Struck: (Phoebe Meadows Book 1) (30 page)

“Why not wait until morning?” Sam asked, pulling away from me. “Don’t dark elves hate sunlight? I thought they turned into stone or something. At least that’s what I learned in class. They forge this crazy cool stuff in their world, full of magic, but they rarely leave because sunlight cooks their brains. But maybe that’s just made-up stuff? Hey, do either of you know Thor?”

Both men stared at her like she had two heads.

I was curious to hear their answers. Unlike Sam, I never took mythology classes in college. My scant knowledge came from a passing story or two in the sixth grade.

Tyr cleared his throat, his voice deep and smooth. “You are correct. They do turn to stone in sunlight.” His expression appeared a little sheepish, but then he grinned. I couldn’t see the family resemblance at all. He needed a shower desperately, so maybe after he was cleaned up I’d see it. “Though, on our behalf, we are not exactly sure it is dark elves who hunt us. It could be another faction. We left before we saw who was tracking us.”

“It was the dark elves,” Fen said definitively. “I scented them right before we entered the building. I never forget a scent.”

“Well,” I started, “that calls for a new plan. Can we lie low here until morning?” I turned to Sam. “Is that okay?”

“It’s fine with me,” she answered. “I doubt we’ll sleep, so how about I make some coffee?” She headed toward her kitchen, but stopped just before the doorway. “Oh, and the bathroom is right back there. Feel free to use all the soap and shampoo you need. There are towels in the little cabinet to the left of the door.” She didn’t direct the missive at Tyr, but we all knew who she was talking to.

I hid my grin. Leave it to Sam to be blunt.

Tyr made a rumbling sound and reached up to scratch his neck. “I guess I could wash. It’s been a long time since I’ve bothered with such things.”

Yes, we knew.

I resisted the urge to shudder, thinking about all the buildup and the amount of scrubbing that’d have to go on to get rid of it. “Yes, that’s a great idea,” I agreed. “After this, we’ll probably be on the road for a while. Speaking of that”—I turned to Fen—“how do we know where to go? Huggie said New Mexico. Do we just head that way and hope for the best?”

Fen followed me into the kitchen while Tyr went to use the bathroom. We both leaned against the counter as Sam made a big pot of coffee. I unbuttoned my coat, but kept it on. “Once we get in the vicinity, we should pick up on Yggdrasil, if the shieldmaiden hasn’t reached out by then.”

“But how are we going to travel? Plane? Bus? Car?” I asked.

“Cream or sugar?” Sam asked as she began to pour three cups.

“A little cream,” I answered. I’d had breakfast with Fen this morning. The food had tasted fine, but hadn’t filled me up. Sam went to the fridge and took out some half-and-half.

“Is this okay?” she asked, holding it up. “I thought you liked your coffee black.”

I nodded, and she poured a shot into my cup. I lifted it and took a sip. “Ah, that’s good. I usually like it black, but I’m in the mood for a little kick. This is perfect.”

Once we all had our coffee, we talked about mundane things, like how the shoe department had fared in my absence. The answer was
just fine
. Then we wandered back into the living room. Tyr had been in the shower for a while, and when we heard him shut it off, we all quietly exhaled with relief.

“Not sure what to do about his clothes,” Sam commented. “But at least the first layer of grime is gone. Where was he living, anyway? The sewer?”

I shrugged. “Not sure. We found him on an old houseboat. It seems he’s been roaming for quite some time.” Hundreds of years.

“He never answered me about his hand or scar,” Sam said. “What happened to him?”

I glanced at Fen. It was his, or Tyr’s, story to tell. He shifted uncomfortably next to me on the couch. “I scarred his face and took his hand,” Fen replied succinctly.

My mouth dropped open as Sam sucked in a sharp breath.

“Say what?” Sam leaned forward. “You did
both
?”

“I did, and I was justified,” he answered, his face hard. “The god of war was my mentor and friend. He tricked me. Because of him I spent too long in isolation. It was small retribution.”

I was a teensy bit horrified. “I…I…didn’t know you took his hand, too,” I stammered. It seemed excessive, but I hardly knew the background between the two of them. Who was I to judge?

Fen met my gaze, no regret in his eyes. “He tied me with rope crafted by the dark elves to ensure I could not break free.” He shrugged. “His hand was near, so I took it. In my furious attempt at escape, I slashed his face with my teeth.”

“Wow,” Sam commented, sitting back. “That’s…intense.”

Fen brought a leg over one knee. “It is of no consequence. He’s a god. He doesn’t need to stay scarred. It’s his choice.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, floored by that news.

Before he could answer, Tyr came barreling into the living room. His jeans were on, and he was toweling his hair, his chest bare. He seemed much bigger with no jacket or shirt on. Huge, in fact. His muscles had muscles. I hadn’t expected him to be so buff after his dirty-bum exterior. “I keep them as reminders,” he answered. “Trouble’s coming.”

29

__________________________

____________

I
stood quickly. “What kind of trouble?” I had a hard time prying my eyes off his missing hand. Why would you choose not to have a hand? Especially when you were the god of war. Hands were handy.

“I left an alarm on the door downstairs, and it just went off,” Tyr answered.

“What does that mean?” Sam asked, fear seeping into her voice.

“It means the dark elves weren’t so easily fooled,” he said wryly. “It seems we were the fools. They have found us.”

Fen was already off the couch, making his way to the door, where he laid his head against the wood and listened. “They are not here yet.”

I almost let out the breath I’d been holding, but then a scratching sound came from the window.

All of our heads snapped toward it.

To my horror, there was a small man-creature with charcoal-gray skin and pointed ears perched on the sill. It looked like a garden gnome come to life—if garden gnomes were dark, scary, with thinning hair and large Gollum-y eyes. It grinned at us, its long fingernails skating over the glass.

It was toying with us.

A scream crept into my chest, but before it erupted, Fen grabbed on to my hand and tugged me to the door. “You must be quiet,” he cautioned, murmuring in my ear, holding me close. “That one sees us, but we don’t want it to alert its friends. We must leave now before the others arrive.”

Once we were in the hallway, we heard glass shatter.

I craned my head around in time to see Tyr drop the towel he’d been holding, hoist Sam over his shoulder, and run. Sam’s face was white with shock. I didn’t blame her one bit for being freaked out. I was pretty sure she wasn’t breathing, but I couldn’t exactly stop and ask.

The dark elf cackled as it crawled through the window, kicking out the rest of the glass as it went.

Tyr slammed the door to Sam’s apartment and tossed something onto it that he pulled from his pocket. It looked like another talcum bomb since there was a big puff of white smoke. “That should buy us a small amount of time,” he said, moving quickly. “All the spells I have are crafted from the elves, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised they are able to break through them so easily.”

We took off at a run, Fen leading us up two flights of stairs before I realized we were going up, not down. “This is not the way out!” Panic leaked around my words like a bucket with holes poked in it. I didn’t want to get snatched again. The terror of landing in another place full of horror made my legs quake. Verdandi’s lair and Surtr’s torture were still fresh. I wouldn’t be as lucky a second time.

“We must go up,” Fen replied calmly. “They will be scouring the lower levels and have left guards at the exits. There is no other choice.”

“But what are we going to do once we get there?” I didn’t
really
want to know.

“Once we’re up, we can decide. It’s going to be okay, Valkyrie.” He squeezed my hand. “I will let nothing happen to you.”

Sam lived on the fourth floor. We made it to the eighth and final floor in a short time. I was relieved no one had come out of their apartment to investigate the racket.

“Sam,” I whispered once we arrived on the top floor, “where is the door to the roof?”

Tyr slid Sam off his shoulder, steadying her with his hands. She was disoriented, clutching on to his arms. “I’m sorry, did you ask me a question?” She ran a hand up through her hair, her long blonde curls disordered from her ride upside-down. “Can you repeat it? My ears are ringing.”

I grabbed her hand, squeezing tight. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. I know this is overwhelming, but we need to get to the roof and find a way out of here. I’m hoping there might be access to a fire escape up there. Is the door to the roof on this floor?”

Sam grabbed on to both my forearms, her face a horrified mask. “Did you see that thing?” Her eyes were partially glazed over. “I don’t…I couldn’t…” She shook her head.

“
Shh
,” I soothed, stroking her arm, “you’re going to be fine. This is a lot to take in at once. I promise we’ll talk it out once we’re safe. But, Sam, I need you to focus. Where’s the door to the roof?” I coaxed. “Can you show us?”

She nodded, blinking. “Yes…it’s at the end.” She started moving, and we hurried after her. She reached a door at the end of the hall and turned the knob. “Oh, no.” She glanced back, her face pained. “I need my key!”

Fen moved to the front, edging her carefully out of the way. “It’s no problem.” He placed his hand on the knob, and a click sounded before it popped open.

“That was easy,” I murmured. “I hope the rest of this turns out to be just as simple.”

“Manipulating small objects is not an issue,” Fen said. “Especially on Midgard. Humans could have this capacity as well. They just don’t explore it.”

“Good to know,” I said. I was learning quickly that humans had a lot left to explore.

Fen slowly opened the door, pausing to listen. Roofs in New York City ran the gambit, but no one usually used them in the winter. Some had gardens and sitting areas, but I was pretty sure Sam’s apartment building just had a plain old roof.

Fen motioned us into the stairwell. It was only one short flight up to the top. I heard a puff of something and turned back to see Tyr clapping white powder off his hand on his pants. “How many of those do you have?” I asked, my eyebrow raised.

“That was my last one,” he replied solemnly. Sam was in front of him, and he helped her up the stairs, guiding her by the waist. She seemed oblivious to his help.

They looked comical together, him being large and shirtless and Sam being so petite, but somehow it worked. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought the Tyr I encountered on the subway stairs would be a nice guy. His hair was drying into long, auburn curls, and his scar even looked less scary now that he was clean. “You’re going to be cold with no shirt on,” I told him over my shoulder.

“I’ll be fine.”

Fen reached the door to outside. There was a small window, but it was dark out. “Do you see anything?” I whispered, leaning up against his shoulder.

“No, but that means nothing. They will know we must come out someplace. If they don’t have elves guarding the roof, it would be surprising.”

“If it’s blocked, how are we going to get down?” I asked.

“They would station only one here to keep a lookout. If we can take him down without alerting the others, we have a chance to escape unnoticed.”

“If we don’t?”

“We fight.”

That seemed like the answer to most of my questions. “How many do you think are in the building?” I asked.

“Hard to know,” Fen answered. “But I would think at least ten. They believe they are tracking only us and haven’t factored in Tyr. If they had, they would’ve sent fifty.”

I arched an eyebrow. “He’s that strong?”

Fen shrugged. “He’s the god of war.” He glanced past me to Tyr. “Are you ready?”

Tyr picked up Sam, who was still dazed. “Yes.”

Fen busted through the door. I went behind him. Before I could track Fen’s movements, he had a dark elf by the throat. The thing looked even worse up close. It was no taller than four feet. Its gray skin was wrinkly like a dog that had lost its fur, and its teeth were yellowed and fairly sharp—like every creature I’d seen so far outside of Midgard. It seemed the Nine Worlds were lacking in all-around good dental hygiene.

“How many are there?” Fen grated.

“You are too late,” it cackled. “We have infiltrated the building, and you will not escape.” Its voice was surprising, higher and more precise than I would’ve imagined could come out of such a creature.

Fen shook the thing disgustedly. “You will not take us today, nor tomorrow. You can tell your comrades when you see them next that the best plan is to surrender the fight.”

“Oh, it is of no consequence if we win or not,” the thing gloated, gulping for air, its long fingers scrabbling at Fen’s hand and wrist. “We hold a much dearer prize.” It gazed directly at me, its eyes widening, before it cackled again. “The ransom for your dear mother will be legendary! Much more than the paltry amount being offered for your capture. Until then,” it chortled, “we will keep her well…looked after.”