A Twist of Wyrd

by PJ Friel

  Harry jumped to his feet, a pained look flashing across his features.

  “I need a drink.” He made a beeline for the mini-bar.

  “Bad time to get wasted.” I couldn’t help my snark.

  “You remind me of your mother,” Grimm murmured, his voice soft, almost sorrowful.

  “Her mother almost killed you.” Harry snapped.

  Grimm’s look spoke volumes. “She had reason.”

  Harry scoffed.

  These guys were driving me crazy.

  “The only mother I have is currently being held and probably tortured by some Svartalf. Let’s focus on that, shall we.”

  Grimm smirked. “Spoken like a true princess.”

  “Screw you and screw that. I’m nobody’s princess.” I turned to the only person in the room I even remotely trusted. “Jace, Naoko killed my father.”

  CHAPTER 49

  TRYGG

  My nostrils flared, desperate for a breath of air that didn’t stink of copper and leather—my blood and DG’s whip. The crack of the strike faded and I mentally added another count to the number of times DG had hit me.

  Seventy-five.

  Seventy-five licks of fire. Seventy-five reasons to fucking kill DG when I got free. And I would get free, of that I had no doubt.

  “Pain is part of the process,” DG said.

  “Go fuck yourself,” I panted.

  Seventy-six.

  The whip flayed another strip of skin from my chest and blood filled my mouth. I’d bite my tongue off before I gave that son of a bitch the gift of a scream. Thirty minutes ago, I’d been trading quips with DG and trying to ignore the pain. Almost too late I’d realized that oblivion was the trap. Now, I focused on every line of fire the whip burned into my skin.

  Seventy-seven.

  If I gave up the driver’s seat inside my head, the pain would go away, but so would my control over my body. DG wasn’t lying. Pain was part of the process. My goal was to draw out that process until DG got so frustrated that he gave up. Someone needed to surrender.

  Not. Seventy-eight

  Gonna be. Seventy-nine.

  Me. Eighty.

  Not. Eighty-one.

  Gonna be. Eighty-two.

  Me. Eighty-three.

  “Let’s try something different.” DG raised his arm and winked.

  Not. Eighty—

  Agony exploded in my groin as the whip sliced into the thin cotton over my cock. I tried not to vomit while DG grinned at me. I almost failed. My stomach heaved and I barely held back the rush. Bile and the coppery blood I’d swallowed burned up my throat and I struggled not to choke. For a single moment, I wished myself far away, in Bryn’s arms with her sweet smell filling my nose.

  And that was all it took.

  Before I even realized my mistake, the shadowy form slipped past my guard and out of the cage. Oily and rank, so frigid it burned me. The thing yanked me out from behind the steering wheel of my mind and shoved me into the backseat. Taking control of my body, it left me beating against a glass partition like a criminal in a cop car.

  “Master.” The voice was mine, but the word was one I would never utter.

  “Finally.” Satisfaction oozed from DG, as he dropped the whip. “Where is Bryn?”

  “I don’t have that information, but she does.” I nodded my head towards Eugenia.

  No. No. No. Shut up. Stop telling him things!

  DG looked at Bryn’s mother and sighed. “I don’t suppose you’re going to make this easy on me, are you, Mrs. Ullman?”

  “I believe the appropriate answer in this instance is...Go screw yourself.”

  DG snorted. “I’d rather fuck you.” He untied my hands and ankles and jerked his head towards Eugenia. “Get dressed, then move the instrument table beside the chair. You’re to guard her while I tell Eamon the bad news. If anyone but me tries to free her, kill them.”

  As hard as I tried to slam the brakes on my actions, I couldn’t. Instead, I dressed while DG watched. The pain of fabric rubbing against my wounds was excruciating, but I was powerless to fight his wishes. I was a puppet.

  Stop! For the love of Odin, stop!

  “I’ve thought about killing you for the past week, Mac, but I have to admit...having you doing my bidding is so much more satisfying.” DG patted me on the head like a dog and sauntered out of the room.

  Beside me in the mental prison DG had locked me in, was my berserker, snarling at me with a mouthful of fangs. All this time I thought it was me against one monster when I’d actually been fighting two.

  Berserk and Hamingja. Odin’s pet and my heritage. I wanted nothing to do with either of them. Had done my best to separate myself from them both.

  Now, DG had control of us all.

  Kill me. Someone please kill me.

  CHAPTER 50

  BRYN

  “Are you shitting me?” Jace asked. “How do you know it was Naoko?”

  “Retrocognition.”

  Grimm’s eyes widened, but he said nothing.

  “Who is Naoko?” Harry’s voice was flat.

  “She’s DG’s girlfriend…or so I thought. This puts a spin on things.” Jace scrubbed a hand over his face. “Sweet Jesus. Is this whole thing really an attempted coup against Hinterland? DG hiring assassins to take out his dad?”

  “I don’t know. DG wasn’t in the vision with her, but I saw a Svartalf, too.”

  DG had been there when Mordechai had almost been killed, though. He’d also shown an interest in Gideon’s case and had been there when Trygg and I had found Drew. For the first time with this case, I finally felt like I was firing on all cylinders.

  “This thing just keeps getting stranger and stranger.” Harry rubbed his temples as if the whole thing was giving him a massive headache.

  “I think it’s crystal clear. We need to go to the Prodigal Lair.”

  “You are not going anywhere.” Grimm pointed a finger at me.

  “I knew you were lying.” I shook my head. “I suppose you’re going to restrain me to ensure that I stay put?”

  “Damn straight,” Grimm looked almost gleeful. He stood and grabbed some nylon rope from the floor.

  “Please,” I held up my hands. “Did you bring my backpack from the house? It has some clothes in it and I’d like to change before you tie me up. I’m covered in my dad’s blood.”

  “No.” Grimm stepped towards me.

  “Grimm. Let her change,” Harry reasoned. “She can’t get out of the windows in the bathroom and she can’t get past us.”

  “Fine. Make it fast. Every minute you delay us is one less minute your mother and Trygg have to live.”

  I grabbed the pack that Harry tossed to me and darted back into the bathroom. My heart pounded as I yanked it open, praying that what I needed was still in there. Right on top, was the Svartalf mask. Underneath, were a set of clothes, several daggers, two Glocks, and a dozen full mags. I changed then grabbed two daggers with thigh sheaths and one of the Glocks. The daggers I strapped on, the Glock I shoved in the back of my waistband. Then I pocketed two mags and put on the mask.

  Finally, I turned out the bathroom light and stepped into shadow. Slowly, I opened the bathroom door then poked my head out. The berserkers didn’t seem to notice and that’s when I realized that the door on the shadow plane was functioning separately from the door on the physical. Grinning, I sped out of the hotel room right past the berserkers.

  “I’m coming Trygg. Just hang on, baby.”

  # # #

  I cruised around the Prodigal Lair in the SUV I’d stolen from the berserkers, gaze watching the rearview for any sign of Jace and the others. There was nothing obvious, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t close behind me. I parked down the street from the nightclub and sat for a moment, going over plans in my head.

  The reckless side of me wanted to rush in there, proverbial guns blazing, and rescue my mother and Trygg. The sensible side knew that I’d be doing nothing but putting myself and everyone el
se in more danger, including innocent clubbers. I needed to neutralize DG with minimal fuss and no human authorities, regardless of how badly I wanted to see him behind bars, the son of a—.

  Wait.

  Son. If this really was an attempted coup—and I was almost certain that was at least part of it—then DG was betraying his father. Pulling Mordechai into this might not be the best idea, but desperate times called for desperate measures. An irate mob boss about to kick the crap out of his traitorous son would make an epic distraction.

  Besides, as far as I was concerned, Mordechai needed to take care of his own family business. When a kid’s a douche bag, it’s up to the parent to step in.

  I’d bet my last bullet that Dezi had Mordechai’s cell phone number. DG might be her client, but networking was my bestie’s jam. I pulled out my phone and stared at it.

  This could very well be the last time I ever talked to Dez. There was no doubt in my mind that she’d try to talk me out of what I had planned, but I couldn’t let that happen. I also needed to make sure that if this exploded in my face, Dez didn’t take any of the blow back. I tapped her contact pic and pressed my phone to my ear.

  “Bryn, where the hell are you?” Dezi screamed.

  “Geez, Dez. Can you lower the decibels a few? I need my hearing if I’m going to pull this off.”

  “If I make you deaf, will you come back to the hotel?”

  “No. I’ll just go in handicapped.”

  “I hate you right now. Do you have any idea how worried I am?”

  I sighed. “I’m sorry I’m worrying you, but I couldn’t let them sideline me.”

  “I know that. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Dezi echoed my sigh. “What do you need?”

  “I need Mordechai Hinterland’s phone number.”

  “Say what?”

  “I know for a fact I didn’t stutter,” I said.

  “You know sass doesn’t work on me. Tell me why you need to call him.”

  “I would, but it could get you killed.”

  “Har. har. Still waiting.”

  “I’m serious, Desiree.”

  Dead silence for several long seconds.

  “Bryn, what are you planning?”

  “I don’t have time to lay it out for you, but Mordechai’s my only chance to keep people from dying.”

  “You are being really vague and I don’t like it. Jace wouldn’t tell me where they were going either. Where are you? What people are you protecting?”

  “Later, okay?” If we actually had a later. “How long ago did they leave?”

  “About twenty minutes ago.”

  That meant they were about five minutes behind me. Crap.

  “Okay. Can you just please send me Mordechai’s number?”

  “Fine, but I want all the harrowing details the minute this is all over, you feel me?”

  “Yeah.” I took a deep breath. “Listen...Dez, I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it.”

  “I know that, you crazy, paranoid bitch.” Dez scoffed. “I have been your best friend since the fourth grade. The fourth goddamn grade, Bryn. It’s going to take more than an argument to get rid of me.”

  I laughed. That’s my bestie. “I know that now, but I gotta tell you something.” I took a deep breath. “If something happens to me and Jace, I need you to promise me that you won’t raise a stink about it.”

  “Oh, hell no. If something happens to you, I’m finding David.”

  “No! You can’t do that, either. This is Outlander business. You and David have to stay out of it. Promise me.”

  “You’re really scaring me.” Dezi’s voice was a mere whisper. “I thought when they brought you back to the hotel that you were going to be safe.”

  “I know and I’m sorry...about everything.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You’re my best friend in the whole world, Desiree Simmons, and I need to know that you’re going to be safe if anything happens. So, promise me.”

  “I promise, Bryn.”

  “No lies?”

  “No lies.”

  That was what I needed to hear. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Send me Mordechai’s number.”

  “I will as soon as we hang up. Just be careful. You happen to be my best friend in the whole world, too, and I don’t want to have to look for a different maid of honor when Jace asks me to marry him.”

  I laughed and swiped a tear from my cheek. “Yeah, god forbid I mess up your wedding procession.”

  Dezi sighed. “Love you, B.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I ended the call and waited for Dezi. True to her word, she came through seconds later. A single deep breath and the push of my finger and I was listening to the phone ring again. Once. Twice.

  “Pick up. Come on.”

  “Hinterland,” Mordechai’s voice filled my ear.

  “Hello, Mordechai. This is Bryn Ullman.”

  “Ms. Ullman, to what do I owe this pleasure?” There was a smile in his voice.

  Should I tell him the truth or use a ploy to get him here? Like there was any choice in my world.

  “How close are you to your son’s new club?”

  “That’s a rather odd question.”

  Pretty sure that smile had just turned into a frowny face and I was just getting started.

  “Perhaps, but it’s relevant to my reason for calling.”

  “I’m approximately fifteen minutes away, having a late dinner with Mist and some business associates. I suggest you explain the relevance immediately.”

  When I’d met Mordechai, I had known that he had money and power, but he had appeared to lack the ruthlessness associated with a mobster. The current tone of his voice showed I’d misjudged him. This was not the voice of a charming older gentleman. No, this man was capable of extreme violence. Unfortunately for him, he’d caught me on a day when I was willing to return the favor. Time to add a death glare to that frowny face.

  “Immediately is when you should get to your son’s club, if you want to remain the leader of your Devourers, that is.”

  “Explain.” His tone said he was edging closer to where I wanted him to be.

  “Your son is plotting against you with the aid of Svartalf.”

  “My son is planning a coup at a dance club?” Mordechai’s question was asked in a mocking voice, but I’d heard silverware clatter when I mentioned Svartalf.

  “You can believe it or wait for a Svartalf dagger in your back. Up to you.”

  “How did you come by this knowledge? What’s your involvement with Outla—” He bit back the word, then continued. “With our community?”

  “My ties to the Outlanders are my business. All you need to know is that he’s kidnapped people I care about.”

  There was a long moment of silence, then Mordechai growled. “If you’re playing games with me, Ms. Ullman, you’re going to be very sorry.”

  “Not as sorry as you’re going to be if your son goes from kidnapper to murderer before you get here.”

  I ended the call and settled in to wait on Mordechai. When he showed up, I could slip in with his entourage and hit the door to the lower level before anyone was the wiser.

  Piece of cake.

  Perfect plan.

  Then the lights on the entire block went out.

  CHAPTER 51

  BRYN

  Patrons streamed out of the dark club as I watched from my position behind the SUV. This was my chance to go in without anyone noticing. The darkness would cover my entry. Any guards would be worried about keeping everyone calm and exiting in an orderly fashion. I could just stroll right in. Easiest infiltration ever.

  If only my feet would move.

  I yanked my hair. “Get a grip. You’re okay. You can do this.”

  Every positive mantra I’d ever read or heard played in my head, but my feet weren’t listening because it had occurred to me as soon as the lights went out that I was now in a Svartalf playground and I was woefully unprepared. I would be going up
against people who had been shadow walking their whole lives and I’d been doing it for only a couple of hours.

  “Move! Just...move.” Nada from my feet.

  I wiped my hand down my face, felt the cold sweat under my fingertips, tasted the salt on my lips. The last thing I remembered tasting was Trygg and if I didn’t go now I was going to lose the chance to ever feel his lips against mine again.

  Mordechai might be coming to put an end to his son’s rebellion, but that didn’t mean he would set DG’s captives free. More likely, he’d clean up the whole mess, including the people who could accuse his son of kidnapping.

  My foot moved forward. One step, then another, until I was striding across the street and mingling with the people hanging around outside the front of the club. No doubt they were waiting to see if the power company would get the juice flowing through the wires once more. I was praying for the opposite.

  In spite of the lack of electricity, there were still pockets of light created by the emergency flood lamps and it was to those I gravitated. If I wanted to get into the building, though, I’d have to surf through the dark spots and even then I wouldn’t be invisible to the guards, unless I shadow walked.

  Trembling, I took the mask out of my jacket, where I’d tucked it to avoid any weird looks. It wasn’t Halloween and wearing a rune-covered mask in public would draw attention. With one quick glance around me, I stepped backwards into a shadow and felt the cold wrap around me.

  The mask fed me air and I looked around, hands on my daggers, ready to draw and fight if needed. No Svartalf in the vicinity, but I could see shadow forms of the people standing outside the club. I wasn’t sure if I could walk through them or not and I wasn’t willing to chance it, so I threaded through the stream of people still coming out of the club.

  When I reached the doors, I pressed against the walls and slid inside. The cloakroom off to the side was deserted. I exited the X-ray world inside there and crouched down, trying to absorb some heat from the world I’d never quite felt comfortable in. Until Trygg.

  After a few minutes, I peeked over the counter and surveyed my surroundings, hoping that I’d see that giant bouncer so I could question him. He hadn’t been outside.