Struck: (Phoebe Meadows Book 1) (8 page)

I shuddered and closed my eyes.

Think
.

I needed that dagger, and whoever had taken it may be able to be reasoned with. The voice had sounded human, so that was a plus. At least, I was hoping it was. It had sounded rusty, like the man hadn’t spoken in a while, with maybe a hint of an unfamiliar accent? It was hard to know. He hadn’t said much.

The possibility of having only one thing to contend with right now made me feel a little bit more optimistic. Maybe humanlike people lived in this place. Maybe the inhabitants of
this
particular world weren’t insane and hell-bent on trying to kill me. That was a nice thought. I was going to hold on to that.

Sweat beaded on my face.

Not only was it stinky, it was steaming hot. But there was a chance I might be running a fever from Bragnon’s poison. The pain in my ankle had ratcheted up to, and was quickly passing, unbearable. I had to find something else to focus on. Trying to talk the stranger out of my blade was a good place to start. “Hello,” I called in a thin voice. “I’m so sorry I’ve landed in your…space. But I really need what you’ve taken from me so I can go home. Without it…I’m trapped here.”

“I will not give it up.” The sound came from about twenty paces to my left. Closer this time. It was still too dark and shadowy for me to pinpoint exactly where. The voice was still rough and raspy around the edges.

I sighed. I was not in any shape to deal with another monster. “It’s mine, and I need it back!” I called. “Where I’m from, people don’t take what’s not theirs.” Usually. Sometimes. Okay, most
nice
people.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve received a gift of this magnitude,” the voice replied hoarsely. “I will not part with it.”

“It wasn’t a gift. It belongs to me,” I insisted, bringing my injured leg up, gritting my teeth as I wrapped my hands around my knee, lofting it in the air to take the weight off my ankle. I was running out of time. I was either going to black out or die from the poison. “In order to
receive
a gift, one has to give it willingly. I did not
give
you anything. You took it while I was out cold. That’s called stealing.”

“I take what the fates give me,” he growled. “I do not regret it.”

“If you keep that dagger, I will die,” I said flatly. “While that may be an enjoyable option to you, I promise my death will rest on your shoulders for all eternity. Depending on what sort of world I’ve landed in, and what kind of species you are, that might be a very long time.”

“I will not aid in killing you,” he called. “Your death is your own.”

“If you don’t help me, it’s the same as killing me. Maybe down here you guys don’t take honor lightly, but from where I’m from, not helping another person is equal to signing their death certificate. You don’t leave someone to rot in the street. You help them if you can. And you
can
. Give me back my dagger!”

“Do not talk to me about honor!” His voice became stronger each time he spoke. “They have stripped me of everything in this wretched place. All I have left is my honor.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” I coughed. The pain had climbed to mid-thigh. It was blinding. It was a miracle I was still conscious, but I wasn’t going to be for much longer. Once the poison hit my vital organs, I knew I would die, and then Verdandi and Bragnon would win.

I tried to concentrate, focusing on Ingrid and what she would want me to do.

She would want me to fight. It wasn’t even up for debate. That was a good, concrete thought. I latched on to it greedily. Fight. I had to fight. “Quit being a coward and give me back my knife!” I shouted. “You’re a dirty thief with no honor and nothing more!” That took more effort than I’d thought, and I slumped to the side, gravity tugging me to the dirty floor.

“I am no coward,” the voice answered as a shape finally stepped from the shadows. “I have been bound by gods, cast out of my rightful world, tied up like a dog, and have bested the fire demons again and again, and yet I still live. I am
no
coward.” Each syllable had been spoken with purpose.

He walked—more like
stalked
—toward me.

My eyes blurred, the pain eating away at my ability to discern much of anything, but he seemed to have only one head, so that was a relief. Even if he’d had ten heads, I wasn’t in a position to do anything about it. My body was spent, and the bastard had my trusty blade. If his plans included chopping me up, or flaying me open, there would be no stopping him.

He dropped to a crouch in front of me, peering at me, his eyes narrowing like a predator’s. The fact that he was shirtless was the first thing I noticed. It was hard to miss, even with my failing vision. His body was large, full of corded muscle. He wore a ragged pair of shorts, which looked vaguely like they used to be pants. They were caked with dirt. Sweat beaded all over his body, making it shine.

He had the right idea. You really shouldn’t wear clothes here. It was too hot. Deliriously, I wished he would take my jacket off since I was pretty much burning up.

He leaned in closer.

I could tell he was a big guy, even crouched down. He had intricate dark patterns etched on his stomach like flames. They were beautiful. “Pretty lines,” I slurred, my body beginning to shut down. “Dagger. I need it. Please…my only chance.”

He lifted my ankle. I muffled a scream and bit the insides of my cheeks, my hands scrabbling in the dirt. In a rough voice, he asked, “What bit you here?”

I moaned. “A shark…with lots of teeth.”

“A shark?” He cocked his head, his long, blond hair dropping over one shoulder, obscuring the black tattoos I noticed ran along his huge biceps. “I don’t understand.”

“Short and mean…icky green eyes…lots of sharp, pointy teeth…just like a shark.” He turned my ankle, and I cried out, tears springing to my eyes.

“An ettin?” he asked. “The Norns’ agents? You were bitten by an ettin?”

“Yes, yes, an ettin!” I chortled. It rhymed. Bitten by an ettin. “His name was…Bragnon.” I was proud I could remember the shark’s name.

“They are full of poison,” he added gravely.

“No…crap,” I gasped. “Hurts!”

He rocked my ankle, still inspecting it.

“Stop…touching…
me
!” I was too weak to pull out of his grip, or kick him, which is what I wanted to do.

He finally set it down and then decisively tore open what was left of my tights. I was still dressed in my skirt from this morning, my wool jacket, and one winter boot. I moaned and tried to focus my eyes, but they kept rolling back in my head. “What…in the hell…are you
doing
?”

“I must get the poison out.”

“And I need…to be naked…for that?”

“I have to see how far the poison has gone up your leg.” His voice was authoritative.

I pried my eyes open as he moved forward, balancing on the balls of his bare feet. I spotted my dagger sticking out of his waistband. “Mine,” I mumbled. “Give it back. Then I can…get to Ingrid. She can…help…”

“There’s no time,” he said. “Tell me where you feel no pain. Hurry.”

I lifted my head, which took an incredible amount of effort. For the first time since I’d been bitten, I saw my ankle. There were thick, dark holes where Sharky’s teeth had punctured the skin. The blood was a dark, muddy red, half dried, half leaking. I wasn’t glowing, thank goodness. The pain had risen to the top of my thigh.

I brought my arm down weakly, slapping it against the top of my thigh in a halfhearted karate chop. “It’s here…the fire stops here.”

He met my eyes for a brief moment and then grabbed on to my waist, sliding me so I was positioned flat in front of him. Then he ripped the rest of my tights off and discarded them impatiently, at the same time pulling up my skirt to expose my bare thigh all the way to the top. I wore underwear, so I was still covered.

But, at this moment, I couldn’t have cared less.

Just stop the pain, Tarzan. That’s all I ask.

Until he pulled Gram out of his pants.

Then I cared a lot. “Please, what are you doing—” I gasped as all my brain pistons re-fired at once. I started to scream and kick when he angled the dagger down toward my leg, which sent shooting stars skyrocketing through my eyes as my ankle hit the ground over and over.

This strange, half-dressed man was going to cut me with my own dagger!

“Relax, Valkyrie, this blade has more uses than just opening portals. Odin made sure of that when he had it crafted.”

“Are you going to cut me with it?”

“Yes, but as I cut, the blade will sear the flesh. I only have to make a small incision above the poison line.”

A small incision?

“
Argh
!” I tried to buck up, but his large hand splayed over my stomach, pressing me to the ground, forcing me to keep still. I glanced down and saw the dagger was embedded in my leg. I didn’t think that was at all necessary.

I wailed until my voice was hoarse. The fire I’d felt from the bite was nothing compared to what was charging through me now. A volcano of heat cooked my thigh. Smoke and lava should’ve been pouring out of my leg. I thrashed my head back and forth.

“Only a few seconds more,” he said gruffly. “I can see the poison under your skin. The trail beneath is now blue. The dagger has done its job well.”

“I can’t,” I panted. “I can’t do this…not…strong…enough.”

He chuckled, his voice warming up for the first time. “A lesser beast would have lost consciousness. This is no small task.” He finally eased his hand off my stomach as he pulled the dagger out.

I screamed.

When I was done cursing the entire world, I lay there trying to catch my breath.

“Valkyrie, I’m curious. How did you find your way here?” He rocked back on his heels and cleaned the dagger on his filthy pants like I wasn’t splayed right in front of him writhing in agony. My blood streaked the fabric red.

I may have lost consciousness for a few moments.

When my vision slowly ebbed back, I spotted him perched on a rock nearby, still waiting for me to answer.

“What did you ask me?” I mumbled.

“How did you land here? And where are your weapons?”

“Um, my weapon is currently resting in your waistband.” I glanced around the dismal cave. “And I don’t know how I got here. The tree didn’t ask me where I wanted to go. It just decided.”

He got off his rock and paced over, bending down to inspect my wound. I was happy I was lying down and couldn’t see the carnage. “No, I mean where is your battle armor? Your shield and your weapon of choice—your spear, ax, or sword? Shieldmaidens are not seen without their full regalia often. If you meant to hunt me, you came ill-prepared.” He ended with a little snarl. “Odin’s favorite dagger will only get you so far.”

“Hunt you?” I asked, confused. “Why would I want to hunt you?”

“For the reward and glory.”

“Huh? I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else. The only reward I seek is finding my way back to New York
.
” For good measure, I added, “Without any creepy monster following me. I just want to be left alone.”

“This is perplexing indeed.” His eyebrows locked into concentration. Honestly, his face was incredible. Now that I could focus on it without pain addling my brain, he looked like he’d been carved out of stone, not born. His skin was a deep caramel color and flawless. He could be a Greek statue. And those tattoos and the blond hair.
Holy moly
. “The only shieldmaidens who have tried to reach me here have come through Surtr’s lair, paying a hefty toll for their entry. This portal was sealed long ago by the gods.” He gestured to the wall behind my head. Then he glanced down with an arched brow, like I kept vital information from him that might have something to do with the unsealing of the portal.

“Honestly, I’m not lying. I have no idea how I got here,” I insisted. “Verdandi was trying to kill me, and I pierced the tree with Gram and fell through. Actually, it was more like I was sucked inside after I rammed the dagger into the bark, but whatever, it wasn’t my choice. I wanted to return to New York, not come here.”

He sat back. “You were in the presence of the Norn Verdandi?”

“Yes, and it wasn’t great. She’s pretty horrifying.”

“Very few escape their lair. The three fates are…powerful beings.”

I thought of the big, brave Junnal. “I know.”

“My judgment is that you cannot harm me.” He stood up. “If I thought you capable, I would have left you here to fend for yourself.”

“Left me to die, you mean,” I corrected, wondering if I should try to get up or just lie here for a while. Getting up seemed like a lot of effort.

“Wrong, Valkyrie. You would not have died. I simply saved you from a fortnight of agony.” He stood, making the decision for me, as he bent over and scooped me up like I weighed nothing.

The pain from the dagger wound had subsided to a dull ache. “Who are you?” I asked as he turned and headed deeper into the cavern.

“I am Fenrir the Wolf.”

“I’m sorry, did you say you’re a
wolf
?”

8

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