Demons (Eirik Book 1) (30 page)

Okay, so he was overprotective of Raine and completely blind when it came to her. “So the Norns just go around messing with people’s heads and destinies? Even the gods?” Even his mother had said that she and Baldur had suffered at their hands.

“Add kidnapping to their list of crimes.” A brief expression I couldn’t explain crossed Eirik’s face.

“Who did they kidnap?”

The look on his face returned and this time, I recognized it. It was the same gleam I’d seen on his mother’s face. Calculating. Mean. He was plotting mayhem.

“Eirik, who did they kidnap?”

He glanced at me and smirked. “Me, actually.”

“Oh. Is that why you grew up on Earth?”

He nodded. “But they’ll get what’s coming to them.”

“That sounds like you are plotting revenge.”

He just smiled. “I’ll find a way to pay them in kind.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

He shrugged. He never seemed scared of anything. It was like he had a death wish. Challenging his mother. Fighting psycho souls in her army. And now the Norns?

“You could always find a way to punish them without putting yourself in harms’ way.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

He was definitely more his mother’s son than his father’s. “Self-preservation. After all, they are in charge of destinies.” We finally reached the dungeons. I’d forgotten just how long those stairs were. “What do they fear the most?”

“Raine.” Eirik chuckled. “But I’d never use her or put her in harm’s way. They’ve hurt her enough.”

That was one Witch I’d actually go out of my way to meet. “There must be something else they’re scared of.”

Silence followed, and the gleam returned in his eyes. I tried not to be concerned, but I couldn’t help it.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He pressed a kiss on my temple. I had a feeling he just had an epiphany. Somehow I knew it would involve reckless behavior and mayhem. He glanced over his shoulder at the guards. “We need torches.”

~*~

EIRIK

I waited until the guards left the room and locked the door. Celestia looked around with a frown on her face.

“This was a mess and now look at it.” She glanced at me. “What happened?”

“They were in my way, so good riddance.” No fancy rugs or bed. I went to the slab. The mattress, the blanket, and the pillow were still there. The room meant something to me, although I couldn’t articulate what it was. I just knew I liked it without my mother’s trappings. “It’s exactly how I want to remember it.”

“The way it was when we met here,” she said, speaking so softly I almost didn’t hear her.

She nailed it. “Yes, and it will always be our room.”

Her eyes grew luminous, then she smiled. “Okay, let’s start.”

I patted the mattress. The whole exercise was unnecessary, but if it helped her get home, I would do my part. If only I could tell her about my dragon. It was one of those confessions that required perfect timing. What if she was repulsed?

“Can you repeat it?”

I stared at her. “Repeat what?”

She smacked me on the chest. “Focus, mister, or I’ll be stuck here forever and you wouldn’t want that. I’d make your life a living hell. Repeat after me.
Sparks and heat of the flaming balls, spread through space and scorch the walls!
”

I repeated her words.

She sighed. “Louder?”

I tried again. Nothing happened. “Maybe I have zero fire magic in me.”

“You’re not putting any effort into it. Make sure you’re not thinking of anything else. Concentrate on the flame. Visualize it growing hotter, spreading, and becoming big.”

She was getting frustrated and part of me felt bad for putting her through this. “I feel ridiculous,” I said. “When I slept here, I talked to myself to stop from going insane.”

She hopped down from the rock. “You’re procrastinating. I know what you went through here, Eirik. I saw it. Just repeat the spell. It’s not going to be the end of the world if it doesn’t work. I have others we can try.” She shook the piece of paper she’d ripped from her sketchbook.

“Okay. But FYI, you are a slave driver.” She glared, so I added, “An adorable slave driver?” Her hand balled and I knew she’d use a spell on me again. “
Sparks and heat of the flaming balls, spread through space and scorch the walls.
”

Nothing happened.

“No, no, no,” she said, pacing. “You have to want this, Eirik. Believe that it will happen. Point if necessary. Watch me.” She spread her hand toward the flame behind her. “
Sparks and heat from the flaming balls, spread through space and scorch the walls!
”

For a second, nothing happened. Then flames raced along the walls from the single torch, until there was a line of fire around the room. Celestia said something, but it was lost when she screamed and covered her head as the flames leaped and converged on her.

I engaged all my runes at a run, snatched her up, and twisted my body so my shoulder connected with the door as I barreled through it. Caught by surprise, the two guards jumped back.

“Put out the fire,” I yelled at them and created a portal, my first since I arrived in Hel. I was inside my bedroom in seconds and set her on the bed. Trying not to panic, my eyes searched her face. There were no burns, yet her eyes welled with tears.

“Don’t cry. Please. Where does it hurt?”

“I’m such an idiot,” she mumbled and blinked rapidly until the tears receded.

“No, I’m the idiot.” Her arms were okay. “I shouldn’t have agreed to do the stupid spells. I don’t need help with fire. I can…” I couldn’t tell her about my dragon. “I don’t need to learn the spell.”

“Then how am I supposed to help you and go home? And please, don’t beat yourself over this. You warned me about the magic here, but I forgot. Ouch.” She looked at the side of her arm and I was there, searching for her injuries. A patch of her sweater was singed.

“Take off your sweater.”

Her cheeks grew pink, but she pulled off her sweater and held it across her chest. She only had a bra. She’d already used her undershirt on my head wound. My hand shook as I turned her arm to see the extent of the burns. The red patches spread from her elbow to her shoulder.

I glanced over my shoulder at the guards. “Get my mother.”

“No,” Celestia said. “Maera or Trudy.”

The guards waited to see what I’d say. “You heard her. Get Maera.”

They scurried out of the room and came back to watch from the doorway. Their silence was irritating. I knew they reported everything to my father. Maera arrived with Trudy carrying a basket.

“Now what have you kids been up to?” Maera asked.

“Working on fire spells,” Celestia said.

“Oh, honey. Spells backfire all the time around here. You don’t want to try them. Stand back,
dýrr
,” she ordered, nudging me out of the way. She only reached to my waist, but was bossy. I’d seen how she ran her kitchen. “Make room for Trudy. We’ll have her wrapped up in no time.”

“Don’t you have a magical cream or something to put on her arm?” I asked.

“Of course, I do, but she’s not of our world and some magic is not meant for Mortals.”

“Why not?” I couldn’t look at Celestia’s skin without flinching, so I moved to where I could see her face. It was worse. She bit her lower lip and tried to be brave, but her face showed it hurt. “She’s in pain. Can’t you give her something to make it go away?”

Maera sighed. “You have the means to ease her pain. You chose not to use it and called me, so let me do my job. Does she have a top to wear? Trudy, get her something from your room. Rip one sleeve off.”

“No, she can borrow one of my tank tops.” I found a sleeveless shirt in my closet and took it to Maera. As soon as she helped Celestia put it on, she started applying a green paste on her arm.

Celestia whimpered and I couldn’t take it anymore. Etching more healing runes on her went against everything I believed in. The few I’d used on her after her accident with the mace would wane with time. Etching more could kick up her auto-heal a notch and start her on the journey to immortality, cause her to see souls when she went back home, and make her crazy like Cora. I couldn’t do that to her, yet watching her hurting was unbearable.

Maybe it wouldn’t affect her body back at home. I went to my closet and came back with my artavus. Celestia’s eyes found mine and lingered. Hopefully, she wouldn’t see how conflicted I was.

I sat on the bed. “I can make it heal now.”

“I don’t want to be Immortal,” she said. “I’m okay. I can take it.”

“I can’t. Every time you flinch, I feel… I feel your pain.”

Her chin trembled. “Could I have something to drink? Apple juice or water?”

I didn’t want to leave. She was just sending me so I could be out of the way. “Creed!” I called.

“No, you, Eirik. I want
you
to get it,” Celestia insisted.

“No.”

“Eirik, I’m the one burned, yet every time you flinch I feel worse. Why is that? Please.” She looked at her arm. “It’s not hurting anymore.” She gave me a brief smile. “It’s not. Whatever is in the salve has a cooling effect. How about that apple juice, huh? And get yourself some mead.”

I didn’t believe her, but if she wanted apple juice, I was getting her some. I returned the artavus to the closet and went to the kitchen, via a portal, and came back with a pitcher of apple juice. I was pissed I had to leave the room to create one.

“Don’t cover it or put water on it. I’ll wash off the salve and replace it tomorrow,” Maera said when I returned.

“Thank you, Maera,” Celestia said, and I echoed her.

“No more spells, you two,” Maera said, pointing at us. “Behave. I expect something like that from
her
”—she pointed at Trudy, who rolled her eyes—“not you two. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” we said in unison, and they left.

As soon as it was just the two of us, Celestia looked at me and made a face. “Now what?”

“Now, I find the cave and the identity of the giantess. You described it, but I think you need to tell me what you see when you stand at the entrance.”

She started to get up, but I was there before she moved. “Don’t move. Anything you need, I’ll get it.” I grinned. “You took care of me before. It’s my turn to take care of you. What do you need?”

“The sketchbook and pencil.”

EIRIK

Celestia turned out to be a better patient than I was. She was worried about going home, but didn’t show it. She was in pain too, but hung in there like a trooper. We had dinner and I etched sleeping runes on her after she thoroughly grilled me about side effects.

“Have you ever etched forgetful runes on anyone?” she asked.

I was sure I gave myself away. I had etched them on her after she’d seen the dragon marks on my skin. “No, but I’m really good with runes period. My grandmother said I was a natural.”

“Frigg?”

“Yep.”

“Ever met your grandma on your mother’s side?”

“Nope. I think she’s dead. Mom doesn’t talk about her.” Except when she’d explained the dragon strain.

She was out like a light while I spent half the night worrying about hurting her arm. In the end, I had rested her arm across my chest and covered her. I woke up early, eased from under her, and headed to the weapons room, my artavus in place.

I etched new healing runes first, then endurance and strength runes before stripping. I stepped out of the building naked. The cold hit me hard, shriveling parts of me I never thought could shrivel. Next time, I was bringing a damn robe. If my mother were watching…

I didn’t want to imagine.

The change was easier this time. Taking off was still a bitch. I looped around the castle and swooped closer to Garm and Modgie at the gate. The hound went crazy. I raced him, then took off to check the mountains to the east, searching for Celestia’s cave. The mist was higher, so I went into the mist. My eyesight wasn’t bad and my scales offered insulation, but it was still cold.

I must have been out for hours when hunger brought me back home. I grabbed my things and walked back, stopping by the kitchen, but Maera was waiting.

“Food is on its way to your parents. Our young Witch is still asleep.”

“Thanks, Maera.” My parents were already up.

“How was the flight?”

“Invigorating.” I ate enough to feed ten people, then went back to my room. The guards were there where I’d left them earlier. “Don’t you guys ever sleep, Creed?”

“The shift changed last night.”

I showered, changed, and crawled in bed without disturbing Celestia. When I woke up, she was eating breakfast while Maera smeared more goop on her arm. This one was light green. I searched her face, and she gave me a toothy grin.

“Hey, sleepy head. Did I keep you up?” she asked.

Of course, she just assumed I’d slept late. I joined them. “I was scared of rolling on top of you and making your arm worse.”

Maera snorted. “We have a spare bedroom—”

“No,” Celestia and I said at the same time.

Maera chuckled. “No need to bite my head off. I was just offering. And you do know there’s a spare bedroom here, but that’s another story.” She glanced at me and something on my face must have shown that I knew. “The hallway next to yours, but I wouldn’t go in there without your mother’s permission.”

My mother kept my sister’s bedroom? That was fucked up, yet understandable. Damn Norns. My thoughts must have shown on my face because Celestia studied me with concern. I was supposed to be worrying about her, not the other way around. “How’s your arm?”

“Better,” Maera answered, but my eyes stayed locked with Celestia’s, searching for any sign that she was in pain. “Tell him,
d
ý
rr
, or he’ll keep asking. Men are weird like that.”

“I’m fine, Eirik. See? Less red.”

The part not covered with the gel seemed less red, but that didn’t mean jack. “I still have the artavus if you change your mind.”

I shook my head. Maera finished and left after promising to apply more salve in the evening.

“So what is it about the extra bedroom that gave you that look?”

“What look?” I hedged, taking a biscuit from her plate. I shoved it in my mouth. No one talked with a full mouth. Unfortunately, Celestia had the patience of a saint. “You want to hang out in Grimnirs Hall and play pool?” I asked her.

“No, I want to know about the extra bedroom.”

I sat back and crossed my arms. I didn’t want to talk about my sister. The more I got to know my mother, the more I realized she wasn’t a bad person. She’d gone through so much. Everything from her father—Loki—being imprisoned by Odin, her family splitting, then losing my sister and me.

“Tell me about your mother,” I said. “You never talk about her.”

She studied me and I thought she’d refused. Then she gave me a brief smile. “She left us when I was seven and I haven’t seen her since. She wasn’t exactly pleasant to be around, so I was happy when she left.” She made a face. “Well, sad and happy.”

She had my interest. “Why sad and happy?”

“She didn’t love me enough to accept me the way I am,” Celestia said, speaking slowly. “That was sad. She didn’t care who she hurt by leaving. Dad. Aunt Genevieve. Grams. That was sad, too. But I was happy because Grams moved in with us. The rest of my life was a typical American Witch’s life. I went through the stages when I didn’t understand magic and stressed about it, then got scared that someone would find out, and finally, when I accepted who I was.”

“And your boyfriend? Does he accept it?” I had no idea why I asked that. I had enough reasons to dislike the faceless bastard.

Celestia stared at me in confusion. Then her cheeks grew pink. I shouldn’t have brought him up.

“Forget him. Hayden and her mother. How much do you trust them?”

She grinned. “Hayden is my best friend. We do everything together. Like Grams and I before she died, she and her mother are not part of a coven.”

“So with your grandmother gone, you only have Hayden’s mother to guide you?”

“Tammy is cool. I work at their shop after school and on the weekends, then study my spells. She helps. They both do.”

The two Immortals had better not be using her, or I would hunt them down. “So, do you want to hang out at Grimnirs Hall while I hit the gym?”

“No, I’ll pretend to watch you train after you tell me about the spare bedroom.”

“It’s my sister’s. I didn’t know about her until I got here. I learned about her from my father. My mother doesn’t talk about her.”

“Oh.”

I jumped up. “Gotta change. I’m meeting Rhys.” I headed to the closet. I shouldn’t have brought up my sister. It made me want to punch something.

“Eirik?”

I glanced at her.

“It gets better.”

I frowned. “What?”

“The loss. You might not have known her, but it’s okay to feel the loss. The pain of losing someone you never knew existed is just as bad as losing someone you knew, but it gets better.”

Except my sister was still alive. And I had to get my act together and find her. “Thanks.”

“Want a hug?”

I closed the gap between us, lifted her injured arm so it rested on my shoulder, then hugged her. I closed my eyes and inhaled her scent. My dragon stirred. He approved. I rubbed my cheek against her silky hair.

“Do you like dragons, Celestia?”

She shuddered and leaned back. “Are you kidding? Dragons, alligators, and anything scaly give me nightmares. Please, don’t tell me you want me to meet your mother’s dragon, because I will run in the opposite direction.” She wiggled out of my arms, her pupils dilated with fear. “Do you?”

I shook my head. “No-oo. Nothing like that at all.”

~*~

CELESTIA

I spent the next several hours above the gym while Eirik and the big guy, Jeff, practiced below. Rhys was missing. He was probably off reaping. I tried to sketch, but I was not in the mood. So instead, I studied the Grimnirs and wondered about their stories and how old they really were. They appeared to range in age from twenties to old—graying hair and beards. But all of them were in great shape.

Sounds came from behind me. Then Trudy plopped on the seat to my left. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. I’d go crazy if I lived here. There’s nothing to do. I mean, I know you work for the goddess, paint, and watch memories. All the Grimnirs do is reap and work out. The staff cooks twenty-four seven and the household staff cleans nonstop because of the Grimnirs traipsing in and out with their souls. The guards, at least, change shifts and go home to their families in the villages.”

“Most reapers marry other reapers or Mortals and have homes on Earth. Some even have kids. Reaping is only a job. It just comes with some serious perks.”

Like staying young forever. “Do they tell their Mortal wives the truth? Turn them into Immortals?”

Trudy shrugged. “I don’t know. You have to ask them. So what’s your grandmother’s full name and birthday?”

I gave her the information automatically, remembering the last birthday party we’d thrown for Grams. She hadn’t seemed sick. One moment laughing and the next, gone. My eyes smarted. She’d turn in her grave if she knew the mess I’d made of things. I was stuck in Hel with no way of getting home. I couldn’t chance astral projecting again in case I ended up in that cave. Possessing Eirik might be my only option. I sighed. Grams was going to claw her way from an Eternal Hall to smother me to death.

“Come with me.” Trudy grabbed my arm.

“Where are we going?”

“I have an idea.” She opened a portal to one of the Eternal Halls, pulled me down next to her, and glanced at the guards. “Go. Move back. This is private.”

The guards weren’t too thrilled, but they moved back into the tunnel. She pulled something from under her dress. It was an artavus. She etched runes in the air just like the goddess had done. It dissipated before reaching the door. She tried again and got it right. The Veil shimmered and the sweet aroma of freshly baked bread reached me. When the scene solidified, I was looking at a familiar kitchen.

“I’ll leave,” Trudy whispered, but I wasn’t sure whether I responded or not. I was busy staring at Grams. Tears rushed to my eyes.

She wore her favorite apron, navy-blue with large pockets at the hip and a small one across her bosom. I had decorated it with fabric markers when I was seven. By the time she died, the smiley faces of the three of us—Dad, Grams, and me—had faded. But to see her twinkling green eyes and brown hair with very little gray brought back memories.

“Now, where is my little gem,” Grams mumbled, hurrying along the hallway. “Celestia? Sweetheart?” Giggles came from the left hallway.
Oh heavens, she’s in there alone. Please, let her be okay. I can’t lose her, too.
Her mouth didn’t open, yet I heard her.

Worry replaced concern as she ran along the hallway, yet she carefully pushed open the door as though afraid that sudden movements might startle me. She peered in and a small, “Ooh,” escaped her.

The girl with messy brown hair and dimples looked nothing like me, yet I knew it was I at age eight. A year after Mom left. I had white powder on my face like a sack of flower had exploded on it. I didn’t look up from the open family grimoire.

Poor child. So much darkness coming her way. I must prepare her. She tries so hard so I won’t leave too. If only she knew I’d never do that.
Once again, Gram’s mouth didn’t open, yet I heard her thoughts.

“Look, Grams. I started without you,” I said, grinding something in a crucible. I glanced at the grimoire. “Add a pinch of mandrake root powder.” I dipped my fingers inside a sac and scooped the powder.

“Whoa, slow down, sweetheart.” Grams hurried to my side. “What are you making?”

“A drink for Daddy. He has a stomachache again.”

Hangover. The poor man is drinking himself to death with worry
. “That’s too much, Celestia. This is a pinch.” She demonstrated and waited patiently as I copied her. “Now you throw it in there and if you hear popping and see white smoke, then you know it’s right. If you don’t?”

I sighed. “I start all over again. I’ve already done it three times.”

“And we’ll do it again and again…”

“Until we get it right,” I finished. I threw the powder in and
pop-pop
sounds like firecrackers filled the air. White smoke rose.

“I did it, Grams. I did it.”

“I think you just found your calling, my little Witch.” She hugged me.
Poor thing. So much darkness surrounding her. So much death.

I giggled. “You said that when I saw Mr. Laroche fall down the ladder and we went to his house to stop him from falling.”

“That’s because you have many callings. Let’s add this to your daddy’s tea and make him feel better.”

The scene faded and another took its place. In all of them, Grams thoughts drifted to my darkness and death following me. Even when I’d helped people, she would have the same thoughts. Before her death, they’d consumed her. She never indicated she’d had the same visions as Mom or that she’d worried about not preparing me.

I was crying hard by the time the memories ended. I wasn’t even sure why I was crying. Was it seeing Grams again and missing her so much it hurt? For being trapped in Hel with no way of going home? For knowing death and mayhem would follow me?