Dark Devotion: Dark Series 3 (3 page)

Odin peered out of the curtains like some goddamn recluse, his eyes scanning the area directly beneath his hotel room. The sidewalk was scattered with a few dozen people, but other than that, everything was quiet.

Perhaps a little too quiet.

He’d been laying low for the past month. One reason was because he was still in mourning for the loss of his wife, Frigg. Despite the estrangement, despite the infidelity, he had still loved her. The other reason he’d been more vigilant about protecting himself was because he had a target painted on his back, and his dear blood-brother Loki was the one taking aim.

Loki had always been difficult to handle – even when he was among the Aesir in Asgard. A long time ago, Odin had laughed off Loki’s behavior as nothing more than harmless pranks meant to make people laugh, but it was the Trickster’s involvement in the death of Odin’s most favorite son Baldr that changed everything. Loki had simply gone too far. Driven by a rage Odin had not felt since that day all those thousands of years ago, he had done what he said he never could and imprisoned the man he called brother, killed Loki’s wife and son, and not felt a shred of regret for it.

The bonds that held Loki were supposed to hold him forever …

But now Odin was being hunted.

Once powerful, once feared, he had been reduced to skulking from shadow to shadow to protect himself. After the Fall – a time when the humans stopped believing in the gods – everyone had abandoned him. His wife, his Valkyries, the other gods, but the biggest blow had been losing Brynhildr. She was his first Valkyrie, the one who he had poured most of his soul into when he gave her immortality. They were unequivocally bound in life and death – if Brynhildr died, then he could be killed by a mortal wound too.

All he’d ever wanted was to protect her, but she never saw it that way. She claimed that he was controlling and manipulative, but all of his actions had been in her best interests, always. The last time he’d seen her – had tried to speak reasonably with her – she had been … unreceptive to what he had to say.

And now he was powerless and the only person he could depend on was himself.

He had to get rid of Loki. Imprisoning him again was an option, but Odin was thinking of something much more permanent and much more painful. Odin had to protect himself, and if Loki’s death was the only way, then that was the way it had to be. But how was he supposed to kill him?

Loki was a god, just like any other Aesir, but Odin had gifted him with extra protection so it was as if he were Odin himself. He didn’t know whether he could be killed by conventional means, and the only weapon he could think to use against him was a Valkyrie’s sword. All it would take was one of them to cut Loki and he would die. There was just one problem: Odin was not on good terms with any of his warriors anymore. They would sooner watch him burn than throw water on him to douse the flames.

Despite Odin’s vast knowledge, he could not see into the past and future. He needed to call upon the Norns again – three women who knew all that has been, all that is and all that will be. After striding over to his desk, Odin picked up the bespoke letter opener and pressed the tip to his finger. Blood welled instantly. He approached the fire burning in the hearth and allowed three drops of his blood to fall into the flames – one for each of the three sisters.

“Skuld, Verdandi, Urd, I summon you to me,” Odin announced. The fire hissed with each droplet of blood, consuming the small part of him hungrily, yet nothing more happened. He turned around, unbuttoned his suit jacket and rolled his shoulders. He didn’t like to wait. It only confirmed his fall in station. He walked toward the window and peered out once more. His paranoia was getting worse with each passing day.

“You called for us, All-Father?” Verdandi’s voice was a gentle caress, a whisper that could barely be heard over the crackle of the fire. He spun around.

The three sisters looked as different from the other as they could; Urd had black hair and eyes, Verdandi had blonde hair and blue eyes and Skuld had red hair with green eyes.

“I did,” Odin said. He sank into his wing-backed chair and crossed his legs at the ankle, studying all three of them. “What took you so long?” he demanded.

Urd gave him a disapproving look, something she would not have dreamed of doing one hundred years ago. “We’re here now. What do you want?”

He bit the inside of his cheek. The impertinence of the woman was infuriating. “I need information.”

“Clearly,” Urd shot back. Odin settled back in his chair and leveled her with a hard stare. Crossing her arms over her chest, she jerked her chin up a little and stared right back.

He could antagonize the woman, but he didn’t have time for that. Instead he shifted his attention to her sisters. He knew that both Verdandi and Skuld still feared him. “Verdandi,” he said loudly. The woman flinched a little, her blue eyes widening as she looked at him. “I need to know about Loki.”

“All-Father?” she replied.

“I need to know how to … kill him,” he said carefully.

Verdandi’s gaze flickered first to Skuld then to Urd. She looked at her oldest sister for a long time, an unspoken conversation passing between them. “Kill your brother?” Verdandi eventually replied.

“Isn’t that what I said?” he ground out.

“Forgive me, Odin,” Skuld said, “but there is no way.”

“There must
some
way to kill him, just as there is a way to kill …” He clamped his lips shut. Urd snorted derisively. Biting his tongue, he added, “Loki
must
have a weakness.”

“There is a way to kill the Trickster.” Urd walked toward him. She was the only one of the three who was curvy – more seductive. “Loki’s greatest weakness is his family,” she said smugly. “Only a true blood relation can kill him.”

That was a fact Odin had already been aware of. Loki had four children. The first was Hel, the woman who became the goddess of the underworld; the second was Jormungand, a giant serpent who encircled the world; the third was Fenrir, the monster wolf that was still bound under the earth as far as Odin knew; and finally there was Sleipnir, Odin’s former eight-legged steed. To his knowledge, all of Loki’s children were fiercely protective of their father, even more so since his imprisonment.

“None of his children would attack their father,” he said, feeling hope drain from his body.

Heavy silence fell onto the room. He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he did not take any notice of the Norns anymore. They could have faded away from his presence for all he knew, and when he finally looked up, Urd and Skuld indeed had. Verdandi, however, remained.

“All-Father,” she said quietly. “Urd will not tell you this, but I will.”

Odin’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

“Do you remember what happened on Alfheim over fifteen hundred years ago?”

He studied the woman while he rifled through his memory banks. Alfheim was the world where the light elves thrived. Their whole existence was a peaceful one, except there was one black spot in their history; Loki had been responsible for it.

“I do,” he replied, recalling the event the light elves still referred to today as The Crucifixion. It wasn’t a crucifixion in the sense that humans and their Christianity knew it though. There were no wooden crosses, no nails. There were, however, persecutions, torment and torture, and all because Loki had unleashed his son onto the light elves in the name of fun.

“The women Fenrir … despoiled …” Verdandi paused, obviously considering her words very carefully. “They all eventually succumbed to their injuries.”

“Of this I am already aware.”

Verdandi grasped the ash tree pendant at her throat, rubbing her thumb over it repeatedly. “Yes, but did you know that one survived? The female gave birth to a son … a son who survives to this day.”

“Are you saying that Fenrir has a son – that Loki has a grandson out there?” If it were true, how had he not known about it?

“The woman protected the identity of her child from everyone … even you, All-Father.”

Odin glared at Verdandi. The Norns had a way of seeing his thoughts, and that fact irritated him. He huffed under his breath and turned around to face the window once more. Resisting the urge to peer out the curtains again, Odin settled for re-buttoning his jacket. “Where is this man now?”

“Here in Chicago.”

Aubrey looked at himself in the mirror, brushing his fingertips against the lapel of his charcoal Tom Ford suit. His tie was the same shade, contrasting against the crisp whiteness of his shirt. He buttoned up the front of the jacket, then unbuttoned it, then buttoned it again.

Fuck.

He was nervous.

The question wasn’t so much why, but who.

Taer.

She’d seen him in nothing more than workout gear, and she’d still wanted him … not that she would have admitted to that. He would break her though. He was determined to get into her panties if it was the last thing he did. He could practically smell the sexual tension whenever they were around each other, and no matter how hard she fought him on it, Aubrey was sure she felt the same way.

The trick was getting her to admit to it.

Turning around, he left his bedroom, collecting the keys to his Lexus as he strode past the hall table. Although he didn’t need a car, he found great pleasure in driving. He took even greater pleasure in the looks of admiration and outright lust that came his way when he drove the high-powered LFA around the streets of Boston. Ostentatious it may be, but he wasn’t afraid to admit that respect was what he craved.

Although if he was honest, he was craving Taer even more. She was a Mare – a dark elf. Revenge had motivated her to ask for his help a few weeks ago, but it was self-interest and lust that had motivated him to help her.

The car door closed with a satisfying
thump
that spoke of precision engineering and Aubrey carefully pulled away from the curb. The traffic was sparse – a phenomenon which only survived in a tiny window between the peak hour rush and the time when young professionals returned to the city to spend big at the many clubs and bars in the downtown area.

Aubrey navigated his way down to the Eye, pulling up into the loading zone outside the front of the club. He didn’t need to worry about being towed though; he had more than half of the Boston Police Department in his pocket. Having that kind of backing was essential for the type of work Aubrey was in.

A line had already formed outside the bar-slash-nightclub-slash-gentlemen’s club – a line Aubrey bypassed completely. A few people cursed him, but he ignored them all. Focusing his attention on the Valkyrie at the door, he met her bi-colored eyes and waited. There was something about the female that he couldn’t place. With her shaved head, she was a soldier – that was clear enough. But there was something else about her. He’d never heard her speak before, and by the looks of the scar running across the front of her throat, he thought that maybe she couldn’t.

After one long eye-fuck, the Valkyrie uncrossed her arms and stepped away from the door. Stepping into the Eye, he nodded to her as he passed.

The first level held the bar. It wasn’t very busy. A lot of people were going straight to the stairs, probably hoping to get access to the club on level two and the strippers up on level three. Aubrey looked for Taer, wondering whether she was working tonight when he didn’t immediately see her.

He finally caught sight of her near the stage. She was wearing a shirt with the club’s logo across the front of her chest, and Aubrey drank in every detail of her. The scar across her throat was on show. Her dark hair was tied back into a high ponytail that bounced on her shoulders as she moved, but the determined glint in her eye was curiously absent. Instead, she looked almost serene.

He moved toward her, reaching for her shoulder as she turned around to wipe down a table. She jumped, swinging around with a grimace on her face and a curled-up fist raised and ready to strike. Recognition flooded her eyes, and she lowered her hand. Aubrey squeezed her shoulder, but when she winced, he pulled away with a frown.

That was when he noticed the bandage. Rage filled him suddenly. The feeling was so intense it staggered him. Pulling her shirt away, he stared at the bloody gauze.

“Who did that to you, Winter Fox?” he demanded, the urge to tear whoever it was apart with his bare hands wrestling with his common sense. It was just like when he’d seen the scar across her throat for the first time, only this time the feeling was ten times stronger.

Her green eyes met his. “He’s dead.”

He
was Darrion, the Mare who had both mentally and physically tortured Taer; firstly by killing her brother and secondly by haunting her dreams. He was the reason Taer had sought Aubrey out to train her to fight him. And for Aubrey, Darrion had been the thorn in his side, the one thing stopping him from expanding his business empire.

“When?” he asked.

“Last night.”

Reaching up, Aubrey ran his hand down the side of Taer’s neck, feeling her pulse fighting to get out. It struck him then just how close he’d come to losing her. He’d manipulated her into killing the guild master purely for personal reasons, but after spending time with her he realized that she meant much more to him than he ever thought she would.

“Do you have any other injuries?” he asked, completely focused on her and whatever she had to say. He had tunnel vision when it came to Taer and he didn’t give a damn. He didn’t care that they were standing in the middle of a room filled with people. He didn’t care that those people were watching them with rabid interest.

She sucked in a deep breath. “Broken wrist, internal bleeding, cut across the ribs, deep shoulder wound …” She rattled them off like they meant nothing, but with every word she uttered, Aubrey’s blood pressure shot up just a little more.

“Are you all right?”

She shrugged. “I’m breathing.”

And he was thankful for that. “Can we speak somewhere more private?”

She shook her head. “I’ve only just started my shift.”

“Come to me later?”

Taer’s expression hardened, her eyes growing cold. A tangle of complex emotions crossed her face and she shook her head tightly once more.

“Taer?” someone called. Aubrey looked over to his right to see a large man standing there. Aubrey straightened as the other male’s dark eyes became two daggers trained on Aubrey’s heart.

Taer stepped in front of him, a physical barrier between them. “I’m coming.” Without turning around, she said to Aubrey, “I’ll see you later.”

As she walked toward the other male, jealousy – something Aubrey hadn’t felt since he was a young man – shot through his body. Who was this other guy? And why did he care? It wasn’t as if Taer belonged to him.

Although she should
. The thought had come out of nowhere. He didn’t want her to belong to him, did he? He wanted to get her flat on her back and begging him for more, but that was it … Wasn’t it?

“Too much to fucking think about,” he muttered to himself, moving through the crowd.

He left the Eye straight away, jumping back into his car. He hit the gas and yanked on the wheel, fishtailing onto the other side of the road briefly before straightening out. The driver he’d just cut off slammed on the horn. Aubrey wound down the window and flipped the guy off before accelerating, leaving the Honda driver staring at his vanity plates. Aubrey suddenly felt reckless and out of control and it was all because Taer might have another lover. He’d never thought to ask her, but it would explain her reluctance to give into him.

That
thought unnerved him.

Was he willing to fight for Taer?

The answer scared him more than the question.

*

It was close to three am when the doorbell rang. Aubrey was awake; his concern for Taer still had a firm grip on his mind. He wasn’t expecting anyone, so when he got to the intercom on the wall, he pressed the button and waited.

“Hello?” a voice asked after a few seconds.

“Taer?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Can I come in?”

Aubrey released the lock on the gate and strode to the front door. As he opened it, Taer was closing the main gate on the other side of the courtyard. Propping himself against the door jamb, he waited for her to come to him.

Her work uniform was gone and she was now wearing a black tank top under a leather jacket and a pair of black jeans. Her intense gaze never wavered as she moved toward him, until her eyes dropped to peruse his body. He’d changed out of his suit, and was wearing a pair of sweats and a tee. Nobody ever saw him so casually dressed. He was always working hard to portray an image of power to his work associates and clients. But with Taer, he didn’t feel like he needed to keep up the act.

“How’s your shoulder?” he asked.

Taer winced when she shrugged. “Fine.”

He stared at her for a long, hard minute before stepping back and letting her into his house. He led her through to the kitchen where he filled the kettle and set it to boil.

“Tea?” he asked.

Taer climbed onto one of the tall stools set under the island counter. “Got anything stronger?”

He smiled. Fuck, he liked this woman. “What’s your poison?”

“Vodka.”

Aubrey walked over to the freezer and pulled out an iced bottle of Goose. Collecting two glasses from the cupboard beside the fridge, he walked back over to her. Placing the glasses down, he took off the cap and poured them both half a glass. Taer took hers before he could offer it to her, swallowing down two-thirds of the clear liquid in one mouthful.

“Cheers,” he said, smirking, and then took a sip of his own drink. Taer poured herself another. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Something bothering you?” He instantly regretted the question and settled down on his elbows, leaning down to catch her eye. “What happened with Darrion?”

Taer took a deep breath and winced. “It was bad. He almost killed me.” As she spoke, her voice became softer. “He talked about Adrian, and I … I almost lost it.”

Her knee-jerk reaction to personal barbs was something they’d had to work on. “What made you stop and think about it rationally?”

Her green eyes met his and they blazed with triumph. “You.”

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Your words pulled me back. I remembered what you told me about not being controlled by my emotions. As soon as I took them out of the equation, I was able to think clearly again.”

Aubrey kept his expression serious but on the inside he was puffing up with pride. He straightened up, taking a sip from his glass. “The shoulder injury, it happened before then, right?”

She nodded and swallowed the rest of her vodka. “Yeah. The bastard threw one of his daggers at me.”

“Will it heal?”

“In time.”

Darrion was lucky he was already dead, otherwise Aubrey would have put him in the ground himself. “Why did you come to me tonight, Taer?” he asked. “Here, to my house,” he clarified. “Why not just visit me in my dreams?” Dream walking was a skill only a few Mares possessed, but Taer was one of them. She could breach anyone’s mental shields, enter their minds and manipulate their dreams.

Taer was silent. She reached for her glass, her hand shaking as she brought it to her lips. “I don’t want to do any dream walking for a little while.”

“Because of Darrion?”

“Because of Darrion.”

Aubrey’s smile made her brows rise. “What?”

He walked around the island bench, standing directly behind her and leaning down to run his lips along the same path his fingers had taken earlier. Goose bumps broke out on her skin, and her breathing hitched in her throat. Over her shoulder, he could see her fingers cinching shut around her glass, and he smirked. “I like having you here in the flesh rather than just in my dreams. It means I can do whatever I like to you.”

A small moan broke free of her mouth – a sound that was abruptly cut short. Taer’s shoulders tightened and she became stock-still. “I haven’t touched you,” she whispered.

Aubrey stopped what he was doing, her vow from when they were training ringing in his head with painful clarity.

I’ll make you a deal, Aubrey. The day I voluntarily touch you – when we’re not training together – is the day I’ll let you fuck me.

He chuckled to himself.

They were back to playing their games.