wall of the power—a light-blue glow with spider-webbed white streaks all through it, like a windshield that had been hit by several rocks. A faint wave of ice-and-fire pain rushed through his fist and up his arm in response.
Ignoring it, he slammed his fist into the barrier again, before the power could rise anew from inside the house. The shield shattered like shards of glass that disappeared before they hit the ground.
Kicking the door in, the wood splintering, he entered the cabin, rolling and straightening his shoulders as he came to a stop a few feet in. Erik stood about six feet away, meeting his gaze head on. What Rune saw in his eyes reflected an anger and bloodlust that matched Reign’s so exactly it felt as if his brother were in the room.
Are you proud of what you created, brother?
Erik was a few inches shorter and not quite as broad-shouldered as his father, but for all intents and purposes, he was probably the closest match to Reign of any of his brother’s children with regard to looks and personality. It didn’t take a seer to know that if Erik had been a full god, he’d have been terminated long ago for the chaos he would certainly have caused in Asgard…and the other realms.
“You should not have taken her.”
Erik scoffed. “You both gave me no choice, uncle.”
“You know who I am to you?”
“Oh, yes. My lineage was explained to me as a teenager.” His eyes narrowed. “And that’s all you need to know of that.”
At the moment, Erik was correct—there were more important matters, namely getting control of Erik himself and getting to Liv.
“Shall we get on with this, uncle? The lady is waiting, after all. I think I’ll have a good time with her once you’re…subdued.”
Raising an eyebrow, Rune repeated, “Subdued?”
Erik’s lips spread into a crooked smile—another trait he shared with his father. “That’s what I said, uncle.”
Rune tilted his head slightly, considering his nephew. “You think you can best me,” he said. “You honestly think you can best a full-blooded god.”
Erik shook his head, his power snaking out and winding around him. Rune said nothing about it, waiting for his nephew to speak. If a fight was going to break out, Erik would be the one to start it.
And there would be a fight. There was no doubt of that. But as long as Erik started it, it would be easier for him to keep his temper in check, which was a miracle. Liv was in the basement, most likely unconscious.
“I can’t best you, Son of Thunder. But I can render you useless…for a short time.”
“And what makes you think that Odin won’t come down here and get you himself now that I’ve found you?” he asked.
Erik frowned, looking away for a moment.
That made Rune smirk. “Hadn’t thought of that, godkin?”
Erik met his gaze again, and when he did, his power shimmered into the air—Rune prepared himself for the coming attack. That power, as he’d told Liv, could har—
A wall of energy rammed into him, sending him flying toward the kitchen. He crashed into the table, breaking the wood to pieces with the impact. As another jolt barreled at him, he began to stand. Twisting around, he punched the wall of power head on with his fist. It shattered as it had before, and the broken shards flew back toward Erik, who had to turn and crouch down from the speed of the shards. The same icy-hot pain ran through Rune’s arm.
Rune moved quickly, getting to his feet and rushing toward his nephew just as Erik began to stand.
Erik turned with a ball of power in his hand—Rune rammed his fist into the left side of the godkin’s face, which sent Erik flying into the living room wall, making a dent where his shoulder hit. Rune hopped over the couch, grabbing the back of Erik’s shirt and hauling him to his feet.
“If I were you, I’d give up now,” he growled and then threw his nephew across the room and into the kitchen.
By the time he reached him, Erik was on his knees, laughing. Rune picked him up by the throat and shoved him against the fridge, his hold tight enough that Erik couldn’t budge, yet could still speak.
Why are you not here yet, Odin? The All-Father should have appeared the moment Rune’s power met Erik’s.
Erik chuckled, and a smile struggled to stay on his lips.
“What is it you find so funny?”
“I’m…going to tear your heart out…before Odin can…get here.”
Rune raised an eyebrow, applying more pressure to his nephew’s throat. “And what makes you think I won’t break your neck before you can do that?”
A strangled laugh answered the question. Erik’s hand moved from his arm to Rune’s neck…and a jolt of electricity stiffened him enough to loosen his grip on Erik. The next bolt dropped him to his knees. He gathered his strength as the next charge powered up within Erik—he punched Erik in the gut, causing the godkin to double over. He grabbed his nephew’s head and yanked him down to the floor onto his back.
“Shouldn’t have done that, nephew,” he seethed.
He raised his arm and began to bring it down for the final punch. Erik’s fist shot out just before his own connected to the runt’s jaw—electricity rocked through him with the punch. But the shock sped up his own arm—his fist hit the floor, Erik’s head turning just in time, as the shock rocked through him.
The hatch to the basement shook from the power of the hit. A second later, before either of them could react, the door splintered and they fell through. Erik g
runted as Rune landed on top of him. The bottom steps broke, tumbling them away from each other.
When he lifted his head to go after Erik again, he saw Liv in the cage, bruised and unconscious. Rage rippled through him. He rolled to his feet and turned to Erik, who was steadying himself as well.
Erik smirked. “I’m going to use her to tear your heart to pieces, uncle. You can even watch me defile her.”
Rune moved forward and stopped a few feet from the godkin. His nephew tried to twist away but Rune was faster and caught him by the arm. He swung his arm before Erik’s power could draw back up. Erik went soaring through the air like a rag doll, colliding with a chair—he grunted at the impact then fell to the floor.
Rune moved toward him in long, quick strides. But the second he stepped near the chair, he felt power erupt around him. Electricity pulsed within it and he stiffened, falling to his knees.
Erik had set a trap for a god.
And he’d stepped right into it because of his anger at seeing Liv hurt and confined.
I should have seen this coming.
Erik came to stand in front of him as the electricity ran through him again, as if on a loop. The godkin bent enough so that their gazes met.
“She’s your weakness—how ungodly of you.”
The punch shocked him. As his body fell the rest of the way to the ground, he couldn’t help but think of the one man who should have been in the room at that moment.
Why are you not stopping this, Odin?
Then, all went black.
Chapter Ten
When Liv came to, the world was blurry. She blinked several times, her body a mass of pain. It hurt to breathe, and she remembered Erik had broken some ribs. Her cheek throbbed, and she fought against passing out again.
Her eyes cleared after a moment, and the sound of shuffling boots touched her ears. Lifting her head, she saw Rune directly across the room from her—in a chair, hands and feet bound tightly. His shirt was off, and his broad chest was covered in dark, ugly bruises.
How the hell long have I been out?
Meeting his gaze, she could tell he couldn’t break free. Something in the bonds must have blocked his strength.