Arctic Dawn (The Norse Chronicles Book 2) (4 page)

The bar’s population swelled after that, and Nikka and I hustled to keep up with the increasing orders. Too harried to maintain our idle chit-chat, I put Rolf out of my thoughts and focused on work.

Later, near midnight, Nikka grabbed me and pulled me aside during a lull. “I knew that guy down there looked familiar.” She nodded at Rolf. “It just hit me where I saw him last.”

I snatched a couple of empty glasses off the bar and set them in a bus tray. “Where?”

“The diner. Remember I told you some guy was staring you down like he knew you… or wanted to eat you… or both, maybe?”

My gaze shot to Rolf, who looked back at me as though he knew he was the topic of our conversation.

“Him? Are you sure?” I asked.

“Does he look like the kind of guy I would easily mistake for someone else?”

Rolf’s black hair hung in a glossy sheet, almost brushing his shoulders. He had the pale skin of a northern European rather than the darker tones I was used to seeing around that area, especially with hair like that. His eyes were so vibrantly blue they seemed purple in the neon bar lights. Elizabeth Taylor had had eyes like that. “What the hell, Nikka? How did he know I was here?”

“Luck?” She shrugged. “Coincidence.”

“Coincidence and I don’t get along very well.”

A shiver rolled up my spine and broke in cold waves across my shoulders. Coincidence equaled monumental trouble in my world. Compounded by the strange incident on my fire escape the night before, the appearance of this would-be stalker set my nerves on edge—not that they weren’t there already.

“Nikka, can you handle things here for a second? I need to go talk to Tre.”

Nikka shrugged. “Sure. I got it.”

I rounded the end of the bar and pushed my way through the throngs of fans swaying to the jam band’s music. I tuned out the distractions and set my sights on Tre’s hulking dark figure, guarding the entrance to the bar. A smile lit his face when he saw me coming. Outside, the crowd’s roar dropped to a dull murmur.

“How’s it going in there?” Tre asked.

“Not too bad. Mostly, they’re behaving.”

“So you just came out to visit me?”

“Not entirely. I came to tell you I thought of a way for you to earn that banana pudding.”

Tre’s bright smile widened. “Oh yeah?”

“There’s a guy in there. He’s been polite and well behaved, but he gives me the creeps.”

“You want me to tell him to get lost?”

“No.”
No need to draw any more attention to myself or this odd situation.
I described Rolf to Tre and said, “Just watch him for me, will you? In case he tries anything?”

Tre nodded. “I’d do that for you anyway. It’s my job. But I’m not going to look a gift banana pudding in the mouth.”

Rolf had drained the last of his second beer by the time I returned. I refilled his drink without comment and spent the rest of the night trying to avoid him. At some point I looked up and found an empty space where he had been sitting. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, and a coil of tension eased in my chest.

Tre parted the crowd and caught my eye. When I finished serving my latest customer, I stepped down to the end of the bar where Tre waited. I leaned close so I could hear him.

“Your buddy took off down the street. No trouble. Didn’t look back. Still, I’d like to walk you up to your apartment tonight—check it out and make sure you don’t have any unwelcome guests waiting for you.”

My heart plunged into my gut. “You think…?”

“Better to be safe than sorry. Come get me when you’re ready to leave.”

Tre was settled on a bar stool, sipping a to-go cup of sweet tea when I finished my close-up duties. Nikka said goodnight and headed out the front. I locked up behind her and clenched my keys in my fist. “Ready to go?” I asked.

Tre stood and followed me through the bar, into the storage room, and out to the alleyway behind the building. I had climbed halfway up the staircase to my apartment before realizing Tre wasn’t behind me. I turned around, intending to ask him about the hold up, and found him crumpled at the foot of the stairs. Something cold and hard crawled up my throat. I covered my mouth before a scream escaped. Realizing panic was useless, I swallowed my fear and stiffened my shoulders. Something was coming for me, something undoubtedly bad, and I had to be ready for it.

Before I could descend the stairs, a man stepped from the shadows into the glow of the Stefanakises’ backdoor light and crouched over Tre’s limp body.

Ice water chilled my veins, but fire simmered beneath the surface of my skin. “Rolf,” I said, “or whoever you really are…”

Rolf stood, looked up at me, and smiled. “I’m of no consequence. I am merely a pawn, like you.”

“Helen sent you?”

He shrugged.

“How did you find me?”

“You’ve been very clever. I’m sure if I was merely a mortal, your attempt at anonymity might have been successful. But we are not human, are we? And the gods have their ways.”

“Where’s Helen?”

Rolf shook his head and stepped forward. “You’ll see her soon enough.”

I raised a hand and let my fire erupt around it. I kept the other hand, the one clutching my key ring, behind my back. “Don’t come any closer.”

“No?” Rolf sneered at my measly fireball. “And what are you going to do with that?”

“Whatever it takes.”

“Convert yourself into a star again? Lose yourself for another month?”

My heart seized up like a piston without oil. “H-how do you know about that?”

Rolf laughed. “I
know
everything, Solina. I
remember
everything. There is nothing that happens outside my knowledge.”

“Then tell me where I went,” I said, challenging him. “Tell me where I was for that four weeks. Who was I?
What
was I?”

“You were Sol. You were her essence, the pure power that is her soul.”

“How did I come back?”

Rolf shrugged and stepped closer, moving around Tre’s lifeless body. “It’s not important.”

“You don’t know, do you?”

“I just said I know everything. I didn’t say I would share all the secrets of the world with you. I am not here to be your tutor; I am here to take you to Helen.”

“Not without a fight.” I made my way down the stairs, fast but cautious. Tripping or falling meant losing the fight before it started.

My fire flickered in Rolf’s eerie eyes. The light reflected on his gleaming teeth. He looked demonic and possessed by evil. “This should be fun,” he said.

“You need to find a new definition of fun.” I lowered into a fighting stance, ready to hit, hit, hit. Strike, strike, strike. Kick, claw, bite, anything to defend myself and prevent him taking me to Helen. Or at least make him
think
I was ready to fight.

“I know the secret for dealing with you,” Rolf said. “If I avoid you long enough, you’ll burn out, and I’ll take you when you’re exhausted and vulnerable.”

“I don’t plan on giving you the chance to wait that long.” I lunged forward, aiming a kick for his knee.

Rolf danced aside and laughed. “Ha ha, Solina! You weren’t joking.”

I gave him no time to reassess but brought out my other hand, the one holding my key ring, the ring on which I kept a tiny can of pepper spray. Misdirection was not a technique reserved solely for the use of magicians. Pickpockets, con artists, and smart women fighting for their lives depended on it, too. I thumbed the pepper spray’s trigger and pointed it at Rolf. The stream struck his face, and he screamed. Blinded and in obvious pain, he stumbled away. I dropped my keys, rekindled my fire, and attacked—kicking, hitting, yelling,
burning
. The pepper spray coating his hair and skin ignited. Rolf roared, and the scent of his charring flesh and hair filled the space between us.

I leaned in for another punch, but my fist met air. My ears popped as they did whenever the air pressure changed. The alley felt empty, devoid of Rolf’s animosity and ominous presence. I raised my flames higher, encouraging them to light the scene. The fire’s glow revealed nothing more than the still and silent figure of Tre, crumpled at the bottom of my stairs. I peered into the darkness overhead, searching for the dark figure of a man or a crow or anything out of the ordinary. Maybe Rolf had changed shape and appeared as that crow on my balcony, or perhaps he had other agents spying on me. Either way, he had disappeared, and the alley seemed empty except for me and the police officer at my feet.

I snuffed my fire, crouched beside Tre, and searched for a pulse in his neck. It thumped, slow and weak, beneath my fingertips. I blubbered in relief and dashed into the bar, where I grabbed a phone, called 9-1-1, and told the operator about the wounded police officer lying in an alley behind Stefanakis Spirits and Suds. Nikka kept a list of San Diego taxi companies by the phone so we could call a ride for our overindulgent patrons. I chose the first number on the list and told the dispatcher to have a driver pick me up at the diner down the street, the one where Nikka had bought me chocolate-chip waffles.

Before the ambulance and a whole throng of SDPD showed up and started asking questions I couldn’t answer, I raced up the stairs to my apartment and grabbed my prepacked tote bags. On my way out, I patted my ugly old couch. “Sorry, girl. Don’t think you’ll fit in the trunk, or I’d bring you along.”

Nikka deserved a call from me or a note, at least—some words of good-bye and thanks. If I didn’t tell her I was going, she couldn’t give a precise indication of when I had left if anyone thought to ask her.

Muddy the trail, Mundy.
Skyla’s voice was urging me into action. Thinking of her made my heart hurt.

One tote bag slung over my shoulder, a duffle bag in one hand and another tote in the other, I started for the door and steeled my emotions against regret and disappointment.
Damn Rolf Lockhart, whoever he is
.
Damn him and Helen and the entire Norse pantheon for screwing up a perfectly good life.
I stifled another sob. Indulging in self-pity was a tempting but pointless waste of energy.

I passed Tre on the way out. He moaned and made an effort to move that ended in another painful groan. I felt like a humongous jerk for leaving him like that. Actually,
jerk
wasn’t a big enough word for how I felt. No word in my vocabulary properly conveyed my self-loathing at that moment.

A distant cry of sirens cut through the night, telling all the neighborhood help was on the way. I crouched, pressed a kiss to Tre’s forehead, and left him moaning behind me.
There’s probably a special torture awaiting me in hell for leaving him like this.

I hurried down the sidewalk, checking over my shoulder for signs of pursuit. Storm clouds had moved in, and lightning lit up the night sky, followed by the ominous rumble of thunder. I thought of Thorin and his lineage—God of Thunder. Had he retrieved Mjölnir during our time apart? Helen wouldn’t have given it up without a fight.

The taxi was waiting for me when I reached the diner. I ducked into the backseat and asked the driver to take me to the nearest bus station. Greyhound and I were getting to be fast friends.
I should probably buy stock
.

The taxi pulled away from the curb, and I turned to look out the rear window. Across the street from the diner, centered under a ring of light from a dim streetlamp, stood Rolf Lockhart, looking pristine and untouched by my fire. He raised a hand and waved a two-fingered salute. I gasped and ducked down.
Quit being stupid. He already saw you.

When I looked for Rolf again through the rear window, he was gone. The place where he had stood under the streetlight seemed a little darker than the space around it. I let out a heavy sigh, and the taxi driver glanced at me in his rearview mirror.
Rolf had let me get away.
After his earlier threats, why would he let me go?
Hmm.
Not sure I want to find out.

Chapter Five

A
t the Greyhound station, I bought a bus ticket, and my destination was anywhere that got me out of town quickly. That meant I ended up in the back of a bus traveling north on Interstate 5. Sometime near dawn, the bus stopped at a depot in Sacramento, and I reserved a room at a nearby motel. With paint peeling from the exterior trim and fraying carpet on the outside walkways, the motel looked like the kind of accommodation that attracted truck drivers and traveling construction crews. The parking lot smelled like old pee and ancient hamburger grease. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe no one would think to look for me there.

In the privacy of the motel room, I settled on top of the bed’s polyester comforter—no way was I touching those sheets—and powered on my little burner phone. For so many weeks, I had remained purposefully disconnected, theorizing that my anonymity equaled safety, but Rolf’s appearance had refuted my beliefs, so I had no reason to hold on to them anymore. I sent a text to Nikka, set the phone on the bedside table, rolled over, and let my thoughts drift until I fell asleep. I dozed off and on until my ringing phone brought me fully awake sometime near noon.

“Oh, thank God,” Nikka said when I answered. Panic sharpened her tone. “I didn’t know what happened to you. The police came by and told me Tre had been attacked behind the bar, and then you were missing…”

“I know, Nikka. I was there.”

“What happened?”

“It was that guy at the bar. Rolf Lockhart. But I’ll bet you anything that isn’t his real name.” I rehashed the story of the fight, leaving out my fire and giving credit to Tre for keeping Rolf distracted until I chased him off with the pepper spray.

“Who the hell is this guy, Sabrina? I thought you didn’t know him.”

“I
don’t
know him, but there are a lot of people looking for me that I don’t know. I think it’s safe to say I won’t be back to San Diego. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you in person.”

“Let me help you. I’ll call the police or the FBI, or—”

“No. No, Nikka. Just, please, stay out of it.”

“But if something happened to you, I don’t think I could live with myself.”

“And I’d feel the same way if something happened to you because you got yourself mixed up in my mess. Tre was already hurt because of me. How is he? Is he okay?”

Nikka sighed. “He says he’s all right. Not that he’d admit it if he wasn’t.” A moment of uncomfortable silence passed over the airwaves. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you. You seem like a nice girl. You probably don’t deserve this kind of life.”

I laughed, but it wasn’t warm or friendly. “I
am
a nice girl, and I totally don’t deserve this life.”

“What do you want me to do with your paycheck? Can I mail it somewhere?”

I shrugged even though Nikka couldn’t see it. “Donate it to charity. Put it back into your operating accounts.”

“I won’t hear from you again, will I?”

“No, probably not.”

Nikka sighed. “I’m going to miss those brownies you make.”

“I’ll mail you the recipe, someday. Thanks for everything, Nikka.”

“Try to stay out of trouble, Sabrina.”

“Ha. Too late for that.”

Nikka and I said our good-byes and ended the call. I got out of bed, showered, and changed into fresh clothes. My little black phone sat on the nightstand, daring me to pick it up again and make the call I dreaded most of all. With a huff, I snatched the phone, flipped it open, and hit the button preprogrammed to dial Thorin’s store.

The phone rang once, and I hung up.

I cursed at myself.
What stupid game am I playing?
I dialed the number again and let it ring until someone answered.

“Thorin Adventure Outfitters, Hugh speaking.”

“Hugh?” I said, not aiming to disguise myself this time.

“Not Jackman, Grant, or Hefner, but sexier than all three combined. How may I please you this afternoon?”

“Hugh, it’s Solina Mundy, Mani’s sister.”

Silence.

More silence.

Then a noisy gasp of breath. “Solina? Where in the holy
hell
have you been?”

“Um, I was on vacation.” I poised my finger over the End button in case things got weird. Weirder. Whatever.

Hugh muffled the receiver on his phone, yelled something unintelligible, and came back on the line. “It has been like the hunt for the Holy Grail around here, looking for you. Then you call the store out of the blue like you’re wanting to know if we carry your size in climbing shoes or something. Thorin is going to lose his mind.”

“What else is new?” I muttered.

A growl of background voices carried over the line. “Hold on a sec, Solina. Someone wants to talk to you. I’m going to transfer you to the Boss Man’s office line.”

Hugh hung up, the phone beeped once, and someone picked up on another line. “Miss Mundy?”

My jaw clenched, and my breath stuck in my throat, but I managed to squeak out a thin “Yeah?”

“What in the hell…” Thorin’s voice faded into nonsensical, angry muttering. I swiped my thumb over the End button again, not pressing hard enough to make it work, but close, so close.
Let him say one nasty word to me.

“Is it really you?” Some strong emotion crackled in Thorin’s voice—anger, probably. Murderous rage. Volcanic fury. “How can I be certain?”

“You want me to prove it?” I asked.

“Yes. Tell me, what was the last thing I said to you?”

Heat bloomed in my cheeks when I thought of Thorin’s last words to me, and I desperately did not want to repeat them.

“Sunshine,” Thorin said, sing-songing his nickname for me. “What did I say?”

I grunted and spat the words out, rapid as a machine-gun. “You said you weren’t like Val. That you wouldn’t make his mistakes.”

Thorin cleared his throat and said, “Ah. It
is
you.”

“You also said you didn’t waste time playing games. I’m not your mouse, and you’re not my cat, so let’s stop screwing around.”

Thorin growled. “You got a lot of explaining to do, Miss Mundy.”

I ignored his formal use of my name. He was doing it to rile me, and I refused to take the bait. Instead, I rose to my feet and paced the short space at the foot of my bed. “I don’t have a lot of answers, unfortunately.”

“But you’re safe for the moment? Whole? No wolf nipping at you?” Thorin held his tone even, his voice low, but that cool demeanor didn’t fool me for a second.

“Safe as houses.” I didn’t fully understand the expression, but Val had used it once.

“Tell me where you are. I’ll come get you.”

And that was what I wanted, right? “Where’s Skyla?” I asked instead.

Thorin made a hacking noise in his throat. “The last I knew she was with you.”

“So, she’s still missing?”

“Yes, Miss Mundy. She is.”

“Damn.” Thorin had been one of my last hopes for leads on Skyla’s whereabouts. His lack of knowledge meant I had one card left to play, but only when the time was right.

“I assumed you two were together somewhere—that Helen had taken you—but after she failed to make her move, we all started to wonder. Tori told me about your dream. What the
hell
were you thinking?”

There it was—the animosity I had expected. “I was thinking about saving your life.”

“By putting your own at risk?”

“You’ve all but pounded it into my head that your—how’d you put it—your
perpetuity
is the most important thing to you. I don’t know how you expected to perpetuate with Odin’s spear piercing your heart. You can call it a lie if you want, but I saved your lives. You and Val both.”

“Only to put yourself right back in the middle of the situation we have all risked so much to keep you away from.” Something banged on Thorin’s end of the line, probably his fist on the counter. “You should have told me. I do my own fighting.”

“I know you can fight. I’m aware you are a freaking superhero, but how can you protect me if you’re dead?”

Thorin roared, “How can I protect you if you
keep things from me?
”

“Skyla—” I started.

“Skyla is human, and what good did that do for any of us?”

“The Valkyries—”

“Inyoni and Kalani are dead. We found their bodies eviscerated and—”

“You found their remains?” I asked. “What did you do with them?”

“Brought their bodies back to the Aerie and let the Valkyries do with them what they saw fit.”

“How did you know to look for us at Oneida? There’s been nothing in the news about what happened out there, and the only people who could tell you where we were are dead or missing. You said that truck you gave us was a ghost. I knew you were lying about that.”

“It
was
a ghost… for all intents and purposes other than my own.”

“So you tracked the truck and found it at Oneida. Good for you. Shall I call you Sherlock?”

Thorin grunted. “I want you to tell me exactly what happened out there.”

And I want to think about anything
but
that night.
The events of Lake Oneida had created more problems than solutions, and Hati’s death was the only worthwhile consequence of that confrontation. Perhaps Thorin sensed my reticence and sympathized because he softened his tone. “Tell me, Sunshine. You didn’t come back from the dead and call me for no reason. I can’t help you if I don’t know everything.”

I shook my head and chewed on my lip while I tried to think of something to say, but no words came to mind. I shook my head again, stopped, wobbled around on my heel, and lurched toward the bed. A great big ice ball had settled in my stomach, and it chilled my blood. I curled up on the comforter and hugged a pillow close. “I don’t know what happened. It defies my ability to explain. Nate was there, and he said—”

Thorin cut in. “Nate? What was he doing there?”

“Helen’s bidding, I assume. Being Helen’s lover must have its perks.”

“They’re not lovers.”

“But they were all over each other that night we met them in Juneau.”

“They’re family.”

I gagged. “Eww!”

“Nate was once better known as Nott, son of Narfi. Narfi’s father was Loki, and Loki, as you know, was Hela’s brother. That makes Nate Helen’s nephew.”

“Still,” I said. “Ew.”

“Who else was at the lake?” Thorin asked, ignoring my commentary.

“Hati and Skoll. Skoll was in wolf form, and Hati… Hati was a man.” Slowly, haltingly, I told him the story of that night, of how I’d killed Hati and transformed into a shooting star.

“Hati’s dead,” Thorin said. “You’re certain?”

“He was all but charcoal when I saw him last. Do the wolves recover from that kind of thing?”

“We found no wolf remains.”

Neither had I, but I wasn’t going to tell Thorin I had gone back to the lake, not unless my confession was utterly necessary. “Maybe Nate took his ashes. Better than thinking Hati regenerated.”

Thorin scoffed. “I assure you he’s a wolf, not a phoenix. You’re certain he died?”

“I didn’t stick around to take a second look, but yes. I turned him to ash and bone. I’m sure of it.”

A moment of silence filled the line before Thorin exhaled and said, “Unbelievable. The original Sol could do such things but no one since then.”

“I doubt there’s been a need for it. Seems the real sun has been getting along fine without my help.”

I put down my pillow, relieved by the catharsis of sharing my story. I could have made a life with friends like Nikka and Tre, but it would have been hollow, based on lies and misdirections. Living a common life would have meant ignoring an elemental part of myself.
How can I be happy having to hide myself like that?
I had spent only a few minutes on the phone with Thorin, someone with whom I didn’t have to pretend or lie, and I already felt more like my real self than I had in weeks.

“What about Val?” My heart danced a panicky beat at the thought of reuniting with my brother’s best friend and my former… something. “Where is he?”

“Looking for you. We parted ways after following your trail to Oneida Lake. He’s had his nose to the ground, sniffing for clues.”

“Did he find anything?”

Thorin grumbled again. “Not even a whisper.”

I pumped my fist in victory.
Off-the-grid Solina—sign me up for black ops, and kiss my grits, James Bond.
“Thorin, I think
someone
knows where I’ve been.” I told him about Rolf Lockhart.

Thorin put steel into his voice when he said, “Where are you right this moment?”

“At a hotel in Sacramento.” I gave him the street address and my room number.

“Sacramento? What the
hell…?
” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Never mind. Stay put. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.” He paused and added a final warning. “And wherever we go from there, from now on, you won’t leave my side. I thought I could trust the Valkyries to protect you. I thought I could trust
you
to know better than to go out on your own.”

“You want something done right, you gotta do it yourself?” I asked, my words thick with derision. “I’m not going to run from you, Thorin. If I were, I wouldn’t have called you in the first place.”

“You could always change your mind.”

“I could, but I won’t. You’ll have to take a chance on me whether you like it or not. I’m guessing you will.” I thumbed the End button and cut off the call before Thorin replied. He would show up for no other reason than he couldn’t stand to let me have the last word. And because he liked to think he was in control.

I chuckled to myself.
He’s going to be so disappointed.