Immortals (Runes book 2) (8 page)

I wanted to ignore him, move away from the window, go downstairs, and lick my wounds, but my mouth tended to move faster than my brain.

“You wish.” He glanced up and smirked. “I’m sitting in my favorite place, and you just happen to be in my line of vision,” I added.

He cocked his eyebrows. “From that look in your eyes, you are plotting something. My untimely death perhaps?”

His previous words echoed in my head.
…the girlish crush you think you have on me, it will pass.

“I’d have to care to contemplate hurting you, bonehead. You’re nothing to me.”

“You know what they say about people who protest too much.” The smile on his face broadened. “Just in case you were wondering, the only way to kill me, or any Valkyrie, is by decapitation, or, if you’re strong enough, reach inside my chest and yank out my heart.”

Then stomp on it. “Thanks for the information. Now go away.”

“No. You go away. I was here first.” He gave me a slow, wicked smile.

This was my favorite spot, and he knew it. “You’re such a jerk.”

“You’ll have to do better than that to get a rise out of me, Freckles. Bye.” He blew me a kiss and wiggled his fingers.

If he wanted me to hate him, he was going to get his wish. I closed the curtains, but the book in his hand reminded me of another. One that meant a lot to him.
Please, let it be there, so I can hurl it at his head.

I hurried across the room to my chest of drawers. Under my panties in the back of the top drawer, my hand closed on the envelope, and I sighed with relief. I opened it, reached inside, and removed the ancient book of runes Torin had given me weeks ago.

Instead of walking back to the window and throwing it at Torin, I brought it to my nose and inhaled. It smelled of leather and his intoxicating scent. For a brief moment, I clutched the book to my chest as though the simple gesture would bring him closer. Maybe if I returned it, he’d start believing me.

No, he just said I needed to come up with something better to get a rise out of him. I needed a better plan. The kind that would make him wish he never threw that girlish crush crap at me.
 

6.
     
PEOPLE ARE SUCH TOOLS

“Where are you going, young lady?” Dad called out when I started out of the kitchen.

“Upstairs.” He opened his mouth, but I quickly added, “I know I’m not supposed to eat upstairs, but I have tons of homework. Please, Dad.”

“Okay, tomorrow…” he cocked his brow.

“I’ll eat downstairs. Promise. Love you.” I gave him a toothy grin and raced upstairs before he could detain me further.

In my room, I placed my plate on the side, picked up garlic toast, and nibbled on it as I continued with the math packet. I enjoyed math most of the time and didn’t mind learning new concepts when the teacher explained them, but trying to understand them on my own was a nightmare. I was tackling the second problem set when a knock resounded on my door.

“Can I come in, pumpkin?”

“Door’s open.” I didn’t look up when he entered.

“You need to take a break,” Dad said.

“I know. I’m almost done.”

He sat on the edge of my desk and crossed his arms. “Your food is cold, your drink untouched, and the oil from your garlic toast is leaving a nice stain on your otherwise nicely written report.”

My eyes flew to the papers on my left. Oh crap! I grabbed the toast, threw it in the garbage can, and shook the crumbs off the top paper. The translucent stain had spread to the other pages under it. “Damn!”

“Watch your language,” Dad said firmly.

“Sorry. I’m out of printer paper, and I wanted to turn this in tomorrow.” I pulled out the paper tray to confirm it. There was only one piece of paper.

“Get some from downstairs
after
dinner.”

“I used it all. I meant to buy some, but…” I checked my watch. It was after nine. “Do you think Kinko’s or Staples is still open?”

“We’ll discuss what to do about your paper problem
after
you eat. Come on.” He picked up the plate of cold meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and peas. It looked good, but then again, he was an amazing cook. My stomach growled, and he laughed.

I guzzled half the glass of the orange juice, got up, and followed him. “I’m starving.”

He snorted. “It’s just like when you were little. You’d forget to eat because you couldn’t stop reading. It’s good to feed your mind, but you must also feed your body. A healthy mind—”

“Needs a healthy body,” I finished. “That’s not necessarily true.”

“Is that a rebuttal?” Dad asked, easing back into a debate-like banter the two of us used to have before his plane crash.

“No, Dad. This is the rebuttal. One name. Stephen Hawking. Bam. Debate over.” I gave him a triumphant grin.

Dad chuckled. “You can’t win a discussion without an explanation. Who is this Stephen Hawking? What has he done?”

As if he didn’t know. I rolled my eyes. “You made me watch the documentary they did on him. He is
the
Stephen Hawking. No explanation necessary.”

“Be specific with his contributions, so I can have a counter argument,” Dad said, tongue-in-cheek.

“I give up.” I suppressed a giggle when he stopped at the foot of the stairs and arched his eyebrows. “I’m afraid I’m not particularly crazy about physics. Most of his theories are impossible to understand, let alone explain.”

“Then you lose, my little debater. You don’t swim a lap by doing a length.” Dad waited for me to join him, draped his arm around my shoulders, and dropped a kiss on my temple. He didn’t have to say he’d missed our heated discussions. I saw it in the twinkle in his eyes. The indulgent look on Mom’s face as she watched us from the kitchen counter said she’d missed it, too.

Dad placed my cold dinner in the microwave, covered it with a paper towel, and punched the buttons. I plopped on a chair at the breakfast nook and waited.

“Did you get a lot of work done?” Mom asked, wiping down the counter.

“I finished today’s math homework and started on the ones I missed. I wrote several reports, but, unfortunately, I ran out of printer paper.”

“Your father keeps some in his home office.”

“Not anymore.” Dad placed the steaming plate in front of me, and I picked up the fork. “I thought I’d drive to the nearest store and pick up some. Most of these megastores sell printer paper, right?”

“You’re not driving anywhere this late at night,” Mom said firmly.

Dad got up. “I’ll get some, honey.”

“No, Tristan. I’m not letting either of you drive anywhere this late.” Mom pulled on his arm until he sat on a chair. “I’ll get Raine paper from next door.”

Dad frowned. “Next door?”

“Remember, I told you we have four teenagers living next door who go to Raine’s school. I was at their house earlier and noticed they had a printer and a fresh box of paper.”

I shook my head, not wanting to be beholden to Lavania or Torin for anything. “Mom, don’t. I can buy some tomorrow.”

“I’m sure Lavania won’t mind. Besides, I meant to invite her and the others over for dinner this weekend and forgot to mention it to her. I want your father to meet them. You two can go back to your debate while I’m gone.” She kissed Dad and squeezed my shoulder.

“I think our accidents really spooked her,” I said. “She’s become clingy.”

Dad chuckled. “Clingy is not a word I’d ever associate with your mother, pumpkin. She’s loving and caring, and extremely fastidious. Have you met these new neighbors?”

I nodded, placing a big chunk of meatloaf into my mouth so I didn’t have to discuss the Valkyries, but I forgot he’d just heated it up. My mouth burning, I jumped up to get water. By the time I sat again, Dad was behind the newspaper. He read while I ate.

“This is good. Is it a new recipe?”

He lowered the paper. “No, same old recipe.”

“I guess I missed your cooking. I tried some of your recipes, but the results were pitiful.”

“Then I’m happy I’m home to cook for you.” Dad folded the newspaper and put it away. His eyes followed me as I rinsed my plate, glass, and utensils, and placed them in the dishwasher. When our gazes connected, I gave him a tiny smile. He didn’t return it.

“I think I’ll go back upstairs.”

“Sit with me for a minute.” He indicated the chair I’d vacated and waited until I sat before adding, “We haven’t discussed what happened to your friends two weeks ago.”

My stomach dropped. That was one subject we’d avoided during the cruise, and I’d hoped it would be history by the time we returned. “I, uh, I’ll probably stop by the cemetery and pay my respects next weekend.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but I don’t think anyone expects you to do that. You already did enough.”

He knew. “I’d still love to. I’d known some of them since elementary school when we started swimming for the Dolphins.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“Oh, no. I’ll be fine. I’ll probably go with Eirik or Cora.”

“Okay.” When he continued to study me, I knew someone must have told him what had happened. Mom and I hadn’t come up with an explanation, and my dad wasn’t someone you bullshitted. I hated lying to him, but I couldn’t tell him about Valkyries and Norns. It wasn’t my job to do that. Mom should have told him eons ago, since she was one of them.

“I have to finish math, Dad.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to talk about what happened at the meet?”

“I can’t. It’s still very fresh and haunting, and talking about it will be like reliving it. Maybe later.” I hurried back up the stairs, but I couldn’t escape my guilt or the hurt expression on his face. I’d never kept a secret from him. He was the one I’d run to when I had problems.

I tried to finish the math problem set, but my heart wasn’t in it. I kept seeing my father’s face. Why hadn’t Mom told him the truth about who she was? Or maybe I was jumping to conclusions. I angled my head and listened for sounds from downstairs, but there was silence, which meant Mom was still at our neighbors. What was taking her so long? I checked out the window.

Lights were on downstairs at Torin’s. Upstairs was in darkness. I wondered if he was already in bed. Memories of how he’d held me until I fell asleep came back to haunt me. I wish I could talk to him. He’d understand my wish to keep the secret of his world from my father. His own parents had believed he’d died during the crusade when he was actually alive. Had he felt guilty lying to his parents? How had he dealt with it?

Voices drifted from downstairs. When they rose, I realized my parents were having an argument. I’d never heard them fight. Careful not to make any noise, I opened my door and crept along the hallway. I caught the tail end of Dad’s question.

“…happened?” His voice was sharp with frustration.

“It was chaotic when I got there, and everyone was panicking. She was in the water being so brave.” Mom spoke soothingly as though trying to calm him down.

“They’re calling her names, Svana. I wanted to punch those bastards. What if Raine was with me when they came to the store?” He added something I didn’t catch.

“What did Nikolaus say?” Mom asked.

“He gave me a long speech about how we’ve been his customers since Raine was a child, how he’s watched her grow into a polite young lady and nothing will change his position. If those people want to boycott his café because of us, so be it. But what if they approach her when we aren’t there? She’ll be defenseless.”

“Our daughter is a strong, intelligent young lady, Tristan. She can take care of herself. Besides, she never goes anywhere alone. She’s always with Cora and Eirik.”

I tiptoed back into my room and gently closed the door. Keeping secrets sucked. It led to nothing but conflict and unhappiness. Dad had sounded devastated and frustrated. He would feel ten times worse once he learned the truth. Poor Nikolaus. Would people really boycott his café because of me?

When Mom knocked on the door, I had reached a conclusion. “You must tell Dad the truth about this whole Valkyrie thing, Mom,” I said as soon as she closed the door.

She was already shaking her head before I finish speaking. “I’ll speak to your father when the time is right.”

“When will that be?”

“Leave this alone, sweetie. Here.” She gave me an unopened ream of printer paper.

I took the pack, but my mind was on Dad. “I hate keeping secrets from him.”

Mom sighed and sat down. “This is not easy for me either. Before this, I’d never kept a secret from your father.”

I blinked as realization hit me. “He knows about you?”

She nodded. “Of course. I told you Norns put us through a lot before letting us go. I had to explain to him what was happening. It took him weeks to come to terms with it. Weeks of questions, asking me to demonstrate my abilities, reading up on Norse pantheon, and more questions. He finally accepted who and what I am. He knows I come from a line of spiritually gifted women. He knew you’d follow in my footsteps and see past the rune veil. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve managed to do so at seventeen and not eighteen like I’d told him. I need a perfect moment to tell him what happened. He’s not going to like it.”

“Are you worried he’ll not approve of my training under Lavania?”

Mom hesitated then sighed. “Yes. But I will talk to him before you start your lessons.”

“I’m starting lessons tomorrow.”

Mom groaned. “Then tonight it is.”

“Have you ever thought of turning him and making him immortal? I mean, he’s growing old while you look the same?”

She laughed. “Yet I’m older than him by thousands of years. If I could turn him, I would have a long time ago, but the stipulations make that impossible. Luckily, I’d already told him about me before the High Council came down hard on us. Besides, at forty-five, your father has more vigor than he had when I met him.”

I made a face. “Eew. Too much information, Mom.”

She chuckled, got up, and dropped a kiss on my forehead. “Goodnight, sweetie. Don’t stay up late. Oh, it was nice seeing Torin again,” she added. “He doesn’t remember me, of course, but he looks…” She sighed.

I tensed. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Honestly? He looks miserable.”