Forecast (18 page)

“Well, Stark wasn’t my friend.” He leaned in to kiss me.

I wanted to kiss him, but I really wanted to brush my teeth first, so I pulled back and turned a little away from him. “I hate to bring this up, but I’m running out of propane and this house is going to get really, really cold.”

“We’ll have to go to mine and see how bad it is. That woodstove works really well.” His mouth turned down, worry darkening his eyes. “I can’t believe my dad hasn’t called.”

“You should tell him you were worried when you see him next.”

“He won’t care about that.”

I sat back. “You’re wrong about your dad. I don’t think he blames you for anything. Maybe he did once, but now all I saw was the two of you being stubborn and not communicating. Maybe your guilt keeps you from seeing the truth.”

He shrugged. “Maybe.” He hugged me. “My house will be warmer if the wave didn’t ruin everything. We don’t have a lot of firewood, but maybe my hammer will take down a tree or two.” He lifted it. “There’s a sort of connection I’m feeling with it. And a power—kind of like a zap of energy. I have a feeling I could take down buildings with it.”

Josh came into the room looking worried, his red hair stuck up in spikes all over his head. “My brother can’t cook. I don’t know what he’s thinking. You might have to go help.” He chuckled. “And tell us more about the gargoyles and peter water.”

I groaned. “You are all gonna just run with that one constantly, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” He picked up the wrapped hand and the thorn. “I’m taking this stinky thing outside.”

I scrambled off Taran’s lap and walked into the hall, planning to grab another layer or two of sweaters, but someone banged on the front door.

“Taran?” The man’s voice sounded panicked as he rattled the door. “Taran!”

“Dad!” Taran yelled as he ran past me. He was at the door so fast, I blinked. As soon as it opened, he took one look outside, then launched himself through the opening. I hadn’t realized how worried he’d been about his dad. I should have. Tears pricked my eyes again when I walked to the door and saw the look on his father’s face as he hugged his son close. Surprise followed by such happiness and relief, his sharp features softened.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Grady said, barely loud enough for me to hear.

Josh followed us into the living room, stopped and grinned. “I’ve been hoping to see something like that for years.”

Taran let go of his father, cleared his throat and stepped in. A slight flush darkened his neck and cheeks as he glanced at me. Dirt streaked Grady’s jeans and heavy tan parka, covered part of his face. Some of it had even dried in clumps in his hair. Ragged exhaustion darkened the skin under his eyes.

“I looked for you most of the night. Warner finally found me this morning and told me where you all were. I already had your address from the car accident and following you home.” He looked at Josh. “Your parents are okay. Frantic, but okay. I told them I’d get you and take you to their hotel—that’s where your mom and dad went.”

“You can come in, Mr. Breen,” I said. His coat looked dry, but snow coated his boots and jeans up to the knees. “It’s a little warmer in here. For now anyway. I can make you some hot tea before you all go.”

“I thought I told you to call me Grady, and I would love some hot tea. Let’s shut this door to conserve your heat. You’re lucky to have it. A lot of people suffered overnight.” Expression bleak, he stepped inside, instantly making my living room seem small. I wondered if Taran would fill out like his dad. Not that Taran was small—he had nice muscles. I’d felt them all against me last night.

I went completely hot then, thinking about that while standing in front of his father. Ducking my head, I walked into the kitchen. “Do you prefer black tea or something better like chamomile?” I asked over my shoulder.

“Is that a trick question?” I heard him ask Taran.

“Should we tell her you probably don’t know what chamomile is?”

“Your mother drank it. That’s some bad, bad stuff.”

They stopped talking, and I hoped the mention of Taran’s mom wouldn’t slow their bonding because it had obviously been a long time coming. Too bad it had taken snow and giant waves to make it happen.

I stopped in the middle of the kitchen and frowned at the pile of chopped vegetables in front of Grim. He’d mixed a black-streaked, overripe avocado in with items I was pretty sure he planned to cook in oil since there was a thick puddle of it in a skillet ready to go outside.. “Um, Grim,” I started.

“Dad really prefers coffee,” Taran said from right behind me.

I jumped because I hadn’t heard him following me. “We don’t have coffee. Mom thought it would stunt our growth.” I turned and twisted my hands together. It hit me that his dad was here to take him home or to a hotel or something. The thought of being alone in this freezing house made my chest hurt. But we had other things to worry about. I glanced around Taran to make sure his dad hadn’t followed, then spoke in a quiet voice. “I’ve been thinking about your birthday—the way your eyes glowed this morning and how you said yesterday that you felt stronger.”

“And?”

“Eighteen would be a good age to come into all your power. The number nine held a lot of significance to the Norse gods, so readying you for battle at eighteen when it’s doubled makes sense. We just have to figure out what that giant meant by magic water.”

“Maybe she was talking about the magic your mom used to get my hammer and the water was about the storm surge.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I think we need to be somewhere magical today. Probably later during twilight. A gloaming meadow would be best.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Me neither,” Grim muttered as he kept chopping vegetables.

I closed my eyes, because all the thoughts swirling in my head probably made me sound ridiculous. I sighed. “Look, I’ve read a lot of things about myth and magic, and something that comes up a lot is that power is enhanced in places of magic. Our Norse ancestors believed in that so much, they had sacred areas of land. I’m thinking that giant, who was trying to help us with the glove and the staff, was also trying to tell us that you need to be in a magical place at your birth—like the exact time of day you turn eighteen. When is that?”

“A little after eight tonight.”

“Twilight.” It was the time of day when magic was at its most powerful. “Or it would usually be twilight if this was a normal summer. Maybe we need to get there earlier.”

“Coral, where?”

Rubbing my temples, I realized I had the beginning of a headache lurking. “Let me just make your dad some tea before you guys go.”

“Hey.” He turned me to face him, left his hands on my hips. “There is nothing in this world or, uh, any of the Norse worlds that would make me leave you alone right now. Nothing.”

“Aw,” Grim said.

Taran reached past me and smacked him on the back of the head.

I cracked up. “I can take care of myself if you have to go. But we’ll have to meet up later. Somewhere.” Shaking my head, I moved away from him and grabbed the small container of sugar we kept in the tea cabinet. “I
will
figure this out.”

“Wherever it is, we’re staying together. All day. Who knows? You might need to rub me with oil again if my hammer disappears.”

“Oh gods. Taran.” My heart stopped as I remembered. “The hammer! Where is it?”

His face paled and he spun around.

We ran into the living room only to come to a fast halt. Grady Breen stood in the middle of my living room, Taran’s hammer in his hand.

Chapter Twelve

“Dad.” Taran held up his hands. “You have to listen to me.

“I saw this locked in evidence myself.” Grady’s stare held something that ripped into my gut like a knife. It had to be shredding Taran.
Horror.
His father was looking at him with a mix of horror and devastation. “How is this here?”

Taran’s throat moved as he swallowed and his voice when he spoke sounded rusty. “You’re not gonna believe me.”

“Try me.”

“There’s a lot more going on here than you understand.”

His dad narrowed his eyes. “Really.”

Taran walked toward his father. “Mom was right. About everything.” He lowered his voice. “You know the stories as well as I do and it’s all coming true. Right now. The snow? The wave?”

“The giants,” breathed Josh. He stood by the front window, his face draining of color right as a thunderous crash sounded from outside.

“What?” I asked, startled.

Grady Breen beat the rest of us to the window. “What the—”

“There’s more than one.” Josh put his palms on the glass. “And they’re nothing like the one we saw last night.”

The house shook, the tea in a mug on the coffee table sloshed, and I was reminded of that scene in
Jurassic Park
when the T-Rex walked through the jungle. Taran and I stared at each other and I could see the acceptance settle on his face as he realized what he had to do. I held my breath, feeling the power rolling off him in waves of electricity that made the hair on my arms stand.

His dad must have felt it because he turned his shocked gaze from the window to his son, and I saw a flurry of emotions pass over his features until it all faded into a mix of determination and acceptance. “Your mom was right about all of it. I can’t believe it.” He shook his head, then squared his shoulders as another crash sounded from outside, followed by a woman’s terrified scream.

Grim came into the room, carrying the glove and the staff.

I quickly handed Taran his coat. He didn’t look away from me as he slid his arms in the sleeves. I stepped close, zipped up the coat and stood on my toes. He leaned down so our faces were even. Swallowing the fear gathering in my throat, I searched for the right words, but all I could think to say was, “Don’t die.”

The corner of his mouth went up and he cupped my face and kissed me. He took the glove from Grim and slid it on. Grady made a strangled noise in his throat when the glove shrank to fit Taran’s hand and forearm.

Taran frowned at the staff. “I don’t want both hands full. You keep it,” he told Grim. “Just in case.”

Grim nodded, clutched it to his chest.

Taran turned toward his father and held out his hand for the hammer. “I’m going to need that, Dad.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m going to let you go out there with this silly roofing hammer and fight those...those...” He choked, looked back out of the window. “There are three of them.”

“Dad.” Taran placed his hand on his father’s wrist. He didn’t say anything else, just stared. Grady looked at him, his features going slack. I knew he saw the shimmering eyes, knew he had to be feeling the sort of electrical current pouring off his son—waves of power that caused goose bumps. Grady handed him the hammer, then pulled the gun from his holster. “Thor’s soul or not, you sure as hell aren’t going out there alone.”

Taran lurched to hug his father, then ran out of the front door.

There was the squeal of metal and another crash. I rushed to the window just in time to see the mailbox belonging to the neighbors across the street thrown into their house like a javelin.

Josh looked at his brother. “We have to go out and fight.”

Loud shots made all three of us squeeze closer to the small window. Taran’s father ran into the street, firing at one of the giants. This one, a male, had white hair that had been raggedly cut off at his shoulders. He roared as small wounds appeared on his shoulder and neck and began to bleed. He ran at Grady.

Taran jumped in front of his father and swung the hammer as the giant bent. It hit his chin with a loud smack. The giant reeled back, his eyes opening wide in shock.

“We can use this staff.” Grim met my gaze and then his brother’s. “We have to try.”

Someone else screamed, and I glanced outside to see one of the giants hurl a green SUV into a porch. Taran ran at the giant and swung his hammer as the creature reached for him. The crunch of fingers could be heard over all the other noise—even inside. Roaring, the giant pulled back his hand and shook it. He used his other to snag a woman into the air, her long blond hair dangling as he held her upside down.

Josh stared at the staff. “We can take turns. Tap out when we get tired.”

Grim nodded.

“Hold on,” I told them. “Let me get you two the protection bags. And not a word, Josh. Just humor me.”

The little black sacks filled with cohosh root and protective stones were still on the table. I carried them back into the living room, handed one to each.

I felt ridiculous handing them small magic protection bags when they were fighting creatures with fists the size of tires, but I didn’t know how else to help. I racked my brain, trying to come up with anything I could use. All of the spells I’d studied were meant to help, never to bring harm. I flashed onto the vial of snake venom in my coat.

The one I’d left at Taran’s house.

Someone screamed outside, and I hurried through the door and stopped on the porch, horror momentarily freezing my limbs. The female giant had picked up a man and thrown him over the house next door. Grady Breen, cursing loudly, reloaded his gun and fired at her. She winced and swiped her free hand in the air as spots of blood appeared on one cheek and shoulder. She growled and stomped toward him, but Josh and Grim rushed her. Grim swung the staff and it made a snapping sound as it hit her shin. A fire-red welt appeared on her skin and she wailed and reached for him.

He jumped out of the way and hit the back of her knee with the staff. Her leg buckled, her knee landing in the snow. Grim rushed her, swinging the staff wildly.

Taran fought one of the two male giants. He swung his hammer at his knee and the giant snarled. The second male, slightly smaller than the other two, dashed at Taran. Taran turned and brought the hammer down on one of his feet. The crack let me know he’d broken bones. The giant squealed and punched Taran. Snow flew out in a wild arc as Taran hit a snowdrift. I ran to him, sliding into the snow on my knees.

“You okay?”

He nodded and jumped back into the fray, running, leaping and swinging his hammer into the thigh of the bigger male giant. The hammer broke skin and blood sprayed out over the snow. The giant fell, clutched his leg, then tried to catch Taran with his blood-covered hands. Taran batted each grab with hard, heavy swipes of his hammer.

More people came outside to watch and a lot of them stared at Taran...at the human boy who was doing more damage to two giants than the two boys and adult were doing with the third.

I looked back at the female giant as she grinned. Long white hair swung as she halted. I followed her gaze.

Grady had run out of bullets. Not that they’d been doing much good. But it was all he had. I didn’t even have a weapon—had never felt so helpless in my life.

The female giant took a menacing step toward Grady just as Josh grabbed the staff and slammed it into the back of her knee, hitting the same spot his brother had. She cried out and fell with a huge crash onto my neighbor’s roof, her head taking the brunt of the fall. She didn’t move after that.

Taran cried out and I instinctively ran toward him. He was pulling himself out of another snowdrift when I reached him. Blood covered his clothes. I gasped and started searching for a wound.

“It’s theirs. It’s giant blood.” He bent, tried to catch his breath. “They bleed a lot.” He rubbed his chest, winced. “That last hit hurt.”

I shook my head. “This isn’t working. We have to do someth—” I broke off and screamed as a hand like a vise swept me high into the air. The tallest male giant had picked me up, and I struggled and kicked, but couldn’t budge the thick, cold fingers that wrapped me shoulders to ankles. He pulled me to his face and a wave of body odor and putrid breath hit me. I gagged. “What, they don’t have baths or toothbrushes in Niflheim?”

The giant paused with my words, lifted one white eyebrow high. His eyes were bigger than my hand and the color of the amethyst I’d given Taran.

He began to speak and though his movements had been slow, his speech was not. Like the giant we’d seen the night before, he spoke in Old Norse and fast, so I could only pick up a word here and there. He talked of Niflheim and Svartalfheim and again spoke of daughters and darkness.

Taran let out a bellow that rivaled the shouts of one of the giants. They went still as the sky darkened and a low rumble of thunder shook the earth. A gust of wind picked up snow, swirling it all around us as Taran ran through my yard, leaped onto the hood of Officer Warner’s Jeep, then launched himself in the air at the giant who held me. He grabbed a handful of white hair, swung around and slammed his hammer into one of the amethyst eyes.

I squeezed my own shut and cringed when it popped with the most awful, wet sound. Blood spewed everywhere. The giant screamed so loud I cried out because I couldn’t cover my ears. He tightened his hand and I gasped, saw stars.

“Call your power!” Taran yelled as he slammed his hammer into the giant’s legs. Then did it again. “Other people are running out here and I need to help you!”

“It won’t work.” I tried to yell, but my lungs couldn’t get enough air. The giants had moved during my
rune tempus
. I gasped again, dizziness making the world spin in a way completely different from my
rune tempus
. “Verthandi,” I whispered my norn’s name for the first time in my life. “If you ever wanted to help me, now’s the time.”

This warm glow blossomed in my chest, easing the pain in my sore lungs, then flowing out into my limbs. It felt as if Verthandi surged into my entire body, and for a moment, I shared Raven’s fear. My sister had spent her life terrified her norn would wipe out her personality. For an instant, I tasted that rusty terror on my tongue. Then as the warmth spread and made every part of me tingle, I realized my norn had just wanted me to accept her fully. It was what all the norns wanted from us. They’d been with us from birth.

They loved us.

The tickle started in my throat, and I knew as I gathered as much air as I could that when I let it go, I could make the world stop. And it did. Everything began whirling around us, faster and faster. I didn’t shut my eyes this time—I stared into the remaining eye of the giant squeezing me, watching anxiety spill into that gaze.

Taran yelled, jumped up and smashed his hammer into the giant’s arm so hard he let me go.

Taran slid under me right before I hit the ground, cushioning my fall. “You okay?” he breathed as he rolled me off him and stood. He pulled me to my feet and once again put me behind him. He faced the two giants still standing, his hammer out and ready. I sucked cold air into my starved lungs over and over, until it began to feel as if spikes were stabbing down my throat and into my chest.

Everyone else around us stood like statues. Neighbors, in midrun, frozen in statues of shock and fear. Grady crouched near the legs of the female giant—who still wasn’t moving. I couldn’t see Josh and Grim. The wind had stopped. I glanced up to see the scary, dark rolling clouds had come to a standstill.

“Please stay near me,” Taran said over his shoulder, his dark gaze hurriedly running over me as if to make sure I was okay before he faced the giants.

One clasped his arm above the elbow—the part below dangled as if his elbow had been completely crushed. Blood poured from his destroyed eye and from different hammer-inflicted wounds. He’d lost a lot of blood, his already-pale skin so white now, it blended with the snow. The other giant, the shorter one with shoulder-length hair, lurched a step toward Taran, his purple eyes narrowed as he dragged his mangled foot. A wound on his side bled in a steady, morbid stream down his hip and leg.

Taran lifted his hammer.

I couldn’t breathe. Terror locked my knees, but I forced myself to take a step back. If I held on to Taran, he wouldn’t be able to fight. He couldn’t be worrying about me. I had nothing to use against giants. All I had in my arsenal was knowledge of freaking herbs. I made a vow that if I got through this, that would change.

Dark eyes pierced me as Taran looked over his shoulder. “Please,” he whispered. “Stay close to me.”

The giant with shoulder-length hair and the broken foot suddenly snarled and jumped toward us. His purple eyes narrowed on me as he tried to reach over Taran’s head. His finger brushed the top of my head. I screamed and dived to the side because the look on his face let me know he wouldn’t be lifting me in the air to look at me—he planned to rip me apart. He tried to grab me again, and I rolled on to my back, crawling backward in the snow. Pure fury, laced with fear, blazed from his gaze.

He was afraid of me.

More than he was of Taran.

Taran yelled again, jumped in front of me and the next swing of his hammer took one of the giant’s fingers off. It sailed into the air, landing somewhere past where the female giant still lay. He screeched, loud and long, then backed into the other creature, so fast and hard, they both went down.

I screamed, thinking they were going to land on the others, but they hit the ground next to Grady, sending a wave of snow into the air. Taran ran and grabbed his father, setting him safely away as one of the giants crawled to his hands and knees.

Shock sent me scrambling to my feet when he crawled and came for me again.

He should have stood. Taran smashed his hammer into the side of the giant’s head. His eyes rolled back and he crashed to his side and lay still.

The last standing giant used his one good arm to get to his feet, then reached into the house across the street and tugged the female giant loose. With one arm still useless, he clutched the woman around the waist, stared hard at Taran, then me. He spoke, his words half-muffled through his labored breaths. All I caught was
finna
and
end.
He was saying we would see each other again.