Fall (The Ragnarok Prophesies) (34 page)

Sköll and Hati were stronger than us. They were smarter than us. But repeating those words a thousand times didn’t make the truth any easier to digest. It really was our lives for the world. Exactly like I had told Dace so many days ago.

When it came right down to it, I didn’t want to accept the truth anymore than he did.

“Can you watch Fuki for a little while?” I asked, turning to Chelle.

She was seated on the bed, the paisley comforter over her legs.

She glanced up from the small television set. “Huh?”

“Can you watch Fuki?” I asked again.

“Um….” She furrowed her brow as if uncertain if she could watch him or not. “Where are you going?”

“To get some coffee,” I nodded vaguely in the direction of the diner on the opposite side of the street. “I need a change of scenery.”

“Oh.” Chelle bit her lip, looked at Fuki, and then nodded.

I grabbed my coat.

“Do you want me to call Ronan to go with you?”

My fake smile slipped. “No.”

“You have to talk to him eventually, Ari.”

“I know,” I said, pushing my arms through my coat sleeves. “Just… not yet.”

Chelle sighed and then nodded. “Be careful out there. The news says the storm is going to get worse.”

Wasn’t that the story of my life? Things always got worse.

There was probably a lesson in there somewhere, but I didn’t really want to learn it. I wanted to do… something. All we’d done for days was drive and wait. And now we were here, and we were waiting again. Waiting for me to grow up and make a choice.

Well, I was tired of waiting.

“I will,” I promised, grabbing one of the keycards off the flimsy desk before heading toward the door. “I’ll see you in a little bit.”

Chelle nodded.

Fuki yipped when I reached the door, thumping his tail against the edge of the desk. He wanted to go with me.

“Stay,” I demanded.

He lowered his head and whined.

“Come on, Fuki,” Chelle cooed, patting the bed beside her. “You can keep me company.”

The little wolf looked between the two of us and then huffed at me before trotting back to Chelle’s side.

I let myself out, fighting against the wind to pull the door closed behind me. Cold rain slapped me in the face, the drops stinging where they struck. Little more than the safety railing in front of me was visible in the downpour.

I jerked my hood over my head and hunched my shoulders before grasping the railing and starting forward, searching blindly for the stairs. I barely planted my foot on the top step when Ronan appeared beside me like a wraith. He wore no coat, nothing to protect him from the rain pelting us from all sides.

“So you’re going to keep running,” he said.

“I’m going to see Dr. Michel,” I said. “Go away.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“I’m going alone.”

He looked at me, rain pouring down his face. “You know he can’t help you. You knew it before we left Beebe.”

“Maybe you’re wrong,” I lied. Dr. Michel couldn’t help us anymore than I could stroll up to Sköll and Hati and talk them out of their destiny. Going to see the Professor was a fool’s errand, just as it had been from the very beginning, but I didn’t want to admit that to Ronan even if I knew it myself.

“I’m not wrong, and you know I’m not.”

I ignored him, and started down the stairs, grasping the railing so I didn’t fall.

Ronan followed behind me, the stairs vibrating beneath my feet at his heavy footfalls. Mine were unsteady on the slippery cement, but somehow, I made it to the bottom without falling.

I turned into the rain, pushing blindly forward.

“Go back to your room before you hurt yourself, Arionna.”

I jerked to a stop and glared up at Ronan. He stared down at me, his expression dark. Something lingered in his gaze, concern flickering in the depths of his black eyes.

I think he actually cared if I hurt myself.

“Leave me alone,” I muttered without heat, momentarily taken off guard by the worry on his face. I stiffened my spine, refusing to be swayed. He was still Ronan, still the raven of memory. The one who could tear a person apart without remorse. Somewhere in the last few weeks, I’d forgotten that.

“No.”

“Why are you even here?” Tears dripped down my face, but I knew Ronan wouldn’t see them. Not even his perceptive, bird eyes could tell the difference between the deluge of rain pummeling us and the tears clouding my vision.

“You need me here,” he said.

I glared at him. I didn’t need him here. Right now, I didn’t even want him here.

“What happened to you?” he asked, water running down his face too.

“Nothing happened to me,” I snapped.

“You were always stronger than Dace. No matter the odds, you never gave up. Even when Freki started failing, you kept fighting.” He shook his head. “And now you’ve quit. You’ve given up.”

“You told me to give up,” I reminded him, dashing at my eyes to clear my view of him.

“No, I didn’t.” He looked at me, a mixture of pity and disgust in his eyes. “I told you what you needed to hear.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Reality, Arionna,” he said. “I’m talking about reality.”

I didn’t understand him, and I was so tired of trying. “Did you know before we left that Dace wouldn’t be able to communicate with Geri if I wasn’t there?”

His silence spoke volumes.

I balled my fist up and punched him as hard as I could.

His nose crunched beneath my hand and blood flew, splattering us both as his head jerked backward. A curse tumbled from his lips.

“I hate you,” I whispered when his eyes met mine again. “I really hate you.”

He reached up to wipe away the blood trickling from his nose. “No, you don’t. You just wish you did.”

I glared at him, trying to decide if I wanted to hit him again or not.

“How could you?” I seethed. “Why?”

He sighed as if his patience with me had finally run out. “Have you heard nothing I’ve said to you? I’m trying to help you.”

“Help me?” I laughed, the sound bordering on the edge of hysteria. “How have you helped me, Ronan? You lied to me,” I whispered, my throat raw. “You let me believe leaving would help him.”

Ronan shook his head, flinging drops of water and blood this way and that. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” I yelled, frustration boiling over. “What the hell am I supposed to get, Ronan?”

How could he stand there and tell me I didn’t get it? I understood better than anyone what we stood to lose. Fenrir haunted my dreams, not his. Hati nearly killed me, not him. I “got it” a whole hell of a lot better than he thought I did.

“Dace is going to die, just like you said.” I clutched my stomach, fighting to breathe through the sobs threatening to tear me in half.

“Then do something about it,” Ronan snapped, narrowing his eyes. He looked terrifying with blood and water dripping down his face in tandem. He crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing me sideways. “You’re so wrapped up in trying to find someone to save Dace, you can’t even see what’s right in front of you. There’s no one else out there who can save Dace because he doesn’t care about anyone else, Arionna. He cares about you. So stop feeling sorry for yourself, stop doubting yourself, and
listen
to me. Listen, dammit!”

His shout reverberated like the strike of lightning, shaking me to my core. I’d never heard him yell before. Even when Dace was in his face, screaming at him, Ronan never shouted back.

I gaped, stunned into silence in that moment when his shout bounced off raindrops and echoed in the parking lot around us.

“I’m listening,” I whispered when I found my voice again.

“I don’t know if you can save him this time,” Ronan said, no longer shouting at me. “But he isn’t the only one in danger here. Dani’s sisters are being targeted, and they need you, too. Dace made his choice. Now you need to make yours. Is saving your boyfriend really worth the lives of your friends? Is that the kind of person you want to be?”

For a heartbeat, I considered telling Ronan to go to hell. I thought about making the same choice Dace had, and saying to hell with everyone else. I didn’t ask for this responsibility, and I didn’t want it any more than he did. I wanted to be selfish.

But then I thought of Chelle and the sister she left behind to follow me. I thought of Buka and her selfless choice to let Fuki go. Of Kalei, who could lose her entire pack before all was said and done. I even thought of Ronan, who had his heart ripped out when Dani died, but still found a way to keep fighting. And I knew there was no choice, not really. Like Ronan said, my friends needed me, and that meant something.

It meant everything.

I loved Dace. I would always love him. But I couldn’t keep putting him first. There was no one out there who could save him. There was only me. And no matter how much it hurt, I had to start thinking about everyone else. I had to let Dace go, the same way he had let me go. For all of our sakes… we had to let go.

“Ouch.” Ronan winced as Chelle pressed a washcloth full of ice to his broken nose. It was already beginning to swell. He looked a lot less intimidating through watery, red-rimmed eyes than he had with blood running down his face.

“Suck it up. You heal fast.” Chelle scowled, taking his hand and slapping it over the ice.

Ronan hissed in pain, but grabbed the makeshift icepack to hold it in place without a word.

I felt a certain, savage satisfaction in Chelle’s rough bedside manner. Even if he was right, it wasn’t his place to keep the truth from me. Oddly enough though, I wasn’t mad at him for not telling me about Dace. In a weird, messed up way, I respected Ronan.

He’d lost more than most of us, but he still saw the bigger picture clearly. He claimed he was only in this for revenge, but he kept going out of his way to keep the rest of us safe. I never expected that from him. I never expected to consider him a friend. But… I did.

Ronan was my friend.

Weird.

I looked up to find his gaze on me.

“We can’t go back yet,” I told him.

Chelle turned to look at me. Even Fuki lifted his head.

“Even if you’re right, and Idun can’t save Dace, we still have to look for her. If she’s out there, we need to know if she’s working with Sköll and Hati because she chose it, or if she’s being forced to help them.”

“And if it’s the former?” Ronan asked.

“Then at least we know,” I said. Until we knew for sure if we had a rogue goddess on our hands, going back to Beebe wouldn’t make a difference. I couldn’t fight for anyone if I didn’t know what I had to fight.

“So what do we do?” Chelle asked.

I gave her a sympathetic grimace. “You’re going back to Beebe,” I said.

She opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off.

“You have to go back. We’re looking for someone who might be helping Sköll and Hati. Someone we can’t kill. We can’t afford for anyone on their team to get their hands on you, Chelle.” They would kill her without hesitation. “Ronan and I won’t be able to protect you from her.”

“What else is new?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Her chin had a stubborn tilt to it, as if she planned to dig in her heels and refuse unless we gave her a damn good reason. I didn’t really expect her to agree without a fight anyway. Chelle was scared, but unlike some of us, she wasn’t a coward.

“She’s right,” Ronan said, rocking his chair back on two legs to rest against the wall.

Chelle whipped her head in his direction, pinning him with an icy glare.

“It was different when we were going to see a professor we all knew wouldn’t be able to help us. There was no real danger there, but I can’t babysit you and try to find a goddess, too,” he said bluntly. “Especially if she’s aligned herself with Sköll and Hati.”

“We don’t even know if she’s out there!”

“We don’t know she isn’t, either.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Chelle snapped.

“You do need to be protected though,” I said before Ronan could argue with her further. “Sköll and Hati will kill you if they find you, and we can’t afford to lose you, Chelle. Beth can’t afford to lose you, not now.”

Chelle winced at the painful reminder. For a minute, though, I wasn’t sure whether or not she would back down. And then her shoulders slumped.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll go back.”

I stepped up beside her and bumped her with my shoulder. “We need you safe.”

Not because she was quite possibly one of the last two people alive Sköll and Hati absolutely had to kill to succeed, but because she was important to all of us. She was a friend, a voice of reason, and a bright spot in the encroaching dark. We needed her because we were all messed up, and she helped keep all of us sane. No matter what, she always listened. She didn’t judge any of us, or tell us what to do. She listened. She was the descendant of a god, but she was the best reminder we had of what we were fighting for. Humanity, hope, compassion, and everything good we stood to lose.

Leading her into the lion’s den wasn’t an option.

She gave me a half-hearted smile. “I know, but I don’t want you chasing this person down on your own.”