Witch Bound (Twilight of the Gods) (17 page)

“Go away, Rocky,” he growled.

Ignoring that, she addressed Carly. “Would you give us a moment please?”

Carly nodded and even though Fen raised his hand to stop her from leaving, she slipped past and he let her go.

Head bowed, Fen released a heavy sigh and then faced Raquel. He wore dark jeans and worn boots, a T-shirt that wrapped the muscles in his arm perfectly. Rubbing a hand over his face, he gave her a look that was more weary than annoyed. “What do you want?”

“You can ask that?” He knew exactly what she wanted and this was his way of putting it out of reach for both of them. Forever. “Don’t do this.”

Her voice trembled and he hesitated, but only for a moment. “I’m not betraying my friend, my pack or my clan.”

“We haven’t
done
anything.”

His mouth twisted. “You think the way I look at you isn’t already a betrayal? Give Christian a chance. The two of you could be happy. If you don’t think you can make it work, I’m pretty sure they’ll release you from the contract. I won’t be the reason for it.”

“That’s it?”

“I’m not right for you. For anyone. It’s past time I accept that. And you...” He flinched. “It’s better for you too. This way you’re free to look somewhere else.”

Her blood went cold and then flashed hot. “Do
not
pretend you’re doing this for me.”

Except he wasn’t pretending. She could see that. The idiot man thought he was doing the right thing, saving her from herself.

Fen was silent for several breaths and the look in his eyes broke her heart. When he spoke, his voice was low and strained. “You deserve more. I already have a family and I won’t have children.”

“We could adopt.”

He gave her a disgusted look. “And we live happily ever after? It doesn’t work like that.”

She could see what he wasn’t saying.
It doesn’t work like that for me
,
not for a hound.

And maybe it didn’t usually work out for hounds, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t work for them. She’d been raised in a clan and was well aware of all the pitfalls that came with bonding a hound. She understood that he would be tied to his pack as tightly as to a mate—maybe more so for him because he led the hounds and because of the man he was. Fen took that responsibility seriously.

Her eyes were open. Despite all the difficulties in their path now or the ones that might lay ahead, they belonged together. From their first conversation, she felt as if she knew him, had known him forever. Every moment they spent together felt right except this one. Couldn’t he see that?

“Please,” she said, because if he didn’t understand how wrong this was, she didn’t know how to change his mind.

He picked up his coat and glanced at someone behind her. Carly, she imagined. For one moment, Fen looked directly at her and Raquel thought he might change his mind. His face was stark. The neon light that had been so kind to Carly only highlighted the hollows of his cheeks and eyes. He looked so painfully unhappy that she couldn’t help but take a step closer. He started for the door, his arm bumping her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

She thought about tripping him, knocking him over the head, spelling the door. But she couldn’t do any of those things. She’d made her choice. She had to let him make his. There was nothing else she could do to change his mind. She was right about them. What was between them was good. Truer than pacts or curses or prophecies. They belonged together. She felt that all the way down to her bones. She hoped Fen would realize it too, before he did something phenomenally stupid.

* * *

They left without eating and Christian didn’t speak until they pulled into her driveway. The porch light was on and she saw the curtain move before Christian cut the headlights. Of course, her mother would be waiting up for her tonight of all nights.

Christian reached over and lifted her hand. “I knew there was an interest. I didn’t realize how strong it was on both sides. I’ll talk with him, but I don’t know if I can get him to see sense. He can be so damned hardheaded it drives me crazy.”

“I didn’t see it happen. If I’d known it was going to...” She couldn’t make herself say she would have prevented it. She wished things were different, but not that way.

She couldn’t quite read the expression on Christian’s face, but he didn’t seem angry. “Let me go stop him. We’ll figure everything else out later.”

“Do you think you can?”

Christian squeezed her hand. “Even if Fen changes his mind about Carly, I doubt he’ll change it about taking a wife. His parents were reasonably happy, but that’s rare for hound matings. And Fen’s father was never pack leader. The clan’s expectations are hard enough to deal with. Add pack ties to that and you can see why he wouldn’t want another collar wrapped around his neck.”

A collar. Is that really how Fen saw her?

“I don’t want to collar him.”

Christian held her gaze for a long time and then nodded. “Don’t screw around with him, Raquel. He’s my friend. I won’t help you hurt him.”

“Go stop him from making a huge mistake even if you have to beat him over the head to do it. Regardless of what happens, I don’t want to see him hurt.” She blinked back tears. “Christian?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want you hurt either.”

He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her forward. A quick kiss to her forehead and then he let her go.

“We’ll talk later.”

Chapter Seventeen

At times, it wasn’t so bad. There were moments, brief and precious, that kept him from sinking into darkness. The way the blue-tinged light filtered through ice, casting kaleidoscope patterns on the bare rock. The special game he’d made of recovering Asgard’s most sacred treasures before Surtr could claim them. The peculiar triumph of escaping a pack of demons on the hunt. He knew it was dangerous to become addicted to the rush of adrenaline, but it was one of the few pleasures left to him.

He didn’t age. He didn’t feel hunger, leastways not for food. But he was slowly fading into the twilit world of Asgard, this cursed place of frozen death suspended between worlds. He’d been cast out of Vanaheimr. Rightfully so. His pride had cost countless lives. He could appreciate the justice of it, had even been resigned to accept his sentence. Exile. Death in the world broken by his hand.

But death wouldn’t come.

It would come soon though. After all these years, it crept over him inexorably as a rising tide. The cold presence at the edge of his consciousness claiming more with every breath. Surtr, in a fit of pique, had melted the ice he stood on, sealing him to the hip and binding his power with scraps of the same chain that had once held Fenrisúlfr. The chain alone would have restrained him. The ice was overkill, was, in fact, slowly killing him—though he had no intention of pointing that out to Surtr. He would die rather than let the bastard suck him dry so he could invade yet another world.

If he could spare Midgard this fate, he would. He blamed the girl for this strange willingness to sacrifice himself. She’d been such a fragile thing, dragged through the portal from Midgard by one of the sons. He’d come across her entirely by chance and some long-buried instinct to protect a child had compelled him to help her. He hadn’t been able to send her back.

When Odin cast the spell that allowed his people to live in Midgard, he’d also spelled the bridge that permitted their escape. A Vanir
couldn’t
cross that bridge. He couldn’t even be near it without every hair on his body standing on end. The backlash from what Surtr was forcing him to do was tearing him apart. It was why he couldn’t escape the ice or heal his frozen legs. It was why, after all this time, it would be something as simple as the cold that would kill him.

The crow was back. Her glassy eyes, hard and unblinking, fixed on him with disconcerting intensity. Asgardian spy. Black-winged birds had long been a harbinger of death for his kind, so he supposed it was only fitting that she should be here now. Her feathers ruffled in the stiff wind.

“Go away, stupid bird. They nearly tore you apart last time and I won’t distract them again.” Surtr had taken his anger out on him when she escaped. “One chance is all you get. I won’t encourage stupidity.”

She shifted her wings and resettled. Such a conceit of Odin’s to bespell his people to assume his various incarnations. He’d so enjoyed playing the crow. “I told you what you need to do and you didn’t bring a weapon. My own blade fell into the crevice there if you wish to retrieve it.”

He spoke to her with his mind, knew that she could hear him. Unlike last time, she replied. “I won’t kill you.”

“The sooner you do so, the safer you will be.”

“We’re safe enough for now.” She tilted her head. “Our witch has strengthened the wards.”

He laughed. There was a powerful witch on the other side. Wild and completely out of control. She’d almost destroyed not only the portal but the bridge itself. All the Æsir in Midgard would die if the bridge connecting them to their home was destroyed. Asgard would be lost beyond recovery and Vanaheimr would likely suffer as well. It was something he hadn’t considered when helping to plan the invasion. The bridges were the energy conduit that connected the worlds, but they weren’t the only thing binding them together. Odin had complicated things before his death, protecting his people but making it harder to undo the damage. At this point, anything that tampered with the delicate network of spells could be catastrophic.

One of many reasons that he would welcome a quick death.

Rather than waste time forming the words, he pushed that opinion toward the bird and she closed her eyes while she sorted through it. Why had she come back? Even with him using what little energy he had left to cause that small rockslide and distract the demon torturing her, she’d barely escaped. If her idiot clan leader had sent her back, it should have been with an order to slit Kamis’s throat.

She opened her eyes. “He didn’t send me. The woman and child you helped to survive belong to him and he feels beholden to you. The hunt plans to ride and will free you. Our witch thinks she can pull you through the portal.”

“She’s young and doesn’t know what she’s dealing with. Tell her to leave the portal the Hel alone and cut her teeth on weather magic until she learns humility.” The idea of an untrained witch with so much power terrified him, especially when she had her sights set on portal magic.

He would swear the crow was laughing at him. “She might learn portal magic from you but likely not humility. Aiden will cross. He’ll free you. Be ready for that, whatever you decide.”

And she was gone, lifting into the bruised sky and winging toward the portal. He remembered the woman, Grace—human, vulnerable, stubbornly brave. Lately, he’d had the feeling that she was trying to reach him but had hidden himself from those questing dreams.

Vanaheimr was lost to him. He couldn’t go back to his world, wouldn’t want to if he could. By now, everyone he’d ever known would be long dead and buried. But the woman and child—that brief connection he’d made with each. The evidence of love in the sacrifices the Æsir made to find the lost members of their clan. It had planted a seed of hope. Maybe instead of looking back, it might be possible to move forward, to leave his past and this place behind him and become a new man.

He had a library full of ancient texts. There had to be a way to unravel it all. To make things right. Or was that only his pride speaking? And could he risk being wrong again?

Chapter Eighteen

Raquel pulled onto the gravel road that led to Aiden’s home behind a red Explorer. She eased up on the gas pedal so she wasn’t following right in the dust trail the truck kicked up. It was a lovely day—sharp and cold but as icily beautiful as cut crystal. Tomorrow was the first of December and the forecast called for snow, but there were no clouds in the sky yet.

Aiden had called a meeting to prepare the hunt for the crossing at the full moon in two days time. Raquel was nervous about attending although she’d already met most of the hunt at her welcome party.

She hadn’t talked to Christian or Fen. She hadn’t slept at all last night. Green Day came on the radio as she pulled into the driveway and she turned it off, parking in the grass behind the Explorer. Three men climbed out just as she did, the last one was Fen.

He stopped when he saw her and waved the others ahead. Frowning, he stared as she approached. She stared back but no matter how hard she tried, he didn’t seem any different. He was still...Fen. She’d hoped that if he bonded to someone else, she’d feel it too. That their strange connection would be severed. She’d spent a lot of time last night contemplating that, waiting to feel the knife. But it was still there, strong as ever. She met his dark gaze and reached for a smile.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey yourself.” A pause and he glanced back at his men climbing the stairs to the porch. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m crossing with the hunt.”

His expression went black. “The hell you are.”

“No, not Hel technically. Asgard.” She started toward the house, knowing he would follow. He caught her by the elbow before she’d taken more than two steps. When she swung on him, he released her as if she burned. And that reflex—as if he couldn’t even stand to touch her—goaded her into demanding, “Did you do it?”

She had no right to ask and it didn’t matter. She needed to know. His lips thinned and he shook his head. “I couldn’t.”

“Thank the gods,” she whispered.

He laughed harshly. “If there were any gods left, we wouldn’t be in this position, would we?”

“I’m
glad
you didn’t bond yourself. Not like that.”

He looked at her in disgust. “You don’t understand. I said I couldn’t go through with it, not that I didn’t want to. Not that I didn’t try.”

She frowned as he walked away. What did he mean? She ran to catch up. “Fen. Wait.”

“I have to talk to Aiden before he starts the meeting.”

He jogged up the steps and reached for the door just as Christian opened it. Fen jerked his head her way. “You knew about this?”

Christian stepped onto the porch, let the door slap closed behind him. “It was Aiden’s call, not mine.”

Fen reached for the door. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Good luck,” Christian called as Fen disappeared inside the house. Turning back to Raquel, he shook his head. “I’ve never seen him like this.”

She scowled at the closed door. “Angry?”

“Yeah. He’s always been easygoing for a hound. Until you got under his skin. Like a splinter.”

She turned her scowl on Christian. “I want to help him with this, but he won’t talk to me.”

“He’ll work it out.” He smiled and in a drippingly sarcastic tone, said, “You have to give these things time, Raquel.”

She snorted. “I am sick to death of waiting.”

“He needs to make up his own mind.”

Christian drew her aside as another group arrived. He nodded at the pair of women. Raquel knew she’d met them before but wouldn’t have been able to name them if her life depended on it.

“I talked to Aiden about the possibility of changing the terms of the contract. He’s willing to release you from the marriage, if you decide that’s what you want.” He paused, blue eyes calm and clear. When she nodded, he blinked once and continued, “We’ll need to convince our parents to agree to that, but Aiden won’t release you from the terms of service.”

“You mean—”

“Either way, you’re the clan witch.”

She swallowed and stared at the closed door. “So Aiden knows.”

“Not about Fen. That part is between you and him. By the time I reached Carly’s last night, Fen was already gone.”

“He said...” She wondered if she should really be discussing this with Christian, but he didn’t seem heartbroken.

“That he’s not bound? That’s what Carly said too, but I don’t know that it changes anything for you. I want to...I’ll talk to him and tell him how I feel about it.”

“How do you feel about it?”

Christian’s eyes went a little unfocused as he considered his answer. One corner of his mouth turned up and he shook his head. “Like the wall I’ve been leaning against my entire life is gone. I don’t know how to feel about it.”

She touched his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s past time I learned how to stand on my own feet.” His smile widened and he nudged her toward the door. “You figured it out. How hard can it be?”

“You’re really okay with this?”

“I have to be, don’t I?” He held open the door for her. “I wouldn’t gain anything by forcing you to marry me. But if there’s a chance this is just cold feet...”

“It’s not.”

He nodded and they went inside. She grabbed a folding chair from the stack against the wall and found an empty spot in the living room. Christian set up beside her and asked if she wanted anything to drink. She said no, but he still walked purposefully toward the kitchen. Even from out here, she could hear Fen’s angry voice and Aiden’s deeper one.

Really, with all the trouble she caused, she was surprised Aiden wanted to keep her.

Grace sat next to her and winced when a particularly inventive turn of phrase drifted down the hall. Conversation in the room paused briefly and resumed as if no one had heard a thing.

“I’m so very sorry,” Raquel said to Grace. “Fen’s angry with me and taking it out your husband.”

“They’ll figure it out.” Grace pushed a mug into her hands. “Here, take this. Aiden bought me an espresso machine for Christmas. It’s a latte, but it’s a double. You look like you need it more than I do.”

“That bad?”

“Just worn thin.” Grace turned her chair ever so slightly, placing her back to the huntswoman on her other side who’d seemed on the verge of asking questions. Grace, Raquel had noticed, was as subtle as Aiden was direct. Right now, she cast a warm and completely guileless smile in Raquel’s direction. “I imagine you didn’t get much sleep last night. Are you having second thoughts about the crossing? Aiden was surprised you offered.”

She regretted shaking her head in denial when Grace’s warm eyes narrowed. “Did Christian do something?”

“No,” Raquel rushed to reassure her, struck by a sudden certainty that if she didn’t convince her of that truth Grace would beat him into a whimpering puddle of apology. “Christian has been great. It’s not that.”

Grace opened her mouth, closed it and then tried again. “I won’t break a confidence, you know.”

“Not even to Aiden?”

“Not if it doesn’t concern him,” she said. “Though
I
trust Aiden completely. And he is the clan Odin. This...all of this weighs heavily on him, but he would move worlds to help any one of his people.”

Like Fen and Christian. Despite all the promises and contracts, Raquel wasn’t really a member of this clan yet. And she wouldn’t put Aiden in the position of having to choose between two of his men. “I know that.”

“It’s a shame that this is interfering with your plans for the wedding,” Grace said carefully, holding her gaze. Gently probing. Raquel knew that Grace was still a licensed private investigator. She imagined she was very good at her job and not just because she was Verthandi. “If there’s anything at all that I can do to help, just let me know.”

Raquel stared.
Crap.
“He told you.”

“Then Christian did speak to you first?”

“Of course he did. I’m the one who—”

“If you think...”

But Raquel missed the rest of whatever Grace said because Fen stormed in, expression thunderous. Without looking at her, he crossed to the far side of the room. He turned his hips and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. It hadn’t gone well then. Good. Someone touched her elbow to draw her attention, but she waited for Fen to look up. He scowled at the fireplace and, very pointedly, did not look at her.

Beside her, Grace made a choking noise.

“Are you okay?” Raquel asked absently, forcing herself to turn her head.

“No,” Grace said in strained voice. “I really don’t think that I am.”

But she
looked
fine, a little flushed and bright-eyed but not in need of a Heimlich maneuver or anything. Frowning, Grace glanced at Fen and back at Raquel.

Before Raquel could ask her what was wrong, Aiden entered the room. Christian took the seat beside her and the hunt quieted. Everyone turned their attention to focus on the Odin.

“First, for any of you who haven’t met her, this is Raquel.” Aiden pointed in her direction and Raquel straightened in her chair. “She’ll be our clan witch when Lois retires. And she’ll be riding with us.”

“She’s crossing?” Rane glanced her way and, when Aiden nodded, said, “Good. We’ll need a witch to get him out. He did have a message for you though.”

The wry smile on Rane’s face told her it wasn’t a good one. “How does he even know who I am?”

“He felt you blow through the wards and said to...be careful with the portal magic. He seems to think the bridge is more fragile than we suspect.”

Raquel turned cold. She hadn’t done anything to hurt Asbrú, had she?

Rane read her expression and shrugged. “Not because of our wards failing. I told him we meant to get him out and he didn’t think that was a good idea.” Hands clasped in front of her as she leaned forward, she returned her gaze to Aiden. “He asked me to kill him again.”

“Again?” Aiden’s voice was lethal as Skimstrok.

“I didn’t—”

“You were warned.” Rane opened her mouth again, and he waved his hand in a cutting motion. “We’ll discuss that later. Raquel is coming to see if we can get him out. Grace was able to contact him
without placing herself in danger
and from what she learned, he knows more about the bridges than we do.”

“He’s not the most reliable source,” Christian pointed out.

“In this, we listen to him, especially when he advises caution. Especially after Julian’s vision.”

Someone muttered something about Norns, but Aiden continued as if he hadn’t heard. “Julian saw the bridge fall and in the vision, the Vanir witch was dead. Until we understand exactly how those two things are connected, we do our best to keep the Vanir alive. If he’s well enough to avoid Surtr on his own, we simply set him free. If we can get him across, then we do that. We have to act as if it’s a true vision and preserve the witch’s life until we’ve no other choice.”

There was some grumbling but most accepted the unwelcome news in silence. Raquel turned her head to find Fen watching her. It was news to him. She saw a flash of surprise in his eyes along with worry and regret and grief before he looked away.

“Julian won’t be reliable until he’s matured and had some training,” Elin said. “Skuld visions are notoriously difficult to interpret. It could be that the bridge falls because of something we do to protect the witch.”

“Very true. It’s a complication and another reason why we need to bring Raquel with us. She’s our insurance plan.” Aiden glanced at Fen as if braced for an argument. When Fen didn’t object, he said, “Aside from Raquel, who I’ll brief separately, you all know what to expect when we cross. We follow Rane. Raquel will pull the witch from the ice as quickly as possible. And—yes, Michael?”

“What’s keeping the witch from escaping now?”

Rane answered, “Surtr found a binding charm. I think—Kamis thinks—it’s what they’re using to drain him too. I’ve seen it through the ice, but it’s wrapped around his ankles. Probably why they froze him into the ice in the first place. They’re not manacles. It’s a black chain that doesn’t appear to be attached to any kind of lock.”

“Was it rune-marked?” Raquel asked.

Rane grimaced. “I imagine that it is, but between the color and the distortion of the ice, I couldn’t tell.”

Raquel leaned forward to see past Grace. “I have a file of pictures on my laptop of all the magical artifacts retained by the clans. There are a few that might be similar to what you’ve described. Would you mind stopping by later to take a look?”

“Not at all. I can drive back into town with you after we’re done.”

“Did he say anything else we need to know about?”

Rane shook her head, black hair stark against her pale skin.

“Grace?” Aiden looked at his wife and for an instant, Raquel saw it again—a softening in his eyes, a warmth in his voice. The Odin was a real man after all. It was almost eerie, like seeing a granite statue coming to life.

“He didn’t say much. He pushed a barrage of impressions down the link. Mostly, his acceptance of his own death, his concern for us and the bridge. There’s an image of earth and Asgard and Vanheimr connected by...threads of light. You know the one in Hallie’s textbook?”

Aiden walked over to the bookshelf and picked up a thick book wrapped in a hot-pink-butterfly-print book cover. He flipped through until he found what he was looking for and brought it to her.

Grace nodded. “That’s the one.”

Raquel recognized it. She still had the same book in her bedroom at home. She’d left it behind with her collection of dragon figurines and that well-worn picture of Christian. Grace hadn’t been raised clan, and she seemed to be searching for the right words to explain what the Vanir had tried to communicate.

Raquel reached for the book. “May I?”

Aiden released it into her hands. She scooted closer to Grace and traced the threads with her fingertip. “This, we think, is the reason why Asgard didn’t fall completely. The bridge from Muspelheim was severed, which is why the demons can’t return to their home world without help from the Vanir.”

“Which they won’t give until we’re all dead,” Grace said.

Raquel nodded. “But Asgard is still connected to both Midgard and Vanheimr. This is Asbrú, the bridge we use to cross into Asgard. It’s one bridge formed of many threads. The colors in the picture are just to differentiate between the threads, but that’s why they call it the rainbow bridge. The threads split off from the bridge to wrap our planet and anchor the bridge. They do the same to Asgard. When we open a portal to make a jump between clans, we follow one of the individual threads, not the bridge itself.”