Demons (Eirik Book 1) (24 page)

“That’s impossible. No one can open a portal into or out of Eljudnir. Or we would have all sorts of vermin come here to retrieve souls of their loved ones.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“She doesn’t use portals. One minute I’m in the hall and the next,
poof
, I’m gone.”

She studied me, her pale green eyes looking eerie in the darkened room. “That only happens with souls, which means you really are one,” she said.

I grinned.

“That sucks. I was so sure you were a Mortal brought here by the young god for his amusement.” I stopped smiling while she made a face. “Now the only interesting thing about you is you can talk.”

“Okay, Drama Queen. Just tell me who to talk to about the
Jötun
.”

“My papa would know if someone
is using one of the caves
. The job he does for the goddess makes him a very important person. Not just here, but among our people. So our people always stop by to pay their respects whenever they pass through Helheim.”

“Where can I find him?”

“By the boat on the
Gjöll River.
He escorts the damned souls to Corpse Strand. But you can talk to him during dinner.” She peered into the room and I joined her. “Do you see your friend?”

I guessed the subject was closed. “No, Hayden knows I’m here, so she wouldn’t meekly walk to her resting place. She would run across these halls screaming my name.”

Trudy chuckled. “Eternal Halls, not resting places. Most souls don’t learn to talk for months, Celestia. They are usually too shocked to even think about running, unless they already knew they’d be coming to this place. Like Maliina. She knew about this realm and even visited it, so she ran. Your friend—”

“Knows about this place too,” I said. “She’d never visited, but she is… was curious about it. Hayden would definitely come looking for me, and if she can’t talk, she would cause a ruckus. She is like an unstoppable force of nature.”

“Shh. The goddess is looking over here,” Trudy whispered.

Sure enough, when I looked into the room, the goddess was staring at the closet. Knowing how powerful she was, she’d probably known we were hiding in there the entire time. We both shuffled backward and tried to hide behind the cloaks and dusters hanging inside the closet.

“It’s your fault,” Trudy whispered. “You were talking too loud.”

My jaw dropped. “I swear, you’d throw your mama under the bus to get out of trouble.”

“Would not. Ouch!”

“Serves you right,” I shot back even though I didn’t know what hurt her.

She glared, then looked at her arm and winced. She was bleeding. I cringed and looked away, until she said, “One of the idiots forgot to shrink an artavus.”

She was holding a stick covered with runes. It looked nothing like the artavus Eirik had shown me. She pushed it away and it fell, the sound of a blade hitting the stone floor loud inside the little room.

“Now who is making enough noise to wake the dead?” I asked.

“The only dead person I see in here is you, and you are wide awake,” she shot back.

The doors slid open and we both froze.

“Out, you two,” the goddess snapped.

Since my face was burning, I couldn’t meet her eyes. I lowered my head and saw a scythe. A real, ginormous scythe reapers were supposed to carry. Was that what Trudy had meant by a Grimnir’s artavus?

“Haven’t you outgrown hiding inside this closet and spying on souls, Trudy? And now you are encouraging others.”

“I was hoping there would be another prince or princess—or Elves. Elves are fun.”

Wow, that took serious guts. The way she often walked behind the goddess with her chin low, I’d assumed she was scared of her. From her voice, she was anything but. I glanced at the goddess and wished I hadn’t. She still looked furious.

She dismissed Trudy. “Go home.”

“Why? Celestia is coming to my place for dinner.”

“No, she is not. Her job is to take care of Eirik. Go.”

Trudy curtsied. “Yes, my goddess.”

It was obvious she was pouting. I was busy mentally reevaluating my view of the goddess. She was a contradiction. She could be mean, yet nice when warranted.

“Come along,” she ordered and started across the room.

I followed her, feeling like I was headed to detention. I should be used to it by now. More Grimnirs were already arriving with more souls and gave us curious glances. This time, I saw a few carrying their scythes. I even saw one shrink, the runes on the blade and on the Grimnir’s hand glowing. I didn’t say anything as we went down a hallway behind her throne, the guards trailing behind us. The hallway was similar to the one connecting the tunnel from the east dungeon to the main hall, except this one was wider.

We entered an inner rotunda with a dome-shaped ceiling. The
Jötun
who did it must have used a ladder or something, because it was high. Paintings of people were all over the walls. Happy people. No battle scenes. They weren’t Trudy’s. She preferred landscapes. Statues of the goddess and her brothers in their animal forms, Baldur, and one that had to be her father were strategically placed around the rotunda. There were several empty spots just begging to be occupied. Would Eirik’s statue occupy one of them?

Four hallways led away from the rotunda, and each had two guards. Since they were regular-sized guards, I assumed they were shifter giants.
Jötnar
. I had to remember the difference. Like the ones behind us, they were dressed in black, cloaks floating behind them, daggers at their hips.

Two guards moved aside when they saw us coming. I followed the goddess to a door, which opened to a room I’d seen the first day Trudy opened a portal in my presence. It was the same room with a golden carpet and a king-size canopied bed. On top of the bed was Eirik. Snoring. What was that smell? I leaned in and sniffed when I reached him. He smelled of food and mead.

“Stay here and keep an eye on him,” his mother ordered. “When he wakes, make sure he’s cleaned up, then send one of the guards to get me. I’ll be with his father.” She swept out of the room before I could respond.

Okay. I guess I was back to being a servant again.

I stood there for a moment, not sure whether I was more curious about where Eirik had been or disappointed that I was trying to find a way to get home and he’d been out partying and drinking. I knew he’d told me something the last time I saw him, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember his exact words. Worse, I was starving.

I glanced around, the luxury jarring after the dungeons. I gave myself a private tour. The bathroom was large and done in gray and white granite, the wall striated, and the sinks and a huge tub had gold fixtures. The yellow crystal lights added a warm glow to the room. The walk-in closet was packed with clothes. Some were definitely from Earth. I recognized the designer labels. The fact that they weren’t new meant either Eirik or Rhys had brought them. Sneakers. Boots. No flip-flops, I noticed. Guess he didn’t need them here. In the back were newer clothes made from materials hard to describe—wooly, yet silky to the touch.

Then something registered. I couldn’t see my things. If Eirik had moved here, why hadn’t he brought my things, too? I shook him, but he just mumbled and rolled over, leaving behind bits of food. He had food in his hair. What the hell had he been doing? Having a food fight?

“Eirik!” I pushed.

“Go. Away.”

“No, I won’t. Where are my things?”

He mumbled something unintelligible. Annoyed, I gripped the back of his hair and pulled. He protested. When I let go, there was something sticky in my hand. Blood.

I fought dizziness.

I squinted, parted his hair, and saw the wound. Blood drained from his head. I was going to suck it up and clean it. Whatever party he’d attended, there must have been some serious fighting because that was a big cut. Why hadn’t he taken care of it with his healing runes? Stupid question. He hadn’t because he was drunk.

Idiot. I poked the bump and he protested again.

“I hope it hurts.”

I went to the bathroom and searched the drawers for anything I could use on his cut. First-Aid kits weren’t in magical realms. I should have brought more things from home other than the winter stuff, Pedialyte, and chocolate.

I wetted a facecloth and went back to take care of his head. One swipe and it started to bleed. After many trips, which included brushing pieces of bones, meats, and soggy bread from his hair, I contemplated dragging him to the showers and sobering him up with freezing water. I placed a dry facecloth on the clean wound and sat back with a grin. Having a nurse in the family had its perks. I got to learn a thing or two about wounds.

As though to thwart my efforts, Eirik turned his head and the cloth fell off.

“Grrrr, I swear if you were awake, I’d punch you.”

I needed a hat of some kind to hold the cloth in place. I walked through his closet and came up empty-handed. Then I remembered my backpack. My bunny-eared hat should fit him. If not, I’d seen a winter hat in his bag in the dungeon.

I stepped away from the bed and focused on the old room. Nothing happened. I tried again and again. So, I couldn’t create portals from these rooms. The guard looked at me questioningly when I opened the door. Two of them had moved closer to Eirik’s quarters.

“You can’t leave the room, miss,” one said.

“Says who? I need my things and they’re in the dungeon.”

They looked at each other.

Getting impatient, I said, “I’ll open a portal and grab them.” They still hesitated. “Okay, you open one and I’ll follow you.”

“You can open one in the rotunda, miss,” the first one who’d spoken said.

I walked past them and they followed me. I could hear them whispering. Had the goddess told them I shouldn’t leave? I opened a portal once I reached the rotunda.

“Holy crap!” It looked like someone had taken a giant hammer and smashed everything in it. Or a giant with a hammer. The only thing left standing was the slap of rock that was once Eirik’s bed. There was no way I was going to search through the debris for my backpack and his bag. I let the portal close, my stomach growling.

I glanced at the guards. “Do you know what happened here?”

They shook their heads, but their eyes gave them away. Liars. I turned and went back to Eirik’s bedroom. I needed something to use as a bandage. An elastic one would be better.

I looked around the room, until it hit me. There was another possible solution. I removed the sweater I’d borrowed and pulled off my undershirt. It was the only elastic fabric in the room. I knotted the top with the straps and the bottom to create a makeshift hat. Carefully, I held the cloth over the wound and slid the makeshift hat on.

“Can I come in, or are you two busy?” Maera asked, and I jumped. She was on the other side of a portal, a tray in her hand. She peered in the room as though searching for Eirik. I moved so she couldn’t see him. He looked ridiculous wearing my undershirt on his head.

I closed the gap between us. “Come inside.”

She entered and, this time, I couldn’t stop her from seeing Eirik. If she thought the hat looked funny, she didn’t bat an eyelid. I took the tray from her and placed it on the coffee table.

“I wasn’t sure if I should leave him alone and come to the kitchen for food. I’m supposed to keep an eye on him until he wakes up.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, but the goddess insisted. Where’s Trudy?”

“She’s eating with the family.” Disappointment must have shown on my face because she added, “The goddess thinks the two of you spending so much time together is not a good thing. Trudy is being a bad influence on you, so she is confined to our quarters when she is not attending to the goddess’ needs, and you also must stay here at all times. If you need anything, ask the guards to get it.”

“That’s not fair.”

“I know. Trudy feels the same way. I’m sure after a few days, the goddess will forget why she is punishing the two of you and you can go back to causing more mischief.”

EIRIK

Someone was drilling a hole through my head. I reached back to stop them and my hand encountered a cloth. No, a hat, I decided when I pulled it off and a bloody facecloth landed on my chest. I sat up and the room started to spin. Everything that had happened came rushing back. The shift. Falling. Eating like an animal. I had gotten up to find Celestia when…

I had no memory of what happened afterward.

I touched the swollen lump and winced. The healing runes should have automatically kicked in. After the shift and the repair job they had to do on my body, I must have exhausted their effect. I needed to etch fresh healing runes, which meant finding my blades. The crystals imbedded on the wall were dim, but as soon as I stood, their intensity increased.

I picked up the hat I had dropped and studied it. No, it couldn’t be. Yes, it was definitely the cute black undershirt Celestia had hung on the partition in the dungeon. She’d used it to hold the bloody cloth in place.

Where was she? She wasn’t on the bed. If my mother had her sleeping in the dungeon, she was going to deal with one pissed-off dragon. My pounding head forgotten, I turned full circle and searched the room.

A lump on the sofa had me cutting across the carpeted floor. My anger and worry disappeared when I realized it was Celestia. She looked so sweet and innocent, yet the need to reach down and kiss her stole over me again. I pushed aside the feeling.

She was wearing a bathrobe like she’d taken a shower. I hoped she hadn’t meant to sleep there with only the robe as a cover. Even though the sofa was big enough for her, she should have been on the more comfortable bed. I reached down to lift her up and a sketchbook fell on the floor.

I picked it up and flipped through the pictures. The older man must be her father, and the guy with the ball her cousin. There were a few sketches of a pretty girl around her age with curly, blond hair and… I paused on the next page. The sketches were of me. Was that how she saw me? I flipped page after page. There were a lot of pictures of me. Most were just my face and chest. Did I do that with my eyebrow? I looked like a moron. There were a few drawings of Trudy and the Idun-Grimnirs. My father. Funny, she hadn’t tried to draw my mother.

I put the book on the table and carefully lifted her into my arms.

“Eirik?” she mumbled, burrowing under my chin.

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

“Hmm, okay.” She shifted and her face settled on my neck. Her lush lips were on my skin and every time she exhaled, the moist heat of her breath sent heat pulsing through me. When it came to Celestia, my feelings were all over the place. One minute, I wanted to protect her, the next kiss her. I needed to decide my next move because protecting her also meant protecting her from me.

I tugged the covers aside and gently laid her down. The robe had become undone, revealing my Kayville High Gators T-shirt and my boxers. She’d borrowed my things. I was strongly leaning toward kissing her. I carefully removed the robe, then covered her with the blanket.

Gently, I pushed hair away from her face. She was breathing deeply, her lips relaxed and slightly parted. They were so inviting, and the urge to taste them grew until it was all I could think about. Protect her or claim her? I stroked her cheek, and when she moaned and rubbed her cheek against my knuckles as though seeking a closer contact, I was a goner. I lowered my head.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and I froze.

“For what?”

“Being nice.”

Nice? I didn’t want to be nice. I wanted to be the guy she’d sketched. Badass. That guy who took whatever he wanted and didn’t care about consequences. That guy wouldn’t care that she was trapped in his realm because of him.

Chuckling, I changed my trajectory and planted a kiss on her temple. She protested and shifted. Now, she was facing up as though offering me her lips. Of course, she couldn’t be doing that. That was wishful thinking on my part. Before I could give in to temptation, I backed up and got off the bed.

I needed a shower. A cold one.

The first thing I saw was the rack with towels and Celestia’s silky and lacey underwear. Fate was screwing with me. I closed the door, ignored the bath, and found the shower.

I couldn’t remember the last time I wore a bandage to cover a wound on any part of my body. I’d always healed fast as a child. That should have been the first warning that I was different. I wondered if Raine remembered how I used to brag about it, until my father, my
Immortal guardian
, had told me that superheroes didn’t show off. Superheroes kept their identities and their powers a secret from everyone. Even from those they loved, he’d added. A parent telling a child to keep a secret from his best friend should have been the second warning.

Most kids played pretend superhero. I’d believed it. In fact, I went through elementary school believing I was an alien from another planet like
Superman
.

Of course, my ability to heal had waned with time. I used to get bruises like everyone else and fell sick once every three months like clockwork. High fevers. Body aches. Chills. It never lasted twenty-four hours. I wasn’t sure what that was about.

Once the Sevilles had suppressed my dragon, they must have stopped etching runes on me because I couldn’t remember them doing it again. On the other hand, they’d knock me out before using an artavus and could have continued doing it into my adulthood without my knowledge.

So much of my childhood now made sense. My guardians’ regular trips and claims that they always used the local airport shuttle instead of driving their car. Ten-to-one, the shuttle company had never heard of them. The way I’d find them at home whenever I fell ill. I always loved going to Raine’s house, but when I’d get sick, Raine’s mother would fuss over me, yet she’d never give me meds. She’d known the cause of the fevers. Whenever I had them, my parents would be home by nightfall whether they’d left that day or days earlier. I’d assumed they were devoted and had forgiven their indifference when I wasn’t sick. I bet they’d come home to etch runes on me and suppress my dragon.

I changed into pajamas and opened a portal to the dungeon. The room was just as messy as I’d left it. I found the gym bag with my things, the pouch of artavo, and my mace. The camera hadn’t survived the mayhem, but I got the disk. I hadn’t used it in weeks, but the pictures I’d taken of Celestia were keepers. Maybe Rhys would bring me another camera. I collected her backpack and coat, then headed back to my bedroom.

Celestia was still out. For about a second, I debated whether to sleep on top of the blanket, then dove under with her. The bed was big enough for both of us with room to spare.

The crystals dimmed and left me staring into space, going over everything that had happened since I arrived in Hel. I’d resisted moving to this bedroom and my parents’ suites, but now that Celestia was here, it seemed right. Sleep eluded me for a while, until she turned and reached for me, her hand landing on my chest. I scooted closer, slipped a hand under her pillow, and nudged her until she was tucked under my chin. Grinning, I drifted off to sleep.

~*~

I woke up first. Celestia was sprawled over me like I was her favorite body pillow—one leg across my hip, her arm flung across my chest, and her face in my neck. Her lips were slightly open and her sweet breath caressed my skin. I grinned. I should wake up like this every morning. I glanced at her watch. 9:20. I needed a new watch. The one I’d worn yesterday hadn’t survived my transformation.

It took some maneuvering, but I managed to ease my body from under Celestia’s and talked briefly with the guard outside my door about breakfast. If he thought it was strange to send him instead of Celestia, who was supposed to be my personal servant, he didn’t show it. She was going home today if things went according to plan. I was sneaking her through the portal the Grimnirs used to bring in souls. All she had to do was possess me.

Litr arrived with breakfast for two on a cart—pastries, eggs, bacon strips the length of belts, and fresh fruit. The bottom shelf had a large teapot, a pitcher of apple juice, cups, and crystal tumblers.

“Bacon for giants?” I asked, lifting a strip.

“They slaughtered a pig this morning, and Maera sliced them instead of the usual guy. She makes them big for her family and the guards and forgets that some of us have smaller hands. Not that I’m complaining. Her bacon is the best, even if it gets caught in my beard.”

I took the cart and pushed it closer to the bed. “Have you thought of just wrapping it around your hand like this?”

Litre chuckled. “That’s exactly what we do. Do you want me to pour the tea and wake her up?” he whispered, his eyes going to Celestia who was still out.

“No, let her sleep. This is good, thank you. Are you in charge of both my parent’s quarters and mine?”

“Yes. I replaced Maera when she took over running the rest of the hall from, uh…”

“From who?”

He looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “Your grandmother.” He bowed. “I will come back for the trays.”

My mother had said my grandmother was gone. Did she die or did she just leave? From the way my mother had reacted, she and her mother must have had a falling out. I ate and let Celestia sleep a little longer. Tired of waiting, I broke a piece of bacon and touched her nose with it. She wrinkled her nose, inhaling. I laughed.

She opened one eye, then the other, and frowned.

“About time. I already finished my breakfast and was about to start on yours.” Her eyes filled with longing when they landed on the bacon. “Want a piece?”

She nodded.

“Open.”

She shot me a censuring look. “I’m not letting you feed me. How did I end up here?” she asked, looking around.

“I carried you. You were shivering on the couch, so I brought you here. You thanked me and said I was the nicest guy in the world, which is a serious ego-buster. Nice is boring. Nice is what you call the guy at Starbucks who gives you extra cream.” I was going for a laugh, but instead, she looked at the rumpled beddings and pink crept on her face. “What is it?”

“Where did you sleep?”

“Right here.” I patted the area next to her, then got off the bed before adding, “But that’s not my fault. I left a huge space between us, but you didn’t like it, so you scooted closer and put an arm around me. I had no choice but to hold you.”

She closed her eyes. “Sorry I asked.”

“I’m not done. When I woke up this morning, you must have decided I was your personal body pillow, too.” She was covering her face when I finished. “I didn’t mind.”

“Can you
not
talk about this? Please?”

“About you hogging the bed or me loving being your body pillow?” I carried the tray back to the bed. “Sit up and eat. We have things to do.”

Just as I suspected, the topic change did the trick. She stopped covering her face, until she sat up and realized her robe was gone.

“Where’s my robe?” she asked in a squeaky voice, frantically looking around.

“Behind you.” I watched her shrug the robe up and belt it, then placed the tray across her lap. “Tea or apple juice?”

“Apple juice. Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?”

“And miss watching you sleep?” I placed the tumbler of juice next to her plate, then lay on my stomach across the bed, propped my chin on the heel of my palm, and gave her a slow smile. From the glare she threw my way, I’d be charbroiled if she could shoot fire through her eyes. “I think you were dreaming about me because you sighed my name a couple of times.”

She paused in the process of eating a scoop of eggs and I was sure they’d land on my head instead of her mouth, but she must have decided against it. The fork went back to the plate and she leveled me with a stern look. “Go. Away.”

“Why?”

“I’m serious. Either behave or go away.”

“So I shouldn’t tell you the truth? You are big on honesty, but I can lie with the best of them if that’s what you want. I could say I don’t like having you in my arms when I sleep or—”

She groaned. “Eirik. I’m not a morning person and all this”—she waved to indicate my face—“is too much for me this early. I want to eat in peace.”

“But I like talking to you.” I stole one of her scones and pinched off a piece. “Besides, I have good news.”

She studied me intently as though trying to see whether I was lying. Then she nodded. “Okay. What?”

“Eat first.” She opened her mouth to argue and I shook my head. “Food first, Dimples, or you’ll have to follow me around for the rest of the day, begging me to tell you—and I won’t.”

“You are such a jerk.” She picked up the fork and sampled the eggs. “These are good.”

“Maera had a pig slaughtered this morning just so you could have bacon.”

“If you’re trying to make me feel bad for the pig, think again. I love bacon. Some people like theirs crispy. I love it just like this. Semi-crisp with fatty parts.” She picked up one and lifted it. “Wow, this is huge.”

“Wrap it around your hand.”

She did, laughing. I liked that she could be in the moment. She ate while I watched her. That didn’t seem to bother her. In fact, she was doing a good job of pretending I wasn’t there, and I didn’t like it.