Dead Wrath (A Valkyrie Novel - Book 4) Page 11

  From my vantage point high in the sky, I saw where we were.

  The Grand Canyon.

  I pointed myself in Loki's direction and sped toward him using the air and my body to dive fast. I watched as he landed on top of a rocky outcropping and turned to see me land. He held a hand up to me, disappeared, then reappeared with a very disoriented Thor at his side. Thor stepped forward, lost his balance, and sank to his knees beside Loki.

  I said nothing.

  "Well, aren't we going to make a trade?"

  "Not yet. I know what will happen if I give you the spear now. You leave and I have miles to fly with a god who is in no shape to even move. I glanced at Thor again and frowned. "What have you done to him anyway?"

  "Never mind him. Just give me the spear." He held out his hand as if that were all it would take.

  I stared, he waited, and he didn't like the stalemate.

  Then he threw his hands in the air. "Fine. What do you want?"

  "Take us to the nearest Bifrost entrance. Then you get the spear."

  "Fine," he said, clicking his fingers.

  When I blinked, we were back on the ledge again, with Thor on the other side of Loki. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

  He shook his head, annoyed, then pointed a finger past me. "See. Bifrost."

  I turned my head and immediately saw the shimmering doorway. I sighed. "Fine. Then I reached for the spear, pulling it from its sheath. It was short so I shook it until it lengthened and the sound of metal song echoed around the canyon.

  I handed the spear to him but was reluctant to let it go. He grabbed it and tugged, but I didn't budge. "Now who is playing games, sister?" He sneered.

  "Fine," I said and let go of Gungnir. Loki grinned and raised the sword, pounding it on the stone ledge three times. He didn't pay me any attention when I grabbed onto his wrist. On the third stamp, lightning flashed from the peaceful bright blue sky and thunder grumbled so loudly the canyon walls began to vibrate, sending small rocks and dust crashing into the ravine below.

  Loki coughed, then tried to swallow. A strange look crossed his face, and he put his free hand to his throat. That was when both he and I saw that his skin was turning grey as stone. He coughed again and stared at me, his eyes wide and furious. The words he gurgled were unrecognizable. I kept my hand on his wrist, watching as he slowly turned to stone.

  His body stiffened, and I took my chance and grabbed the spear. Loki growled, but it came out more like stone scraping against stone. A strange noise. I shook the spear and it contracted as Loki tipped over and fell into the ravine. I jumped, thrust my wings open, and glided down, following the progress of the solid stone Loki. A murky river crawled at the bottom of the ravine, and I made a face.

  I'd hoped for a crash landing. Crash and shatter.

  Instead, he hit the water with a splash, then disappeared beneath the brown surface.

  I shook my head and turned, flying back up to the ledge.

  Thor was gone.

  I swore loudly, the violent sound echoing over and over around me. I knew I shouldn't have trusted him. The Thor I'd seen was most likely an apparition. A projection of the real Thor who still remained wherever Loki was holding him

  I peeked over the side and sighed.

  'Til we meet again, brother.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I stamped the spear three times onto the ledge and felt myself pulled into nothing. Moments later, I appeared at the Brooklyn pipe, only to jump straight into the shimmering entrance to the Bifrost.

  I arrived in the gloom, shadows enveloping me, surrounded by trees, and right beside a headless woman. It took a moment in which my heart beat triple time, to accept that the woman was indeed a statue. Headless or not, it was not a pleasant experience. I saw Enya straight ahead open her eyes and yelp when she noticed the statue. She slapped her hand over her mouth. I tried hard not laugh.

  It didn't take too long to figure out we were standing in the middle of a cemetery. I'd arrived behind Aimee, and when she saw me, she gave me an odd look. I frowned at her and gave my head a tiny questioning shake. She reached out and ran a finger across my cheek. The pad of her finger was red with dust from the canyon.

  When she raised her eyebrow, I said, "Long story." And she just snorted.

  "What a strange place," said Siri, staring around her, then up at the small dull patch of darkening sky above our heads.

  "This is Old Barnes Cemetery. Its been abandoned since 1966," said Derek, a sad note in his voice.

  "Who in the world would abandon a cemetery?" asked Aimee in disbelief. She wrinkled her nose when she looked at the ground between our feet, littered with cigarette butts and used condoms. She looked and gave a disgusted shudder. "I'd like to get out of here please."

  "You and me both, girl," I said, stepping gingerly away from the offending trash.

  "This way," called Derek, already a few yards away moving between broken headstones and more headless statues.

  We hurried after him and I wasn't sure if I was more disgusted or saddened. We walked over the graves of hundreds of people, and my team was probably the most respectful of its visitors in a long time. I shook my head at the sadness of the abandoned cemetery as I emerged behind Derek onto the side of a road.

  "How far do we have to go?" I asked, concerned that our band of strange people carrying heavy bags might draw undue attention. It didn't look like we were in the busiest of areas, but I was still concerned.

  Derek hurried across the street, calling over his shoulder, "Follow me. It's not far. No point in calling a cab or anything." He kept moving, glancing over his shoulder from time to time as if checking if we were all present and accounted for.

  We followed him up wet, glistening streets lit by buttery light from the homes we passed. We walked along an endless row of houses that sat cheek-by-jowl. Red brick, pointed white roofs, and little white doors set into a shallow porch. Derek opened a low iron gate and hurried up the slick path of the house at number 14 Forest Dell, waiting only seconds before the door was opened. A camera hummed from the corner of the front entrance, clearly why the door opened so fast for Joshua. They must know him well enough. Another little fact I picked up was the glamor that shimmered around the black camera. I was impressed.

  "Oh, hello, hello. Let's get you lot out of the rain." A man's cheery voice boomed from the hall inside the house. I was about to respond that it wasn't raining when I heard the patter of raindrops on the already wet cobblestones. I glanced over my shoulder to see the rest of the team equally flummoxed.

  We were ushered inside by a well-meaning, fussy old man who offered to take our coats but didn't look offended when we said no thanks. He looked like someone's grandfather, silky white hair covering his head, skinny wire-rimmed glasses, and a tweed jacket with elbow pads. He made me want to take him to one of the sofas in the front room, cover his knees with a warm blanket, and offer him a cup of hot tea.

  "Come, come. I'll take you to HQ. I'm sure you don't want to waste any time," he said before shuffling off down a long, incredibly narrow passage. At the end of it, he opened a door that led onto a flight of stairs and down to a lower floor. I'd noticed a set of blacked-out, barred windows below street level and figured that was where we were headed.

  Beneath the house was a set of offices not unlike the New York HQ, just as clean and businesslike with cubicles and computers and equipment suitable for any decent HQ. He led us to an office midway down the central aisle, and only then did I became clear that London HQ occupied the basements of at least two of the houses on the row. I assumed they would own the house next door as well. Brilliant idea.

  I followed the old man inside the office and watched in surprise as he strode around the desk and sat in the chair. Only when I squinted at him did I see the faint glow of the einherjar on his wrinkled hands and on the papery skin of his pale cheeks. I had never seen an einherjar this old before, but having seen Brody's transformation, I didn't question it.

  It t
ook all kinds.

  He grinned at me, teeth flashing, then waved his hand at a vacant chair. "Welcome to London, Brynhildr," he said as he beamed at me, apparently thrilled to meet me. "Erik rang to say you were on your way."

  His thick English accent brought back memories of my childhood, filled with the smell of the pipe-smoke, of shadowed libraries and stone fireplaces, of stories told to me while I snuggled on my father's lap and watched the flames flicker in our fireplace. A childhood long gone.

  "And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" I asked, a soft smile curling my lips.

  "Ah, you have to excuse me, my dear. I have forgotten my manners. I must be getting old, I fear." He leaned forward and said, "I am Professor Iain Brosnan."

  "Thank you for giving us such a pleasant welcome." I reached for my bag to dig inside for my file. "How soon can we get eyes on McClellan?"

  "Ah, my dear. Your reputation precedes and it is accurate, might I add."

  I laughed softly. "So what reputation is that?" I already had an idea what he meant.

  "One of tenaciousness, my dear," he said cheerfully. He had a nice, kind demeanor, which seemed oddly placed in a man in charge of covert ops. I couldn't help but return that smile and then I waited patiently, deciding not to mention the Scottish lord again until Iain was ready to tell me. The last thing I wanted was to insult his hospitality. He watched me over the top of his wire rims, then let out a short laugh. "Very well, my dear. I do have some information for you, but I'm not entirely sure how you will take it."

  "Why is that?" I asked, my eyes narrowing on the old man. I'd trusted someone once before and got burned for the effort and I've been wary ever since. These days it took a while to gain my trust. "It's only surveillance so far, isn't it?"

  "I'm just not sure you will find the method of surveillance to your liking," he said as he reached into a file at his elbow to withdraw two gold engraved envelopes. "I have everything ready. Our Scottish lord is holding a ball at his castle and we are of the mind it would be the ideal place in which to observe your host and verify if he's being controlled or possessed. This is the invitation I have procured for you."

  I was taken aback yet oddly impressed at how fast he'd worked. Super efficient. "How in the world did you manage to get an invitation so quickly?" I asked. "We didn't rob anyone, did we?"

  He chuckled. "Should we have to rob someone, we have ways of doing it so well the victim would never know." That sounded ominous, and when I raised my eyebrows, he said, "Fortunately, nobody was robbed. This time. But everyone and everything is connected these days, including things like guest lists. If one has a hacker or two in one's employ, one can procure pretty much anything."

  "Including deadly viruses?" I asked, my stomach suddenly hard.

  His cheery disposition faded and he looked away and sighed. "Unfortunately, it does look like Loki may have a few very smart minds on his payroll. I wouldn't put it past him to have hired his own computer genius as well."

  There was an uncomfortable moment in which I wished I'd kept my mouth shut. Then I cleared my throat and said, "So when is this party?"

  "Tonight." That was the last thing I expected him to say, but he paid little attention to my startled expression. "It's being held at the castle. The invitations are for two couples. It was the best I could do on short notice. Who will you be taking with you?"

  That one I had to think about. "Myself, Joshua, Edrik and Siri." My choice now firm in my mind.

  Iain frowned. "You will take a warrior with you?" he asked, a worried look on his face. "He does not have glamor. How will he hide himself in case you fall into trouble?"

  I smirked. My bag was not full of stuff for nothing. I'd brought Tarnkappe, the cloak of invisibility, with me and figured Joshua could use it if needed. I also had my little trump card. Or rather, trump spear. In an emergency, stamp three times. I stifled a giggle. "Leave that to me. Oh, and we'll need the hacker to come with us."

  Iain nodded. "Already in the plan." He got to his feet, then clapped his hands together softly. "Now let's get started." He rounded his desk and hurried out the door, looking over his shoulder as he went, as if to ensure I was following.

  I followed.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  While I'd been in with Iain, the rest of the team had procured seats at nearby desks while Aimee, Enya, and Siri had commandeered a sofa that sat conveniently beside a coffee machine.

  As we neared the girls, Iain said, "Bring your agents who will be going with you."

  "Siri, Edrik, Joshua. With me," I said as we passed them. They followed, giving me curious glances but saying nothing.

  We went down the passage and to the left, when Iain stopped and opened a door that led into a room that looked more like a clothing boutique than a room in a basement somewhere in London. To to be more specific, it resembled an overstocked boutique. Floor-to-ceiling shelves contained hatboxes, handbags, and shoes, while the entire floor was lined with racks of clothing. A woman who'd been sitting at the desk just inside the door shot to her feet, pulled the sleeves of her pale-pink cardigan to her wrists primly, and gave me a cool once-over.

  I bristled at the critical look. An expression that was likely to change if I unglamored my wings and let them shiver behind me.

  Iain's voice broke through my thoughts. "Edna here will help you find something suitable." Then he glanced at Edna and said, "It's McClellan's ball, so go formal and elegant."

  She gave him a respectful nod, then turned to me even before her boss looked away. He merely smiled and walked off as if she hadn't been in the least bit rude. She studied me again, so thoroughly I could have sworn I felt her sharp blues scraping across my skin. She was well put together, pearls at her neck, black slim-line skirt that reached her ankles, pale blond hair piled into a French knot at the back of her head. She looked like a snooty librarian, and I had to admit she scared me a little.

  At last she huffed. "Turn around," she instructed, her voice clipped and cool. Although I was tempted to walk off and look for something myself, I controlled the urge and obeyed, reluctant to tempt fate without knowing what the punishment would be if I didn't. After few moments of silent inspection, in which she studied the proportions of my back, and in which I squirmed uncomfortably, she sucked in a breath. It whistled as if she'd pulled air in through the gap in her front teeth. Then she stalked to the far end of the room, pointing a finger at rack after rack, mouthing words I couldn't hear.

  I met Joshua's gaze, but all he did was roll his eyes and stare at the now empty aisle. From within the densely packed aisle I heard her say, "That will do," her voice actually sounding pleased.

  Okay, I thought. It will merely do? I began to worry now, hoping she was planning on dressing me in something decent. Maybe one level up from a brown paper bag.

  Her heels tapped the linoleum floor as she returned bearing a silver plastic suit-bag. Attached to it was a sheet of paper probably describing the garment. Stapled onto the paper was a photograph of the dress. One I didn't get a chance to see because Edna swept past me, leaving a trail of her perfume behind. Something elegant and expensive and, of course, perfect. I made a face. "Come," she instructed, crooking her finger at me. I gritted my teeth and followed as she led me to a set of change rooms at the back. "Put this on. I am pretty certain it will fit perfectly."

  She hung the bag on the hook inside the little room, then turned on her heel and left. I stared after her for a moment, taken aback at her lack of courtesy. Slightly annoyed, I entered the room and shut the door. I removed my coat, armor, pants, and boots, then grabbed the zipper, suddenly terrified I'd catch the garment up and damage the fabric. That was my kind of luck so I made sure to be extra careful. I breathed deeply. Unzipped the bag slowly.

  And almost fell over.

  It was truly the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life. And nothing like anything I'd ever owned or worn. Navy beaded silk shimmered in the weak light of the dressing room, like the midnight sky peppered wit
h diamond stars. I stared, mouth hanging open. Then I stared more, a hand covering my mouth.

  A knock startled me out of my dreamy haze and I cleared my throat and said, "Yes?"

  Edna's voice filtered through the closed door. "I have found a pair of shoes to match. I'll just slide the box under the door." I looked down and seconds later a shoebox came zooming past my feet so fast I had to step aside so it wouldn't hit me in the ankles. I was still so filled with amazement that I couldn't summon up even an eye roll at Edna's behavior.

  I bent to the box and gasped as I opened the lid. Nestled in sheets of white tissue paper, a pair of navy-blue high-heeled court shoes shimmered with a silver sparkle. They looked to be made to go with the dress. Perfect.

  Slipping my feet into them, I had to give Edna credit for having a damned good eye. The shoes fit perfectly, making feet I'd always thought to be too long and crooked look beautiful.

  Then I admired the length of the dress before slipping it off the hanger. I unzipped it, then slid into the folds of fabric, shimmying the silk-lined dress down my hips. It settled on my body and fell in waves to the floor, the rich satin of the lining teasing my skin softly.

  I zipped the dress up the back and faced the mirror. The neckline plunged in a deep V ending between my boobs, showing more than I normally did, but right now I didn't care. If I thought about it too long, I'd probably be wishing for bigger boobs. Instead, I turned to the side and studied my reflection. The straps of the dress curved around my neck in a halter fashion. I glittered from top to toe every time I moved, the dress luxuriously beaded and as a result incredible heavy.

  I'd tied my hair at the back of my neck before the start of the mission and could just imagine how it would look all curled and teased for the evening.

  Amazing.