Not Broken: True Destiny, Book 5 (5 page)

Before she could get two steps, the lights went out. “Crap.”

“I’ll get the flashlight.”

Sydney might be calm, but Sylvia was freaking the hell out. “There’s no storm.”

“Huh?”

Sylvia could hear Syd rummaging around for the flashlight, cursing softly. “I said, there’s no storm. Why did the lights go out?”

Silence. “Oh, fuck.”

Sylvia nodded, even though she knew Syd couldn’t see her. “We need to get out.”

Syd whimpered. “You think it’s Val?”

“He has no reason to come after us, Syd.” She really needed to get over her fear of the Avenger. If she did, she might be able to figure out a way to get the man to notice her.

“If he thinks we really are working for Frederica, he does.” The click of the flashlight and the sudden burst of light had her blinking. “Let’s go.”

Sylvia followed Sydney, her senses on high alert. There was no way they could fight Val or Odin or Henry, or hell, anyone. Neither of them were warriors. Thor had protected her when they’d been married, even when he was unfaithful. After their divorce, there’d been no need for warriors, as the advent of modern times meant Sylvia felt relatively safe within the boundaries Odin had set for them. Hell, even after the Old Man had been defeated and the apples of Idunn put under lock and key, she’d felt safe.

Now that sense of safety mocked her. She tiptoed toward her front door, terrified out of her mind. Her heart was pounding, her palms sweating, the fear causing every little creak to sound twice as loud as it really was. “Syd?”

“Yeah?” Syd reached for the door handle.

“Be careful.” Syd was even less ready for a confrontation than Sylvia was.

“Sure thing.” But Sydney’s voice was shaking, the light from the flashlight moving erratically. Her friend was just as terrified as she was.

After a deep, cleansing breath, Syd opened the front door and took a look around. “No one there.”

“Good. Let’s go.” Sylvia put her hand on Syd’s shoulder, more than ready to get the hell out of Dodge.

When a hand landed on
her
shoulder, she shrieked so loud she was certain she woke up Hel.

Chapter Five

“He cried?” Morgan took off the headphones, his expression surprised. He set down the headphones and began to laugh. “He seriously had a crymax?”

Magnus smacked his brother hard. “Dickhead. At least I know my kitchen table is safe to eat off of.”

Morgan only laughed harder. “Mama always said we should eat at the table.”

Magnus rolled his eyes and tried to ignore his idiot twin. He had more important things to worry about. “I don’t think Slade’s had any real affection in his entire life, and he got overwhelmed.”

Morgan stared at his headphones, his laughter subsiding abruptly for real concern. “Are you worried that he might be broken?”

He gave that some thought. If anyone else had asked, his response would have been immediate and angry, but this was his twin. Morgan wouldn’t ask if he wasn’t truly worried about Slade. If Slade had been broken Morgan would have been among the first to grab the emotional duct tape. “No, I don’t think so. He’s damaged, yes, but not broken.”

“Then love on him as hard as you can.” Morgan looked at him and smiled. “He’s strong, Magnus. He’s had to be. Right now he’s dealing with not only the torture but the fact that he’s finally free and in a place where it’s okay to be weak, where he knows he’s safe. Let him get that out any way he has to.”

“I will, but I still want to beat the shit out of the Old Man all over again.” Magnus would get that chance if the fates were willing. “But for now, I have my marching orders. I’m to protect Sylvia until I can get her home.”

Morgan laughed. “Yeah, your mate is one bossy dude.”

Magnus grinned, pleased. “Yup, he is.”

Morgan shook his head and put the headphones back on. They were in the surveillance van, listening to Sylvia and Sydney chatter at each other. When the women mentioned Frederica’s plot against Logan, they exchanged a surprised look.

Magnus’s phone rang, startling them. He checked the caller ID, quickly answering when he saw it was Slade. “What’s wrong?”

Slade’s voice was calm but rough, the raspy tone “I don’t know, but I can sense something through the hair bracelet I gave Sylvia. I think she’s in danger.”

When the lights went out, Magnus was out of the van and rocketing toward the front door of their apartment building, Morgan hot on his heels, his cell phone dropped somewhere in the van. There was no way the lights had gone out in one building on the block. Something was desperately wrong, and Magnus was pulling the plug on their little operation before it had even begun.

He practically ripped the stairway door off its hinges, taking the stairs two at a time. He could barely see in the dim emergency lighting, but that didn’t even slow him down. He hauled ass to the third floor, ready to attack anything that made a move on Sylvia.

He opened the third floor door and started running down the dark corridor, but he didn’t get very far. There was no emergency light on. Everything was black, the sense that he was not alone nearly overwhelming. He could hear muffled curses, see the flash of lights under doors as the residents attempted to find their way around their suddenly dark apartments. He found himself forced to move slowly, one hand along the wall as he felt for door numbers, praying he found the correct one and didn’t accidentally wind up scaring the shit out of some little old grandma with a meat cleaver and a justifiable homicide defense.

A door ahead of him opened and a light flashing into the corridor. He heard Sydney’s voice, quiet and grim, shaking slightly. “No one there.”

“Good. Let’s go.” But before the women could leave the apartment Magnus heard a shriek so loud he wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Fenris heard it all the way in Rittenhouse Square.

“Sylvia!” Magnus put on a burst of speed as Sylvia’s scream rang out. The light moved wildly before the flashlight landed on the carpet, rolling against the wall and pointing in the opposite direction from Magnus, giving him nothing to work with.

Whatever was here was already in the apartment with Sylvia.

Magnus got to the door, terrified he wouldn’t be able to stop the attacker from harming his mate. His fingertips sparked in response to his fury. Morgan was right on his heels, muttering under his breath, the thunder building in his voice. Magnus pulled
Mjolnir
from its chain. They wouldn’t be able to throw it in the small apartment, but he wanted it ready in case their opponent was more than just a burglar.

The sons of Thor were ready for battle.

Magnus entered first,
Mjolnir
on one hand, lightning sparking from his fingertips.

“Magnus?” Sylvia’s trembling voice came from the other side of the room. “Ow!”

He felt the rage build at Sylvia’s pain-filled tone. “Morgan.”

“On it.” Morgan moved around him, edging along the wall, feeling his way toward where Sylvia’s voice had come from.

“Well. I wasn’t expecting you.”

Magnus blinked. That voice was vaguely familiar, feminine yet deep. It was a voice he hadn’t heard in decades. “Skadi? Is that you?”

“I hear you’ve turned traitor, boy.” A sense of air displacement was his only warning. Magnus ducked, the blade swishing over his head.

“You still follow the Old Man?” Magnus readied
Mjolnir
, the hammer growing from the tiny silver pendant into the mighty weapon his father had once wielded.

“I follow my lord, the King of the Gods.”

Thanks to the light from his fingertips he could just see her. “Then you follow Kir, not Odin.” He blocked a blow from Skadi’s blade. The strength behind her blow was phenomenal. She wasn’t playing around. She intended to kill him if she could. “Kir holds
Gungnir
. He is now the ruler of the gods, not Odin.”

“Kir is not my lord.” The savage anger in her voice was startling. “He’s taken up with the foul betrayer, the Father of Lies.”

Apparently she’d had never gotten over the fact that the bonds she’d tied Logan down with had been undone. Kir had freed Logan from his mountain prison, running away with him and hiding out from Odin for centuries. Since she’d been the one to craft the bonds out of the entrails of one of Logan’s sons, she’d been pissed when Logan got away.

But Ragnarrok had begun long before Kir and Logan fled. It started the day Odin tricked the blind god Hodr into nearly killing Kir, but wound up wounding Logan instead. It was only now beginning to come to a head. With the death of Odin, Ragnarrok, the true destiny of the gods, would finally be revealed.

They traded blows, Magnus trying to maneuver Skadi so that Morgan could get the women out to safety. “Why are you here? Why did you attack Sylvia and Sydney?”

“Sylvia and Sydney are nothing more than pawns, a means to get to Loki.” Skadi feinted, getting in a solid blow against Magnus’s side. He cried out, the pain excruciating. “My orders come from Odin himself.”

The fucking bastard was once again using a woman to do his dirty work. First Rina, now Skadi. “Are you his lover now?”

She scoffed. “I have no need for lovers or defenders. I can take care of myself.”

The proud daughter of the mountain king had once been married to Njord, the Vanir god of the sea. He felt sorry for the poor guy. She’d given Njord nothing but grief the entire time they’d been married. She’d hated the sea, hated fish, hated sand, but mostly she’d hated her husband and let him know it at every opportunity. Njord had ended the relationship, and ever since then he’d been holed up in the sea, probably thrilled that his ex-wife never visited.

“You’re wrong.” The sound of
Mjolnir
crashing against her blade was loud and painful enough to distract her from the fact that Morgan had gotten the women out the door. He threw a lightning bolt, making her dance away from the door as Morgan signaled that the hallway was clear. “Kiran Tate-Saeter is the rightful ruler of the Aesir and the Vanir, by the laws of our people and by the prophecy of Ragnarrok.”

She swung again, sidestepping his return blow. “You’ve become weak, almost human. You’ve lived among them for so long you’ve forgotten what it is to be jotun.”

“I’m half Aesir.” Magnus struck with his lightning, pouring his rage into the blow. Skadi flew across the room, her blade falling from her fingers to clatter to the floor. “I am my father’s son.”

Magnus turned his back on Skadi and walked to the door, but her pain-filled voice stopped him. “This is not the end, Magni Thorsson.”

He didn’t turn back despite the name he hadn’t heard in centuries. “No it is not, Skadi Thjazisdotter.” He walked out the door, refusing to run until he’d hit the stairway.

Morgan already had Sylvia and Sydney in the back of the van, the engine running as they waited for Magnus to return. Magnus got into the passenger seat and Morgan took off, the women silent and still behind them.

“You’re safe now.” He kept repeating that to himself, the visions of what Skadi could have done to Sylvia before he arrived rolling one after the other through his mind. “You’re safe.”

It was as much reassurance for him as it was for them.

When Morgan stepped into the condo, Slade didn’t know whether to be relieved or upset. He chose to go with upset when he realized that Morgan was supporting a wounded Magnus. “What happened?” He hurried over, ignoring the lingering twinges of pain, and took Magnus from Morgan. He might be shorter and more slender than Magnus, but he was still a damn horse shifter. He could easily take Magnus’s weight.

“Skadi was there.” Morgan looked back, and only then did Slade realize that Sylvia and Sydney were with them. Sylvia was limping, her expression pained, her shoes in her hand. “Sylvia twisted her ankle on the stairs when we ran for it.”

“What the hell was Skadi doing there? She sticks to her father’s country in Jotunheim. I can’t remember the last time she came to Midgard.” Slade eased Magnus onto the sofa, only then noticing the blood on his lover’s side. “She did this?”

Some of his cold fury must have seeped into his tone, because Morgan shot him a startled look. “Yes. She’s tough, tougher than I remembered.” Morgan helped Sydney settle Sylvia into an armchair near the fireplace, lifting her leg until her ankle rested on the coffee table. It was obviously swollen. “She held Magnus off, but he kept her occupied long enough for me to get Sylvia and Sydney out of the apartment.”

So his lover had sacrificed himself for their mate. Slade both approved and disapproved. He grumbled under his breath as he carefully eased the bloody shirt off Magnus. “That cut is deep.” Magnus didn’t heal the way Slade did. It would take time for the wound to close.

“She told me Odin sent her to deal with Logan.” Magnus winced as Slade used the bloody shirt to wipe some of his skin clean. “She’s still loyal to him, thinks he should still be the king of the gods.”

Slade scowled. “Kir holds Gungnir. He’s lord of the Aesir and Vanir now.”

“I know that, but the crazy lady doesn’t.”

Slade made a disgusted noise as he headed into the bathroom for the first-aid kit. He bent down and began rummaging through the cabinets, looking for the red bag Magnus kept under here. He’d become very familiar with that bag since moving in. Magnus broke it out every night, tending Slade’s still healing body. Even super jotun healing didn’t completely compensate for being skinned alive multiple times in one day. “Great. Wonderful. Now we have to worry about a new player in the game, one who can kick Magnus’s ass.”

“Hey, now.” Slade turned from the bathroom cabinet at the sound of Magnus’s voice. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I know what she’s capable of, and next time I won’t hold back.”

“You held back?” Slade stood so quickly he almost lost his balance. “Why?”

“The main point was to get Sylvia safely away.” Magnus cupped Slade’s cheek. “We’re all home now, right?”

That touch, coupled with the word home, drained most of Slade’s anger. “Yes, we are.”

“Now we just have to convince Sylvia of that.” Magnus’s grin was rueful.

“And Logan, and Kir.” Slade rolled his eyes and grabbed the first aid kit. “Go sit. I want to take a look at that wound.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“I don’t give a shit. Move your ass, Mr. Tate.”

Magnus huffed out a laugh. “Yes, dear.”

Slade was going to kick the man’s ass. Like telling him that Magnus had been hurt far worse made any of it better. He now understood why Magnus growled every time Slade told him about the times Odin had tortured him. He wanted to find Skadi and stomp her into the ground. A few well-placed hooves in her skull would ensure she’d never harm his mates again.

Slade helped Magnus back into the living room, grumbling about the bloody handprints on the wall. Magnus must have used it to prop himself up while he made his way to the master bathroom. Stubborn ass man. He eased Magnus down onto the sofa and immediately opened the first-aid kit. “Morgan, can you get an ice pack for Sylvia’s ankle?”

“Already done.”

Slade glanced over, nodding his approval at the way Morgan was taking care of Sylvia’s swollen ankle. He’d wrapped her ankle in a special brace made to hold ice packs. The fact that Magnus had those ice packs ready to go had him glaring at the man.

Magnus merely smiled at him, seemingly amused by Slade’s anger. “It’s not the first time one of us has hurt a joint. We have braces for knees, shoulders, the works.”

Slade nodded. He supposed he would have to get used to his mate getting hurt. The man was a warrior, a Viking through and through. That didn’t mean that Slade wasn’t going to give him hell when he came home bleeding, though. “Tell me everything that happened.” He glanced at Sylvia, saw the way she was grimacing, holding tightly to Sydney’s hand. “Why don’t you start?”

She looked startled at his firm tone, but sat up straighter. “We were discussing…” She looked up at Sydney, who shrugged.

“Frederica is planning on planting something on Logan’s computer that will break up the relationship between Kir, Logan and Jordan.” Magnus was staring at Sylvia grimly. “We were listening.”

Sylvia paled. “Then you know we didn’t have anything to do with it.”

Magnus smiled. “I trust you.”

“So do I.” Slade taped Magnus up, clucking his tongue when Magnus hissed in pain. “Next time, dodge.”