Demon Crossings (6 page)

Grace lost her breakfast, spinning around and dropping to her knees to spew pancakes and coffee, sickly sweet and bitter with bile. She was sure he’d done that on purpose to distract her. She wouldn’t be able to get that wet cracking sound out of her head, not ever. Her stomach lurched again but there was nothing left to come out. Before she knew it, Aiden was back, standing over her and helping to pull her hair from her face.

“You came for Maia. I couldn’t figure out why you were so interested in her at the diner. Why you kept looking at Dan.”

She swiped the spit from her mouth and ignored the folded tissue he held out to her. “I got lost,” she insisted.

“Bullshit. How did you track her?”

Grace shook her head and her stomach cramped up. Aiden stepped on her gun and crouched down to slip her fingers free. “I need to know how you tracked her.”

She glared at him. “I need you to explain that
thing
to me.”

“That’s simple. You shouldn’t be able to see it. The sheriff,
anyone human
would see a big dog, maybe a wolf. Carl saw a wolf because he saw your fear and the damage to your car first. It’s a glamour. The same thing that made him see a hunting rifle instead of the sword.”

“You’re going to need to come up with something better than that. Something that makes sense.”

She reached for her other gun and was surprised to find it missing. When she looked up at Aiden, he only smiled. This one never touched his eyes. They remained icy, calculating and narrowed on her.

“Or what? You’ll drag the sheriff back here to look at another dead dog?”

“That is not a dog.”

“You might as well call it a chupacabra. Didn’t you see the way Carl looked at you? He was trying to decide if you were going to be a danger. To me. I went to kindergarten with him. My family has known his for the better part of the last century. Who do you think he’ll believe—me or some psychic from St. Louis?”

She paused halfway to her feet and then straightened slowly. “How did you know that?”

“I found your wallet. It’s amazing what you can find on the internet these days.”

She sneered. “And here I thought I’d finally found an honest man.”

He stopped walking away from her, ran a hand through his hair and turned around. “I’m as honest as this world allows me to be.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

He looked at her and some of the ice in his eyes thawed. “I think you know exactly what I mean.”

Her eyes lifted to the hilt of that terrifying sword poking up over his left shoulder, and she shook her head.

“What are you?”

She turned around when she heard the crunch of gravel and the low hum of a car approaching. A moment later, a silver SUV pulled up and a black-haired man hopped out, barely glancing at the headless thing bleeding into the dead grass. He paid a lot more attention to her, looking her over from head to toe and back again before turning to Aiden and pointing at the decapitated monster lying between them.

“This the last one?”

“Yes.”

Grace took another step back, away from the woods. “There are more of these…these things out there?”

The man gave her another longer, harder look but spoke to Aiden. “Was this your complication from last night?”

Apparently, Aiden didn’t like his friend’s tone of voice, because he moved to stand next to her. “This is Grace. Grace—Fen. She can see past the glamour.”

“Bull.”

“Carl just left. Get rid of this before anyone else comes through. Carl saw a wolf.”

“A wolf, eh?”

“Grace killed it with her car but the car apparently didn’t fare so well. He saw the damage first. We’ll need to have Chris tow it in.”

Fen eyed her with new respect. “
You
killed a fire demon.”

“With a Focus,” Aiden said.

“I would have liked to have seen that.” Fen grinned at her, a wicked toothy grin that made her feel hunted. “What clan are you from?”

She looked at him blankly and Aiden tossed the head on the tarp. “She thinks she’s human.”

Fen’s smile disappeared, replaced by open suspicion. “What’s she doing here then? You said—”

“She tracked Maia.”

Fen swore. “That’s impossible.”

Aiden pointedly avoided her gaze. “I know. Let’s get this done first.”

Fen played his music loud, some song she didn’t recognize with a throbbing bass and garbled words she wasn’t sure were English. Aiden, gentleman that he was, had taken the backseat, so Grace wasn’t close enough to the tarp-wrapped corpse of the monster to even take a peek if tempted. Part of her wanted to see it one last time just to prove to herself that she wasn’t going crazy. Although, there would be a measure of comfort in crazy.

She stared out the window and Aiden, she knew, stared at her. Even if he’d run a search on her, what could he have found out? She’d been careful to keep a low profile and had never once mentioned the word psychic. She’d learned that lesson the hard way long before reaching adulthood. She kept her gift to herself. Mike, who didn’t let on if he suspected anything strange, never talked to the papers and she was careful about covering her tracks with her clientele.

There was that one newspaper article from when she was fifteen. Her four-year-old foster sister had wandered off into the woods and Grace had been the one who found her. It had to be moldering away on microfiche somewhere, didn’t it? But Aiden, when he’d called her a psychic, had sounded dead sure about it, and she
had
been able to see that monster. She still had no explanation for that. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

Lost in thought, she barely noticed when the truck rocked to a stop. Fen waved a hand in front of her face, whistling to catch her attention. “Your girl’s not looking so hot, Aiden. Mind getting her out of my truck before she pukes again?”

She glared at him. “I’m fine. And I’m not his girl.”

He gave her that toothy grin again. “If you say so. I’m not going to argue with anyone who can track a portal jump and do that—” he nodded toward the back, “—to a fire demon.”

Her stomach lurched just thinking about it and she stumbled out the door, nearly falling into Aiden’s arms. He steadied her and said to Fen, “Collect Christian and the twins when you’re done and meet us back here.”

Fen took off and she stood staring at Aiden’s shirt. The cotton clung to his broad chest and the worn leather strap securing his scabbard slashed through the tractor logo. His hands circled her arms above the elbow, warm, firm, steady. He made no move to pull her closer and she made no move to step away. She badly wanted to be held, tucked into someone’s arms like a child, and told everything was going to be okay. Instead, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath of clean air and tried to collect herself. She could handle this.

Without warning, Aiden lifted her into his arms and started carrying her toward the house. “Hey—” She glared up at his set face but he was watching where he was going.

“Shush. You’re white as snow and about as cold.”

“Put me down.”

He swung her to her feet when he reached for the door but slipped his arm around her waist to keep her close while he opened it. Her shirt shifted and his rough fingers brushed the skin above her waistband. She froze but when he bent to lift her again, she jerked back. “I can walk.”

“Why not let me help you?” His frown eased into a wry smile and he touched her cheek. “Honey, you smell like puke and look like you’re going to pass out. You’re falling apart right now. This is not me making a move.” He nudged her chin up until she met his heated gaze. “If I do, you’ll know.”

Her knees chose that moment to buckle. He grinned but didn’t try to pick her up again. His arm tightened around her to keep her from falling and then he led her inside the cool, quiet house. It felt safe and that should have made her relax but instead she started shaking and couldn’t seem to stop. She didn’t even trust herself to say anything. She hadn’t thought he was making a pass; she just didn’t like people touching her.

Except for now, because when he pulled her over to the couch and sank into the soft leather, sliding her onto his lap and tucking her head beneath his chin, nothing had ever felt better. He murmured something against her hair and a shudder ripped through her body. She could feel the muscles in his arms flex instinctively to help ward off the next one, not as big this time. His hand stroked her bare arm, slow and steady, up and then down in sync with his even breath. He was warm, hot everywhere her body was pressed to his. He smelled like the soap from his shower that morning, clean and masculine. Even with everything that had happened, she was still attracted to him, still eating up his kindness. It was a trap for her, especially now when she knew he wasn’t exactly what he seemed.

She pulled back and he let her go, reaching to grab a tissue to hand to her. She swiped at her face then stared at him for a second. There was a watchfulness to him, a sense of bound power and absolute control, but it wasn’t a hard look he was giving her. Not at all. If she didn’t know better, she’d say it was closer to sympathy. Wordlessly, she disentangled herself and crossed to the chair under the big window. She kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet under her.

Hooking one arm over the back of the couch, Aiden stretched out his longs legs. Afternoon light slashed through a gap in the curtains and touched his hair, picking up glints of gold and copper. “We can talk now or you can take a shower and wait for everyone to get here.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That bad, huh?”

“They won’t care what you look like. We’ve all faced our share of fire demons and no one will fault your reaction. If you need time to regroup, you have it.”

“
That’s
your explanation?” She searched his face for some sign that he was joking, but he just stared back, deadly serious. Her eyebrows shot up. “Demons?”

A bare shadow of a smile touched his lips. “That’s generally what we call them but you’ll hear other names too. Sons of Muspel. Fire demons. The old gods of death and chaos.”

“Gods,” she repeated flatly.

“No more than we are,” he said, choosing each word carefully. “But then, we’re not entirely human either.”

Uh-huh. “And who exactly is we?”

“Me, Fen, all the residents of Ragnarok and, I strongly suspect, you.”

“I’m not…whatever the hell you think you are.”

He studied her face for a moment and then let out a sigh. “You really don’t know anything about this, do you?”

“I know you’re crazy and I want my gun back.”

He got up and walked into the foyer where he’d left his sword and her guns. When he came back, he dropped both guns into her lap then sat back down on the couch. “Better?”

She checked the clip and nodded tightly. How had she misjudged him so badly? She’d gotten too used to trusting her instincts. Careless and stupid. But Aiden looked so freaking normal. Even now, sitting back and running a hand through his hair, he seemed like an honest, hard-working man not particularly pleased to be having this conversation. Like he was getting ready to tell her some bad news about crop failure or sick cattle. Like he didn’t want to do this but was too honorable to shirk his duty.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he said. “I’m not crazy, Grace, and neither are you.”

“Then explain this to me. I mean, come on…
demons?
Tell me how that’s supposed to make sense.”

“I’m stuck with the truth. The names aren’t really important anyway. Just hear me out and then I’ll answer whatever questions you have.” He swallowed a frustrated laugh and leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees. “Do you know anything about the Norse gods or their legends?”

She actually knew quite a bit about Norse mythology. At the hospital, she hadn’t been allowed to read fiction and had developed a fascination with mythology.
Gods of Northern Europe
and
Bulfinch’s Mythology
were old favorites. But she wasn’t going to tip her hand until she figured out where he was going with this.

So, she cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips. “You’re not going to say that you’re Thor and ask if I want to see your big hammer, are you? Because let me tell you, Aiden, there’ve got to be easier ways to pick up women. Even out here.”

He scratched at his jaw, a flush of color riding high on his cheekbones.

She choked on her laughter. “Oh, God.”

“Odin,” he said, “not Thor. And it’s an honorary title. The real Odin died when Asgard fell. Dozens bear that title now, leading the different clans.”

“You’re serious.”

“This isn’t a joke. You’ve seen the demons.”

Indeed she had. She’d been hoping for a reasonable explanation like drugs in the water. Genetically engineered superhogs. Something horrific but not crazy. She started to rise but he caught her wrist, a plea in his eyes. She sat down but only after she remembered she had no way of leaving unless she was willing to walk fifty miles to the next town or steal his truck.

“Thank you,” he said and she nodded. “You really know nothing about this?”

“About demons and Norse gods? In Iowa? Nuh-uh. Nope. Not ringing a bell.” She crossed her arms over her chest, noticed the way Aiden’s eyes followed the movement and unexpectedly felt a brief flare of triumph. She was seriously disturbed.

“Your parents should have told you.”

“They’re dead.”

The stern set of his face yielded to sympathy. “Grace…I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” Not precisely true, but she didn’t want to talk about her parents. “So why don’t you explain it to me…Odin.”

He winced like her distrust hurt him and she felt vaguely guilty.

“Okay, then. The basics,” he said, pushing forward. “The Celts called Odin a god but he was only a man, a very gifted man, who was able to travel between dimensions. He was the leader of a tribe called the Æsir, the tribe I’m descended from. All of the people who live in Ragnarok are Æsir descendants. Our world, Asgard, was destroyed a long time ago, overrun by creatures like the one you saw today. We’re refugees here. Our world tied to this one with a fault line on this land that allows passage between dimensions. We guard the portal to keep the demons from crossing over.”

“You’re talking about Asbrú,” she whispered, shocked into carelessness. “The burning bridge.”

Norse mythology held that there were nine worlds bound together by Yggdrasil, the great tree. Asbrú connected Asgard, home of the gods, to Midgard, the human world. And…she started to laugh again. “Ragnarok. I knew it sounded familiar. Why on earth would you pick that name?”

His jaw clenched. “So we never forget. Not who we are or where we come from. We don’t forget what happened to our home.”

“So you named your town Apocalypse, Iowa?”

She stopped laughing when she saw the look on Aiden’s face, angry and suspicious. She’d slipped, mentioning Asbrú and talking about Ragnarok.

“You know more about us than you let on.”

She shrugged. “I liked to read books about mythology when I was a kid.”

“That’s a strange interest for a child.”

“I was a strange child. Not, apparently, as strange as you.”

“I’m telling you the truth.”

She thought of the quaint little town with its two-lane bowling alley and cozy diner. Marly, Maia, that clerk at the gas station. Shaking her head, Grace still couldn’t believe she was actually having this conversation. Nothing about Aiden said he was joking, but he had to be, right?

“The people in this town,” she said. “They’re normal people. Not soldiers, not aliens and despite what you might think about yourself, Aiden, you’re no god.” His lips thinned but he didn’t interrupt. “Is that what Fen meant when he asked me what clan I belong to?”

“There are others like us. Other portals. Other clans.” He lifted his chin. “You had to have come from one of them.”

“I came from St. Louis.”

He smiled faintly. “Even so.”

No, he didn’t understand. “My parents…they weren’t like me. My mother…” She trailed off, not wanting to go there. Aiden raised an eyebrow waiting for her to continue but she shook her head. “Never mind.”

“Your parents had Æsir blood but no manifested talent. That’s not unusual and it’s probably why they decided they were safe to run. I can send out inquiries to the other clans if you’d like, see if we can find a match. You might have family.”

She swallowed and shook her head. He didn’t understand. Her mother had been scared of her. If she was what Aiden said she was, she wouldn’t have been blindsided by a psychic daughter. “My family is dead and they were human.”

“But you can sense things others can’t, right? Did you have strange visions as a child? Ever think maybe your nightmares were a little too real?”

Enough.
“Let’s say—just for the hell of it—that I believe you. I won’t tell anyone. You’re right about that at least. No one would believe me anyway. This meeting you’ve called isn’t necessary. I won’t talk and as soon as I can get a rental or a ride, I’ll be on my way.”

He looked at her for a long time before standing to cross the room. He paused beside the mantle and touched the frame holding his daughter’s picture. “There’s just one thing.”

She braced herself. Okay, this was it. The part where he asked her to join his little cult. “Yes?”

When he turned around, he looked reluctant, uncertain for the first time since she’d met him. But then he fixed those sharp eyes on her and the impression was gone. He was the same Aiden—stern, determined, self-sure. “I want to hire you.”

She blew out a pent up breath and eased back in her seat. Ever since she’d seen that picture, she’d been planning on going after the girl once the job with Maia was done. It wasn’t in her to turn away from that, money or no. Nut job father or no. She nodded. “We’ll work out a contract.”

“No,” he said. “I don’t think you understand—”

He cut off when the front door opened. While Aiden moved to greet his guests, Grace tried to clear her head. Fen scared her. Something about him seemed half wild, his eyes were a little too bright, his smile too sharp. She wondered about the others. And she wondered what was really going on here. If this was some kind of prank, it was an elaborate one. And she could think of no reason for it.

She counted four car doors slamming shut and then heard a lot of heavy footsteps on the porch. Aiden’s hushed voice telling them who-knew-what about her. Maybe she was being punked or conned. Or initiated into some weird cult. Maybe he had drugged her at the diner and ambushed her on the only road out of town.