Embrace of the Damned (11 page)

“As a witch raised away from your kindred, I’m not surprised to hear you say that. You would have always sensed there was something a little unusual about yourself.”

“You’re not kidding.” She paused. “You could taste it on me?”

Broder nodded. “As you told me your story about your birth parents, the pictures, the special abilities, I realized you were probably either witch, elf, or Valkyrie. A kiss told me all I needed to know.”

“Did you just say
elves
?”

“Yes, they exist, but you’re not likely to ever meet one.”

“Wait. No, seriously, you just said elves.”

Broder looked like he might be counting to ten. “Yes. I did.”

“I didn’t know elves were a part of Nordic myth, let alone witches,” she replied, feeling numb.

“You are seidhr, one of the rare Norse witches and shamans left in the world. The Blight have been systematically wiping them out because the seidhr are a powerful force in preventing Ragnarök. That’s why they want to kill you. Somehow you’ve been hidden to them all these years, but something you’ve done lately—probably in pursuing this mystery about your birth parents—has revealed you to them. Now they have your scent, so to speak.”

“And they’ve set the Hel hounds on me.”

“Low-level demons.” Broder nodded. “They won’t stop until you’re dead.”

And the good news just kept on coming.

She blinked. “I can see how this explains my special powers, but how does it explain those pictures I found of my birth parents looking all young and beautiful back in the eighteen hundreds?”

She could still remember kneeling there in the attic, a spread of papers and files all around her … her birth certificate listing different names than she’d expected, names she didn’t recognize. Then she’d found the photos, all kinds of them, all of one couple … all of them with the same names written on the back that had been on her birth certificate, listed as her birth parents.

And the realization that she looked just like them.

Broder was suddenly standing right next to her. She hadn’t even noticed he’d moved. He tipped her chin up to force her to look into his eyes. “Why do you think that is?” His voice was gentle, at odds with his demeanor and the ever-dark look in his eyes.

She drew a breath, licked her lips. “Seidhr are immortal, aren’t they?”

He nodded. “As good as immortal.” Something emotional moved across his face. “My condolences.”

“I think I need a drink. Something strong, something that will make me wake up tomorrow morning and realize all this was just a bad dream.”

“How old are you? Around twenty-two?”

“Twenty-five.”

He nodded. “Your biological clock has already slowed down. That’s how it works for the seidhr.”

“I’m not sure I want to live forever.”

“You won’t live forever, just for a very, very long time.”

She paused, blinked, did her best to digest his words. Her mind was full of questions she was afraid to ask. “So, elves. Really? Did I hear you right?”

“The seidhr, elves, the gods and goddesses from Nordic myth are not myth.” He paused. “Dwarves don’t exist, from what we know.”

“Oh, good. I’m so relieved.”

“I detect a note of sarcasm.”

“You detect right, buddy.” She rubbed her temple. “So that explains my ability to make people do what I want them to do?”

“Yes.”

“And various household electronics?”

He nodded. “All part of the same skill. That must be your inborn talent, since you need no spell. I believe they call it compulsion.”

She nodded, tired. This was just too much.

“You know nothing of who you are. For whatever reason, the seidhr lost you or buried you for a reason. If we find your biological parents—”

“They’re dead. Died in a car accident when I was an infant. At least, supposedly.” She snorted. “Not so immortal after all, I guess.”

“The seidhr age very slowly, but they can die from wounds at any time, just like a human.”

Grief welled up dark and thick from somewhere deep inside her. She’d never known her parents, but she missed them all the same. Would she ever know why her aunt—if she could call her that—had lied to her all those years? She’d deserved to know the truth.

Her aunt had been good to her, had loved her with all her heart. Jessa had never wanted for anything and they’d been incredibly close, as close as mother and daughter. Her aunt had seemed to cherish her. Perhaps she’d been protecting her from something—maybe from the Blight.

Jessa had to believe that or she would go insane.

Anyway, it was hard to imagine friendly, loving Margaret Hamilton as a kidnapper or as having some dark, nefarious purpose.

But why, oh, why hadn’t she told Jessa the truth?

Broder stared at Erik from across the room. Erik had his massive back to him, one hand on the mantel of the enormous creek stone fireplace.

“Seidhr. I haven’t seen one in decades,” came his low, bass voice.

Broder gritted his teeth. Of all the types of beings Loki could have paired him with, seidhr was the worst. It had been no accident, of course. The moment he’d kissed her he’d known and had squelched the urge to thrust her away from him, even though she’d tasted good—a little like peppermint and roses. Just like a witch … just like how Loki had taught the Brotherhood to recognize them. He’d never kissed one before today, of course.

Erik turned. “Loki sent you to this woman? She’s to be your reward?”

“Yes, but apparently this is more business than pleasure. She’ll need protecting.”

Erik nodded. “So nice of Loki to be clear with us.”

Broder shrugged. “We’re well accustomed to the games he plays.”

“And the ways in which he likes to watch us squirm.”

“Except the Brotherhood doesn’t squirm.”

Erik cracked a smile. “Fuck Loki and his games. This is the first time in a thousand years you—”

“Yeah, I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Erik nodded.

“I’m taking her to Scotland.”

“To the seidhr enclave. They won’t like that. Remember, we’re not allowed on their lands.”

Technically the seidhr and the Brotherhood were allies, but that didn’t make them friends. There was an icy tension between them and a serious lack of communication. The seidhr were isolated, protective of themselves … to a fault.

“I know.”

Erik rubbed a hand over his mouth. “But they’ll be happy to recover one of their own. They should forgive you if you’re forced to enter their territory. You should take her there right away.”

Erik didn’t know about Broder’s history with the seidhr and, if Broder had his way, he never would. Erik had no idea that the seidhr wouldn’t appreciate him riding up and
dropping off one of their precious wayward witches—even if he could do that.

“No. Not right away. We still don’t know anything about her, don’t know why she’s been hidden the way she has. It’s not like the seidhr to do that, not without good reason. I’ll take her to my keep. Call a Valkyrie, train her.”

Erik regarded him with speculation, his icy blue eyes sparkling. “You want to keep her.”

A muscle in his jaw worked. Yes, he wanted to keep her. Forever. That was the problem. Yet the woman was seidhr. Even if Loki hadn’t put a time limit on his relationship with her, that alone would be grounds for no touching.

It was going to be hard not to touch her.

“Safe,” Broder answered in a clipped tone. “I want to keep her safe.”

“Ah.” Erik paused. “I have no doubt Loki has selected the right man for the job.”

“We’re leaving immediately.”

“Does the woman know that?”

“Not yet.”

“Remember, I met her.” Erik smiled. “Good luck with that.”

Jessa leaned against a wall and watched Broder get the pat-down from hell at airport security. Before they’d gone through, she’d bet him a drink at one of the bars on the other side of security that he’d be flagged. Of course he had been. No TSA agent in their right mind would let a dangerous-looking guy like him pass without close scrutiny, yet she was beginning to doubt the female agent who’d flagged him had done it for strictly security reasons.

Finally Broder was let through and he joined Jessa on the other side. “Did you get her number?” she asked, falling into step beside him.

“What?” He looked genuinely bewildered.

She rolled her eyes and repositioned her bag on her shoulder. “That agent back there. A bomb wasn’t the ‘package’ she was trying to discover.”

Broder gave her a blank look, then checked his boarding ticket for, presumably, their flight number so they could figure out their gate. Gah. He was hopeless.

“So you never notice it when women find you attractive? Do you miss all the female heads that turn when you walk past them? How is it that you’ve lived so many years on this planet and not realized the effect you have on the opposite sex?”

He shrugged and guided her onto a moving walkway. “I don’t pay attention to such things. No reason.”

She gave up. He was too busy killing demons, maybe.

She spotted a bathroom and veered toward it once they were off the walkway. “I’ll just be a minute.” It was a long flight to Glasgow from Dulles Airport. She hated the idea of leaving the country and had made her opinions known, but going meant answering questions.

And she really needed those answers.

So, like it or not, she was getting on that plane.

Broder narrowed his eyes at her, looking from her face to the bathroom. His thoughts were clear.

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be all right just five minutes out of your care,” she called as she neared it.

“Stay alert.”

She nodded. She remembered the incident in the parking garage with perfect clarity. “I will.”

After she’d finished and had washed her hands, she took a second to give herself a critical look in the mirror.

So this was what a Nordic witch looked like. She turned her face this way and that, running her fingers over her cheeks. Her face didn’t look any different from anyone else’s, yet according to Broder she wouldn’t have to worry about wrinkles for a very, very long time.

The idea of possessing magick was odd enough, but possessing what amounted to immortality was almost brain numbing. She hadn’t thought much about it since she’d been told, mostly because she had no frame of reference in which to judge the news. She couldn’t even imagine being so long-lived. Her only measure of immortality was Broder and judging by him, it wasn’t going to be all that much fun.

How could Margaret have kept these things secret? It was possible, of course, that Margaret had never known about her background, or even that her parents had been seidhr. That seemed unlikely, though, considering the photos she’d found in her attic. Perhaps she’d been waiting to tell her about her strange genetic makeup.

Margaret’s death had been unexpected. She’d died of a heart attack while out jogging. Otherwise, at fifty-three years old, she’d been the picture of good health. That was one reason her death had hit Jessa so hard—the suddenness of it. It had rocked the foundations of her world.

And those foundations had just kept on rocking, but she refused to let the building fall down.

Broder had told her that the reason her magick had begun to show so abruptly was probably because of the depth of her emotional response to Margaret’s death. Even without training, he’d told her, a witch’s or shaman’s abilities could manifest if some dramatic or transformative experience occurred.

She stared into her brown eyes in the mirror’s reflection. Ironically, she wished for her aunt’s presence in her life right now more than anything. She just wanted to curl up in her arms and sob, tell Margaret all her fears. Margaret would stroke her hair and tell her everything would be all right.

Grief welled up in her and she tamped it down. Overwhelming emotion was one thing she couldn’t afford right now. Gritting her teeth against the urge to cry, she lowered her head for a moment. Suddenly she realized the busy bathroom had gone eerily empty.

She raised her head, frowning. That was odd, considering how packed the airport was right now. A toilet flushed behind her and a woman emerged from the stall, trailing a rolling carry-on behind her. She gave Jessa no notice as she washed her hands, gave herself a once-over in the mirror, and then left.

Jessa relaxed. She was being a little too paranoid. She gave her reflection one last glance, making sure no tears could be seen in her eyes, fluffed her hair, and headed for the door.
She’d only gone a couple of steps when a woman burst from one of the bathroom stalls and collided with her. Jessa fell back against the bank of sinks with a surprised yelp.