Mist Revealed (19 page)

Another piping sound carried on the breeze. They took flight and circled, waiting for him. He called a gust of wind and allowed his solid form to break apart. One with the mist, he absorbed its knowledge. He picked out the smells entwined in the air and focused on one. Cat’s exotic fragrance led away from the village, deeper inland. He followed it.

He lost her trail twice. She was enclosed in the plane with the
eldjötnar
, so his only clue to her destination was the short exposure to the environment after they got off. He took some comfort in knowing they’d landed close. Otherwise he wouldn’t have a trail to follow.

A small cabin came into view. No helicopter, but he detected the trace of both the demon and Cat. He willed his solid form to take shape. The dispersed pieces of his body collected slowly. The eagles helped. They flew in an ever tightening circle, gathering the wayward particles. The wind fought his efforts as it always did. Although the force did his bidding, nature favored the chaotic dispersion of his body. It wanted to keep the pieces that ultimately belonged to the mist.

He held Cat’s image close and drew strength from the love he held for her. It added to the urgency riding him. He had to save her before it was too late.

The last of his cells merged. He landed on the ground, feet first, and ran toward the home.

He flung the door open, and an empty house greeted him. He inhaled, hoping to catch Cat’s scent or the demon’s on the air, but only a faint trace of blood reached him. He followed it, his heart in his throat, to another set of stairs leading down. Cat’s fruity, exotic fragrance wafted to him from below, along with the first hint of death. It was the same pungent odor that had first woken him from the death-sleep.

No, please no.

A wave of his hand, and he erected a wall of mist around the home so the
eldjötnar
couldn’t enter. He took the stairs three at a time. A single bulb cast a circle of light in the dark room. Cat’s body lay under it. Red welts marked the spot on her neck the diseased
eldjötnar
had fed from.

She writhed in pain.

He was too late.

Rune stared at the woman he loved. He had promised to protect her. His very existence deemed him a Warden, a guardian of the earth’s treasures. Cat was the greatest of all, not just to the world but to him.

A growl crawled up his throat.

He’d failed her.

Mist swept into the room. Rain fell. His element wept for him and Cat. Tender wisps of fog danced over him, over her. He waved his hand, scattering them. He would not grieve. She still breathed. He would save her or follow her to the grave.

He ran to her side, then dropped to his knees. Her chest rose and fell with her harsh breaths. Lines pinched the pale skin by her eyes. Her nostrils flared, but it was the garbled groan that hurt him most.

She couldn’t scream.

He tugged the wet silk tie from her mouth and tossed it behind him.

“Cat. Wake up, Cat.”

No response.

He scooped her into his arms, and her head lolled to the side, revealing the red sore on her throat. The sight made his throat squeeze. He ignored the crippling emotion behind the reaction and grasped her chin, exposing her unmarred vein.

“I’m sorry. I said I’d wait until we were both ready. The choice was taken out of our hands.” He kissed the spot below her ear. “I love you, Cat. I won’t lose you to death.”
Even if I have to follow you there.

He licked the spot he’d fantasized about feeding from and thought about how he would’ve made the moment special. All those images had involved having Cat open and naked on his bed, not limp in his arms with dirt and cobwebs around them.

“I’ll make this up to you. Promise.”

He placed a chaste kiss to her skin, then bit. Hot blood rushed over his tongue. Power twined with her essence. It seeped into his cells, infusing him with strength. A surge of pride consumed him. He’d been the one to stir her abilities and ignite the well of raw energy she carried.

Eyes closed, he drank from her and did his best to ignore the sour taste of death working its way through her blood.

The beat of her heart slowed with each draught on her vein. He kept swallowing and listened. The feeding of the
eldjötnar
had quickened the process of mating. Normally, it would’ve taken two or three feedings to drain her of blood so he could replace it with his. The demon had gorged himself on Cat’s essence.

Rune waited until her heartbeat stuttered before letting his fangs slip free. He licked the spot, healing the wound and dragged his sharp teeth across his wrist. Quickly, he tipped her head back and pried her mouth open. He shoved his wrist against her lips. Blood dribbled over her chin.

He’d never witnessed a mating. They were done in private, usually in an intimate setting, but he’d heard tales of the act. Getting a female to drink was often the scariest part. There’d been cases where they hadn’t. Those deaths had broken their males. They’d died crazed, lashing out at everyone before succumbing to starvation.

“Don’t do that to me.”

He massaged her neck. The sluggish pulse under his hands reassured him. Her unresponsiveness didn’t.

The tea had been tampered with. It was the only explanation.

He kissed her cheeks, eyes, nose, any part of her angelic face her could reach.

“Stay with me. Eternity. That’s what we’ll have. I’ll love you every second of it.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Don’t leave me. Please, Cat. Don’t die.”

The lips wrapped around his wrist grew cold. The time between the weak beats of her heart lengthened. His eyesight blurred. He didn’t want to lose her. They’d barely had any time together. He craned her head farther and massaged her neck. He’d force his blood into her. Anything, he refused to give her up.

She groaned, the soft sound garbled with his flesh in her mouth, but she parted her lips more, and the tip of her tongue met his skin. Tingles skipped down his spine with the simple touch. She lapped at his torn flesh a moment more before she latched on, sucking weakly.

Each tug of her mouth came quicker, harder than the last. Fire raced through his blood. The pull on his vein connected to his cock. It lengthened. He wanted to bury his rigid dick into her. That was how he’d envisioned their mating, tangled in passion and love.

He tugged her more firmly over his growing erection. Her arm flopped to the side. She was still too weak, but not for much longer. They’d repeat the give and take of blood until he replaced every drop of hers. Each feeding would give her more strength. With both his essence extending her life and that of Odin adding his abilities, she would rise powerful. He knew it.

“You’re mine, Cat.”

“No, she’s mine.”

Surtr stood at the top of the stairs. Fire danced around him.

Somehow he’d gotten through the veil Rune had cast over the home. It would’ve taken a tremendous amount of power to crack it and slip through without alerting him. Unfortunately, he feared he knew where it had come from—his mate.

Rune cursed. He tugged his hand from Cat’s mouth and gently laid her down. Crouched in front of her vulnerable body, he glared at his enemy. “Sorry, demon, you’re too late. She chose me as her protector and her weapon. Her gift is mine.”

He felt the truth in his words. He hadn’t known what the prophecy had meant until he’d fed from Cat. Power, the same in her body, thrummed through his limbs. He didn’t know how to wield it or what it entailed, but he’d figure it out. Of that, he had no doubt.

“Not entirely. I fed on her too. You failed in your role as guardian”—Surtr grinned—“again.”

His heart skipped a beat. He shoved the worry aside. “I’m here now.”

“So I see. And no doubt you will fight me for her. Am I right?” Surtr crooned.

Apparently, the years asleep hadn’t healed Surtr’s mind. Absorbing the terrified, broken soul of his mate had altered him. It had returned his ability to feed on others, but the cost hadn’t been one even the
eldjötnar
had expected. They’d blamed the gods for that too.

“But you won’t last long, will you?” Surtr took a single step down the stairs. “You’ve wasted your blood on a dying female.”

She was. He’d barely returned enough blood to keep her heart beating. She wouldn’t share in his regenerative abilities until he’d completed the mating. Even then, he’d always have to protect her. His blood would halt her body’s aging but not make her immortal, not in the same sense he was.

“She will live.” He reached behind him and rested his fingertips against her leg. A sheet of ice formed under her body. It wrapped around her, forming a crystalline enclosure that would filter the air she needed to live while blocking out the
eldjötnar
’s smoke. The use of his element cost him precious strength. He didn’t care. It was necessary.

He stood and locked his knees to avoid swaying.

Licks of fire raced over the ceiling, igniting the dried wood. The flames ate away at the beams. He called the mist to him and trickled power into it. A thin blanket of fog formed over them.

He willed his ice sword to take shape. It flared in his hand. A white light shone from the clear blade. He’d never seen it before, but he knew it came from his tie to Cat.

The room brightened, and the mist weaving around his ankles glowed. From the fog above him, clouds developed. Lightning zinged, and thunder cracked.

The roof above them groaned.

He had to get out of the basement or the release of their opposing forces would bring the house down on top of them.

Cat’s life couldn’t be risked anymore.

Surtr raised his blade, but no glow infused the demon’s weapon, proving his earlier claim false. He might’ve gained strength from Cat’s blood, but he hadn’t absorbed her power. He couldn’t. It belonged to Rune.

Rune took comfort in the truth and met Surtr’s fiery sword. Their blades met in a hiss of elements. Smoke filled the room, adding to the mist, and a tremor shook the floor underfoot.

Rune spun and swung low. The tip of his sword sliced a wound across the demon’s thighs. Surtr grunted. He pivoted and blocked Rune’s next swipe. Another sizzle carried over the thunder and groaning wood.

Blade outstretched, Rune lunged. The tip sank into the demon’s chest. He staggered backward. Another thrust caught his stomach. The
eldjötnar
cursed. He countered and whacked Rune’s blade to the side.

Rune stumbled. The weakness gripping him threatened to buckle his legs. He ignored it and pivoted, catching the male with his foot instead of his weapon. The demon fell into the stairs. Rune roared and rushed forward.

Surtr scrambled backward, swinging haphazardly, and climbed the stairs to the small landing. Rune called the wind. It rushed from behind him, parting harmlessly around his body, and pushed the demon farther into the main room. Surtr raised his hand, and a ball of glowing embers filled his palm. He tossed it at the couch. The fabric ignited. The wind Rune had conjured unintentionally spread the flames. Within moments, fire filled the room.

Fog spread across the ceiling. It grew darker. Water saturated it until the surface could hold no more. Rain fell from the mist. Hard and pelting, the downpour worked to put out the flames the demon had created.

“Nice display.” Surtr chuckled. He waved his hand. The blaze doubled in size, the rain doing little to put it out.

Rage rose within Rune. He would not fail Cat again.

He retracted his sword. The white glow didn’t fade with the blade’s absorption into his body. It spread up his arm. He didn’t have time to process what that meant. Surtr charged him. They rolled and hit the edge of the door. The frame cracked. Rune grabbed the demon’s shoulders and threw him out the opening.

Surtr landed hard on the rocky ground but hopped to his feet a moment later. Balls of fire formed in his palms. One after another, he hurled them at Rune. Some hit the house, others pummeled him. His hair lit. Rune ignored it. His power was waning. He directed the little he had to battle the raging inferno engulfing the house. The rest of his energy he directed to reinforce Cat’s icy enclosure. Above all, it couldn’t melt.

He dropped to the ground and rolled, putting out the flames engulfing him. A few swats of his hand, and he snuffed the last out.

A tremor shook the ground, and the earth beneath him moved. A hiss sounded. Rune pushed to his hands and knees. He zeroed in on a small crack in the ground. Magma pooled within the space.

Surtr groaned. The power it cost him to call forth his element from the bowels of the earth showed on his face. Lines etched the skin by his eyes and mouth. Tendons strained in his neck, but the molten rock oozed forth despite the strain it cost the demon. He had the energy to spare, thanks to Cat.

Surtr dropped his arms and curled his fingers. The lava slithered toward him. He laughed and held out his hand. It leapt to him as if it was a favored pet. A moment later, a fiery arrow appeared in his palm.

Rune jumped to his feet and ran toward him. He couldn’t allow him to hit the house with the deadly weapon. Surtr lifted his arm and tossed the fire bolt. It caught Rune in the chest. Eyes squeezed shut, he roared with the searing pain that spread from where the living flames penetrated him outward. More laughter surrounded him. Rune pried his eyelids open.

Surtr strode back toward the home. Rune leapt and tackled him. They rolled once more. The edge of cliff came into view. He grabbed Surtr’s shoulders, and the demon shrieked. Hot blood ran down Rune’s right arm, the one still glowing. He yanked it free. Sharp talons tipped his fingers. The sight startled him. He’d never had claws before.

Surtr bucked, catching Rune off guard and knocking him to the side. Another fire bolt formed in the demon’s hand. Rune raised his and used the last of his energy to direct the wind. Surtr fell backward under the force of its push. He tumbled down the cliff and hit the rocks below.

Water rushed in without Rune calling it. It swept over the
eldjötnar
, cutting off his bellowed curse. A wave formed offshore. Two stories high, it raced toward them.

The water was helping. Tied to his element, it had always done his will. Never before had it acted independently. Because of Cat’s added power or evolution, he didn’t know. Didn’t care. It offered strength where his waned.

The wave crashed into the shore. Steam rose. A hiss carried over the still air.

Rune dropped over the side. The wind cushioned his fall, and he landed with a splash. Long strides took him to the demon’s side. Surtr started to rise, but Rune slammed his clawed hand into the male’s chest.

Surtr shrieked. He scratched at Rune’s forearm, writhed and cursed. Rune pushed deeper, cracking ribs until he gripped the demon’s heart. He dug his talons into the pulsing flesh and ripped it from the
eldjötnar
’s body.

He held it up. The shriveled organ turned from red to blue to gray. He tossed it against the rocky overhang. It shattered. Rune looked from the chips of ice to the body below him. It too had turned to ice. Rune balled his fist and punched the shell. Hundreds of fissures formed in the demon’s solid crystalline form. Another punch, and the pieces broke apart. More water rushed forward, absorbing what ice remained. The waves retreated, leaving only rocks.