Perfekt Match (The Ære Saga Book 4) Page 2

  “My math tests were fine, but creative writing was a nightmare.” Mia shuddered. “Thank God it was my last non-core course.”

  “You have a tremendously creative spirit, Mia,” Elsa said gently. “Why was that subject difficult for you?”

  “It wasn’t difficult for her,” I said. “She aced it. She just doesn’t believe it should affect her GPA.”

  “A professor’s opinion shouldn’t impact a student’s grade. Math is either right or wrong. Writing is…well, it’s too subjective to be quantifiable.” Mia frowned at her cupcake.

  “Please. Professor Carter loved you.” I rolled my eyes. Mia had gotten an A on every paper she’d turned in.

  “Either way, we’re done with exams. Now we can enjoy summer vacation.” Mia took a delicate bite of her cupcake.

  “Although apparently by ‘enjoy summer vacation,’ you mean spend six hours a day studying Unifying with my sister and another four working on the closer with Brynn and Henrik.” Tyr shook his head. “You know you can take a break. Don’t you, prinsessa?”

  “Can you take a break?” Mia countered.

  “Depends on what kind of break you have in mind.” Tyr lowered his head to whisper something in Mia’s ear. Her cheeks pinked.

  “Stop it.” She giggled.

  “You’re not going to spend six hours a day with Elsa. She and Forse are busy with wedding prep.” I tried to ignore the way Tyr’s hand moved possessively behind Mia’s chair. He had a thing for his girlfriend’s butt, big-time. Instead, I turned my attention to Elsa. “Speaking of, the big day’s only two months away, and you still haven’t given me any jobs. Come on, you have to need something.”

  “We’re keeping things really simple,” Elsa repeated for the umpteenth time. “Just a quiet ceremony with immediate family and you guys. No pageantry. No frills.”

  “In other words, no fun.” The corners of Mia’s mouth turned down. She objected to Forse and Elsa’s low-key celebration every bit as much as I did. “Y’all have to need us to do something. Flowers? Decorations? Will you please let me bake a cake?”

  “Hey, I called dibs on the cake.” Henrik stared Mia down.

  “See? That’s why we’re keeping it simple.” Forse chuckled. “We want to be married. Everything else is just details.”

  “The details are the fun part!” Mia threw her hands in the air. “Mama would have words with the two of you if she knew you weren’t letting us throw you a shower.”

  “I know. And I appreciate you wanting to make a fuss. But like Forse said, we just want to be married.” Elsa sounded wistful, and I shot a quick glance at Freya to see if she’d picked up on the undertone. Since the love goddess was staring blankly out the kitchen window, I figured we were good.

  When Forse had proposed to Elsa, they’d hoped to be married right away. But Freya’s illness, Forse’s mom taking on Freya’s role, and a string of unseasonable storms that bore an uncanny resemblance to the prophesied markers of Ragnarok—the Norse end of days—had set things back. After a while, Elsa and Forse decided to forego the traditional Asgardian pageantry in favor of a quiet ceremony here on Midgard. Their genuine desire to start their life together was beyond sweet.

  Their refusal to let us make a big deal out of this, however, was so not cool.

  “We’ll sneak something fun in,” I vowed. I mouthed the words “bachelorette party” to Mia, who nodded enthusiastically.

  “Yes,” she mouthed back.

  “No,” Elsa mouthed from my side.

  I burst into laughter.

  Henrik ignored us all. “When does your brother get here, Mia? Saturday?” He and Jason had hit it off when they’d realized that teaming up enabled them to crush Tyr at pool. Since then, my boyfriend had looked forward to Jason’s summertime visit with green mandarin-level enthusiasm. Our basement rec room would never know what had hit it.

  “Yes.” Mia beamed. “That gives me two days to bake all his favorite cookies. Want to help?”

  “That’s right, prinsessa.” Tyr leaned back in his chair. “Weigh him down with sugar so it’s easier for me to destroy him at pool.”

  I blinked innocently. “Isn’t he, like, his fraternity’s best pool player, um, ever?”

  The vein in Tyr’s jaw bulged. Gods, he was so easy to rile.

  Elsa giggled softly. Tyr’s bulge morphed into an angry pulse, and Elsa quickly schooled her face into one of studied calm. “I heard they just gave Jason a special award,” she offered. “All-time greatest pool master.”

  “Pool master?” Henrik snorted beside me. I elbowed him in the ribs. “Uh, right! Yes, he is the official pool master. Mia showed me the e-mail.”

  Mia’s violet–blue eyes executed a perfect roll. “You guys.”

  “Oh, it’s on,” Tyr growled. “This weekend. Tournament of champions. Me. Jason. Whichever of you lot think you can keep up.”

  “No cheating,” Forse warned Tyr. “I remember what happened last time.”

  “I never cheat.” Tyr drew his shoulders back.

  “So that wasn’t you I saw blur around the table last summer? You know, right before you sank the winning shot?” The God of Justice raised one eyebrow.

  “Oh. That. Well, Elsa was going to fall. And she was still frail from being trapped with Runa so—”

  “I was never frail,” Elsa objected.

  “Else.” I frowned. We all knew that was a lie.

  “I was sore, yes. Limping, sure. But never frail.” She raised her chin in defiance.

  Tyr stared at his sister, no doubt doing that weird head-communication thing Odin had gifted them with. After a seemingly intense moment, and what must have been one Helheim of a silent apology, Elsa shrugged. “Fine. I forgive you.”

  “Right. Hey, speaking of Runa, remember Jason still doesn’t know anything about all of this.” Mia waved her hands in front of her, gesturing to the six Norse gods sitting around the table. “He thinks you’re Swedish exchange students and that I just spend some weekends here, so remember (a) Brynn and I live in town, (b) none of you are immortal battle deities or justice deities or love deities”—Freya finally looked up, the flicker of recognition earning her a smile from Mia—"or bodyguards or any of it, okay? I don’t want to blow your cover. And I don’t want to freak him out.”

  “Your brother won’t know a thing.” Freya spoke for the first time since we’d gathered at the table. “We’ve kept this secret for a long time.”

  Mia smiled gratefully. “I’m so happy you’re finally going to get to meet him, Freya.” Her eyes shone with the enthusiasm she always embodied when she talked about her family. “He’s smart, kind, and funny, and he’s really looking forward to spending two weeks with us. Senior exams wiped him out, and he’s ready to blow off some steam.”

  “And nobody blows off steam like a house full of Asgardians, some of whom have been stuck going through Midgard’s version of torture this semester—bodyguarding a mortal who chose organic chemistry for her sophomore science requirement.” I finished off my cupcake with a decisive chomp.

  “And waiting for their girlfriend to stop stressing over exams so she could relax already.” Tyr gave Mia a lingering look. Her cheeks flushed.

  “And who are finally just a few weeks away from marrying the love of their existence.” Elsa batted her crystal blue eyes at her fiancé.

  “Finally.” Forse kissed the top of Elsa’s head. She nestled into his chest with a contented sigh.

  “So, it’s agreed. Mum’s the word about all of this.” Mia gestured around the table again. “We’re just going to rest, and relax, and have the best start of the summer ever. I can’t wait for my brother to get here.” Mia turned to Freya and shot her a brilliant smile. “He’s the best. Oh, Freya. You’re going to love him!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  FREYA

  LOVE WAS NOT WHAT I felt for Mia’s brother. Disdain. Disgust. Intense dislike. But definitely not love.

  When Tyr got serious about our mortal, my duty as Goddess o
f Love required I thoroughly vet her family. Most members had demonstrated exemplary moral character and the appropriate level of respect for humanity, but Jason had attempted to seduce the valkyrie I’d sent to assess his character. Rayn Vindahl was one of my top spies—one who was smart enough not to breach protocol by dallying with a subject. And when she’d rejected Jason’s advances, she found herself abandoned in a bar at midnight. As a member of my elite fighting team, she’d ably deflected the aggressive advances of drunken males. But had she been the mortal she’d pretended to be, she would have been horribly compromised…all because Jason Ahlström was far from the angel his sister believed him to be.

  The realms would darken Mia enough. I’d never tell her the truth.

  My head nestled deeper into my pillows as I studied the hail now pelting my bedroom window. A new storm had just kicked in, the latest in a series of unusual weather patterns wreaking havoc on our coastal California town. The winter’s snowfalls were clear markers of Ragnarok—the not-so-mythological end of days. According to Asgardian prophesies, a string of winters coupled with cosmos-wide unrest would culminate in the death of Forse’s dad—Asgard’s God of Light—and trigger the sequence of Ragnarok. The fact that Balder’s wife, Nanna, had abandoned her position as Goddess of Warmth to cover my job made me sick. All of Nanna’s attention should have been focused on surrounding her husband with love, compassion, and hope—the positive energies that deflected the fear, hatred, and anger that would be the light god’s undoing. But Balder was more exposed than ever.

  All because of me.

  I’d have given anything to god up—to seize control of my own mind the way I’d commanded my legion of valkyries since the day I’d been gifted that honor. But I couldn’t claw my way out of whatever darkness Hel had created in me. The deep, aching void that drained joy from my heart and left my head in a near-constant fog would not be eradicated by crystals or flower essences or meditation or prayer or, bless, the absence of caffeine. I’d explained this to Elsa—and quietly advised Henrik sneak espresso to Brynn in the interim—but our High Healer couldn’t accept what was.

  I was sick. Maybe terminally so. And nothing we’d tried was helping.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  The light rapping pulled me from the bleak landscape of my thoughts. My gaze shifted from the window to the door.

  “Freya?” Brynn’s tentative call from the other side crushed my heart. Her fear reminded me of exactly how weak I was. How was I supposed to pull myself together if everyone kept acting as if I was already half dead?

  “Freya?” Brynn hemmed. “You in there?”

  “Ja. Come in.”

  I tried not to break down at the way Brynn carefully opened the door and sidestepped into my room, as if one wrong move would terrorize me. The strong-willed captain had been one of my favorite charges since the day she arrived at the valkyrie compound, shiny-eyed and ready to conquer the cosmos. I’d foreseen the brightness of her star when we were still in school, but when she submitted herself to the order I knew that Brynn would rule the realms one day. Possibly in my place.

  “How are you feeling?” she hedged.

  “I’m okay. Cupcakes were fun.” I injected as much cheer as I could into the words, but they still sounded flat. My cool tone was foreign to me, even after all these months. When had I stopped being warm, and compassionate, and…loving? The wall between me and my friends grew thicker by the day.

  I hated it.

  “Yeah…” Brynn’s teeth raked her bottom lip. This was more than just nerves—something was wrong.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Well, I don’t want to worry you, but…” Brynn wrung her fingers together.

  “Spit it out, valkyrie.”

  Brynn sucked in a deep breath before blurting, “Frigga just called, and she’s super freaked out. She made all the beings in the realms take an oath not to hurt Balder, thinking that would just be an additional layer of security. But once word got out, the council lifted its protections and the guards Odin had protecting Balder stepped down, and everyone in Asgard’s celebrating by taking their best shot. At Balder.”

  I leapt from my bed so quickly, the grey–blue walls spun. Brynn blurred to my side, her steady hands holding me upright. “We have to stop them. An oath’s not going to keep Balder alive. And it’s not going to stop Ragnarok.”

  “I know.” Brynn’s fingers tightened around my shoulders. “Tyr’s on his way to catch the Bifrost—he’s going alone. He asked Elsa to take Forse on a hike for a few hours—distract him while she sends her Unifying energy to Asgard. He’s afraid of what Forse might do if he sees…well, what’s going on. Henrik’s staying here to run communications. I figured you’d want to know.”

  “Know?” I grabbed my jacket from my closet, and shoved my arms through the holes as I barreled down the hall. “I’m going with him.”

  “That’s a bad idea.” Footsteps pounded behind me on the stairs. “You need your rest.”

  “I do nothing but rest.” I flung the front door open. Tiny balls of ice pelted my face as I charged toward the clearing between Tyr’s cabin and Elsa’s. “Stay here and look after Mia. Let Elsa know where I am when you make contact with her. And if Forse finds out…tell him I’m doing everything in my power to help his dad.”

  “Freya! Please!” Brynn cried.

  I ignored her, closing the distance between me and the Bifrost site in a display of sheer Asgardian speed.

  Tyr’s brow furrowed as he registered my sudden appearance. “Freya?”

  “I’m coming with you.” My tone left no room for argument.

  “But—”

  “No buts, War. Heimdall!” I raised my head to the sky. “Bifrost!”

  The immediate burst of wind and flash of light caught me off guard. Tyr reached out as I stumbled, pulling me against his chest. I steadied myself before taking a step back.

  “You should be resting,” he said. “Doing this together is not a good idea.”

  “Then don’t come.” I moved out of the hailstorm, entering the rainbow with crossed arms. My heart tripped over the chill in my voice, but I didn’t bother lamenting the goddess I’d become post-Helheim. It wouldn’t do me any good.

  And it sure as skit wouldn’t help us save Balder.

  “Fine.” Tyr sighed. “Brynn, keep my girl safe. Tell her I’ll help her with the baking when I get home.”

  “Not sure that’s a prize in her world.” Brynn rubbed her arms against the cold. “Just protect Balder—stop this madness, reinstitute the guards, Helheim, bring him here—we’ll take care of him. Do what you have to do to keep him safe.”

  Tyr and I exchanged a loaded look. We understood what was at stake. The God of Light wasn’t just the last thing standing between us and Ragnarok; he was also Forse’s dad. If Balder fell, Forse would be devastated. Nanna would be heartbroken. Their souls would be shattered beyond repair, and the fabric of our unconventional little family would be forever altered.

  We couldn’t let that happen.

  Tyr gripped my hand and looked to the sky. “To Asgard,” he ordered.

  And just like that we were sucked into the sky, pushed through Midgard’s atmosphere, and rocketed toward the realm of the gods.

  I hope we’re not too late.

  **

  “Tyr, thank gods you have arrived. Odin is away managing a conflict with the fire giants, and I did not know where to turn.” Frigga, Odin’s wife and the queen of Asgard, threw herself at my friend. Her petite frame trembled in his sturdy arms, their faces a masterpiece of grief and worry, set against the pristine backdrop of Asgard’s central lake and silver willow tree. Frigga’s handmaiden, Yande, stood off to the side.

  “I came as soon as I heard.” Tyr tapped Frigga’s shaking shoulders. Mia had brought out a softer side of War, but his stiff back and wide eyes made it clear he still wasn’t comfortable around female tears. Bless.

  “Oh, Tyr. I did everything I could to talk them out of this, but th
ey would not listen to me. They are in the meadow adjacent to the dark forest, whipped up into a frenzy. They must be under a spell to be so intent on playing a game that can only end in…in…” Frigga’s voice cracked, and she burst into a fresh wave of tears. She threw her head back and wailed at the heavy grey clouds. “Nanna will never forgive me!”

  “Where is Nanna?” I asked.

  Frigga lifted her head from Tyr’s chest. His cream-colored Henley bore two tear-laden patches. Oh, Frigga.

  “Freya.” Frigga wiped the moisture from her eyes. “You should not be here. You need to rest, regain your strength.”

  Frigga, too? “I’m fine.” The words were aural ice. “Does Nanna know what’s happening?”

  “No.” Frigga sniffled. “Before he left, Odin made it clear that she was not to be disturbed.”

  “While a group of crazy gods try to kill her husband?” It took all of my self-control not to stamp my foot in the flower-dotted grass. “Is Odin insane?”

  “Freya,” Frigga chastised. “You must not speak against our ruler.”

  I’d spoken against our ruler plenty of times; I’d called him out every time one of Odin’s decisions put my valkyries at undue risk. Balder may not have been under my charge, but he was my friend’s father, and Asgard’s Ragnarok trigger. If somebody needed to say harsh words to save our realm, I had no problem being the whistleblower.

  “Nanna must be informed,” I reiterated. “Immediately.”

  “Freya’s right.” Tyr offered a nod of solidarity. Also, of sanity. “Nanna needs to know what’s going on. The whole of Asgard is aware of the consequences inherent in putting Balder at risk. If its members are knowingly endangering his life, they cannot be acting of their own volition—dark magic must be at play. And the strongest available countermeasure to darkness is our Goddess of Warmth. Contact Nanna at once.”

  “That is not possible.” Frigga shook her head. “She is in Odin’s personal meditation chamber, attempting to rectify a pressing matter.”

  “What? What could she be doing that is more important than saving her husband’s förbaskat life?” Tyr growled.