Dragonslayer (Twilight of the Gods Book 3) (5 page)

Chapter Four

The next hour passed quickly. It was a small surge as far as things went, and not many jötnar were able to cross. Those that did come through the portal were eliminated quickly by the hounds. The pack dragged the disorientated creatures down to the frosted ground and used their powerful jaws to snap their necks. When any of the jötnar managed to slip past the hounds, the huntsmen were there waiting with their bare Skimstrok blades gleaming in the darkness.

Caleb was jittery, and Christian remained at his side, watching to make sure the boy didn’t leave himself exposed. Only fifteen, he was already three years older than Christian had been when he started riding with the hunt. But then, Christian’s father had started training him at birth. He’d always assumed that his son would be a huntsman, hadn’t even waited for the Norns to confirm it. Christian had been working with a sword for years before his official naming ceremony.

But, Caleb…he’d actually
had
a childhood and he was frightened. Still, he held it together, keeping his weapon steady as a jötunn leapt toward his horse’s flank. He didn’t so much as flinch as he made contact, slicing a clean line through the thing’s throat. The jötunn twisted in the air, spinning away from Caleb directly into the path of Ben’s snapping jaws. Another demon darted behind Ben and into the trees. Christian signaled to Beth to keep an eye on Caleb while he turned his horse to follow.

It was dark, and Christian knew the woods better than anyone. It wouldn’t take long now for the hounds to take care of the remaining demons, and there was no point in risking any of his hunters’ necks on the slick trails. And, of course, he couldn’t take the risk that the jötunn would get away. The Æsir were careful to make certain none escaped. They had to be. Not that the demon would survive long in this world, a few weeks at most, but that was long enough to cause a good bit of damage, especially if it was discovered. A dying jötunn was what Aiden suspected as the mysterious predator Jacey had come to identify. Weak and alone, an escaped jötunn might choose to avoid the Æsir and go after more vulnerable prey until it regained its strength. But, because the jötnar were tied to the Æsir as tightly as the Æsir were tied to the fault, it would only be able to run so far before it started to die. Like a ball tethered to a pole. A bullseye.

As a working theory, it made sense, though Christian wasn’t quite as certain as Aiden. The timing was off. Jötnar were ensorcelled to hunt Æsir. Surely if one escaped into the world, it wouldn’t have avoided them for quite so long. Jacey said they had reports going back for several weeks. A jötunn
shouldn’t
have been able to survive that long. Not even one of the higher-level demons.

Dismissing the puzzle for now, Christian leaned down over his horse’s neck to avoid the branches as he tracked the fleeing creature. It ran low to the ground, powerful thighs propelling it forward as it ran on all fours. A thick tuft of hair covered its spine. It would be nearly impossible to see on a night of the new moon if not for the way its blood burned orange, tracing a network of fiery lines beneath its thin skin. Its eyes glowed the same color. This was a lower jötunn. The higher-level jötnar walked upright and were more human in appearance, but those rarely crossed over. He’d never been sure if the higher jötnar were truly shaped differently or if it was a glamour that allowed them to change form to make communication easier between their species. None of the scholars now living had ever been able to give him an answer. There was so much of the old lore that had been forgotten over the years, so much knowledge lost with the destruction of their home world.

The creature took a sharp right turn, angling toward the lake, and Christian had to circle wide in order to avoid an old oak tree in his path. He could afford to give it a little leeway. It wasn’t getting away from him. The lake was surrounded by a large swathe of woods, and beyond that were miles and miles of Æsir-owned farmland. There was a dirt path that would get you a little ways into the trees, but from there the best way to make it down to the lake was on foot or horseback. Aiden’s was the closest farmstead, and no one of Æsir blood would venture into the woods on the night of a new moon. No one…

The sound of a woman’s scream made his head jerk up and nearly sent him tumbling off his horse.

Cursing, he slowed and watched the jötunn stumble as it heard the sound too. Before either of them could react beyond that, a hound split from the trees. With lightning speed, Ben landed on the jötunn’s back, tackling it to the ground. Icy leaves flew into the air as they skidded several feet and began to struggle.

Christian was torn between wanting to step in to help Ben and his curiosity over who the Hel had made that noise. Before he made up his mind, there was another scream. There was nothing but pure panic in the sound. It pierced his eardrum and sliced right down his spine. There was no way he could ignore it. With one last look at the jötunn now pinned beneath Ben, Christian turned his horse. Ben could handle the jötunn and the woman, whoever she was, likely could not.

He raced through the trees back the way he’d come and then turned away from the portal. There was a trail here, little more than a deer path, but up ahead, not more than a mile away, was the access road where anyone might have driven into the woods. None of the Æsir would have done so on the night of a hunt, and that left only one other possibility.

Christian knew who it was,
who it had to be
, even before he saw her—little Jacey Morgan. Alone and defenseless, trespassing on Æsir land on the night of a dark moon hunt while there were monsters prowling the night.

His heart nearly stopped in his chest when he came out of the woods into the open clearing and spotted her, wearing that oversized coat and slowly backing away from the jötunn stalking toward her. Christian kicked his horse forward and adjusted the angle of his blade, aiming to position himself between Jacey and the jötunn. It would be close. Too damn close.

What the Hel was she doing out here?

When he realized he wasn’t going to make it in time, he shouted to distract the creature. The demon hesitated, lifting its head and rearing back slightly onto its haunches to meet the new threat. Orange eyes flicked toward Christian, and the creature nearly somersaulted backwards in a sudden mad rush to escape. One human woman was apparently not worth the risk of facing down an Æsir huntsman armed with a blazing Skimstrok blade.

They weren’t stupid, fire demons. Even low-level grunts like this one possessed a basic sense of self-preservation. Panicked, the jötunn slipped in the snow, which gave Christian enough time to close the distance. Bending over the neck of his horse, he removed the thing’s head in one clean slice. The demon dropped to the snow in a black heap, and almost immediately the orange glow of its blood began to dim.

“Fuck.”

His fist clenched so tightly around the hilt of his sword that the metal bit into his flesh despite the leather binding. His horse’s sides heaved with every drawn breath, while Christian’s own breath seemed locked in his chest.

For a moment, he considered just riding on, returning to the hunt and forgetting he’d seen Jacey out here at all. There was a chance she’d keep her mouth shut without his interference. Most people would find a way to convince themselves that they hadn’t seen the impossible, and Jacey was smart. She’d have to know that filing a report about monsters in the woods would cost her a job. Bringing her in to face Aiden would force everything out in the open and place her life at risk. If she got in her truck and drove away, if she kept her mouth shut, then there’d be no reason for Aiden to send anyone after her.

On the other hand, if she didn’t keep her mouth shut, she would endanger the whole clan. And he couldn’t very well leave the corpse of a jötunn for her to inspect. She’d already seen through the glamour—the spell that would, under normal circumstances, make a human see a gun or a stick rather than a sword. Or a feral dog rather than a demon. A glamour was only a suggestion, though. If a human looked too closely at the object under glamour, they’d see through it eventually. Adrenaline decreased the effect, along with certain kinds of mental illness. Jacey had been out here tracking a potentially dangerous animal. He wondered how close the jötunn had been able to get to her before she realized it wasn’t a dog. The memory of her scream still echoed in his brain.

A faint glimmer of light flashed from within the depths of the black woods ahead. The hunt called to him, the magic making his body hum. He remembered the way Jacey had looked at him that morning, with warmth and attraction. It had been the first normal conversation, untouched by pity or suffocating concern, he’d had in almost a year. As soon as he turned around, her opinion of him would change. He’d never see that look on her face ever again. But what the fuck did it matter when he’d never expected to see her again anyway?

It didn’t.

With a flex of his thighs and subtle shift of weight, he circled his mount around to check on her. He’d make sure she was okay, and then he’d do whatever was necessary to make sure she kept her silence.

Jacey was still clinging to the tree like a child hugging her mother’s leg. When she saw him approach, she straightened, her eyes widening with shock and then confusion. Her gaze drifted over him, taking in the horse and his armor before fixing on the sword. The tip was angled toward the ground in a lowered guard, but her face still drained of color and she took a step back. When her back hit the trunk of the tree, her knees buckled.

“It’s okay, Jacey,” he said, pitching his voice low. “I’m not going to hurt you. Are you all right?”

Her head snapped up. “Christian?”

Shit. She hadn’t even recognized him. “Are you hurt?”

“Christian,” she repeated, as if trying to make sense of it.

He sheathed his sword and dismounted. Half afraid she’d bolt and he’d have to run her down, he approached her cautiously, keeping his movements slow and easy. But Jacey didn’t startle. In fact, she seemed to have passed into a state of shock. She just stared at him with an odd pinched look on her face. He’d nearly reached her when her eyes rolled back in her head and she crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Chapter Five

Christian waited for Aiden in the kitchen as the rest of the hunt returned. Aiden, who’d already been in a foul mood before the hunt, now looked fit to erupt. Still covered in demon blood, he blew through the back door like a thunderstorm advancing across the plains. Before he reached the hall leading to the stairs, Christian stood to block his path.

“You need to wait a minute before you go up there. She’s not hurt and we have the time.”

Aiden planted his feet, resting his fists on his hips. His eyes narrowed dangerously, but he was listening, so Christian continued, “I killed the jötunn before it got to her. She fainted and hit her head in the fall. Alan is upstairs making sure she stays unconscious until we make a decision about what to do, but he thinks we’ll be able to use the injury to cover anything she might have seen.”

“She saw it, then? The jötunn? It was close enough for her to see it clearly?” Aiden must have read the answer in Christian’s expression, because he didn’t wait for him to speak. Running a hand through his mussed hair, he said, “I’ll have Fen call Kamis back.”

“Why?”

“You know why. He can wipe her memory of this. At least about the jötunn. We’ll tell her we found her in the woods. That she slipped on a patch of ice and hit her head.”

Christian shook his head. “You can’t let a Vanir witch mess around inside her head. It’s too dangerous.”

“What’s dangerous is her snooping around. You were supposed to get rid of her.”

“Did you want me to slit her throat and dump her in the lake? I didn’t know she was planning this. Last I knew she was headed out of town. Let me talk to her and find out why she came back. Maybe something’s changed with the case.”

“It’s too risky.”

“You’re going to wipe her anyway. What do we have to lose?”

Aiden gave him a disgusted look. “Everything. We have everything to lose if she talks. I’m calling in Kamis. You have until he gets here.”

Jacey opened her eyes to an unfamiliar room. She was lying in bed staring at a flat, cream-colored ceiling. The ceiling in the apartment she rented was popcorn white. This wasn’t a familiar room, but she wasn’t in a hospital either. She was fully clothed, with the blankets underneath her. Her boots and coat were missing, but otherwise everything else seemed to be in place. She blinked, and this time when she opened her eyes she was able to focus a little better. Along with that focus came an awareness that her head was throbbing. She raised her hand to touch it gingerly.

“Jacey?” That was Christian’s voice, followed by the sound of his footsteps across a hardwood floor. A moment later, Christian’s perfect face came into her line of sight. His brows were drawn together in a frown and his blue eyes were filled with worry. She managed to give him a smile that was meant to be reassuring. He didn’t seem particularly reassured by it. In fact, his frown only deepened as he studied her.

“Where am I?” Everything seemed foggy. She couldn’t quite remember how she’d gotten here. The motel and driving out to the woods…

“You’re at Aiden’s house,” Christian said, voice strained. “Remember we stopped by here earlier today?”

When she tried to sit up, a wave of nausea rolled through her and she groaned. Christian placed his hand upon her shoulder and pressed her back down to the mattress. His other hand gently smoothed her hair from her forehead. “What are you still doing in town? I thought you were on your way back to Des Moines.”

“My head…”

“You fell in the woods and your head struck a rock. Banged it up pretty good.”

That call to Mark. The empty parking lot at McGuire’s. She’d decided to check out the road to the lake, and then she’d seen lights. Strange lights, an odd, vibrant blue, almost neon bright. She remembered getting out of her truck to investigate, and…

It all came back to her in a rush of frantic images. The strange animal creeping from the shadows. The howling. A pale horse thundering toward her and Christian holding a blazing sword. Literally blazing with a cold, ghostly light. She felt the blood drain from her face. Her skin went cold and she closed her eyes to fight back the swell of panic that threatened to overwhelm her.

“Alan,” Christian said sharply, moving aside to let another take his place.

When she opened her eyes again, it was to find a young man in his early twenties eying her with a concerned frown. He glanced over his shoulder at Christian. “Aiden said—”

“I don’t give a fuck what he said. Fix this.”

Alan sighed heavily and leaned over her. He pressed his cold fingertips to her forehead, catching her even when she tried to flinch away. The room blurred and she fell. At least, it felt like falling. She could still feel the mattress beneath her, but her stomach dropped like she was on one of those freefall rides at the amusement park and, for a moment, everything went black.

Next she knew, Christian was slipping an arm beneath her shoulders and pressing a glass to her mouth. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Obediently, she swallowed when he tipped the glass, only belatedly realizing that maybe she ought to be more suspicious. She pushed the glass away, ignoring Christian’s curse and the droplets of water that scattered on the bed linen.

“What’s wrong with me?” She should be at a hospital. Maybe an ambulance was on its way… “How long was I out?”

“A few minutes. How do you feel?”

She gave a little laugh. “Like crap. I…”

But no, that wasn’t true. She felt disorientated and a little woozy, but the pain was gone. She touched the side of her head and the swelling was gone too. The skin wasn’t even tender. She frowned at Christian.

“What the hell?”

Instead of answering her, he lowered her back down to the pillows, tucked the blankets around her and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’m sorry to have to do this right now, but we don’t have much time.”

“Time for what?”

He ignored the question. “How much do you remember about what happened tonight?”

She hesitated. If she told him what she remembered, he’d think she was crazy, but she couldn’t ignore what she’d seen, either. Whatever the animal was she’d encountered in the woods, it had to be what was behind the reports that had brought her here. And what if there were more of them? Christian waited for her answer. She pushed herself up onto the pillows, and he leaned over to help her readjust them.

“I planned on leaving town after you dropped me off at my truck,” she said, hating the quaver in her voice. “But a local paper picked up the news story and Mark asked me to stick around another day or two in case there were questions to be answered. He wanted to be sure the dog was what had been causing the trouble. I didn’t want to sit around at the motel all night so I thought I’d check out the road by the lake.”

Christian’s brows lifted. “Alone and in the dark?”

“I just intended to locate the road I’d seen in the aerial pictures and then grab a bite to eat. It wasn’t dark when I started off, but I got turned around. By the time I found the road, the sun was setting. I saw lights in the woods so I kept going.”

She paused, but Christian’s expression was unreadable. He didn’t offer an explanation, just waited for her to continue. “I parked the truck and decided to take a quick look around.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You were there. You know the rest of the story.”

“I want to hear your version.”

She glowered. The least he could do was meet her halfway. He’d seen it too. She could tell by the expression on his face that he’d seen the same unnatural creature she had, but for whatever reason—probably to save face with his friend—he wanted her to be the first one to cry monster.

“I saw…an animal,” she said carefully. “It was big and like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” Christian had killed it, which meant the proof was still there. “If you could drive me back out there, I’d appreciate it. I don’t think I should be behind the wheel right now, but I need to get the body loaded in the truck before anything gets to it.”

A slight smile touched his mouth, but was gone in an instant. “You’re not going anywhere tonight.”

“I have to.”

“It’s being taken care of.”

Taken care of? Taken care of meant others had seen the body of that animal too. Why would they want to cover it up? A sliver of fear worked its way down her spine. “You expect me to just accept that and walk away?”

A hint of amusement entered his eyes. “It would make things a good deal easier if you did.”

She stared at him for a long moment and then lifted her chin. “Your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Explain to me what you were doing out there. I told you what I saw…”

He reached out and took hold of her wrist. It was a light touch, but she could feel the strength in his fingers, the hard, calloused skin. His thumb stroked lightly over where her pulse thundered just beneath the skin.

“Liar,” he said gently. “You saw a monster. A creature big as a horse with leathery black skin and fire running through its veins.”

“Christian,” the doctor said, his voice sharp.

Christian ignored the warning. The intense look in his eyes held her in place more than his hold on her wrist.

“You saw me kill it with a glowing sword,” he continued, almost apologetically. “That’s the truth. And this isn’t going to work unless we’re straight with each other.”

Her mouth had gone dry and it was an effort to swallow. “What isn’t going to work?”

“You getting out of this in one piece.”

She jerked her arm free and looked wildly around the room. It was a simple room with old-fashioned furniture. It was possibly the most unthreatening room she’d seen in her entire life. There were crocheted doilies on the dresser, for goodness’ sake. But she was also alone with two virtual strangers, and no one outside of Ragnarok knew exactly where she was.

When she looked back at Christian, he was watching her with a calm, almost pitying expression on his face.

“I don’t appreciate being threatened.”

He shook his head. “I’m not threatening you.”

“Where’s my phone? I need to check in.”

“You won’t get reception out here.” He looked up as headlights shone through the window, and his expression tightened. “And like I said, we’re running out of time. Do you trust me?”

Earlier she would have said yes. Now the answer was
hell no
, but as she didn’t want to die, she said, “Of course I trust you.”

His smile called her a liar again, but this time he didn’t say it out loud. Alan walked over to the window and drew back the curtains to look out.

“The backup plan is here,” he said, giving Christian a significant look. “If you want to try this, you need to just spit it out. Aiden’s mind is made up.”

“I’m trying.”

“You’re wasting time.” The doctor walked back to the bed and looked down at her with a smile. “What my friend here is trying to say is that your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you out there. The creature you saw is a jötunn. What your ancestors might have called a demon. The light? A breach in the fault line between worlds. We’re Æsir, and you, my dear woman, crossed the wild hunt tonight. Not many of your kind do so and live to tell the tale.”

“I don’t know what any of that means.”

Christian touched the back of her hand to draw her attention. “Do you know anything about Norse mythology?”

What could that possibly have to do with anything? “You mean like Thor? I’ve seen the movies.”

The doctor laughed, and Christian shot him a glare. “You don’t have to be here, Alan.”

“I think I do. She’s my patient. What if she goes into shock again?”

Alan dropped into a chair and crossed his arms over his chest, a smile on his face. He didn’t seem particularly concerned about her. If anything, he looked like he was settling in to enjoy a show. He gestured toward Christian and then at her. “Go on.”

Christian turned back to her, blue eyes sober. Still handsome and perfect and too good to be true. His uncertainty made him seem more human, even if he seemed to be trying to convince her, quite earnestly, that he wasn’t.

“What’s an Æsir?”

“Thor was of the Æsir, Odin, Frigg. Your ancestors called them gods, but they were only men and women. Long-lived and with certain abilities, but still like you. The magic always came from Asgard, not the people themselves.”

He watched her carefully, reading her reaction. She had none to give him, because she still wasn’t completely sure what he was getting at. “Are you talking about cosplay? You’re saying that was some kind of comic book reenactment I stumbled onto.”

“Yes,” Alan said firmly. At the same time and just as firmly, Christian said, “No.”

When Alan groaned, Christian shot him a dirty look and then turned back to her.

“No, Jacey. That’s not what I’m saying. What you saw was real. Thor and the rest—people called them gods but they were men. Not human, but close. They were from a different world called Asgard.”

She sat up, pressing her hand to her stomach to stave off another wave of nausea. “You’re telling me you’re an alien. Seriously.”