Dark Devotion: Dark Series 3 (22 page)

He grunted as he shifted his arms again. The tendons in his neck bulged with the effort, but he was only causing himself more pain. Growing more and more agitated, he tried to stand up, a strangled cry bursting from his throat. Taer watched on helplessly. “Aubrey, please, listen to me. Loki’s not here. I can help you, but you have to calm down.”

More tears fell, her own helplessness adding to her personal pain at watching the man she loved work himself into a frenzy. He was hallucinating. He thought Loki was still there in the house. She did her best to soothe him, but nothing she said was getting through. She tried to place her hands on his shoulders, but that only agitated him more. He bucked in his seat, throwing her back. She stumbled over her feet, landing backwards into the workbench. The tools rattled, their combined sound terrifying her. Aubrey became stock-still, his shoulders tensing up.

“No. Please, no. Don’t hurt her. Do whatever you want to me, but don’t hurt her. I beg of you!” His strained voice rang with both conviction and anguish. “Loki,
please
.”

Taer sobbed as her heart broke for him. Had he been damaged too much? Would she ever see the Aubrey she once knew again? Turning her back on him, she stared at the wall, drawing in a few deep breaths. She had to get him out of here. She didn’t know whether Loki was coming back, or when. Perhaps he was already back in the house, and all the noise they were making was alerting him that she was down here. She had to move quickly, but with Aubrey acting the way he was, she couldn’t see how.

That was when she noticed it on the bench: a syringe already loaded with a clear substance. It must have been dislodged when she bumped into the table. She picked it up. With no idea what was actually inside the barrel, she was taking a huge risk.

But what other choice did she have?

Aubrey was still thrashing in the chair when she turned back around. She jabbed the needle into his neck and depressed the plunger. In an instant, his whole body went slack and his head slumped forward once more. Dropping the used syringe to the floor, Taer picked up the hack saw and started cutting the chain once more. It only took her a matter of minutes to free him, but that was the easy part. Now she had to figure out how to get him out of there.

Carefully taking one of his arms, she drew it over her shoulder and lifted him. He weighed a lot more than she thought and her legs buckled under the pressure. Repositioning him a little better, she turned toward the stairs and started the ascent. Every muscle in her legs was protesting, but she ignored it all.

“Just get to the front of the house,” she told herself. Once she got there, she would get to the courtyard and she would continue to give herself small goals. By the time she reached the courtyard, though, she just couldn’t handle the weight anymore. For a fleeting moment, she thought about reaching out to Korvain, but he wouldn’t come – not for Aubrey.

Jostling his body to one side, she reached for her cell phone and unlocked it. She tapped into her contacts, scrolling through them, trying to find a likely ally, when she saw a name she hadn’t personally entered. Biting her lip, she hit the call button.

“Taer,” Cash answered smoothly on the other end. In the background was the sound of people laughing.

“I’m calling in the favor you owe me.”

Her demand was met with silence. Finally, he said, “What can I do for you?”

Odin yanked at the bottom of his suit jacket and stepped off the curb. He looked around at the revelers walking the streets of Boston. Every single one of them was unaware of what was happening, unaware of the stakes. The line outside the Eye was probably snaking around the corner, but he barely spared it a glance on his way down the darkened alleyway. Stopping at the steel door, he raised his fist to knock. A mechanical whir sounded above his head, and he looked up to find the security camera moving. He gave a tight nod in the direction of the CCTV and stepped back from the door.

A moment later, light spilled out as the door swung open, landing on the ground at Odin’s feet.

“I was wondering how long it would take for you to come here,” said Bryn.

He gave her a warm smile. “We need to talk.” She stepped back from the door. “Thank you,” he said with a nod.

Inside Bryn’s office, he took a seat, unbuttoning his jacket and crossing his legs at the ankles. After shutting the door, Bryn walked around her desk and sat down, pulling open one of the drawers.

“Drink?” she asked, showing him the bottle of 42 Below.

Even though the last time he asked the question, he was given an icy reception, he still said, “Got any cognac?”

She gave him a tight smile and picked up the phone. She punched in a few numbers. “Mist, we got any” – she covered the speaker with her hand – “What do you drink?”

“Courvoisier.”

“Courvoisier? Yeah. Can you bring it back here please?” Bryn hung up and took two glasses from the drawer, placing them next to the vodka. Odin was surprised she was being so civil. The last time he’d been there, she’d been combative and hostile. Perhaps she had seen the error of her ways.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Bryn said. The door opened. It was Mist. Her eyes darted between him and Bryn quickly.

“All-Father,” she said softly. “What are you doing here?”

“I—” he started.

“I invited him here in the spirit of cooperation,” Bryn said, speaking over him. He glanced in her direction and raised an eyebrow. She didn’t acknowledge him at all. Instead, she stood up to accept the bottle from the other Valkyrie. “Thanks. That’s all for now.”

Mist nodded slowly after staring at Bryn for a long moment. When they were alone once more, Bryn poured them each a drink and picked up Odin’s glass, handing it to him. She perched on the edge of her desk, crossing one ankle over the other.

“I must say, I’m pleasantly surprised by your behavior, Brynhildr.”

She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Like I said to Mist, I invited you in in the spirit of cooperation.”

“And reconciliation, also?” he asked, taking a shallow sip from his glass. The cognac trickled smoothly down his throat.

“Something like that.” Bryn watched him over the rim of her own glass. “Why did you come here tonight, Odin?”

He had decided before he’d even arrived that he would tell Bryn the truth about his visit. He could lie to many others, but he still struggled to do so with Bryn. Leaning forward, he placed his glass down on the desk, purposefully taking his time to turn it around so the logo of Odin’s Eye was facing out. Bryn’s blue eyes darted to the glass and then back to him.

“I have some bad news.”

“You always seem to be the bearer of bad news.”

He started to loosen his tie, but stopped himself. “Loki is coming for you again.” He paused, waiting for her shocked response. When she did nothing more than look at him, he continued, “For the past month, I’ve been watching him. I followed him to Chicago. I watched him play with the lives of the humans, but I couldn’t understand why. Whatever his motive, I knew it would lead back here.”

“And to you,” she added.

He nodded. “He came back to Boston, but I have a plan. I found out how to kill him – to make sure he could never attack us again.”

“How?”

“He can be killed by a true blood relation.”

She placed her glass of vodka beside his drink. “Well, that makes him invincible, as I see it. His children would never turn on him.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought also. But I discovered that his son, Fenrir, fathered a child while in his human form. The boy survived to adulthood.”

One of her pale brows rose. “Loki is a grandfather?”

“He is.”

“How did you find this out?”

Odin gave her a reproving smile. “Brynhildr, truly, you ask this of me?”

She grunted. “So, you found the chink in Loki’s armor. What good would that information be if you don’t know who his grandson is?”

He brushed some lint from the bottom of his trousers. “It’s more than a chink. I’ve exposed his throat.”

“And how do you suppose you’ll get Loki’s own flesh and blood to become the weapon to kill him?”

Odin sank back in his seat, resting his elbows on the armrests and steepling his fingers together. “It was surprisingly easy, actually.”

“You know who he is? You’ve spoken to him?”

“Yes.”

Bryn’s brow furrowed and she stood up, walking out of his line of sight. “You lied to him.”

There was disapproval in her voice. He didn’t like to hear it. He sighed. “It was a means to an end, Bryn.”

“Yes, everything seems to be explained away as ‘a means to an end’ with you,” she replied softly.

He shut his eyes briefly, wounded by her distaste for his actions. She couldn’t see that everything he did was for her. “It was necessary.”

“Again, a phrase that you seem to use excessively to excuse your actions.”

He bit the inside of his cheek and let the comment slide. “The reason I came to speak with you is to tell you that the grandson failed. Loki killed him. Tonight. Which means that time is of the essence. We need to leave.”

“
We
?” she shot back incredulously. She walked back to her desk, and Odin could see that her eyes were red. Had she started crying? “I don’t know how I’m a part of your plans.”

“Bryn, please, you don’t know this, but we’re indisputably connected – irrevocably bound together.”

“Oh, I know about that, Odin. I know that your life and mine are intertwined.”

He tried to keep the shock from his face. How had his greatest secret become known to her?

“Loki told me when he imprisoned me,” she said. “He told me that if I die, you die. It’s as simple as that. Everything you have done in the name of ‘protection’ has been a falsehood. You’re a self-absorbed sonofabitch, and I’m ashamed that I served you so loyally for all those years.”

“Bryn—”

“No!” She was trembling now, her face twisting into a fierce scowl. “Enough of the lies.” She marched around to the other side of her desk, producing a backpack. Upending it, something bloody landed on the desk’s surface.

Odin sat forward to get a better look as the object rolled, finally coming to a stop directly in front of him. Loki’s unseeing gaze seemed to penetrate him, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the dismembered head. For so long he had wanted this, and now that it had finally happened, he wasn’t sure what to say, what to do.

“How?” he croaked.

“Rhys killed him.”

His head jerked up. “
Rhys
was here?”

She nodded. “Yeah, Rhys –
Loki’s
grandson
.
He came here hoping to locate you. He needed more information on where to find Loki. You obviously intervened at some point, and …” She sucked in a breath. “Mav went with him.”

“When did this happen?”

“No more than half an hour ago.”

“He’s dead,” Odin whispered to himself. He could feel the triumph starting to bubble up in him. He was finally free of Loki. He wouldn’t have to look over his shoulder anymore; he wouldn’t have to wonder whether an attack was coming. He felt so light – all the weight, all the fear, had been taken away. He looked up at Bryn, smiling broadly, but the Valkyrie’s expression was dark.

“Mav went with him to find Loki,” she repeated.

“And they did find him,” he replied. “Clearly.”

“Yes, but at what cost?”

He was puzzled. Where did cost come into the equation? Both he and Bryn were still alive. Nothing else was important.

“She’s dead. Loki killed Mav.”

Odin wasn’t moved by the news. Maverick had joined his service only at Bryn’s request. If he had had his way, he never would have let the girl be resurrected. He would have done anything for Bryn – would still do anything for her. “Sometimes people get killed in wars.”

Bryn’s jaw jumped. “This wasn’t
her
war. It wasn’t any of
our
wars. It was
yours
, Odin.”

He brushed her comment off with a shrug, reaching for his drink again. His eyes lingered on Loki’s dead eyes. “Sacrifices have to be made.”

Bryn hadn’t been the only one to lose people. He had lost his wife. He had lost his son. But he would sacrifice them all again if Bryn could live.

“Yes, they do.”

The air seemed to shiver then. He turned to look at her. She had summoned her golden sword. “What are you doing?” he asked blithely. She had made threats against him before, but she could never go through with it. She loved him too much.

“Something I should have done a long time ago.”

He stood up, laughing. “What do you plan to do, Brynhildr? Strike me down here, in your office? What possible reasons could you have to harm me? I have saved you from the threat of Loki. I alone have made it safe for you, for us.”

Her free hand clenched into a fist. “You don’t get it, do you?” she spat. “None of this would have happened if you had just taken responsibility for your actions. Months ago, when Loki first came for you, you could have stopped him. But you were a coward, too conceited to see that you were the problem – not the solution.”

He waved his hand through the air, pushing away the very notion. “None of that matters anymore. It doesn’t change the fact that Loki is now gone from our lives.”

Silence settled on the room, and Odin could see Bryn was coming to see his point of view. Her expression lost its hard edge and she actually smiled a little.

“You know what? You’re right.” She lowered her sword hand and he nodded.

Leaning forward, he picked up his glass and took another sip, enjoying the lingering flavors of vanilla and caramel after he swallowed. “I knew you’d come to your senses.”

He turned his head when something caught his attention – light reflecting off something shiny and metallic. “Bryn?”

She raised her sword.

“Bryn!”

The last thing Odin saw was the look of satisfaction on his beloved first Valkyrie’s face.

*

The momentum of Bryn’s swing twisted her body around. Straightening, she looked over her shoulder. Odin’s body was crumpled on her office floor, his head lying about a foot away from his neck. She hadn’t needed to be so brutal with her strike – a mere graze would have killed him – but all her anger and hurt from seeing Maverick’s limp body cradled in Rhys’s arms had demanded that she make Odin’s ultimate death more dramatic than just a scratch.

The room was silent with the exception of her harsh breathing and the occasional buzz as the CCTV screens changed views. She didn’t know what she would feel when she finally struck down Odin, but the giddiness bubbling up inside her seemed out of place. Should she even be happy he was dead? Shouldn’t she be mourning his loss, or feeling guilt for murdering him in what was cold blood? He was her father, after all. She shook her head.

“No, he wasn’t your father,” she said aloud. “He killed your paternal father. He was just a poor stand-in.”

Calling back her sword, she picked up the phone from the desk and punched in the necessary numbers to get Korvain.

“Bryn, what’s wrong?” he asked.

She cleared her throat. “Odin’s just been to see me.”

“What did he want?”

“He came to ask me to leave with him. He didn’t know Loki had been killed. He was fucking blind to what was going on. He was simply trying to protect his own ass … again.”

A growl vibrated down the line. “If I could, I’d kill that bastard myself.”

“I’m afraid I beat you to it,” she said hollowly.

There was a beat of silence before Korvain asked, “What did you say?”

She looked at Odin’s body on the floor. “He’s dead. I killed him.”

The connection cut. Bryn placed the receiver back into place and sat down in her office chair. She watched the door, knowing that Korvain was about to burst through it. As she waited, she thought back to the conversation she’d had with Odin. When he’d said he’d found Loki’s grandson, everything seemed to click into place: Rhys could turn into a wolf because his father was Fenrir, Rhys could follow Loki because they were related by blood.

Her gaze jumped back to the door when the handle of her office door was lowered. Korvain stepped into the room, his dark eyes taking in the bloody scene. They quickly turned to her.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Her smile was shaky, but she already felt better for having him in the same room. “I’m fine. He didn’t even see it coming.”

He studied her face for a long time before getting down onto his haunches to get a better look. “Nice work,” he murmured. Standing up, he asked, “What are we going to do with the body?”

She stared at Odin for a long minute. “We’ll burn it.”

*

Standing on a beach on Plum Island, just north of Boston, Bryn cleared her throat. She, along with Korvain, Mist and Kara, were standing there with the calm North Atlantic at their backs and the shadowed moon lighting the water. A few feet away was the funeral pyre they had all helped to build in order to give Mav the goodbye she deserved. They’d placed Maverick’s body on top of the wooden structure, each of them whispering their final messages to the Valkyrie who’d been such an integral part of their group for so long.

Bryn nodded at Kara, signaling her to start singing a prayer in the old language. It was haunting to listen to, making goose bumps break out on Bryn’s skin. The lapping waves behind them complemented the halcyon quality of Kara’s voice. Along with the salt spray, the smell of smoke surrounded their little gathering and Bryn looked around at the remaining Valkyries standing in a half circle around Maverick’s funeral pyre. With Eir back at the club, tending to the wounds of Taer’s friend Aubrey, it left Mist, Kara and herself to remember Maverick.