11. Ghost Writer
12. It’s Been A While
13. A Touch Undead
14. Foresight’s A Bitch
15. Supply Run
16. Hellingstead Hair Raids
17. Fenrir
18. Dying To Be Noticed
Interlude: Raphael
II. Blood Brother
19. Army
20. Welcome to the Family
21. Liquid Interrogation
22. Blood Magic
23. Dancing with Stardust
24. The Prodigal Sons
25. Beetles Under Rock
26. The Amulet
27. See You At Sundown
28. Leap of Death
29. The One Who Needs It Most
30. Mirror, Mirror
31. Hills of Blood
32. The Gathering
EXCERPT
33. A Night Off
34. A World Within You
35. Countdown
36. Wrath of the Returned
III. Part Three: Trial By Fire
EXCERPT
37. The Break Up
38. The Golden Court
39. Rats
40. Cut Short
41. Priddy Awful
42. Serpent Slayer
43. Courting Destruction
Interlude: Raphael
IV. To Hel and Back
44. Naglfar
45. Hel in Hellingstead
46. Valkyrie
47. Goodbye
48. The Gatekeeper Reborn
49. Nikolaj
Epilogue
EXCERPT
Entry from the Book of Gatekeepers, written by Theo Clemensen:
June 3rd 2015
Less than a month ago, I turned twenty-one and got lumbered with being the Gatekeeper. Now the world’s magic and primal life source that feeds the World Tree, Yggdrasil, courses through my veins, and will dry up completely if I die, plunging the universe into oblivion. Great, what a chat-up line to try out on my girlfriend, and childhood sweetheart, Ava. ‘Hey, honey, let’s make a (male) baby who will become the Vessel for the Lífkelda on his twenty-first birthday! The fate of the Nine Realms depends on it!’
Yeah well, I’m not sure she’s even my girlfriend yet. She’s only just remembered who I am after my father erased our memories to ‘protect us’ from the Guardians of the Praetoriani. Sorry Father, but that backfired a little, considering Ava almost ended up with the Guardian – and annoyingly rugged professor – Menelaus Knight, who drove Mum to her death eleven years ago.
Last time I let Father’s paranoia run my life. I’ve left our grand estate, Hellingstead Hall, on the Somerset coast and joined forces with a bunch of Tuscan witches and vampires who can actually defend me from the clutches of the Praetoriani. They’re after me because – thanks to helping out my buddy and new vampire, Lorenzo – I ended up trapped in the Underworld and missed my Assessment, which is the official reason for my upcoming trial, but I suspect the Praetoriani has much darker motives.
After all, I’m pretty sure it’s them who ordered my kidnapping and torture over the amulet that protects the Gatekeeper (i.e. me) from an untimely death. Which was all pointless really because this kid-sprite called Raphael took it while my Elven uncle and Lorenzo were busy saving me from Hel, the Black Widow of the Underworld.
Odin, Thor, and Freyr, I miss being twenty.
I
MISSING
Theo | Menelaus | Ava | Lorenzo
1
Black Roses
Candle wax and charcoal, mingled with dust, scarred the Old Vicarage’s attic floor. Fusing my magical line with thirteen Italian witches had been a quieter affair than I had imagined, but their dark eyes glittered in the dusky rays penetrating the small windows.
We sensed the enormity of the moment. Even Penny, the high priestess of our coven, had traded her usual smirk for solemnity. This moment would set in motion the lumbering and inevitable wheels of fate, and every single one of us would either rise or be crushed underneath its weight. A descendant of Thor could not bind his powers to the sons and daughters of Diana and Lucifer without consequences.
Then again, the world had drifted towards the precipice, as close to the cliffs as Hellingstead itself.
And the horizon was blood red.
I stood and walked into the middle of the circle, my tongue still tainted with the taste of blood from each witch and warlock now under my leadership and protection, mixed within the hlautbolli – a wooden bowl I had conjured from the sanctuary of the Clemensen family temple. We had all drunk from it. I glanced at Lorenzo and Malachi waiting in the shadows, Ava standing with them. The vampires’ faces remained unreadable. Not so much my would-be girlfriend’s. I suppose watching me drink blood wasn’t her idea of a turn-on.
I nodded to Lorenzo.
‘Brothers and sisters, Pneuma of my flesh,’ I said, ignoring the voice whispering that these witches and warlocks really were my children, children of the Gatekeeper. Lorenzo handed a wooden box over the heads that tilted up to face me, and I slid back the lid. ‘I have prepared a gift to represent the union of the Northern Tradition with the Old Religion. I hope that whatever happens, this will remind each of us where we belong, and that as long as we remain steadfast to one another, we are unbreakable.’
As I walked around the circle, I gave a necklace to each coven member, halting at Penny. I helped her to her feet, and she lifted her long, black hair, inviting me to clasp the necklace around the lacy collar of her dress so it rested just above her breasts.
In the shadows behind her, Ava had her eyes trained on the floor. Longing threatened to ruin my concentration, but there would be plenty of time to reassure her later. This, now, meant something. ‘Penny Nocenti, do you accept this gift as a symbol of our magical union?’
Her long nails brushed over the necklace, a silver-and-gold Thor’s hammer with a pentagram emblazoned on the handle. Those nails nicked my hand as I retracted it from her chest, where the black lace hugged her bust and waist. The lace descended from hip to ankle, with a slit that left most of her legs bare, and flowed into a train behind her. The grin I had been waiting for filled her sharp features and for a moment, softened by the candlelight, she almost looked radiant.
Like a bride.
‘I do,’ she said.
I swallowed hard.
Penny nodded to Malachi. He passed her a bundle of gauzy, black cloth reminiscent of a funeral shroud. Penny ripped away the cloth to reveal a wreath of black roses, and she pressed in close. I could smell the blood we had tasted together on her lips, fuller now that she was kissing distance away. She held the wreath – a crown – above my mane of golden curls.
‘Theo Clemensen, do you accept this wreath I bestow on you as a symbol of your commitment to Diana’s sacred coven, to work for our aims as we protect yours, to join with our flesh and blood and power in the holiest of magical unions?’
Maybe I should have really looked at Ava then. Maybe if I had, I would have saved everyone a lot of trouble. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I couldn’t look her in the eyes while signing my life away to another woman, no matter how valid my reasons.
‘I do.’
Penny pushed the wreath upon my head and the rose thorns bit into my scalp, drawing out droplets of blood like forced tears. Penny and I joined hands. For the first time we examined each other properly. I had dismissed her power as inconsequential, up until the moment she had saved Ava’s life. She often sourced her words from the polar regions of her heart, but a fire burned deep behind her eyes. The silver beads that embellished her dress glinted and moved like stars in the candlelight. She was a vision.
A flutter danced in my periphery. I stared at a tiny, shrouded figure with silver-thread frosted wings.
‘You see the Donne di Fuori?’ Penny whispered.
I stared into Penny’s bottomless eyes. ‘The fairies?’ The fluttering multiplied inside the circle, like a cloud forming in the sky. ‘Where did they come from?’
&
nbsp; Penny smiled. ‘They belong to us,’ she said, her native, silky accent resurfacing, full of wonder. ‘They move through the shadow-realms to do our bidding. You see them now; our union is complete.’
Her hands felt warm in mine.
We both jumped as if struck, suddenly aware of our surroundings. Everyone whipped round to watch as lightning flashed across the darkening sky, the moon stained red by the setting sun.
Why were we frightened of a little weather when the ancient beast seething inside of me powered it? I laughed at the absurdity and everyone joined in, a great release of tension that poured from our bodies and into the gloomy attic, the sudden rain a great sigh from outside.
I thought of my father and uncle, of Menelaus Knight and the organisation that likely had ordered my mother’s death or capture. It is everyone else who should be afraid, not us.
My eyes searched for Ava’s once more.
But she wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t even there.
‘Why did you let her leave?’
Lorenzo shrugged and poured another glass of wine. ‘Sorry, Theo, didn’t realise she was your prisoner.’
I plucked the glass from his hand and downed it in one, not tasting it. We had a rare moment alone together in the kitchen of the Old Vicarage and the stress of living with fifteen other people had taken its toll, even if most of them slept in the basement. ‘I thought she’d stick around. At least say goodbye.’
Lorenzo started drinking right out of the bottle – and I thought I was the heathen. ‘What do you want me to say? I’m sure she was thrilled to watch you drink blood and marry thirteen strangers. What was that like anyway?’
‘Marvellous,’ I said, ‘but I don’t suppose I need to describe the pleasures of consuming haemoglobin with you, vampire.’
‘I meant fusing your powers, dummy. Looked like a rush. I thought you were high when you started laughing like that.’
‘As a kite,’ I said, hardly believing that I’d done it, that I’d taken control of the strings my uncle had once promised to hold firm for me. ‘Not that I’ve ever been high in the traditional sense.’
Lorenzo shot out one of his ‘are you shitting me?’ looks. When I explained how my father never let me even experiment with fresh air, let alone drugs, Lorenzo leaned back on his stool and said, ‘No wonder you were desperate to leave.’
‘Yeah, but now I have a trial coming up and I doubt Daddy dearest fancies lending me the family lawyer.’
‘And you don’t want to ask, right?’
I smiled at Lorenzo. This was why I liked him. I didn’t have to explain stuff to him. He just got it. ‘Exactly.’
‘But still, you need a lawyer, right? Or what do they call it in court, an advocate?’
‘Know any?’
‘What, because I’m a vampire I should have all the contacts? I’m new, remember.’
I sighed and snatched the bottle, but it was empty already. Vampires drink like premier alcoholics – they burn through the stuff quicker than fire. ‘Remind me never to buy you a round at the Red Hawk. I’m pretty sure you’d drain my trust fund.’
‘You have a trust fund?’
Malachi swept into the kitchen and plonked a whole case of Tuscan wine on the kitchen counter between us. ‘Of course he does, he’s a spoilt brat who’s still whining about his family.’
‘Piss off, Malachi,’ I said. I made to grab the wine but he held me firm at the wrist.
‘Consider it my wedding gift,’ he said, nodding to the bottles, ‘from the De Laurentis’ own vineyards. Oh, and I may have the answer to your little representation problem. What do you say to hiring the top Pneuma defence lawyer in Tuscany?’
I could tell by Malachi’s super-long fangs, shooting from his gums, that he was chuffed as punch and entirely self-serving. But I’d run out of options. ‘Well, can I afford his fees?’
‘I should say so; he works free for family.’ His golden eyes bore into mine. ‘And for causes that align with the family’s interest.’
‘And who is this humanitarian you speak of?’
‘Oh,’ he said, his smile more terrifying than ever, ‘you haven’t met him. Yet.’ He left the kitchen. I listened as the front door opened and shut. As Malachi re-entered the kitchen, he stepped aside and a smaller man appeared behind him. This man didn’t stop but strode towards us, sharp and stylish in a black Armani suit. He slammed his suitcase on the counter and pulled the cork from one of the wine bottles with his teeth and poured himself a glass.
‘Good,’ he said, glancing back at Malachi, ‘you imported my favourite blood type.’
I watched in disgust as he drained the bottle I had been about to sample myself. Thank the gods Malachi stopped me, I thought. Lorenzo vacated his stool and the stranger immediately took it. ‘Took you long enough, grandchild,’ he said, ‘don’t show me discourtesy again if you wish to remain above ground.’
Grandchild? I examined the three vampires in turn. ‘No way,’ I whispered.
Malachi grinned like the Cheshire cat. ‘Theo, Lorenzo, meet my Pater Sanguinem, Michele De Laurentis.’
2
Flying the Nest
‘No offence, Michele,’ I said, pronouncing it Mick-el-ay as was the Italian way, after breakfast the next morning, sitting about as far away from him as I could without actually leaving the sitting room, ‘but surely the best person to represent me in court isn’t the head of a varmint clan of vampires.’
The latches of Michele’s suitcase snapped open, and he pulled out a bunch of paper. At first he didn’t answer, just read, his thick dark brows knitting together as he mumbled something in Italian under his breath. ‘Do I appear to be wearing a kilt? We are no clan. None of the accusations against my family have ever been proven in a court of law. You would be wise to refrain from slander.’ He snapped the suitcase shut and laid the papers on the coffee table.
‘Sure thing, Micky,’ I said. ‘Can I call you Micky?’
‘You will call me Sir.’
‘Sir Micky?’ I was trying to crack a smile on that face, but I might as well have tried to snap iron for kindling. I wanted to say, ‘I’m the bloody Gatekeeper, you wouldn’t even be alive without me, so don’t expect me to go calling you “sir”.’ But of course, he was helping for free.
‘Sure thing, sir.’ Although Michele’s skin creased around the eyes, it was smooth and brown, despite the fact I was pretty sure he was at least five centuries old.
‘Do you have the letters sent to you by the Praetoriani?’
‘I left them at home—’
‘My understanding is that you abide here now, Mr Clemensen.’
Odin, Thor, and Freyr, someone likes to keep things formal. ‘Err…I meant the family home. Hellingstead Hall.’
Michele gave me what I can only describe as one of the most intense and chilling looks of my life. ‘What?’ I asked.
‘Nothing,’ he said, his face falling back into line, ‘it’s been a while since I heard anyone speak of that place, that is all.’ He put up a hand to silence my questions. ‘Get the letters. We need them today.’
A visit to Hellingstead Hall was on the cards anyway, as I had to face Father and Uncle Nikolaj; they needed to know that my sleepover at the Old Vicarage was permanent. Besides, I had belongings to collect and an attic to move into.
‘I’ll get my coat,’ I said. I plucked my cloak from the hook in the hallway and attempted to pass Penny, who was waiting by the front door. ‘Don’t expect me to kiss you goodbye,’ I said as she stepped towards me.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Do you want some help with packing up your things?’ she asked, clearly having eavesdropped the conversation between me and Michele.
‘I’d love some help, as it happens.’
Penny grinned and opened the front door. I stopped by the threshold and called over my shoulder. ‘Lorenzo! Get your butt down here – and bring your bow and arrow.’ Unlike Malachi and Michele, Lorenzo could tolerate the sunlight, his generation being slightly more Elf th
an vampire, as we’d discovered when he was busy saving my life in Alfheim. He liked to make use of that perk whenever he had the chance.
Lorenzo zipped into view and pushed past Penny with a quick, ‘Alright, me’luvver?’ before slamming the door shut so that we stood on the driveway while she was left inside. He threw the Sarrow bow gracefully over his shoulder.
‘Just don’t shoot my girlfriend this time,’ I said.
He laughed, pushing his sunglasses over his nose. ‘Are you so sure she’s your girlfriend?’
We walked up to the front door of Hellingstead Hall and waited. Lorenzo pushed his sunglasses onto his head, his cloudy grey eyes darting about. His face took on the colour of pale grass when he spotted the entombed land-sprites through the trees, the ones that had almost churned his brain to mush on his first – unexpected – visit. ‘Don’t you have a key?’ he asked.
‘No, that would require my father treating me like an adult and showing me some trust.’
‘Shall we knock?’
‘We don’t need to knock. The wards would’ve alerted him to our presence. He’s just making a point.’ Right on cue, Father opened the enormous door.
The Descendants of Thor Trilogy Boxset: Forged in Blood and Lightning; Norns of Fate; Wrath of Aten Page 33