by Amy Sumida
Then, in perfect coordination; Torin squeezed my breast up in offering as Banning set his mouth to it. Torin's thumb flicked my other nipple as Banning sucked eagerly on the one in his mouth.
“Fuck, Elaria; I'm going to come,” Torin growled.
I began to suck even harder as I grabbed Torin's ass and pulled him deeper. Torin came with jerks of his hips, and I drank him down while Banning's hand went to my throat to feel me swallow. Banning groaned around my breast and then pushed up with a cry. His thrusts came faster as Torin drew away. Banning lifted himself on his elbows above me and slammed into me as his face twisted into a mask of wild pleasure.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Torin move. I looked over to see him stroking himself as he watched us. The muscles in his bicep bulged as he worked his hardening shaft, and his thighs tensed. He locked his hot stare with mine and smiled slowly. Banning shouted his release, and I looked back at him; my hand going to the side of his face. His mouth was open, his fangs glinting in the low light, and I lightly drew my fingertip over one of them. Blood beaded on my finger and Banning sucked it into his mouth; his expression turning rapturous as he emptied into me.
Banning collapsed across me and then rolled to the side, sighing in satisfaction. I smiled at him softly, but then I felt Torin's hands on me. I turned to Torin as he crawled onto the bed. He settled himself between my thighs and speared into me. Torin's hands went to my thighs, and he pushed them up and back. Banning grabbed the knee nearest him, and pulled my leg up and over to him; easing my knee behind his neck. Banning laid his head on my knee and started to work his shaft as he watched Torin slam into me. Then Ban moaned, turned his face to me, and bit. I cried out in rapture; one hand going to Banning's head as the other went to Torin's cheek.
“I'm sorry, Elaria,” Torin whispered as he lowered his lips to mine. “But there's no rest for wicked Spellsingers.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The next morning, Odin met us at our breakfast table in the Coven's dining hall. The vast, wood-paneled room had an old world look to it; with heavy tables laid in neat rows, leather chairs set around them, priceless paintings hanging beneath brass lights on the walls, and mullioned windows that looked out across the water. The scent of freshly baked bread, hot coffee, and cooking sausages permeated the air. We had settled at a table near the windows and were garnering a lot of attention from curious Witches—more so when Odin strode up to us. Odin laid out his maps between our plates before he took a seat and began to explain his plan. Halfway through, I interrupted him; laying a hand over his.
“Odin, are you sure you want to be a part of this?” I asked. “He was your friend.”
Odin sighed and sat back in his seat. “I thought he was,” he murmured. “Now, I'm reevaluating everything. I didn't sleep well last night. I kept going through things over and over in my head until I gave up and cast a sleeping spell on myself. You know that I was close with the Norse Pantheon for many years?”
I nodded.
“I left because of the accident.” He gestured to his eye. “I was teaching Mimir a complicated spell, and he took shortcuts when I wasn't looking. The spell components exploded while I was inspecting them.”
“I'm so sorry,” I said gently.
“Here's what's been troubling me,” Odin said, “I'm not sure that it was an accident.”
“What?” I asked in surprise.
“When the Norse Gods first came to this planet, I was a part of a group of Witches who welcomed them.” Odin stared off a moment before continuing. “I became close friends with several of their kind and helped them build their first fortress. They asked me to remain with them, and I did for many years. But I was never one of them. I was an oddity; a Witch in the company of Gods. I began to scientifically investigate their magic; conducting experiments that provided me with the knowledge I needed to create new spells—spells to magnify my magic. I grew to be very powerful. I developed an understanding of their magic that most of the Norse Gods didn't have. That power and wisdom—along with my authority in the Coven—gave me prestige among them. I was the one they looked to for guidance. The humans saw me as their leader; they thought I was a God.”
“And you think that Mimir took umbrage?” Torin asked.
“I think that he may have,” Odin confirmed. “I'm beginning to remember details that are now questionable. The timing of the explosion for one. I only have Mimir's word to confirm that the reason the spell exploded was due to his impatience.”
“But anything could have caused an explosion,” Declan finished. “Especially one so conveniently timed.”
“Exactly,” Odin whispered. “And then I was injured, and my spellcraft suffered. I came home to the Coven to heal, and in the meantime, the Norse Gods moved on without me.”
“So, this is personal?” I asked him.
“Not just for me,” Odin said gently. “There's one other thing I didn't mention last night. The day Mimir came to Coven Cay to visit with me—the same day he ran into the Trinity messenger—he was asking about you, Elaria.”
“Me?” I lifted my brows.
“I don't know why,” Odin said. “I asked Mimir what had piqued his interest in you, but his answers felt shoddy to me. And when I wouldn't tell him what he wanted to know, he left.”
“What did he want to know?” I asked.
“Mainly, your whereabouts.” Odin leaned in. “Mimir said that he wanted to meet the woman who had been causing such a stir in the Beneath. He mentioned Thor, and how he had met you. Mimir said the Thunderer had seen you in action, and made you sound more powerful than a goddess.”
“Cause she fucking is.” Cerberus chuckled.
Odin stared hard at Cer.
“What?” Cerberus huffed.
“Some Gods may find that offensive,” I answered for Odin while I kept my eyes on him. “About as offensive as a Witch leading a God pantheon.”
“Exactly.” Odin nodded. “So, to answer your earlier question; no, I do not want to sit this out. I don't believe that Mimir was ever my friend.”
“Show me the maps again,” I said.
Odin smiled and pushed his drawings toward me.
Chapter Forty
Mimir lived in Yggdrasil, also known as the Norse Realm. The humans who had worshiped the Norse deities had believed that the Universe was a gigantic tree with nine worlds set at different levels upon it. The story of the World Tree is a complex one, but I'll try to simplify it. At the base of the tree was Niflheim; a world of cold and ice. At the top of the tree was Muspelheim, the opposite of Niflheim; a world of fire and heat. The myths say that the convergence of these worlds created the first man and woman, and through murder and mutilation (you don't want to know) the world of humans was born: Midgard. A boundless ocean surrounded Midgard. But that's just the beginning.
Next to Muspelheim, there were two worlds: Alfheim (also known as Liossalheim)—the world of the Light Elves, and Vanaheim—the world of the Vanir (a type of God). Then, at the very top of the tree, there was Asgard—the world of the Aesir (another type of God). Going back down below Midgard, into the roots of the tree where Niflheim lay, there was also Jotunheim—the world of the Giants, and Nidavellir (AKA Svartalfheim)—the world of the Black Elves (AKA dwarves). Lastly, beneath those three there was Hel—the underworld and realm of the Death Goddess of the same name.
Okay, now that I've explained all that, I can say that Yggdrasil is not a tree. It's a universe like all the other realms are. But in this universe, there are many habitable worlds. This is what made the Norse Realm so special, and what fostered the myths of the Nine Worlds; though there are only eight, life-sustaining planets in Yggdrasil. The humans who worshiped the alien Gods mistakenly believed that Midgard—which is actually Earth—was within the same universe as the other Norse worlds. Yeah, I said it; aliens. That's basically what Gods are. Most deities are not from Earth; they journeyed here from other realms, and that makes them aliens. Magical aliens, but still aliens.
We stepped out of the Veil and onto the planet of Utgard; which is another name for Jotunheim. It was the world of the Giants—Mimir's birthplace—but the landscape didn't appear to be any larger than it was on other worlds. Or maybe that was simply because I'd spent time among the giant trees of Primeval. Before us, a dark forest ranged, and behind it rose an ice-capped mountain. The scent of pine was sharpened by the cool air. It was quiet; only the cries of a lonely bird interrupted the silence.
“It's been a long time since I've stepped foot on one of the Gards,” Odin mused.
“The Gards?” Banning asked.
“Several of the Norse worlds are named as types of enclosures,” Odin explained. “The term 'gard' denotes a fence, such as one used to surround a pasture. So, Asgard is the Aesir enclosure.”
“What is Utgard?” Torin asked.
“It is 'out of the enclosure.'” Odin smirked as he looked around. “We are beyond the fence of civilization here; an entire world of wilderness.”
“A wild world.” Gage beamed. “I already feel at home.”
“You know, the word 'wilderness' stems from the Old English 'wild-deor-ness,' which means 'the place of self-willed beasts.'”
Gage scowled at Odin.
“I was just translating,” Odin huffed.
“You kind of are a self-willed beast,” Declan teased Gage.
“Just own it, man,” Banning added. “Beasts are in right now.”
Gage rolled his eyes but smiled as he did. He was beginning to understand the vicious camaraderie that went with our collective.
“Where's Mimir's house?” I asked Odin.
“His hall is there,” Odin pointed toward the forest. “You can just see its roof over the trees.”
We all squinted at the woods, and I was able to make out the tip of a peaked roof.
“So, another hike through a dark forest,” I said with a sigh. “Yippee.”
“But this time we haven't been invited,” Odin added grimly.
“Why didn't you bring us out of the Veil closer to the house?” Declan asked as we headed into the woods.
“We would have risked alerting Mimir to our presence,” Odin said. “He has wards set, I'm sure. I just don't know how far out he's placed them. So, I decided to be safe and aim a little further than necessary. Still, the hall isn't that far from this clearing; perhaps fifteen minutes.”
“As long as I don't get snatched by a bunch of vines again, I'm fine with it,” I said cheerily.
“This forest doesn't have the sentience of Primeval, but you should still keep your guard up,” Odin said.
“Is that guard with a U or without?” Banning smirked.
“With,” Odin said as we entered the forest, and the darkness seemed to come alive around us. “Definitely with.”
“Well, this isn't creepy at all,” I said with bright sarcasm.
“I'd ask you to sing, but that would defeat the purpose of sneaking up on Mimir.” Odin chuckled. “But I do recommend that you prepare a song list. He will use magic against us—”
“I know, Odin.” I laid a hand on his bicep. “You told us all of this already, and we've prepared as best we could; I've prepared.”
“It's always good to be thorough,” Odin muttered.
And then Odin's eyes widened in shock. His horrified gaze lowered to the spike that had embedded itself in his chest. I gaped at the three-inch-long spike as Odin pushed me down into the bushes.
“Everyone get down!” Odin cried.
Odin stiffened and went still. I yanked the thin spike out of his chest and looked it over as the others crawled over to us. More spikes were whizzing by overhead, and the thrashing of large beasts came from all around us. Our enemies were closing in.
“Fuck!” I whispered as I showed the projectile to the others. “It's a manticore spike.”
“He's paralyzed, but he'll be okay,” Torin said as he gave Odin's shoulder a pat. “If we can eliminate this threat, that is.”
“What the fuck are these fuckers doing on the fucking Wild Beast Planet?” Cerberus growled.
Odin's eyes followed us frantically.
“I got this, Odin,” I whispered. “Don't worry; I won't let anything happen to you.”
Gage laid his hand on my shoulder, and I felt his strength barrel into me. “And I got you,” he said. “Sing, sweetheart.”
Torin, Banning, and Declan all added their hands to the mix; taking hold of me and giving me a direct, physical connection to their magic and strength.
“That 'Bang, Bang' song worked pretty well last time,” Cerberus suggested.
Thoughts started racing through my mind. This had to be payback for the manticore pride we killed in Vegas;. But how did these manticores get here, and how did they know that I would be here at this moment? I couldn't concentrate on those questions right now; I had to find a song that would work for this particular situation.
“She can't be firing bullets through this forest,” Torin pointed out. “First off, she'd have to stand to do it, and then find a target. There's too much cover here. She needs something to take control of them instantly; we can kill them afterward.”
“I need to make them slaves,” I whispered as the music for “Lunatics and Slaves” by Sin Shake Sin started to fill the forest.
Kyanite knew what song I wanted to sing the moment I had decided on it. Our relationship was getting stronger and stronger. I briefly wondered if my consorts had anything to do with that.
“I'm never going to get used to this creepy shit,” Cerberus muttered as he stared around us like maybe he could spot the hiding musicians.
Odin rolled his eye.
The bluesy, finger-snapping intro went right into the low, murmuring lyrics that I sang beneath my breath. The vibration of the magic thrummed through my veins, and I fell into the rhythm like a mermaid into water. It was a thumping warning and a sinister accusation. Take stock of your life now because chaos is coming for you. Insanity seeped from the song, creeping through the forest and into the minds of the manticores. A lion's roar shot through the trees, and a screeching cry responded. It was almost as intimidating as my music—almost.
The beat was steady and strong enough to make me close my eyes and sway with it as I envisioned the manticores falling prey to my spell. This time they wouldn't be sprayed by magical bullets. Instead, I would take control of their minds. I would latch onto any chance of escape and tear it from them. They had laid a trap for me but sprung it upon themselves.
The magic slammed into forty-six minds; I felt each one falter under my spell. Forty-six! I suppose I should have been flattered that they thought they needed so many manticores to take me down—and even more flattered that they'd miscalculated. I stood up, and my lovers stood with me; never breaking contact. My arms stretched out to the sides as I summoned my slaves forth. The manticores came stumbling out of the shadows to the rhythm of my music—a sort of stunted march. Their eyes stared blankly forward from their human heads, their mouths closed loosely over their shark teeth, and their shoulders relaxed. Their human torsos flowed down into lion bodies with fur the color of old blood. Behind them, scorpion tails rested on the forest floor; their deadly spikes waiting to be launched... at my command.
The manticores were mine.
I sang the last lines of the song—the power of our collective strengthening it into something unbreakable—and then I took a satisfied breath. They hadn't even stood a chance. Holy shit; I was starting to scare myself.
“It looks as if we have an army to fight Mimir for us,” I noted as I looked
over the mass of manticores.
Gage hefted Odin upright, and I glanced at the Witch elder. Odin's eye was relaxed; I knew he'd be smiling if he hadn't been paralyzed.
“The paralysis wears off pretty quickly for beneathers,” Cerberus nodded to Odin. “Unless you're as bad-ass as I am.” He smirked. “In which case it wouldn't have affected you much at all. But I guess being a Witch doesn't make you more tolerant to poison.”
Odin glared at Cerberus.
“Let me translate that look for you, Cer,” I offered. “Odin said; Fuck off, you poison-resistant mutant from Hell.”
Odin's eye crinkled with amusement.
“Way to ruin a guy's fun, El,” Cerberus huffed.
“Way to take advantage of a fellow soldier, Cer,” I shot back.
“That was shitty, Elaria,” Cerberus whined. “I was just teasing him.”
“Should we leave him here?” Torin looked over Odin skeptically. “We can't be taking him into battle like this.”
“I'm not leaving Odin in the bushes like buried treasure,” I growled as I turned toward Torin.
“Technically, he wouldn't be buried,” Banning pointed out.
“Guys?” Gage tried to interrupt.
“We could take him to the edge of the forest, so at least he'd be nearby,” Declan suggested.
“Excuse me,” Gage persisted.
“What is it, Gage?” Torin stepped back so that we could all see Gage.
Gage stood beside Odin—who was fully recovered; arms crossed as he surveyed us with an amused smirk.
“How the hell did that happen?” Banning gaped at Odin.
“Just a little talon dust on the tongue,” Gage said. “It only took a couple of specks. I think Odin would have come to on his own in a few minutes anyway, but I figured we didn't want to waste any time.”