Perfekt Control (The Ære Saga Book 2) (27 page)

With my power at an all-time high, I wrenched
my hands apart, knowing I’d break the ropes. Surely Hel’s dark
magic couldn’t bind all the love had Odin gifted to me. But the
ropes didn’t move. It wasn’t enough.

My heart constricted, reminding me that I
hadn’t unleashed the most powerful tool in my arsenal.

Oh, gods.

Henrik represented my biggest fear—the fear
that after all the years of friendship, of knowing all my hopes and
dreams, my secrets and flaws, that he would reject me. And a
rejection by the god who knew me better than anyone was something I
didn’t think even my abundantly blessed heart could take. But as I
watched him bleeding, his bare hands turning blue with Hel’s icy
enchantment as he tried to choke the underworld’s leader to save
the nine realms, I realized there was nothing to gain by holding
myself back.

There was only everything to lose.

I opened the hermetically sealed black box
and unleashed the love I felt for Henrik. For the child who’d stood
up for me on the playground, the adolescent who took the high road
when so many of his friends chose the easy way out, for the warrior
who dedicated his life to protecting the gods he loved, and the
realms he was sworn to defend. With no effort at all, I let the
waves of love wash over me, and I pushed the feeling through my
torso, out my extremities, and directed it at Henrik.

It was probably coincidence, or maybe Hel was
distracted by the change in my energy—Elsa swore energetic shifts
were palpable, and maybe she was right. But as I opened myself up
to the unfettered love I could no longer restrain, the power
shifted from Hel to Henrik. Suddenly he had the upper hand, and it
was Hel who looked on him with fear. The blue ebbed from Henrik’s
fingers as he tightened his grip around Hel’s neck. He pushed her
to the ground, driving his knee into her chest with a glorious
crack. She lay pinned beneath him, her mouth opening and closing
like a fish as she struggled for breath. And Henrik drew his
dagger, holding it high above his head.

“Checkmate.” Henrik grinned down at his
conquest. “Tyr, what’s the order?”

Tyr exhaled loudly. My gaze shifted to where
he was locked in a stand down with Nidhogg. The dragon had its feet
wrapped protectively around its thick red crystal, while Tyr had
his hands wrapped comfortably around the helm of his broadsword. He
held the sword high, ready to deflect a flame or impale a lizard.
Or maybe both.

“Tyr,” Henrik urged. I could see the desire
to remove the threat written across his beautiful features. It was
what he did. And I loved him for it.

Gods, I loved him
so very much
. If I
had to wait two hundred more years to act on that love, I’d do it.
He was worth it.

“Now we play let’s make a deal.” Tyr kept his
sword aloft. “I want the crystal, Freya, Brynn, and the promise
these monsters never again attempt to harm our love goddess
in
any way
. I also want you to release the dwarves I know you’re
keeping somewhere in here, and send them back to their home realm.
That’s right—I know about your weird science experiment. In
exchange, we free the trapped dragons and let you live. Do we have
a bargain?”

Hel’s mouth opened and closed. Now, more than
just her left side had turned dark blue.

“I said, do we have a bargain?” Tyr’s calm
voice echoed off the smooth icy walls.

Henrik loosened his grip just enough for Hel
to squeak her consent. The dragon king narrowed its eyes, but gave
a regal nod.

“The words are binding. Let it be done.” Tyr
lowered his sword and Nidhogg nudged the crystal forward with one
giant toe. Henrik looked disappointed, but removed his hand from
Hel’s throat and stepped off her chest. She curled into the fetal
position, gasping and clawing at her throat.

“Release them,” Tyr growled.

Hel glared, but she waved a hand in my
direction. Freya’s cage disappeared at the same time the searing
pain left my head, ankles and wrists. I ran to Freya’s side, and
wrapped my arms around her shoulders, helping her stand. Her eyes
were foggy and unrecognizing. She felt cold and weak in my arms. No
doubt she’d experienced horrors she wouldn’t want to relive.

“It’s okay,” I murmured as I pulled her to
me. Her teeth chattered against my shoulder. “We’ve got you. And we
have their word this will never happen again.”

“
Takk
,” Freya rasped into my chest.
Her body shook from head to toe.

“We’ve got to get her out of here.” I turned
to Hel, ignoring the way her eyes shot icy venom. “What’s the
fastest way back to the cavern room?”

“The cavern room?” she asked.

“You know; the place you drop into when you
jump from the outlands—the spot where all the dragons are. The
first space this side of the black abyss of Hel’s gate. If you want
us to uphold our bargain and free the dragons, tell us the fastest
way to get there. Then we can get out of here, and Odin willing,
never
come back.”

“Maybe you won’t,
valkyrie,
but he
will,” Hel rasped. “I
will
possess you, War. The powers of
my soldiers have grown, and I promise, we’ll ensure that you belong
to me.”

“We’ll see about that,” Henrik interjected.
“What did our source tell us, Brynn? Something along the lines of,
when a subterranean-based Nidavellir crystal is shattered, its
power returns to the earth and it becomes just another rock
.
Does that ring a bell?”

“It does,” I nodded. “It really does.”

“No!” Hel gasped.

“Yes.” Tyr took the crystal and threw it on
the ground. It shattered into tiny pieces, the red seeping out of
the shards as they slipped down the ravine in the center of the
room. Nidhogg let out a harrowing wail, clamoring to the edge of
the crevice as the crystal’s remains disappeared in the abyss.

Tyr wiped his hands. “I trust the super
soldiers will no longer be an issue. And I trust the dwarves will
be returned to Nidavellir within the hour. I’ll send an Elite Team
member to confirm their arrival, and if they aren’t back then I
will personally see to your punishment. Now I do believe my
companion asked about an exit?”

Hel rubbed her throat. “The only way out is
the way you came. When your Alfödr sentenced me to an eternity in
Nifhel, he disabled the use of portals.”

“Disabled portals? But you’ve got a link to
Muspelheim. It’s how you’re accessing the super soldiers… isn’t
it?” I asked.

“Yes. But that portal exists in the
outlands—in Niflheim. Inside the inner eight levels of Helheim,
there are no shortcuts. Odin designed it that way.” Hel’s disgust
was tempered with another emotion. Fear? Could it be that she was
afraid of Odin? I filed that nugget away for future use.

“Fair enough. We’ve got a sample to collect
in the outlands anyway,
ja
?” Henrik met my eye with a
wink.

To be honest, I’d totally forgotten, what
with the burning bindings and kidnapping rescue and near death by
dragon and all. But the prospect of experimenting on the irid
crystals with Henrik gave my brain a buzz, and before I knew it, I
brimmed with excitement.

“Yes. Yes, we do. Okay. Let’s get out of
here. Wait.” I turned to Hel and let my gaze pierce her evil soul.
The minute I saw her empty eyes, the hollowness of her life filled
me with sadness. She would never know the love we fought to
protect. She was too filled with hatred and bitterness, too locked
into the wounds of her past to appreciate the hopes of the future.
My threat fell mute on my lips. Nothing I could say would make her
life any more torturous than it already was. Her darkness kept her
trapped in her own personal Helheim.

I tightened my grip on Freya and marched her
to Tyr. “She’s too weak to walk the whole way on her own. You fly
her to the outlands. Henrik and I will free the dragons and meet
you there.”

Tyr nodded. He lifted Freya in his arms and
pressed his forehead to hers. “Don’t scare me again, okay, battle
axe? I’m not sure the black parts of my heart can hold out next
time.”

Freya smiled thinly as she wrapped her arms
around Tyr’s neck and spoke in a weak voice. “If they haven’t
turned you yet, halfling, I doubt there’s anything that can. Take
me home. There’s some
business
I need to talk to Brynn
about.”

What?
Had Brynhild somehow gotten to
her? I shot a panicked look at Henrik but he just gave a sanguine
smile. His refusal to be a stress case like me was infuriating.

“Deal. Henrik, Brynn, finish out our business
here and meet us in the Niflheim forest. We’ll catch the Bifrost
from there.” Tyr rose from the ground, carrying Freya as he flew
through the entry of Hel’s sanctuary, en route to the outlands.

“We’re on it.” Henrik crossed to my side and
gripped my hand. My pulse skyrocketed as he took off running,
pulling me with him. We raced through the levels of Helheim, fully
expecting Hel to go back on her word, but the
ikkedød
and
souls of the mortals let us pass, so that we reached the door to
the cavern room in a quarter of the time it had taken us to
descend. I put my hand on the door to open it, but Henrik pulled me
back.

I turned, the question in my eyes, and Henrik
tapped his ear.
Oh, right
. I forgot we’d be paralyzed by the
sound wave the minute we opened the door.

“I’ll call Tyr; he can send the muffling
spell through the phone. But before I do, there’s something I need
you to know.” Henrik cupped my face in his hands, and rested his
forehead against mine. My breathing became very shallow.

“Yes?” I squeaked.

“What you did back there,” he began, “I felt
it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I
lied.

“Yes, you do.” Henrik’s lips turned up in a
smile. Gods, they were beautiful lips. Perfect lips. Pale pink,
with just a touch of fullness. They were really soft too, if my
mortifying memory served correctly. But also hard when he wanted
them to be. And probably demanding. And—
stop it Brynn!

“Nope. Don’t.” I clamped my mouth shut.

“Well, before we go back up there and deal
with whatever Freya’s going to dish out, I just need you to know.”
Henrik rubbed his thumb across my cheek. My knees turned to the
consistency of Jell-O.

“Hmm?” I whimpered.
Immortal battle
goddess and you whimper? Seriously, get it together, Brynn
.

“I need you to know that I feel the same
way.”

Back the Bifrost up. Henrik felt the same
way? My heart soared right out of my chest, through the pit of
Helheim, and so high into the cosmos Heimdall probably mistook it
for a shooting star. Henrik. Andersson. Was. Into. Me?!

“Ohmygod, you do?” I squeaked. Did I have to
squeak right now? And giggle? Oh, oh, this was the greatest moment
ever. Like my birthday and Saint Lucia’s all rolled into one.
Brynn, stop giggling!

“Of course I do.” Henrik rubbed the back of
his finger against my cheek, and I giggled again.
Seriously,
stop it!
“I have since the night I took you to your Fall
Ball.”

I toed the ground with my boot. “Seriously.
No joke. You’re actually into me?”

“How could I not be?” Henrik brushed my chin
with one finger. “You live a no-holds-barred life,
sötnos
.
Always have. It’s sexy as Helheim, when you’re not on a course to
self-destruct the very thing I’ve been working toward for the past
century.”

Henrik’s hand moved down my cheek. He ran the
pad of his thumb over my lips, which had formed a small
O
.
He used his finger to lift my chin, closing my mouth and forcing me
to meet his eyes.

“I—” I stammered.

“Don’t look surprised. You’ve always been it
for me. And we can talk all about it over my
delicious
Swedish pancakes when we get home. But right now, we’ve got some
business to take care of,
ja
?” He nodded at the door.

Well, sure. Right. The deal with the dragon
king needed to be honored. And the Goddess of Love needed to be
returned to a friendly realm before the cosmos fell to total chaos.
But couldn’t we have this teensy epic moment for just a few more
minutes? Maybe a real kiss? Like, one where Henrik
kissed me
back
?

Henrik chuckled. “Not yet,
sötnos
.
First I’m calling in the spell.”

My cheeks flamed. “How did you…”

“You’re picking up Mia’s lousy poker face.”
He touched my cheek again. “You haven’t broken your oath yet, and I
don’t intend to make you ineligible when Freya promotes you. I’ve
got a horse in this race.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket
and dialed. When Tyr picked up, Henrik said two words. “Muffling
spell.” Then he nodded and turned to me with a grin.
Shall
we?
he mouthed.

Yes.
I turned and reached for the
handle of the door.

Henrik wrapped his fingers around my upper
arm and spun me around. I looked at him quizzically. The faster we
got out of here, the better for all of us, right? But he put a
finger to his lips, and tilted his head. Then he mouthed the three
words I’d been waiting an eternity for.

I love you.

My grin stretched so wide, it hurt my cheeks.
Henrik Andersson, unquestionably the most outstanding specimen to
come out of Asgard since, well, since
ever
, loved me.
Me!
Gods, this was amazing. Phenomenal. Beyond a doubt the
greatest moment in the history of—wait, where was he going?

Henrik wrenched the door open and stepped to
the other side. He turned and motioned for me to follow, and I did,
skipping giddily after him toward the maze of frozen dragons. When
we reached the other side of the bridge, Henrik bent and picked up
the sound box. He held out his hand, and I gleefully laced my
fingers through his, doing a mental fist bump at the way our hands
fit perfectly together. Then I followed him to the area directly
beneath the drop spot. He stopped and sent a text to Tyr, and the
next moment a beam shot down into the cavern. It wasn’t the
Bifrost—if Hel’s explanation was true, we wouldn’t be able to port
out until we’d reached the outlands of Helheim—the region we called
Niflheim. Instead, the beam was one of the innumerable magic tools
in Tyr’s metaphorical pocket. A sort of Asgardian chairlift.