Dragonslayer (Twilight of the Gods Book 3) (4 page)

Her eyes flashed with amusement. “I suppose I should probably just be happy you didn’t say Shaggy.”

“You don’t look anything like Shaggy.”

As he pulled off the gravel road, Jacey reached out to brace a hand against the dash. The front of the car lifted and dipped at a bump in the road, but the rest of the quarter-mile drive was smooth enough. He parked out front and killed the engine, waiting while Jacey looked over the place. He tried to see it through her eyes. An unprepossessing two-story farmhouse with dark green shutters and a porch swing facing the front yard. It was a good, solid house, like any of a thousand across the state. Its blandness was as much a glamour as the magic concealing their weapons in the old barn they used as a training facility.

As soon as he closed the door, Aiden came around the side from the direction of the barn. He was dressed in an old Carhartt jacket and work boots. A green baseball hat on his head. He hadn’t bothered to shave that morning, and his jaw was covered with blonde whiskers.

He looked nothing like the clan leader, and he sure as Hel didn’t look like he was descended from a Norse god. Nonetheless, Jacey seemed to sense there was something different about him. The more sensitive humans sometimes could, though they could rarely put their finger on exactly what it was that made them wary. Jacey stopped walking when she caught sight of Aiden, and only held out her hand to introduce herself when Christian moved around the hood of the car to stand by her side.

Aiden listened attentively to her explain about her investigation, even though Christian had already filled him in on everything last night. When she finished speaking, Aiden rubbed his jaw and delivered the line that would give their meddling human an easy out. “If you’re looking for an animal poaching local livestock, I think I might’ve found your culprit.”

“Who?”

Aiden’s gaze flicked to his. Yeah, Christian caught it too. Jacey had said who, not what, and that meant she was thinking in a dangerous direction.

Aiden recovered quickly. “It’s freezing out here. Come on in. I can at least offer you coffee while I tell you my story.”

They went inside, and Christian was momentarily startled by how quiet the house was. Aiden had cancelled their training that morning to wrap things up with Jacey, but he’d still let his daughter, Hallie, sleep at her friend’s house last night as planned.

A few years ago, Aiden’s house was always like this—quiet and gloomy. Then Grace had showed up, a half-Æsir orphan who had no idea of her heritage. She’d thought her psychic ability made her a freak, but here among her own kind, she’d been recognized for what she truly was—a Norn, Verthandi, gifted with a second sight that allowed her to locate a person no matter how far away they were. She’d been the one to bring little Hallie home, and she’d fallen in love with Aiden along the way. Now, the house was rarely empty.

Jacey waved off Aiden’s offer of coffee, but Christian accepted a mug. Once they were settled around the old table, Aiden launched into his story of a feral dog that’d been seen around the neighborhood, scaring kids waiting for the bus and attacking the Graysons’ dachshund, which had fortunately been uninjured. Aiden had spotted the animal that morning while driving Hallie to school. Black with a short coat, tall but too stocky to be a Doberman. When he stopped for a closer look, the dog had growled at him and then stumbled into the ditch. Its gait, when it crawled out the other side, was awkward.

Jacey leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “And you have some reason to believe this dog is what’s causing the trouble?”

Aiden shrugged. “Christian asked if I’d seen anything strange. I didn’t recognize the animal, and it was behaving strangely. No one’s reported a missing pet, and this one looked rough around the edges. I would have called animal control but you’re right here.”

Christian’s phone rang, and he excused himself to answer. He walked a few paces down the hall, spoke quietly to Elin for a minute or two and then went back in to the kitchen to tell Jacey the news—their fabricated news, but if all went well there was no reason for her to ever know that.

“They found it.” He looked at Aiden. “Elin hit a dog on her way home from work. Sounds like the same one.”

Jacey was already rising to her feet. “Let’s go check it out.”

He shook his head apologetically. “It’s already gone. Fen went out to pick Elin up. He volunteers at the local animal shelter. The dog was dead when he got there, but he has a soft spot for animals and he didn’t want to leave it to rot in the ditch. Happened hours ago. After he dropped Elin off, he took it down to the shelter to have it cremated. They just heard that we were asking around about a feral animal and thought they should call to let us know.”

For a split second, he thought Jacey might call him on the lie. Her eyes narrowed and she put her hands on her narrow hips. But really, what could she say? They’d just handed her a convenient way to wrap up a dead-end case. She’d have to stay in touch with local law enforcement to make sure no new reports came in—which they wouldn’t, because the hunt would take care of the problem—and after a few weeks, she could let it drop. He could almost see the thoughts go through her mind, and after a moment, her shoulders eased.

“I’ll need the number for the shelter,” she said finally.

He already had it pulled up on his phone—well, Fen’s number, anyway. He handed over his phone and watched as she entered the number into her contact list. She asked him a few more questions about the dog, took Elin’s number too, in case she needed it, and then finally turned to thank Aiden for his help.

Once outside, they walked to the car in silence. The snow was falling harder now. Fat flakes drifted down to cling to Jacey’s knit cap and ugly coat. She had a pensive expression on her face as she stepped carefully down the slick walk to the driveway. Her pale brows were drawn together in a slight frown. She was worrying at the chapped skin on her lips, her hands shoved into her pockets for warmth. Not a dimple in sight, but she was still adorable. Sweet and uncomplicated and kind and lovely. Also, soon to be heading out of town and most definitely not for him.

“Well, that was easy,” she said as he opened her door. “If I was Velma, I’d say it was
too easy
.”

“Want to go try to pull Aiden’s face mask off?”

She grinned back at him. “I guess as long as I don’t get any other reports in, then it’s case closed.”

“Case closed.” Now that it was done, he was reluctant to see her go. “I’ll drive you back to your truck. If you leave now, you can probably beat out the storm.”

“It’s going to miss us,” she said, glancing up at the sky. “Last night they were calling for a blizzard, and this morning they changed the forecast to a few inches.”

That was Aiden’s doing too. It was a relatively minor gift—his ability to control the weather—and secondary to his calling as clan chief. Still, it came in handy at times.

“If I’m lucky, I’ll make it home before we get even that much.” She climbed into the car. “And you know what, Christian? I’m feeling extraordinarily lucky today.”

Chapter Three

Jacey called the shelter as soon as she got back to the motel, and they confirmed that the animal, a large dog of indeterminate breed, had already been destroyed. Next, she called her supervisor, a man who’d started working for the department when he was fifteen, a bazillion years ago. He didn’t particularly like her, as she embodied every change that had taken place during that time. Most positions required a college degree, at least the good ones, and it was harder to work your way up as he’d done. She was a woman, and he relished sending her out on problems that required she haul heavy equipment around. He took a keen interest any time she mentioned the name of a male friend and seemed concerned that she would become pregnant at any minute, leaving him short-staffed.

“You’re sure this dog was causing the problem?” he asked in a gruff voice, his skepticism coming through loud and clear over the phone.

Rolling her eyes, she sat on the edge of the bed. She’d already packed her things but hadn’t wanted to hit the road in case he thought of something she’d overlooked. The most annoying thing about Mark was that he was good at his job. She would have liked to have had him as a mentor, but she’d long ago accepted that it just wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m not sure it was the dog, but it’s a likely explanation. It may have just been circling toward this area. It’s pretty sparsely populated out here, and there’s a big tract of private land outside of town that’s all woodland. I have a report of this dog acting aggressively, attacking a family pet. And it’s in the right area. Am I certain? No. How can I be unless something else comes in?”

“There’s no evidence at any of the other sites?”

“Not so much as a stray feather.” She hesitated and then reluctantly added, “I didn’t get to all of them. There has been recent snowfall and some of the reports are a few weeks old.”

“I was contacted this morning by one of the local papers.” She stifled a groan as he continued. “I’m going to need you to stay out there another few days so I’m not a liar when the paper runs tomorrow with my quote about the investigation. Follow up with the sheriff to make sure there’s nothing new, and then we’ll wrap up. There’s no work for you here right now anyway, so there’s no point in rushing back. Consider it a vacation.”

She looked around the dark room that hadn’t seen an update since the eighties and sighed. After ending the call, she left a message for her roommate that she’d be another day and reminded her to buy extra cat food.

She sure as hell wasn’t sitting in here staring at the walls all night. She could stop in at McGuire’s or maybe try to find an access road for that weird patch of woods she’d seen on the aerial view of the town. She could call Christian and see if he was busy. She’d had a good time today running around town with him. Maybe he’d accept an offer for a thank-you dinner. Maybe this time they could make it an actual date.

An image of Christian flashed in her mind, cool and handsome and…who was she kidding? Totally out of her league. Besides, even if he did say yes, what could come of it? She stared at her phone for a long moment before standing and grabbing her coat.

Maybe she was a coward, but at least she could be a productive one.

Christian waited at Aiden’s house for the sun to set, the routine as familiar as brushing his teeth. It was the same way he’d spent every new moon and full since he turned twelve and joined the hunt. He usually showed up early to help Aiden ready the weapons and the horses. As the sun sank toward the horizon, people from the clan would straggle in, bringing slow cookers and covered dishes. They were all descended in one way or another from the refugees who’d fled Asgard when Surtr’s host invaded, but not everyone was blessed with one of Odin’s gifts.

Before the destruction of their planet, the Æsir had often visited Earth, giving rise to the legends about Thor, Odin, Freya. They’d been worshipped as gods by the more primitive humans they encountered. They had natural abilities that the Midgardians called magic—the ability to cross between the worlds, to shapeshift, great skill at battle, wisdom in learning and healing. Most of it was…well, not exactly gone now, but faded.

The refugees had settled all over the globe in places like this one, where the wall between worlds was thin. So long as they didn’t wander far from it, they were able to maintain a connection to Asgard and the magic they needed to survive. Those of mixed parentage could wander further from the portals without ill effect. Christian could get about as far as McGuire’s before he felt the pull to turn back. They could jump between portals on Earth. There was that. He wasn’t exactly trapped here in this small town with the same people he’d known his whole life, even though sometimes it felt like he was.

Nights like this, when the moon was new and the wall thin enough for jötnar to push through the gap—that was when he felt trapped. The hunt would ride tonight to prevent the jötnar from destroying Earth as they’d done Asgard. He was a warrior, born and trained to the sword. This was the life he’d been created to live. It didn’t use to chafe, but lately… He was restless but couldn’t put his finger on a reason why. This was the same as any other ride. Better than most in recent memory, really. Their wards had nearly fallen last year, but Raquel had them back up and running which meant fewer demons could breach the portal. Maybe that was it. Things had been shit for so long, he’d forgotten what normal felt like. Gods willing, they’d stay good and eventually he’d learn to adjust.

He walked from the kitchen into the living room, where Kamis and Rane sat comfortably before the fire. Rane glanced up as he came in, her black hair sliding over her shoulders. Most Æsir tended to be fair, but Rane was a crow. Her skin was pale but her hair was deepest black. The tips were dyed a bright purple. She’d started doing that back in the eighties to help people tell her apart from her twin sister, Elin.

“Christian, you like puzzles,” Rane said. “Who do you think Kamis really is?”

Ever since she’d learned that “Kamis” was an old Vanir word meaning “no one,” she’d been trying to figure out his true name and the reason he’d been banished to Asgard in the first place. Christian leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb and locked gazes with the old witch. “I think he’s an ancient Vanir outcast who should have been killed months ago.”

Kamis’s lips thinned into a sliver of a smile. “It’s not that Christian likes puzzles, Rane. It’s that he prefers order to chaos. The result may be the same, but his motivation is very different from yours. It’s what makes him such a very excellent soldier.”

Only Kamis could make such a thing sound like an insult.

Rane stretched her legs in front of her, crossing them at the ankle. “I still don’t understand why you won’t just tell us. You’re a member of the clan now, and we don’t hide things from one another.” Christian couldn’t help but laugh at that, and Rane shot him a dirty look. “I’ll figure it out eventually, you know. I’ve got a lot of time on my hands.”

“Not tonight, you don’t.” Christian pushed away from the wall and crossed the room, stopping to pull Rane to her feet. He looked at Kamis. “Are you coming too?”

Kamis shook his head. “I plan to return home. Hallie wishes to watch a show about talking cats. She’s staying with Raquel and I tonight.”

Aiden’s daughter liked the old witch, but Christian supposed that was only natural considering that Kamis had protected her from the jötnar when she’d been trapped in Asgard. They’d formed a bond. Or maybe she just liked that he could zap popcorn without using a microwave.

Christian nodded. “Have fun with that.”

Once outside, Rane left him to change to her crow form, and Christian went in search of Aiden. It was a brisk night, still and cloudless. The stars were especially sharp in the black sky, and his breath puffed out in little clouds. He passed the saddled horses waiting patiently in the yard. Eventually, he found Aiden seated beside Caleb on a rough bench outside the training barn.

It was Caleb’s first hunt. He’d been begging to come along for the last two years, and Aiden had finally given the okay at his birthday party last week. The boy had looked a little green at dinner that night, but seemed to have recovered just fine. When Christian reached them, Caleb looked up and smiled. “Aiden’s letting me use his father’s sword.”

Christian glanced at Aiden, whose gray eyes glinted with amusement. “It was just collecting dust.”

Caleb stood, and Christian clapped him in the shoulder. “I wouldn’t get used to the feel of it. Hallie will likely challenge you for it in a few years.”

They followed Aiden toward the gathered group. The hounds had all shifted and now paced restlessly at the edge of the group, keeping to the shadows cast by the pole light at the edge of the driveway. Most of the huntsmen and women were already mounted. Elin perched on the corner of the barn, and Rane circled overhead.

Christian waited until Caleb was in the saddle before whistling to call Skadi to him. He mounted and drew his blade. Through the leather, the hilt of his sword was warm beneath his hand. A Skimstrok blade, it was attuned to him and to the magic from the land of its creation now seeping through the fault as the dark moon rose. Christian could feel that magic as a pressure against his skin, though he’d never had a gift for manipulating magic. The power flowing through the fault was from Asgard, his true home, and it spoke to the part of him he normally had to keep locked up tight.

As they moved forward, he found himself breathing a little easier. Elin took to the air to join her sister. Both of them began to fly in the direction of the portal. Fen called to his pack with a long, wavering howl, and the hounds surrounded the huntsmen. A moving shield of fang and claw, the hounds were the hunt’s first line of defense against the jötnar. The huntsmen were the second, catching the creatures that broke through, killing them and then running cleanup to dispose of the bodies.

Aiden drew his sword. The fine runes covering the blade blurred together until the entire surface glowed with a blue fire. Christian no longer felt the chill in the air quite as sharply or the restless anxiety that had weighed so heavily on him only moments ago. There was only the hunt. The trickle of energy from the fault swelling to a flood that saturated every cell of his body with magic and strength.

The hunt picked up speed, racing through the woods. By the time the first demon sprang through the portal, Christian was grinning with anticipation. Raising his blade, he tensed his thighs to urge his mount forward into the fray.