Addictive Nightshade (19 page)

“
Þur through and through. The Skadi in you wants to go and meet the gods to challenge them without even flinching.” He hangs his head, sighing heavily with his shoulders slumping. “Damn, for a second there I was hoping we could elope and hide away forever.”

“
You aren't the hiding type,” I shake my head, offering him my hand and nearly dislocating my shoulder in the effort to haul him up to a stand again.

“
Em...?”

“
Mac....?” I smile back, sucking on my bottom lip at the tone he executed to strum my name.

“
We don't marry, but... we're mated... and... well... there'll never be a ceremony or any official document... but... would you...”

He droops back onto his knees, clamping my hand in his like it's an anchor, “Will you marry me? Heart to heart? We'll even wear rings. We'll do something that means 'marriage' to us.”

“
I don't need a ring, Mac. Well, maybe a cock ring,” I tease, slumping to the ground with him when I have a fit of giggles at his expression. “I'm teasing! I swear!”

“
Emma...?” he frowns, looking at me the way a dying man does when he finally notices the pain is coming from the blade sticking out of his chest.

“
Yes! Of course yes!”

And the next second I'm flipped, flat on my back, kissed so hard into the snow it freezes the back of my head.

I don't care! Gripping tight, my hand clamping his nape and indulging in the soft warmth covering such rigid strength, I plunder his mouth the way he's screwing mine.

Just to be safe I pull the fog over us, clouding out the world, willing to risk frostbite.

He loves me, and I didn't even have to click my heels!

Chapter 28

Emma:

Walking down the third valley I'm getting bored. We're strolling hand in hand as if we haven't a care in the world, and I use the opportunity to pry.

“So what about the Raven clan? What happens now?”

He looks down at me with fondness, “Everything we're doing is being written into the Book of Shadows. They already know what we're up to and as no one has stopped us, which they can in a mass flock of intervention, we have their consent to carry on. If they needed us they'd have sent a messenger.”

“Oh, okay,” I nod, musing. “Are we going to walk all the way to wherever Eagle live?”

“
Eagle live in the Blackmount Forest in the Argyle highlands. It's called Buachaille Etive Mor, and it's in Glencoe.”

I give him the who – what - I haven't a clue, stare.

Smiling with a chuckle, he shakes his head, “We needed more time on your tuition. It's in Scotland.”

“
Oh,” I say, doing an exaggerated lip O. “So what kind of eagles are they?”

“
Golden eagles. Like your eye elskling, that was your big clue.” His expression darkens when he says, “Humans are fucking idiots. They've hunted the golden eagle to near extinction which has made it a protected species in Scotland, but because they see eagles flying they think there are loads of them, not understanding that more than two-thirds of the eagles they witness flying are Hræsvelgr giants in avatar form. They live in the catacombs up there. It's a very dark and mysterious place, you'll see when we get there.”

“
Who?” I mutter.

“
Hræsvelgr, high he who sits at heaven's ending, Giant in eagle's coat; From his wings, they say, the wind cometh. All men-folk over. There is much to be told. An eagle sits at the top of the ash, and it has knowledge of many things. Between its eyes sits the hawk called Vedrfolnir,” he recites.

“
Right. And how exactly do you plan for us to get all the way there? I don't think I'm fit enough to fly over oceans, plus I've not changed yet so don't know if I even can.”

Planting his feet and stalling me, he looks out at the vista dipping majestically before us like a winter royal carpet of forest, “Let's do it then.”

“Do what?”

“
Change into avatar form. We'll move faster. When we get to Saskatchewan we'll become shadows again. A shadow can travel on any plane without detection. Borders and visas mean nothing to us. The international airport isn't far from Saskatchewan.”

He's not letting go, insistent we not move until I take to the skies.

“I don't know how!” I grumble, feeling insecure and inadequate again.

“
It's time,” he says in a no nonsense tone. “Partly because I need to see what your avatar is. It might help us. You could be an eagle with a wingspan of over eight feet. You'd totally kick my ass in a dogfight.”

“
Or I could be a plump white cloud, without direction, and who burns out in the sun,” I argue.

“
Or,” he growls, “You could be an owl. They're native to this region and to Scotland. There are no coincidences in Norse locations and secret disguises.”

“
And then my wingspan will be?” I ask.

“
Five and a half feet, more or less. Which still makes you larger than me as a bird. You'll top my wingspan by a foot.”

“
This conversation is insane. I sound like I've lost my mind.”

Ignoring my crisis, he says to the scenery, “I think you'll be owl because your natural camo is white, and they're nocturnal. The nocturnal aspect fits with your harii ancestry, being a shadow who attacks at night. Skadi is known to adopt its form.”

“Mac! I can't just do it because you insist I can!”

“
Actually, that's where you're wrong.” He holds up his hand, the one with the valhalla sigil, “I can make you do it when I do it.”

Raising both eyebrows, I snap, “Oh really? And what else can you make me do with that? Damn it, Mac! Now you have me doubting everything I've experienced with you, how much of it was your interference?”

“I can influence your inborn abilities, not control you! For fuck's sake, do you have such a low opinion of me?”

Holding up my hands, I am fast sapping, “Stop, this is stress. This is rubbish. It's got nothing to do with my opinion of you–”

“Wrong, it has everything to do with your opinion of me. If you doubt my integrity then I'm taking you back this second. If we've not got trust, we've got nothing.”

“
You know I trust you!” I wail.

“
Do I? Then why the hel are we having this conversation?”

It hurts and despite my pride I can feel emotion precipitating in my eyes. Looking away I face the panorama, wishing I could just fly away.

The more I think about it the heavier my limbs feel. I feel like I got stuck in quicksand. It's oppressing, bearing down on me like a black hole. It's a suck of gravity so severe it makes me bilious.

And then I realize I can see the opposite ridge as clearly as if it is a foot in front of me. Looking about, the whole world is vivid, sharp, in focus, my vision zooming in with total clarity no matter where I stare.

Turning to Mac to say as much I grumble when I see him in Raven form. The mutter comes out like the click of a tongue.

What?

“Mac?” I ask, and I say 'kew' instead.

He runs at me scooting his head under my ass and forcing me to run away. What the hell!

The ground's too close. Oh god! What the freak is happening? I have to lift my arms to keep my balance and the wind scoops down, lifting me. I'm hovering over the ground! Help!

Flap your wings, elskling!
laughs in my head.

He pulls alongside me, sweeping his wings down so hard it buffers me, sending me into a ditzy tizz. Scrambling I copy him, the motion effortless, the sensation liberating when I arc up, flying for the clouds. What am I? I don't dare look for fear I'll fall. Focus!

Owl, a big beautiful white owl. I knew it!

Laughing with joie de vivre, my voice comes out in the cutest clucky chirrups, I still sound female even as a bird.

Not just a bird, the hottest chick in the northern skies. Fuck Em, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.

Mac I'm scared! What do we do now?

Fly, elskling. Soar!

Lead me! I need someone to copy
, I wail.

He listens, flying ahead of me, able to look back often without plummeting, and I press my arms down when he does, lifting up when he does, glancing down and instantly heady with the distance we've climbed in no time at all.

Over there, see it? Let's go flatten that mountain.

Staring ahead I see it without the need of a telescope. Far away is a snow covered peak, waiting for me to resurrect it as Mt Macala.

Nothing is impossible. I'm a Thur, a shadow, a raven, an owl, I'm a giant of Valhalla.... Oh my freaking god, this is tremendous!

Now I know I can do what he says I can. I'm a badass chick who is the shit kicker, no longer needing to wear them while skulking in shadowed nightclubs.

And then?
I laugh to Mac.

And then we catch a plane, walking in shadows, and go to our kin, the eagle. The world is ours, elskling. This is just the beginning.

Flapping furiously I delve upward into the cloud cover, buoyed by it, elevated and accelerated out above them with my affinity to the vapor, like a valkyrie with the clearest view of heaven I watch as a dark raven appears from the brume ahead of me, one lone black shadow in front of the still rising sun.

Daring to glance down I see a perfectly round rainbow on the clouds, like a portal of bifrost to Asgard.

It is a portal to Asgard!

Exhilarated I yell to Mac, and my soul ascends when I hear his exuberant caw back.

The Raven and the Owl flew across the dawn, the perfect unity of our goddess Skadi, humble born who ascended to the rank of goddess and Odin's wife because she never took no for an answer, she knew too much, it was inside her all along.

I didn't know owls could experience such liberating joy until a black beak clacks against mine and he strokes my wing with his, keeping me aloft, egging me on, to my destiny.

Now I see it, so close, in his feathers he has a perfect triangle The mark of valhalla!

Edging closer I tap it with my mouth, kissing it, a peck in every sense of the word. He spirals out of control, dipping head over tail and disappearing into the clouds. Panicked, I reach out with all my energy to feel the clouds, using my senses to knot them closer, making them so dense they force him up, expelling him back into the pristine view above the world.

He butts me, indicating we land. Miserable that my fun is cut short so abruptly I follow him, tracking him the way a phantom follows a shadowrealm through the door of eternity.

Alighting next to him he bites my wing, holding it fast,
Don't change back.

Watching him with utter confusion, I wish I could smile when he presses his head straight down to his chest, plucking out an ebony feather from over his heart, laying it gently on my feet, then snuggling in the nesting sit so he's positioned under my head looking up at me.

Emma, will you marry me in a gifting of heart feather?

My legs cave weakly on the stony ridge and I sit with him, struggling to pull a feather, screeching when I do.

Mine has blood covering the white quill tip when I put it down over the feather he offered me. Resting my head tiredly over them, wishing I understood more so I could do this sacrosanct moment justice.

A wide black wing folds over me, tucking me under his wing, a gentle timber cooing in my head,
I promise I'll always take care of you. I'll always hold you under my wing and close to my heart.

It's too much, too earnest and potent, the weight of strange gravity lifting. Seeing hands I wipe away my tears, picking him up as a raven, saying, “And I'll always have long hair for you to hide in, and a hood to keep you in the crook of my neck, close to my thoughts, and a nest for you in my heart.”

He shifts, widening my hold until my arms are instead around his middle, kissing me in a fresh flurry of petal soft snowflakes.

Lifted off my feet, his arms engulf me in support.

When he finally releases me he bends, arresting our feathers, rudely tugging one of the long strands of hair out of my head, then stepping close, sifting his hand inside the neckline of my shirt, pulling out my Asgard chain. Methodically he binds his feather to my necklace, tucking it back in where it presses the promise over my heart.

Then he hooks his own out to shine bright silver on his black shirt, using what's left of the strand to tie a white feather with a black tip to his. Only now do I realize it's representative of Skadi. White and black, embodied together in one unit. It looks like us. The children of the eternal night, the children of the eternal sun.

Smiling like a maniac, I love that he's a romantic sap.

Twisting so we're close, our bodies touching, he holds my hands, leaning in to kiss me, and I close my eyes, deliriously happy, when the wily man manages to hook my left hand so it can seal with his.

My eyes burst bright inside my eyelids and I automatically open them, seeing not sky and cloud behind his head, but an entire atmosphere covered in glowing people just floating out there like the striations on a bubble.

“
Welcome to Jötunheimr, Emma.”

Squealing, I'm bouncing with excitement when he snags me in his death grip, lifting me higher, our hands still sealed, and does a three-sixty holding me in his embrace.

A star flick-flacks around, aiming right for us across the cloud bed surrounding our precarious peak.

Mac doesn't even seem to have to think before he reacts, breaking our seal to punch his arm into the sky, catching the long trajectory.

Pulling his arm down he offers me a luminous sword of crystal brilliance.

“
Your sword, madam. Now you're officially one of Valhalla's warriors.”

I can't believe it. This is all like some fantastical dream.

Tentative, I fold my hand around his fist, watching the 'angels' wink out of existence one by one as if the valkyries and gods simply made an appearance to witness my induction into the halls of Asgard.

He lets me slide down him back to the ground. With terra firma solidly underfoot I dare to take a firmer hold, incredulous when he releases it and it's as weightless as a beam of light.

“You are a shadow. Only shadows get the sword. With this you will slay evil men for Odin.”

“
But it's too pretty to use for murder,” I object, still in awe of my sword. It prisms like the rainbow crystals.

“
It's not murder. Your sword is a slice of spirit's power. It rescues the good locked inside the bad. There's good in everyone, but those who hurt just can't find it. We rescue them, Em. We aren't hurting them, we're simply stopping them from hurting others. It's that simple.”