Forecast (14 page)

Kill.
Him.

Shoulders slumping, I walked to the deep freezer, but didn’t open it. Instead, I pulled down a big flashlight and flipped it on, knowing it would have working batteries because of Raven. Another thing this Ragnarok stuff had taught me was not to take her ways for granted anymore. It was time I started doing my share.

I grabbed a piece of poster board off the shelf above the freezer and hunted for another marker. It didn’t take long. My sisters and our mom stashed writing supplies anywhere and everywhere since Kat had burned her fingers.

I wrote down all three messages from the rune tempus in English.

Valkyries shadow.

Warriors’ fates to fulfill.

Giants on the march.

I had misunderstood the first one completely. There was no possessive, so this meant that Valkyries were shadowing warriors. According to the stories, Valkyries picked the strongest and best of them in battle, took them to Valhalla and basically gave them a sort of utopian way of life until it was time to bring them back for the last battle.

It still boggled my mind that I’d met one. Mist had been shadowing Magnus—had been taking him to battle.

But where? She’d said she was following music, mentioned ravens and wolves and then music again on a lake.

The second line was easy. All of us, every teen who had a god’s or goddess’s soul inside were warriors and we were all working according to our fate. Game pieces on a big board.

Giants on the march was so obvious after my vision, I didn’t have to even think about it. The giants were coming out of Niflheim. Crawling out of the ground.

But again...going where? I’d never seen either of the places in my vision, so I had no point of reference.

I slumped onto the poster board, laid my head on my crossed arms.

“Coral?”

I jumped and turned as Grim came into the garage. He’d found one of our oil lamps and held it high. I hadn’t even heard the door opening. He’d changed into dry clothes. Another pair of skinny jeans and a big sweatshirt that said
Got Bacon?
in big block letters.

“You okay?” he asked. “Taran and Josh got the stove going and we set up a heater in your living room. It’s really cold out here so you should come in. Need help?”

I nodded. “You can help me carry in the food. Sorry, I got distracted.” I pointed to the poster board. “These are all the messages I’ve received in those trances I told you about.” I grimaced. “You really were just standing outside while Taran and I were running around. I’m trying to figure out what it all means.”

He read the words, shook his head. “I wish I could help, but I don’t get anything here outside of marching giants, warriors and Valkyries.” He grimaced. “This is all really scary.”

“I know,” I whispered.

Grim nodded. “There are a lot of books in your kitchen. Maybe we can find stuff in them that will help.”

“Maybe. I’ve read most of them. Nothing they said is anything like what’s going on out there. Everything is happening at once. It’s not right. “ I shoved the poster board off the freezer and opened it. Luckily, the food was still mostly frozen because of the cold. I hurriedly pulled out a couple of the tubs of vegetarian stew I always made in batches. “I do need to go through the spell books some more and see if I can figure out who is taking Taran’s hammer and how to get it back. I’m pretty sure he’s going to need it.” And I was
pretty sure
it was my mother. It made no sense—why run around bashing in kids’ heads with Taran’s hammer when she had poison-dipped ice arrows? It was as if she’d lost her mind completely.

Again, something nudged the back of my mind. Something about her face when she’d looked at me on that mountain in the vision.

Grim took the food from me. “I’ll put all this into one big pot on the camp stove so you can change into dry clothes.”

It was like his reminder of the state of my clothes made my body realize it was freezing. I shivered.

He smiled, but it was a shadow of all his earlier sweet smiles. But then, he’d lost his home—had no idea where his parents were. His life was in as big a shambles as mine.

I impulsively reached out and hugged him. He grunted in surprise but his smile had a little more brightness to it when I pulled back.

“I’ll get out sandwich stuff for you guys, too. Kat eats meat, so there are usually cold cuts and different cheeses. I like cheese. A lot.” I sighed. “And I’m rambling because I’m tired.”

“But I get it. Cheese is the reason for life.”

He said it with such sincerity, I laughed. “Oh, you and I are going to be great friends.”

He nodded. “I knew that the moment we met.” He stopped me before I opened the door. “About Taran,” he started.

“What about him?”

“He gets angry. Well, he sort of stays angry sometimes, but he’s really a great guy. He’d do anything for a friend, but he’s had a lot of trouble at school and with his dad since his mother died.”

“He blames himself for her death.”

“Unfortunately, a lot of people blamed him. He actually overheard some teachers talking about it at school. Taran’s one of those kids who ends up spending a lot of time in the principal’s office, so they didn’t have trouble believing it.” He shifted the food in his arms. “Look, he’s prickly and difficult, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to date him, but already you have him doing something he’s never done before.”

“What’s that?”

“Talking about his mom. He hasn’t before. Ever.”

Chapter Nine

We didn’t get to the food for another hour because a couple of neighbors came by to check on me, worried because they hadn’t seen me nor my sisters in days. I knew they were also getting a look at who I’d taken in, and one neighbor, Mrs. Phillips, pulled me aside to offer her couch because she didn’t think I should be alone with “rowdy-looking” boys.

I didn’t feel at all bad about lying to her—telling her they were cousins.

The frown that pinched her ancient lips into near obscurity when she mentioned seeing my mom gave me pause.

At least now I was sure Mom had been the one to leave the front door open.

Josh chuckled as he settled on one of the sleeping bags we’d spread out on the living room floor. “That Mrs. Phillips was a trip. She called me a carrottop, then hugged that extra space heater you gave her to her chest like you’d handed her a new grandkid.”

“Maybe camping supplies will turn into the new currency.” Grim handed a bowl of stew to his brother. He started back toward the kitchen, then frowned at us. “If this goes anything like the movies, soon people will be killing for things like food and propane tanks!”

“I think we have a little time before that happens.” I sounded as if I was joking and I mostly was, but that sort of scenario was more than possible if this winter kept up. I wrapped a heavy blanket around my shoulders, curled up on the couch and inhaled the spice-heavy scent of the veggie stew. The space heater we’d set up in the living room had knocked off the chill, but the cold had claimed the house too long to give up easily. I’d pulled out all five oil lamps and lit candles on every hard surface in the living room and kitchen. Here was a time my mother’s Earth witch practices really came in handy. Lots and lots of candles. They made shadows dance in the corners of the room.

“Hey, this is actually good,” Josh said around a mouthful of food.

“You sound so surprised.” I took a bite, relishing the taste of carrots, potatoes and garlic. Every bit of food that hit my belly made me feel better.

“It’s just that stew usually means big ol’ chunks of beef to me.” Josh took another bite. “But this is cool.”

“We’re all so hungry, paste would probably taste cool.” Taran sat on the floor and put his bowl in his lap.

I didn’t take offense because he hadn’t actually tried it yet, but he must have realized how that sounded because his head snapped up.

“I’m sure this is good,” he backtracked. “It smells awesome.”

I shrugged and went back to filling the giant hole in my stomach. The boys followed my lead and we scarfed down every bit of the soup. As my body’s driving need for fuel lessoned, exhaustion crept in again. Everything that had happened sat pretty heavily on me, and as I looked at the others, I saw the same feelings in their drawn features.

Taran seemed too tired for anger—the power usually vibrating off him was missing. He finished off two bowls before settling back against the coffee table with a loud sigh. “Thanks, Coral.”

I got up to take my bowl into the kitchen and he followed with his.

“Do you feel better?” he asked from behind me. There were fewer candles in here and no space heater since I’d given the one I’d planned to use in here to Mrs. Phillips, so it felt like the shadows competed with the cold for which could make the room most miserable.

I didn’t turn as I ran cold water onto the bowls. Really, really cold water. Shivering, I gave up and left the bowls in the sink. If I tried to wash the dishes, my fingers would cramp up. Letting everything soak would have to do. “Do you mean am I done yelling?”

His snort was loud. “Hey, who am I to have a problem with that?”

“I
am
sorry, though. Takes a lot for me to lose my temper but today has kind of sucked.”

“Understatement.” His hands settled on my shoulders and I closed my eyes at the warmth. “I wasn’t really angry earlier. Just kind of surprised that your mom’s intentions are a lot more serious than I thought.

My breath fogged in the cold air as I sighed.

“You’re actually pretty cute when you yell.”

“No girl wants to hear that. Just for future dating reference.”

“I appreciate you telling me your preference. Straight-on communication between us will make this relationship so much more fun.”

“Relationship?” My heart stopped beating. I opened my eyes.

His fingers tightened—but not enough to hurt. He shrugged. “Or something. You seriously don’t think I’m letting you disappear out of my life after all this is resolved, do you?”

I turned, looked up at him. “When all this is resolved, one of us could be dead. Both of us could be.”

He shook his head, strands of dark blond hair falling into his eyes. “I won’t let that happen.”

“So you really aren’t mad at me now?”

He grimaced. “I wasn’t mad at you—not really. I wish you’d told me about the poison because I would have taken the threat more seriously. But it’s your mom, so I can understand. I promise, I’m working to lengthen my fuse.”

“I can’t wait for you to meet my sister Kat. Talk about a short fuse.”

“Meeting family sounds like maybe you’re thinking relationship, too.”

I blushed.

“I can’t wait to meet her, too.” He leaned down to rest his forehead against mine. “And I will. I’ll meet both of them. I have the protection of a witch, right?”

“Right,” I agreed, then my eyes widened. “Right! We’re here. At my house!”

“Yeah,” he drew the word out, straightening and frowning because he was obviously not following me.

Heat filled my cheeks again when I realized what I’d sounded like. Kat called my tendency to blurt things out “random thought farts.” I’d keep that to myself, though. “I just meant I have a lot of things here, at my house, that will help.”

“More peter water?” Candlelight reflected off his teeth when he grinned. “For your thresholds this time?”

I briefly closed my eyes, groaned. “I can’t believe you said that.”

He chuckled, his dimples making an appearance.

“Go ahead, make fun. This stuff works. But yeah, I’ll make more peter water and you can pour it on the thresholds
of the house
while I get stuff for other spells.”

While Taran sprinkled the saltpeter water, I gathered a few things and laid them out on the table. Josh and Grim talked quietly in the living room when he came back into the kitchen and began poking at the items on the table—small, colored bags and snarled, dark brown roots still covered in dirt because I’d pulled them from a pot.

“That’s black cohosh,” I told him. “It’s great for protection. I should probably wash the roots but the water is miserably cold.” I frowned. “I’ll knock off more dirt before I do the spell. I’m making bags for all four of us.”

“I’ve heard of cohosh—it’s herbal stuff, right? I’ve seen that in health food stores.”

I shook my head and laughed. “This is something my mom grew.”

“You want to use something your mother created? The same mother who’s trying to kill me?”

My heart stuttered because I was still unable to wrap my mind around that. “She’s not acting like herself. She only started being really weird as the snow started. That’s when she disappeared.”

“What do you mean by really weird? You told me about her manic behavior, the catatonia. What was she like other times then?”

“Kind of fun, actually. She liked to bake with me, liked rock music from the seventies and she could do really cool, small spells. We kind of had a special bond—one she didn’t share with my sisters. I think it was because of the Earth magic. Or, because I’m the more forgiving of her children.” I touched the root. “But this black snakeroot is good. For now. Nothing in our sunroom is going to last in this cold for long.

“Wait. You want to give me something called black snakeroot? Didn’t you say she’d planned to use some kind of sea snake poison? What if she’d already bought some and you only jacked the backup? Do we trust anything with the word
snake
in it?”

“Jacked the backup?” I grinned even though the idea wasn’t funny at all. “I don’t know what she’s doing, to tell you the truth. Nothing about the way she’s been acting has made sense. But you know that old saying about fighting fire with fire?”

He carried the root to the empty side of the sink and began washing it, hissing when he put his hands in the water. “So we’re fighting snake with snake?”

“We are. I’m going to coat you in protection spells.” Something nudged the back of my mind. “Oh, I have black tourmaline stones. I’ll put the stones in the bags, too. Wait. My mother has some black felt bags stored under her bed. Those will work better. The bags, roots, stones—all in black—will triple the protection.” I wanted to jump up and down with giddiness, but I managed to keep it to a slight tap dance.

Taran stopped washing the root, laid it down on the counter and wrapped a towel around his hands. He laughed. “Damn, you
are
cute.”

And with that, my sense of accomplishment faded. “There you go again with that word. I may look like a cute little kid, but I’m not. And I’m smart. I know about this stuff. I even plan to study botany in college to learn more. You may think this is all nonsense, but it can’t hurt, right?” I picked up a long strip of red ribbon, the scissors and walked to him, not looking him in the face as I wrapped it around his waist.

“It will hurt me to wear a ribbon. A ribbon, Coral.”

“No, it won’t.” I frowned up at him, then snipped the band. “I’m going to attach some of the root to this and tie it into nine knots. We’ll thread it through your belt loops. You have to put your hands on it and think about what you desire while I’m doing it, okay?”

“
Desire.
That’s an interesting word.”

I glanced up to find him looking down my shirt. I stopped moving.

The corner of his mouth went up. “Sorry. But I’m pretty sure what you think I should be desiring and what I actually am are kind of different.”

I looked down at my extra-large red sweatshirt. I’d cut the neck out so it would drape off one shoulder. I loved it because it was so long, I could wear tights and my favorite thigh-high socks. The top gaped, but I had a tank
and
a long-sleeved shirt on under it—and I was not what anyone would call full-figured. Not even half-figured unfortunately. I gave him my best “get real” look and went back to messing with the ribbon.

He surprised me when he lifted my chin, his gaze moving over my features. “You really don’t believe me. Come on, you gotta know you’re hot.”

“
Cute
, I believe you keep saying. It’s a word that makes me think of kittens.
Hot
, not so much.”

“Bull.”

My eyebrows went up and I put my hands on his chest, noting that his heartbeat under my right palm was a little fast. I looked down at my hand then back up at him when he nodded.

“You think my heart’s beating like that because you’re just cute? Coral, you are hands-down the hottest girl I’ve ever met.”

I stepped back, pulling my chin away from his fingers. The knot in my stomach had nothing to do with what he was saying and everything to do with not believing him. I’d gone out with a boy once and had found out he’d done it as a dare. He’d taken out one of the
weird sisters
because his friends had paid him to ask me. He’d called me cute, too. I twisted the ribbon in my hands, stared down at it and wished I knew how to handle this situation. I cleared my throat, hating that it felt as if I had broken glass in it. “Let’s, um, do this belt, okay?”

He shook his head, grinning so big, both dimples popped up. “Uh-uh, told you that I’m not wearing a red ribbon around my waist.”

“I’d have used black but I can’t find it and red is the only other choice.” I crossed my arms. “Are you seriously going to tell me that you care about one ribbon when it could mean the difference between life and death?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll wear it.” He stepped back into my space. “Though how a ribbon could save my life is beyond me.”

I dropped my arms, moved back, frowning when my spine hit the wall of the kitchen.

“Coral,” he said, his tone low, insistent.

I bit my lip, twisted the ribbon in my fingers and tried to step around him because everything below my waist suddenly felt like it was made of jelly.

“Coral, look at me.” He wrapped his hands around my upper arms.

I held my breath and did as he asked, lifting my chin high, thrusting it out.

Surprise had chased away the anger he usually had in his face. “You really don’t believe me. How can you not know you’re hot? You have all this long, beautiful black hair, and you may have on some strange-looking socks, but they go all the way up over your knees and make me want to peel them down to see if your legs are even half as gorgeous as they look. You have the prettiest gray eyes I’ve ever seen, and I haven’t seen you put on any makeup, yet your lips are pink and plump. Every girl I’ve ever met had to put on some kind of goop to make hers look like that.”

I licked my lips.

He groaned. “Really? Every time you do that, it drives me crazy.” He stepped even closer, his hands tightening on my arms—not enough to hurt, but enough to keep me in place. Then he leaned into me.

My breath froze in my chest.

“Lick your lips again,” he whispered.

I didn’t even think about it, didn’t even hesitate. My tongue darted out and before I could blink, his mouth was crushing mine and he made that low, groaning sound again. His tongue touched my bottom lip and I opened my mouth on a gasp. His hands cupped my cheeks, slid back until his fingers were in my hair. He tilted my head where he wanted it. It was just the kind of kiss I’d imagined. Hot, carnal and commanding, and I reached up to hang on to his forearms. I should have pushed him back, not let him just...take over...like this, but I was too busy trying to wrestle my thoughts back into some semblance of order.

And stand.

Then it didn’t matter what my brain wanted to do because my body pushed up into his, and I wrapped my arms tight around his neck. I stood on my toes so I could get as close as possible. He made that noise again, the one I was really starting to love, and actually lifted me—though I could tell it was still carefully—off my feet, holding me to the wall, pressing in with his body. Fire scorched along every part of me, made me gasp.