Chapter Twelve
Jay
Millie shot across the battlefield toward the big man before I could even muster enough air to shout at her for coming. This wasn’t a place for her. She didn’t know how to use that sword. She was small and even in that armor, Thor could crush her like a tin can if he got his hands around her.
I exchanged an awed glance with Gwendolyn, who’d landed a few feet behind me. “Is it truly Freya?” she asked me quietly. “That cloak was lost with her when the Aesir attacked.”
“Too short,” I whispered back. “Thor won’t notice that, not while he’s sidetracked, but it will hit him later.”
“Let us hope for our sake that you’re wrong,” she said, climbing to her feet.
All of us, giants, shifters, and dwarves alike watched the conflict unfold, unsure if we should act for fear of getting our asses smote. I think most of us wanted to watch the lightshow, just so we’d be sure who was chasing us down when the battle was over.
Millie shot into the air again, the feathered cloak around her fanning out like a living thing. Higher and higher she flew. I was afraid Thor would gather his wits about him and call down lightning, but he seemed as transfixed as the rest of us. Before our eyes, she began to change. The cloak seemed to fuse to her body, and she folded in on herself, becoming smaller and smaller. Her nose extended to become a cruel, curved beak. Within half a minute, she’d transformed from a small girl to a Peregrine falcon. All that remained to indicate she’d been human at all was the sword clutched in her talons.
No! I wanted to shout at her. While magic was great, it could only bend the laws of physics so much. The feathered cloak could make her immune to the laws of gravity, but now that she’d used its magic, it wouldn’t affect the sword. It would drop to Earth and she’d be a small, defenseless bird.
Apparently, that was the plan. The sword began sliding from her talons, but before it could fall away completely, she began to descend, not really gripping the sword, but guiding it downward toward its target with speed and deadly accuracy. Before Thor knew what had happened, she’d impaled his leg with the sword.
He fell, hammer tumbling from his grip. The nearest solider from our side had the brass balls to rush forward and kick it away from the fallen god. The falcon landed atop the fallen god and began to transform back into a girl. Before he could do more than stir, she’d wrapped her skinny arms around his neck. I recognized the choke hold, and wondered where exactly she’d learned it. Was that lesson from her uncle, or her Viking father?
Thor slumped unconscious and the entire field fell silent. Slowly, silently, the dwarves and enemy shapeshifters backed away, heading for the tree line. I was sure that Millie couldn’t throw around the massive firepower that Thor could, but the healthy gold glow of power told all of them that she could dish out another ass whooping if she so chose. She watched them go with a fierce scowl on her face. When the field was empty of anyone but our people, she removed the helmet, scanning the crowd, looking for one face in particular. When she found me, her face broke into a huge smile. She dropped the helmet to the ground and ran toward me. Before I knew what I was doing, I had dropped my weapon and was running toward her, as well.
The hug sort of hurt, with all the armor in the way. That was fine. I’d take it. I’d strip it off her later and we could compare bruises during the pillow talk. She wound her fingers into my hair and pulled me down for a kiss. My bear roared its triumph in my head. My female was strong, and she was mine.
For how much longer, though? A traitorous little voice murmured in my head. I pulled away. I cleared my throat.
“We should probably get you back to Norfolk,” I whispered. “For your wedding and all.”
She shook her head and tugged me back down. “We’re only stopping at Norfolk to deliver Thor to Thrymr as a wedding gift when he marries Gwendolyn.”
“You mean…?”
“You’re all mine, mister,” she said, eyes shining. “And I’m yours. How does that sound?”
I crushed her to my chest, cursing the armor between us. I wanted every inch of her bared to my sight. I wanted the musky scent of her arousal to perfume the air. I wanted to hear her screaming my name. But we had a four hour drive back to Norfolk. Cuddling in the cab of a moving van would have to do until I could find a hotel.
“That sounds perfect.”
Epilogue
Jay
Spring peonies had started to bloom at the edges of the cemetery, a bright splash of color amongst so much grey. Val didn’t belong in this shady little grove, six feet beneath the ground. It was the first time I’d visited the grave since I’d travelled cross country to Blue Ridge.
After all the chaos and controversy, everyone had agreed that it wasn’t a good idea to try to settle back into the life I’d had in Tennessee. Millie and I had lived with Lucy for the first several months, until there was enough room for us in a cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Freyr had told us we were always welcome to live in Folkvang, Freya’s private hall. Millie had avoided the place for months. It was a pretty hall with comfortable accommodations, but it was filled with soldiers, old friends of her father who tried to tell her tales of his bravery on the battlefield. I was pretty sure she wanted the full account of her father’s life when he was released from the state penitentiary. His wild ride through Fairchild had earned him a few years in jail, and honestly, it was the safest place for her father and Sammy Pullman at the moment. The day of reckoning was coming in a year or two, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be in the house when that particular conversation went down.
“Do you think she’ll mind me being here?” Millie muttered for the third time, kicking at the dirt path as we walked up the slope toward the back corner of the graveyard. “It’s not disrespectful, right? Taking your pregnant girlfriend to your late wife’s gravesite?”
She rubbed her stomach fretfully. She was seven months pregnant and getting huge. I pressed my hand over hers, and felt the baby kick.
“Val would be thrilled that you’ve helped me keep my promise,” I said, taking her hand and leading her to the right spot. Val’s headstone was marble and covered in flowers. We set our bouquet gently down on top of the others. She was still loved, even in death.
“Promise?”
“My promise to live. To move on, when the time was right. I don’t think I could have done it without you. You’re my miracle.”
With some help, we both managed to sit by the grave and we spoke, sometimes addressing Val as if she were truly there with us. After all, do the ones we love ever truly die? A little piece of Val lived in everyone she’d known, everyone she’d been loved by. The overflow of flowers on her grave told me that much.
“So, what do we do?” I finally asked her, staring up at the cloudy grey sky as we walked back to the car. It looked like rain soon. “The Aesir are shaken with the return of ‘Freya’. You know Freyr will want to milk that for all its worth.”
“I’ll play my part for now. But when it’s all over, I want to go home.”
“To Folkvang?”
She shook her head. “To Fairchild. When this is all over, I want a boring, small-town life with a picket fence and a dog.”
“You’re really willing to give it all up? The immortality? The powers? The fancy title?” I was only half-teasing.
“The only title that I want is Mrs. Mildred Hanlon.”
“That can be arranged,” I said with a laugh, and scooped her into my arms for a scorching kiss.
Tonight I’d worship her, a supplicant at an altar. She was my goddess, after all, and I planned to serve for a lifetime.
found himself not exactly fitting in. And that was a first for him.
Finn came to Maine a few weeks ago to train and better himself as the threat