Perfekt Match (The Ære Saga Book 4) Page 10

  I brought my hand up, pressing lightly against Jason’s chest. “I—”

  Jason stared at me, his hooded eyes communicating his desire in a way words never could. All I had to do was say the word, and he’d be mine for as long as I wanted him to be.

  Or until the Norns took him away. By force.

  In that instant, Jason’s face morphed into my final vision of Rhylark’s—the agonized pain in his eyes; the unspoken recognition on his lips; and the unflinching willingness to put Asgard first so the realm could survive. My hand trembled, and I quickly removed it from Jason’s chest. I couldn’t do this to him—there was only one way this could end, and he shouldn’t have to pay that price. I couldn’t do this to Mia—she’d been nothing but kind to me…and she brought unparalleled happiness to Tyr, who needed stability now more than ever. And I most certainly couldn’t do this to myself. I was barely holding on to my sanity; I couldn’t afford another loss of that magnitude.

  Not when my healing was so fragile.

  Not when my heart was already so torn.

  And not when the future of the realms was on the line. The Norns had taught me that this kind of love was a vulnerability—one I could never afford again.

  “Freya?” Jason’s eyes widened. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. No. I—uh…” Jason’s face blurred in and out of focus. I wouldn’t be the reason our realm fell. I wouldn’t be the reason the worlds went dark. And—I blinked back tears as the memory of the last time Rhylark held me flooded my vision. No. I would not be the reason Jason’s future was taken from him. He deserved more.

  He deserved to live.

  “Freya! What’s wrong? You’re ice cold—”

  But Jason’s voice dropped into silence as my world narrowed to a single point. As I stared into twin orbs of unknowing, too-trusting indigo–blue, my head clouded and my thoughts swam. Strong arms enveloped me as the world turned black.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BRYNN

  “MIA! TYR! WHERE IS everybody? I need help!”

  Jason’s panic blasted through the cabin. My fingers gripped the edges of the kitchen island. Henrik shot me a look that clearly said, what now? Gods, if I knew. We’d only just gotten home from dinner at Elsa’s. We were about to help ourselves to second dessert from the never-ending mountain of Mia’s baking, but apparently, duty called.

  Again.

  “We’re in here.” Henrik pushed himself off his stool. He gave the plate of white chocolate macadamia nut cookies a wistful look. “Any chance this is a low-level crisis and I can take a few of these to go?”

  “There’s always a chance,” I offered.

  “I don’t know what happened to her!” Jason appeared in the kitchen doorway, a limp Freya in his arms. Her body was turned into him so we couldn’t see her face, but her strawberry waves hung limply to Jason’s knees, and she wasn’t moving, save for the torso shifts that synched with his steps.

  “Skit.” I jumped to my feet while Henrik practically blurred to Jason’s side.

  “Take her to the couch and lay her down,” Henrik commanded. “Brynn, get Elsa and Lornara over here. And if Tyr’s not already on his way—”

  “My ears are ringing.” Tyr’s voice carried more amusement than was customary. He and Mia must have had a really good date.

  One we were about to flatline.

  “Move, Jason. Now.” Henrik nudged Jason back into the hallway.

  Two sets of heavy footsteps stormed in tandem toward the living room. I hurried after them, tapping on my com to send a quick message to Elsa, and entering the hall just in time to see date night ruined. Mia and Tyr stood by the front door, twin statues of horror. Mia’s delicate hands covered her mouth while Tyr’s eyes narrowed in anger.

  “Who did this to her?” he growled.

  “Nobody did anything,” Jason protested. He laid Freya gently on the couch, and pulled a throw off its back to wrap around her legs. “One minute we were looking at stars, and the next…”

  Tyr’s focus snapped. “The bear in the forest. Did you actually see it? Or was it…something else?”

  “I, uh…” Jason took a step back as Tyr stormed into the living room. I didn’t blame him. Tyr was part giant—not that Jason knew that—and not only did he stand taller than six-and-a-half feet, but he did fury like no other.

  “Tyr.” I placed a warning hand on his bicep. He flexed the muscle hard enough to push me away.

  Ugh.

  “I want to know what kind of affliction we’re dealing with,” Tyr growled. “If one of the frost giants found a way through and—”

  “Frost giants?” Disbelief danced across Jason’s features. “Are you okay, man?”

  “Rival gang!” Mia blurted. “There’s this gang in, uh, Eureka.” She named Arcata’s neighboring town. “They’re called the Frost Giants, and sometimes they do, uh, bad things around town.”

  I blinked at my friend. Mia was good. But a healthy dose of skepticism was vibing off Jason. He was her brother—he’d know when she was lying.

  “Mia,” Jason said in a low tone. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re here! Where is everyone?” Elsa slammed the front door.

  “This way,” Henrik barked.

  Elsa and Lornara rushed into the living room. Their faces were mirrors of concern as they dropped to their knees beside the couch. Elsa had to nudge Jason out of the way to claim her place beside Freya.

  “I’m sorry, Jason, but we’re going to need you to leave,” Elsa said gently. “This is a family matter.”

  “A family matter?” Jason balked, whether at Elsa’s words or Lornara’s wings, I wasn’t sure.

  “Yes. Ours may be a bit unconventional, but families come in all shapes and sizes, each as unique as the multitude of beings that comprise them. Lornara, open up the healing bag and pull out the peach aventurine, a selenite wand, and a vial.”

  “You have wings.” Jason stared at Lornara.

  “Cosplay,” Mia blurted. “Jason, meet Lornara. She works at, uh, a renaissance fair.”

  Right.

  “Hi. And I’m not leaving Freya,” Jason said firmly.

  Elsa looked up in surprise. “You have to. Right, Tyr?”

  Tyr shot his sister a look of frustration. “I don’t give a skit anymore what Jason knows or doesn’t know. The only thing I’m worried about is bringing Freya back. Again. Forbäsket, why can’t you heal her already?”

  “What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” Elsa threw up a hand. “That’s been my primary focus for over a year!” She took the slightly cloudy crystal wand Lornara handed her, and ran it along Freya’s body from head to toe. “Jason, I’m sorry, but you really can’t be here right now.”

  “Skit.” Tyr glanced at his phone before turning on one heel to stomp out of the room. “Odin. I have to take this. Elsa, fix her.”

  “I’m trying! Stop yelling at me!”

  “I’m not yelling!” Tyr bellowed over his shoulder.

  “Odin? Like Thor’s dad, Odin? From the movies?” Jason turned to his sister. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Odin’s a, uh, very common name in Sweden.” Mia’s eyes darted to the side—her signature tell.

  “Bull.” Jason folded his arms. “You guys don’t want to tell me what’s happening here, fine. But I’m with Tyr. Do whatever it takes to get Freya better. I don’t know what’s wrong with her. I don’t know what made her pass out. But I…I really like her. And I want to help.”

  Freya drew a shaky breath, but remained otherwise motionless.

  Elsa and Lornara exchanged a glance. The two of them had always shared some secret healer code—one the rest of us never tried to understand. Without a word, Lornara passed over a peach-colored rock, and Elsa pressed it to Freya’s heart. Elsa frowned as the rock pulsed with a brown haze, before resetting to its apparently-resting peach hue.

  “Okay, Jason, come here.” Elsa waved him down.

  Jason knelt between her and Lornara. “Now
what?”

  “We want to try something,” Lornara explained. “Take Freya’s hands in yours, and tell her what you just told us.”

  “That I want to help?” Jason asked uncertainly.

  “That.” Lornara nodded. “And that you like her.”

  “Uh…” Jason eyed the comatose girl on the couch.

  “Trust us,” Elsa said easily.

  “All right.” Jason drew a breath and cupped Freya’s hands between his own. “Freya.” He shot a glance over his shoulder, where Henrik, Mia, and I watched with rapt fascination.

  Oh. Right.

  “Sorry,” I blurted. “Guys, look away.”

  “Right.” Henrik turned to face the window, pulling me along with him. Mia followed suit, and we all took a sudden interest in the twilight that filtered through the redwoods beyond our porch. Jason murmured behind us, too quietly for me to make out the words. Dang it. After a long pause, a sharp intake of air was followed by a swear word I’d never heard pass Elsa’s lips.

  “We were right,” Lornara whispered.

  “Right?” Freya’s shaky voice made me whip right around. Forget privacy—what had Jason done to not only wake her, but get her upright? Freya was three-quarters of the way to being full-on sitting up when just seconds ago she’d been down for the count. What was in that magic rock?

  “Careful.” Lornara guided Freya so she could lean against the plushy cushions. “How are you feeling?”

  “Dizzy,” Freya admitted. “But good. The weight in my chest is gone, and so is the fear I’ve carried since Hel had me trapped in that cage and I thought I’d be stuck in Helheim forev—” She broke off as her focus zeroed in on the mortal kneeling at her feet. “Oh, gods,” she whispered. “I didn’t—I mean…”

  “Thank God you’re okay.” Jason carefully wrapped his arms around Freya.

  Her rigid shoulders softened in his embrace, and she rested her head against his. Her strawberry waves brushed against Jason’s brown ones, and her cheeks flushed a healthy pink as she closed her eyes in what was fast turning into a very personal moment.

  I was about to order Henrik to turn around again, when Jason pulled his head back. “Did you just say someone named Hel trapped you in a cage?”

  Freya’s eyes flew open. “I…uh…”

  “Metaphor,” Mia blurted. “It’s the metaphorical cage of Freya’s, erm, depression?”

  “I am not depressed.” Freya frowned. “At least, I don’t think I am. But ja, the cage was…a metaphor. For whatever’s actually wrong with me.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jason’s expression was unreadable. I had the impression he wasn’t fully buying into our cover story. To be fair, we weren’t exactly being the best secret squirrels.

  Henrik nudged my shoulder as footsteps thundered down the stairs. I followed my boyfriend’s sightline to the entryway, where Tyr burst into the living room. His hair stood in wild tufts atop his head, the whites of his eyes were twice their normal size, and his nostrils flared with heavy breaths. He clutched his phone in one white-knuckled hand.

  Something was majorly wrong.

  “Tyr?” Mia flitted to his side. She placed a gentle hand on his bicep.

  “It’s begun.”

  The room was instantly filled with anxious anticipation.

  “Skit,” Henrik swore. He reached over to wrap one massive hand around mine. I let his warmth encase my palm, even as liquid ice coursed through the rest of my body.

  It’s begun.

  The words settled heavily in my head. Ragnarok was here. And we most definitely were not ready. We’d need to hold a strategy meeting, find out where our team would be shipped to best serve Asgard, figure out who could orchestrate the valkyrie attack since Freya was in no condition to lead us, assemble all the tech we’d crafted and Bifrost it to the Elite Team captains stationed near the most immediate threats—

  “What’s begun?” Jason asked.

  Right. And we’d need to figure out what to do about the worried human still kneeling at Freya’s side. Anxiety pulsed fiercely off the four gods, one älva, and Mia. Jason knelt in the middle of a veritable storm of emotion, taking it all in.

  Skit.

  Elsa’s phone beeped with an incoming message. She slowly drew it from her back pocket, her fingers trembling. “Forse must have heard. He’s on his way back from his…” Her cheeks blanched as what little color she had drained away. “His mom,” she whispered.

  “What about his mom?” Tyr gritted.

  Elsa’s phone clattered to the floor. “No,” she whispered. “Not Nanna.”

  “Elsa? Talk to us,” Tyr ordered. Elsa’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound emerged. With a nod, Tyr stared at his sister. No doubt he’d dived into her head, using the secret sibling communication system Odin had gifted them. Sometimes I envied their ability to read each other’s minds.

  Even when the message they shared was horrific enough to turn both Fredriksens’ faces white.

  “No.” Tyr’s hands trembled, whether with sorrow or rage, I couldn’t yet ascertain.

  Lornara reached for the fallen phone. She picked it up and read Forse’s message.

  “Mom passed minutes before I arrived. My brother says she died of grief. She and Dad will have a joint service.”

  “Skit.” Tyr pulled his shoulders back and barked orders like a drill sergeant. “He doesn’t know it’s begun. Elsa, go get Forse and bring him back here. Lornara, go with her—I don’t want anyone traveling alone right now. Henrik, Brynn, go upstairs and take inventory of all the tech on hand. Pull what you’ll need for our team, and prep the rest for distribution. Mia.” Tyr’s eyes softened as he looked down at his girlfriend. “Take your brother out onto the porch and tell him.”

  What?

  Freya gasped. “Tyr!”

  “Tell him?” Mia’s lips formed a small O. “How much?”

  “Everything.” Tyr shrugged. “Somebody’s going to have to stay behind and protect Freya until she’s fit to resume her duties.”

  “And Jason did say he wanted to help,” Elsa chimed in.

  “Careful what you wish for around here,” Henrik deadpanned. I elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Right.” Mia gave a firm nod, and crossed to the entryway. “Jason, come with me.”

  Jason raised one eyebrow, but followed Mia onto the porch without a word. Elsa and Lornara set a cluster of rocks in front of Freya before stepping back.

  “He makes you better. You know that,” Lornara said softly.

  “I know,” Freya whispered. “But I can’t—I mean, the last time I…It’s not an option.”

  “Things change,” Elsa reminded her. “Maybe this time the Norns will—”

  Freya shut her down with a firm, “I can’t go there.”

  Elsa frowned. “I understand. But try to be open. We need you in the field as soon as you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready now, so—”

  “You’re not fit to lead the valkyries into war. At least, not today.” Tyr’s tone left no room for question. “Look, I know what happened with Rhylark was Helheim for you. And I know you don’t want to walk through that particular fire again. But I need you to do whatever is necessary to get yourself operational as soon as possible. The realms need Love. And the valkyries need their leader.”

  “You can’t tell me to stay here!” Freya’s wide eyes pleaded with Tyr. “I can’t do that. Look what happened the last time I let somebody do my job! Nanna was so busy doing my work, she wasn’t there for Balder when he needed her! And…and now she’s—”

  “You’re benched until you’ve healed from whatever is happening with you. You need to appoint a successor. I’m sorry, but in this condition, you’re a liability.”

  Freya’s shoulders sagged. She dropped back into the cushions of the couch with a heavy sigh. “I understand.”

  Tyr’s eyes filled with compassion. He crossed to the couch and sat beside his friend, taking her hand as she stared bleakly at the wall. After a beat, he looked up
to where Henrik, Elsa, Lornara, and I still stood. “What are you waiting for? You have your orders, now go. Reconvene here in five.”

  Without a word, I turned on one heel and marched from the living room. I hung a left and jogged up the stairs, with Henrik close behind. The click of a door let me know Elsa and Lornara had left to retrieve Forse from Asgard, though how they were going to Bifrost in and out without Jason noticing, if that was even an issue anymore, I had no idea. They’d have to blur pretty far behind the compound to get an undetected pickup—though I supposed even harder tasks lay ahead of us.

  Henrik and I entered the upstairs lab and immediately set about dividing the numerous devices we’d developed during our time in Arcata.

  “I’ve got the aeros and the hydros over here. Three of each; we can keep one set, and send the others to whoever’s captaining the Muspelheim team.” I stuffed two sets of the fire-extinguishing devices into a bag I pulled from a drawer, and moved on to the next piece of tech. “And the vacuum—there’s only one up here, but I think we have more in the garage lab, right?’

  “Right,” Henrik confirmed. He pulled a backpack from the closet and stuffed the extinguishers I’d earmarked for our team inside. “We’ll go downstairs next. What about the meltexes? De-icers should go to the Jotunheim team, but it’s cold season in Nidavellir. Maybe we’ll send one to that captain, too?”

  “It’d be easier to allocate if we knew where the hostilities were focused,” I grumbled.

  “We can change it up after our briefing.” Henrik shoved one of the meltexes into the backpack, and nudged the rest to me. I placed them carefully into a new bag, and moved along to Henrik’s right.

  “Popples?” I asked. “Those transporters should go to whoever’s closest to the open threat, for sure.”

  “Definitely.” Henrik nodded. “We’ll decide after we have more intel. Ugh, too bad we don’t have more of the closers. Portals are going to be popping up all over the place by the time the heavy fighting’s underway. I wish we could send these to every warrior.”

  “Ja, but we can only do what we can do.” I shrugged. “Keep that one with us—you’re protecting Tyr, and we can’t afford to let War fall. Or get captured.”