Struck: (Phoebe Meadows Book 1) (28 page)

BOOK: Struck: (Phoebe Meadows Book 1)
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The dock vibrated angrily at the intrusion of the extreme violence on its decking. The concrete pilings groaned as the men shouted at each other, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. There was so much noise and clamor.

I glanced around, hoping no one else noticed the uproar. There were other boats docked nearby, but they were dark. I didn’t think anyone lived on them.

“You will answer for your betrayal!” Fen raged as he threw punch after punch.

They rolled a few more times, the stranger gaining the advantage. “You will stop being pigheaded and listen. I am not your enemy.” He lifted one of his arms, and the sleeve fell back. His hand was missing. I’d forgotten that vital piece! For a man with one hand, he was holding his own.

“You were my only friend,” Fen growled, “and you became my greatest enemy. I will kill you for deceiving me!” Fen knocked him down, railing on him.

If the scarred man had been mortal, he would’ve been long dead by now.

“If you could end my life, which is doubtful,” the man grunted while he spun Fen to the ground, “you would miss out on information that will keep the girl alive.” His lone fist landed hard on Fen’s chest, the sound of rock hitting stone. “And she must stay alive at all costs.”

“Why do you care?” Fen huffed. “She is nothing to you!”

“You have that wrong. She is the key to both of our well-being.”

Fen landed a particularly hard punch, angling his fist up under the man’s chin. There was a loud crack, and the guy flew backward, sliding to a stop right in front of me.

I gaped down at him.

Fen staggered to his feet. Both men were bruised and bloody, but as I watched, their wounds began to heal. At this rate, they could keep fighting forever.

I coughed into my fist, gathering my strength, refusing to back away from this fight. “I think you guys need to calm down,” I interjected. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. We need information, Fen. Once we hear what he has to say, we can figure out what to do.”

Fen stalked forward. “We need nothing he has to offer. I will end him, then we will leave.”

I held up my hand. “No.” Fen stopped, his face flashing his surprise. I’d uttered it harshly, like a command. “I know you’re upset,” I began, “but we are in desperate need of allies. Huggie said this guy can help us. It seems like he has vital information to share, and he’s willing. We need to give him a chance to tell us what he knows,
then
you can decide what to do.”

The man stood, wiping the blood dripping down his chin away with his coat sleeve.

He was taller than I remembered, and standing this close, he was terrifying. His rancid odor wafted up my nose, and I tried not to act like I noticed. His scar was dark red and ragged, just like I remembered. Fen must have been in his wolf form when he injured him.

“I will share what I know,” the man agreed, the wounds Fen inflicted on him all but gone. For a moment, I wondered why the scar on his face had never healed. “But we should leave this place. Now that I have revealed myself, they will make haste.”

“Who?” I asked.

“No,” Fen said firmly, crossing his arms. “You will tell us here. We are not going anywhere with you.”

“You are making a grave mistake, wolf. You are just as stubborn as you’ve always been. Your time away has not changed that.”

“Before we go any further,” I interjected, “I have to know why you care about any of this. About me. Who are you?”

The man turned, examining me from the top of my head down to my toes. His thorough examination made me antsy. I rubbed my arms through my coat while I waited for him to answer.

Finally, he said, “My name is Tyr. I am your brother.”

27

__________________________

____________

M
y
brother
? Of all the things that could’ve come out of his mouth, that was the very last one I’d expected. My knees went weak, my arms pinwheeling to stop me from smacking on my backside. Fen rushed forward, steadying me, his strong arms rooting me in place.

I couldn’t find my voice. I was too stunned. The way he’d said his name sounded like
tear
, as in the things threatening to fall from the corners of my eyes right this minute. I expected Fen to start shouting and fighting with the man again.

Instead, he responded, almost in a dead tone, “So it’s true. She is the daughter of Odin.”

“Aye, it is,” Tyr answered, scratching the back of his neck. He seemed relieved that Fen had chosen to listen. “She is my half sister, and my duty is to protect her at all costs. The Norns have enlisted whoever they can find to do their bidding. They want her taken back to their realm, dead or alive. The price on her head is gold and riches like none has ever encountered. Things crafted by dark elves promising magic, a purse so heavy it would drag on the ground, you get the idea. Whatever their heart desires.”

Fen started to say something, but I interrupted. “I don’t understand any of this. I haven’t done anything but live my life. I just want to be left alone.” I was ready to shed some big, fat, ugly tears.

Tyr’s face was downcast. It seemed like he understood my plight, which made me feel a little better. “Unfortunately, our father chose the wrong path for you. One that has the potential to endanger us all. But make no mistake, it’s not your fault, sister.” It was beyond weird to hear this stranger call me that. “The only thing wrong was the timing of your birth. It was foreseen that a child born at exactly the time you were would be a catalyst, one that would drastically change our worlds forever. The Norns seek to stop it from happening at all costs. It’s their job, so to speak. Killing you because of this is legal in our worlds. Not even Odin himself can forbid them from coming after you. The only option for you now is to run and, when they come, to fight.”

I rubbed my forehead. He sounded like Fen. Just fight when the trouble comes, no big deal. The wind was bitingly cold. I had so many questions. I didn’t know where to begin. “Huggie, the raven, said that if I stay alive long enough to permanently change the timeline, the Norns will have less reason to kill me. Is that true?”

“Yes and no,” Tyr answered, his voice a true baritone, deep and low. It sounded menacing, but not like before, especially with Fen standing beside me. “When your mother was pregnant with you, an old seer came to Asgard. No one knew the shieldmaiden was pregnant, as she and Odin were not supposed to be lovers.” He didn’t elaborate, but that was a curious thing to say. Why couldn’t they be lovers? “The seer foretold of a birth that would happen in nine months. A birth that would be cataclysmic to our world. It would change things as we knew it. People took his words to heart and panicked. His predictions spread rampant among people and gods alike. All expectant mothers were sought out. The seer cleared their children based on the timing of the birth. After, we believed we’d been spared, and there was great relief. But Odin kept your mother from being interviewed. He could not bear to lose you. And being a god—and a very powerful one—he had good reason to think his child might be the one they were looking for.” Tyr smiled. At least, I think it was a smile. One side of his lip turned up. “He kept you a secret, which took great skill—as much as a powerful god has to wield. But now that you’ve been revealed, the Norns believe you to be this child. They will seek to destroy you on those grounds alone, as will many in Asgard.”

I was dumbfounded. “Why didn’t he just leave me human, then? Why did he have to strike me and make me into a Valkyrie? No one would’ve been the wiser, and I could’ve lived my life in peace!”

Tyr slowly shook his head. His navy blue knit hat was pulled down, covering dark, seemingly wavy hair. I had a feeling that if he removed his hat and took a shower, he would look leagues younger. “The spell he paid the dark elves to craft twenty-five years ago to hide you was reaching its end of effectiveness. When he went back for another, they refused his bid. He had no choice but to strike you in hopes it would give you a better chance of survival.”

“Okay…um,” I stammered. “I’m not sure what to do with this information. But at least the reason why everything in my life has been skidding downhill like a go-kart with no brakes is becoming clearer.”

Tyr seemed perplexed at my analogy. I bet they didn’t have go-karts in Asgard.

Fen’s arm tightened around my waist as he addressed Tyr. “So your father ordered you here to protect your sister? Is that why you came?”

“No,” Tyr said. “I left Asgard many, many years ago. Soon after you were sent to Muspelheim. I have not seen my father in all that time.”

“Why would you leave?” Fen asked.

“Because, my friend, what they did to you was wrong, and I let it happen. You were mine to protect, and it was a job I took seriously. I am atoning for that mistake by wandering the realms in search of answers. I’ve given up the life of a god in favor of finding ways to make things right.”

Fen snorted. “You will have to keep searching, then, brother. Things will never be right between us.”

I placed a hand on Fen’s chest. His heart beat rapidly. I knew what Tyr was saying meant something to him, but it would take him time to heal from the betrayal by one he called a friend and mentor for so long. “How did you find out about me, if you haven’t been back to Asgard?” I asked. “How did you know I was here and was about to be hunted by the Norns?”

“The raven,” Tyr answered. “Hugin tracked me down in Jotunheim and told me of your birth and the story behind it. Then the bird came to me a few weeks ago and told me what was about to transpire. I came as soon as I could.”

“You rushed to her side like a trusted brother, protecting an innocent sibling you’d never met?” Fen’s voice was harsh. “I don’t believe that. You have always been selfish, out for your own good and no one else’s, God of War.”

“Yes, that was me,” Tyr agreed, nodding. “But I come here as a man trying to atone for a life of wrongdoing.” He ran a hand over his neck. “The bird also imparted some very important information—facts that are just now coming to light. He told me that the seer was a fake, an impostor. What the seer said about the birth of a child was actually the opposite of what was supposed to happen. The raven fears that the impostor killed the old seer, and we will never discover the truth.”

“A fake?” Fen said, his voice tight. “Only a scant few can use glamour to that effect.”

Tyr nodded slowly, but said nothing.

“No,” Fen replied, shaking his head. “I refuse to believe it could be him.”

“Who?” I asked. I’d missed something.

“Loki.” Fen’s voice was as stony as I’d ever heard it. “He is blaming my father for this.”

“Your father?” I exclaimed, horrified. “You mean Loki pretended to be the seer who could’ve caused the deaths of innocent unborn children?” I had to stop and catch my breath. “That’s horrible!”

Tyr said nothing while we gathered our thoughts. Finally, he responded, “The raven believes it to be Loki. But as usual, it will be hard—if not impossible—to pin it on the trickster god who relishes in wreaking horror and havoc wherever he goes. He delights in the macabre, which you know well, friend.” He directed his gaze at Fen. “During the timeframe he masked himself as the seer, he and Odin were at war over something else. If Loki had gotten wind that Leela was pregnant with Odin’s child, he would’ve ended Odin’s happiness at all costs.” Tyr shook his head sadly. “It might be that we never uncover the truth.”

“But if we can prove the seer was an impostor,” I said, thinking quickly, “and the information was wrong, won’t that prove my existence isn’t a threat, once and for all?”

“That’s not how Asgard works,” Fen answered. “We are guilty until proven innocent. Isn’t that right,
friend
?”

“Yes, you are correct.” Tyr nodded. “The logic is not always sound, but that’s the way it had been for us for a thousand years.”

Before Fen or I could reply, there was a loud cracking noise, like a tree branch being ripped off a tree.

Tyr made a gesture to grab me, but Fen snarled, whisking me away. “Do not touch her!”

“Someone is coming, and they will be here soon,” Tyr said. “We need to leave this area immediately.”

“Who’s coming? Are they coming through a tree? Is it Yggdrasil?” I asked as we all began to run, Fen holding my hand as we made our way back to the street. I spotted the large oak that sat twenty feet away on the main boulevard. It seemed to be glowing.

“Not Yggdrasil,” Fen answered. “But it means they were granted access to Midgard by an alternate route, one that finds the beacon and takes them within closest proximity.”

“Am I the beacon?” I asked, my breathing coming in puffs of air, the cold infiltrating my lungs. “It seems that with so many wormholes, Midgard should be crawling with beings from other realms.” I was not happy. We’d barely had a chance to catch our breath since we landed. I’d hoped for more time.

Tyr was right behind us. “My guess is it’s dark elves. They would want the bounty promised by the Norns the most and have access to other routes to Midgard, including by oak trees. Greed is their way of life.”

“Can we fight them?” I asked. We’d hit a side street. It was late, but this was New York. A few blocks up, people were going to notice us running for our lives.

“Not advisable,” Tyr said. “We don’t know how many there are, and they will be armed with dark magic. It will be hard enough for Fenrir and me to best them on our own, but likely impossible for you. We can’t take that risk.”

BOOK: Struck: (Phoebe Meadows Book 1)
3.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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