Chapter Ten
Jay
We should go back and challenge the other male. Our mate would accept us then.
It wasn’t the first time my bear had offered the suggestion in the last twenty-four hours. Tempting as it was, it wouldn’t do me a damn bit of good. Freyr would marry her off to someone else if the alliance failed. The Vanir couldn’t waste an opportunity to maintain the upper hand.
He’d drop kick our asses all the way back to Fairchild, I told it. No were-bear alone was going to take down Thrymr. I doubted even an army of us could. Which was why the assistance of the frost giants was so crucial. About the only ones that could put a smack down on Thrymr and his men were the Aesir gods and the elite of Valhalla.
Which was why I couldn’t, or rather shouldn’t, turn back. She was right when she said it had to be done.
But I wanted to be selfish. Hadn’t I gone through enough grief already without this? Hadn’t losing Val been enough for a lifetime? Was I going to have to spend the rest of my life mourning Millie’s absence, too? No. No, I was done living solely for others’ sake. I was going to come back from this battle victorious and claim Millie before Gods and everyone, or I was not coming back at all.
My bear rumbled approvingly. That sentiment, at least, it could get behind.
It had taken some time and creativity to MacGyver a fleet of vehicles large enough to accommodate our forces. It wasn’t as if we could fit a thousand eight-foot-plus giants onto a Greyhound. In the end, we’d rented a hundred moving trucks. With ten giants crammed into the back of each, we’d managed to find a more inconspicuous way to travel than having a hoard of huge, heavily armored giants tramping through the countryside.
It was petty, but I’d actually been a little pleased at how annoyed the whole thing had made Freyr. The expenses added up quickly, especially considering that the trucks weren’t likely to survive the war-zone. But he’d agreed with me in the end. Traveling inter-dimensionally was out with Heimdall watching the gates between worlds. He’d alert the Aesir to the approaching army before we even got close to the battlefield. Moving an army in plain sight of the vanilla mortals was also something he wanted to avoid, so moving trucks it had been. I hoped it pinched his wallet, just a little. He was the one who’d put Millie in an impossible position in the first place.
We were about twenty miles out from Fishburn Park, where the battle had mainly taken place. I began to slow down, and the cars behind me did the same. We were headed into a war-zone. There was no telling what we’d encounter, or who. The last thing I wanted to do was put on the breaks and cause a eighty car pile-up before we reached our destination.
“You love Lady Mildred,” my companion, a Jotun named Gwendolyn, spoke up for the first time since we’d left through the portal in Norfolk. She was one of the shrimpy giants who could actually pass for humans, albeit freakishly tall ones that got stared at in public. To say she had legs for days was barely an exaggeration where she was concerned. She had long blonde hair tucked behind her in a loose tail, and she wore the hell out of her armor.
“What makes you say that?” I muttered. “You only saw me interact with her once.”
“I know what it’s like to be chained to duty, Hanlon. I too must suffer in service to someone else’s political agenda. “
“Got a fella you’re missing back home?” It came out more sarcastic than I’d intended. It wasn’t like she was trying to rub salt in the wound.
“Thrymr sent me away. He didn’t think it would be appropriate to have his lover attend the wedding.”
I finally took my eyes off the abandoned road for a moment to stare at her. “You and the big guy? Why didn’t he just marry you?”
She shrugged. “It was an opportunity we couldn’t pass up. We have not intermarried into the Aesir or Vanir for centuries. I understand why he’s doing it. It doesn’t mean I like it.”
“You’re more pragmatic than I am.” I said, turning onto the next road. It should take us to the park.
“My sister wouldn’t agree,” Gwendolyn said with a snort and small smile. “She thinks I’m soft.”
“When was the last time you talked to her? Looks like you’ve toughened up since she last saw you,” I said.
“I haven’t had contact with her in nearly two years. Skadi was taken captive when the war began.”
I about swallowed my tongue. Skadi, the huntress. Savage, unstoppable Skadi, who was the closest thing to a patron goddess that Norse were-bears had.
“She’s your sister?”
Gwendolyn smiled faintly. “Yes, she is. I am hoping this alliance will give me the chance to rescue her. That alone is why I can tolerate the marriage of my beloved to this new Vanir goddess.”
Well, hell, now I felt bad. Gwendolyn seemed pretty genuine about wanting her sister back. What was my excuse for hating Thrymr so much again? Right, he was not just trying but succeeding at taking my girl.
“I hope you find her,” I said quietly. We lapsed into silence. Okay, so maybe the giants weren’t all bad. Just the tall, kingly ones.
***
The giants were tough, but the dwarves were fast. They scuttled this way and that, like ants overrunning large predators. It took a lot, but slowly a few of the giants fell.
We were still making them pay for every inch. For every one giant dead dozens of dwarves and enemy soldiers fell. We’d demanded their full attention, letting the terrified suburbanites trapped in their ruined homes escape.
“Look sharp!” Gwendolyn cried, leaping high into the air above me. A dwarf wielding, I shit you not, a whirling blender, impaled itself on her spear. Globules of black ichor rained down on me.
“Thanks!” I had to shout to be heard over the general din. To call it a battle would be misleading. That conjured images of rigid formations and gunfire. The fight we were in now was a mess. Blood everywhere, enemies on all sides and the only way to tell who was who was by the armor they wore. The more modern body armor and weaponry belonged to our side, as did the cool, jewel-toned armor of the Jotun army.
The dwarves and opposing shifters wore leather or nothing at all, save furs. Some of these men had no doubt been of the original berserkers. I could feel the desire to cut loose raging through my veins. I knew I would rip out at least a dozen throats with my blunt human teeth before the fury drove me into my bear form. It was tempting to let my human brain slide out of the way and let nature take its course, but it wasn’t necessary. We’d turned the tide. There weren’t enough dwarves to combat us all.
Which was why I wasn’t worried at first when it began to rain. I’d lived on the east coast before. Clouds, fog, and the occasional shower weren’t uncommon. The rain started coming in hard and fast, fat droplets splattering off of Gwendolyn’s armor and down onto me. Heavy, grey storm clouds pressed down and a current of electricity sparked in the air. Lightning flashed from cloud to cloud, giving the battle an eerie shuddering quality in my peripheral vision.
Thunder rolled overhead and something huge and black fell from the sky. Combatants beneath it were crushed into the earth from the force of its decent. When the form straightened, revealing itself to be a man nearly as tall and broad as the surrounding giants, those nearest him flinched away.
Even my bear knew enough to pause and consider before attacking this particular foe. Lightning struck overhead, painting him in shades of white and indigo. His meaty fists were curled around the hammer Mjolnir and the fragile hope I’d had about leaving this field alive crumbled and died. There was no way we’d all survive a battle with this man. The Hollower, the thunder god.
Thor raised his hammer high, and when he brought it down, the whole world seemed to shake apart.