Redeemer (Night War Saga Book 3) Page 11

  THE FIRST THING TO bring me back to consciousness was a smell, not a sound. Something mouthwatering was wafting up from the kitchen, and my salivating tongue would not let me sleep any longer. Peeling my eyes open, I ran my hand along the empty space beside me and frowned. Where was Tore? When I sat up, I noticed the little note atop the pillow.

  Woke up early to go for a run.

  P.S. You should wear those tiny shorts more often.

  -T

  I grinned. My sleep attire had not gone unnoticed. More importantly, my playful Tore was back. Leaping out of bed, I brushed my teeth and threw my hair into a top knot, exchanging tiny shorts for yoga pants. I would meditate with Mack first, and shower later.

  My journey from bedroom to kitchen was guided by a heavenly aroma. Whatever Mack was cooking, he’d clearly outdone himself. Bless. I skipped gleefully down the stairs, pausing in confusion at the sight of the downstairs mirror covered by a sheet. Had somebody broken it during the night?

  Greta glided into the living room, no hint of a limp in her graceful gait. I’d succeeded in healing my friend. Yes!

  “What’s up with that?” I jutted my chin at the mirror. “Also, you look great.”

  “Takk.” Greta nodded. “We observe a death by covering mirrors.”

  “Oh. Right.” My joyful mood promptly evaporated. The God of Revenge was dead. Tore had lost his father. Suddenly, my little leg healing didn’t seem like such a happy event.

  “Also . . .” Greta inhaled deeply, “. . . we eat multi-course meals to honor the passage of life. Come on. Mack’s been in the kitchen for hours.”

  Of course he had. Because cooking was Mack’s way of showing his love. And who was I to deny my god-brother his emotional expression?

  “Well.” I followed Greta across the living room. “It seems Vidar accomplished in death what no one could in life.”

  “What’s that?” Greta’s lips pursed in curiosity.

  “Multi-course meals mean variety.” I shrugged. “Vidar loosened Mack’s grip on the chicken diet.”

  Greta burst into laughter, and I chuckled along with her. But when the front door opened and Tore stepped through, I schooled my expression into one of careful neutrality. I didn’t know how he was dealing with his loss in the moment. Thankfully, his ear-to-ear grin suggested he retained some of the playfulness he’d expressed in his note. Whew.

  “How was your run?” I hedged.

  “Excellent.” Tore bent down to kiss my cheek. Then he glanced at the kitchen and lowered his voice. “My mom was already cooking when I left. We talked for a minute, and she told me she most definitely knew me from before; she had a dream that confirmed the feeling she had last night, but she couldn’t remember the details. Hey, it’s progress, right?”

  “Sure is.” Tears pricked at the backs of my eyelids.

  “That’s wonderful news, Tore,” Greta whispered.

  “Ja.” Tore kissed me again, his warm lips pressing against mine and setting a flock of butterflies loose in my stomach. When he pulled back, I stumbled forward in an effort to prolong the kiss. Dang it. “I’m going to take shower,” he said. “Just a heads up—the Alfödr will swing by tonight to pay his respects after the funeral.”

  The what? I eyed my yoga pants and bare feet, mentally calculating my prep time. “When’s the funeral? Do we need to leave soon or do we have time to eat first?”

  “Oh.” Tore’s features hardened.

  Oh?

  “I forgive Vidar for hurting my mom, but I’m not going to his funeral. None of us are.”

  “Okay.” There wasn’t much else to say. I looked to Greta for support, but she was performing a decidedly thorough inspection of either the hardwood floor, or her feet. “Got it.”

  Tore studied me. “Vidar’s mistresses will be at the service, mourning a man they only had an uncloseted relationship with because of my mother’s fake death. I can’t be around that right now. I want to remember him the way he was at the end.”

  Dang it, Vidar. Why couldn’t you have just kept it in your pants?

  I reached out to touch Tore’s bicep. “I understand. Go. Shower. I’ll try not to eat all the bacon while you’re gone.”

  Tore gave a wry grin before jogging up the stairs. I waited until he disappeared before turning to Greta with a shrug. “It just doesn’t slow down around here, does it?”

  “Nope. Never.”

  “Are you going to hang out in the living room all morning, or do you want some of this breakfast?” Bodie’s voice carried from the kitchen.

  “We want the breakfast,” I called back, following Greta to the kitchen with a smile.

  My smile widened infinitely the minute I saw Mack’s morning masterpiece.

  Nice.

  Every one of the stove’s burners was fired up, and held a simmering pot. The scent of meat wafted in the air, and a sea of pastries lined the counter. Ophelia and Lela flitted among the dishes, sprinkling seasonings among them, while Bodie and Johann set utensils and plates atop the table.

  “Morning, Allie,” Johann said. I held my hand up in greeting while Ophelia spun around.

  “Oh, good morning.” She stepped away from the counter, wiping her hands on her ruffled apron before offering me a sad smile. “I’m so sorry to hear about your friend’s father,” she said. “I’m sure he was a lovely man.”

  Uh, no he wasn’t. Not to you, anyway. But I kept the thought to myself and croaked out a weak, “Thanks.”

  Ophelia returned to her cooking, and Mack turned away from the stove to frown at me. “I set Scarlet up in the field behind the complex last night—just a temporary housing arrangement until we can create space in the barn for her. But you really need to teach her some manners, Allie. She chuffed outside my window from three to four this morning. She refused to go back to her area when I waved her away.”

  “Sorry,” I apologized. “Is it okay if she stays here? We don’t have to send her back to stay with Milkir?”

  “It’s fine with me so long as she stays within the domed part of Trondheim.” Mack shrugged. “Humans won’t be able to see her. But she does need to understand appropriate sleep times.”

  “I’ll teach her,” I promised. “I swear.”

  “You better.” Mack raised one bushy eyebrow before carrying a platter to the table. Lela and Ophelia followed, and Greta and I each picked up two of the overflowing serving plates. When the food was artfully arranged along the kitchen table and a damp-haired Tore had joined us, Lela rang a small silver bell to announce that breakfast was served.

  “Enjoy.” Mack held out his hands. Everyone except for Ophelia eagerly settled into chairs. So much awesome awaited us.

  “Ophelia.” Tore frowned as his mother hovered at the counter. “Please join us.”

  “You’re mourning. I don’t want to intrude,” she demurred.

  “We insist,” I pressed.

  Ophelia took a seat between Johann and Bodie. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  God, I hope she remembers her old life soon.

  We talked as we ate, though not about Vidar. Instead, my protectors shared anecdotes from their years together as warriors, while Greta and Lela told lighthearted stories about their varied inter-realm travels. It wasn’t until we’d each finished two servings—three for Bodie—of Mack’s amazing feast that Vidar’s name came up at all. Lela rose to her feet to close the meal with an Asgardian funeral song, filling the kitchen with her soothing energy. As she sat, Tore cleared his voice and raised his glass.

  “That was beautiful,” he said. “And to be honest, probably more than my father deserved.”

  Ophelia sucked in a sharp breath, but Tore continued.

  “It’s no secret that I didn’t have a great relationship with Vidar in life. But he surprised me in the end, and I’ll choose to remember that final act of courage as the embodiment of my father’s potential. If he’d chosen to, he could have been one Hel of a god.” Tore nodded at his drink. “Skål,” he offered by way of toas
ting.

  “Skål,” we chimed in.

  Ophelia winced, lowering her glass to press her hands to her temples.

  “Do you have another headache?” I asked quietly.

  “Oh, just a little one,” she demurred. “Carry on, I’m fine.”

  Tore raised an eyebrow at me. “You know Mo—Ophelia,” he stammered. “Allie and Greta are very accomplished healers. If you have time, I’m sure they’d love the opportunity to help you with your head pains today.”

  His eyes lit with hope, like a small child asking for a treat. It became my deepest desire that Ophelia take him up on his offer.

  “Well . . .” She paused. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  “It would be our pleasure. I think it will help you,” I said, knowing from experience that the Liv would cut itself off when Ophelia had had enough. “Besides, I’m still learning and I could use the training. You’d actually be doing me a favor.”

  Ophelia’s laughter filled the kitchen, and Tore’s overwhelming joy pressed in on me from all sides. “Well, in that case, I accept,” she said.

  “Good.” I nodded at Greta. “How about now?”

  Greta beamed at me. “There’s nothing I’d rather do.”

  I knew she meant it. Tore may have lost his father, but my friend and I would do everything within our power to bring his mother back to him.

  Even if we had no idea how we were going to do it.

  ***

  “Your home is lovely,” Greta offered as Ophelia ushered us into her cottage. The tiny space boasted a kitchen and a sitting room, along with a narrow hallway that led to what I imagined were the bedroom and bathroom. It held little by way of possessions, but it exuded love and warmth and peace. Ophelia flittered around her space, picking up an errant sweater and folding it into a neat square.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Would you care for some tea? I can put on a kettle.”

  “We’re fine,” I assured her. “We’re here to help you. Is this the same kind of headache you had last night?”

  “Yes,” Ophelia confirmed. “A bit less intense, but uncomfortable all the same.”

  “Please, lie down.” Greta nodded at the couch. “How often do the pains come?”

  Ophelia lowered herself onto the sofa, and Greta and I took seats in the chairs across from it. “Two or three times a day since, well, for as long as I can remember,” Ophelia answered. Cold air chilled my teeth with my sharp inhale. Suddenly, I wasn’t so sorry about Vidar’s death. This poor woman had been living in constant pain for years. When Revenge had wiped her memories, he probably hadn’t considered the side effects the removal would have. And if he had, well, then he was an even bigger jerk than I’d let myself believe. May he rest in peace.

  “We’ll try the singing bowl today,” Greta offered. What? We have a bowl that sings? My friend retrieved a frosted glass bowl and a wooden mallet from her bag, and set them on the coffee table. “But tell me, have you tried Midgardian painkillers?”

  “They don’t work for me.” Ophelia sighed. “The only thing that helps is rubbing my temples, and even that only slows the pain for a little bit.”

  Greta and I exchanged a look. Of course Ophelia’s touch eased her pain. She had healing abilities she didn’t know about—and probably couldn’t remember how to use—but thankfully hadn’t disengaged from. I hoped there was more hidden within her mind that we could unlock.

  “Okay.” Greta nodded at me. “We’re going to start the healing now if it’s all right with you, Ophelia.”

  “Of course.” Ophelia closed her eyes, and folded her hands atop her stomach.

  “Allie,” Greta instructed. “Call up the Liv. I’ll channel it through the bowl, and access her energy on a cellular level.”

  “Already there.” At the mention of its name, the Liv flared to life in my chest. It sped down my arms and flooded my palms, forming a massive blue ball of energetic healing. It wanted to heal Ophelia just as much as I did, which must have meant she’d integrated last night’s healing enough to be ready for a major dose. Okay then. Let’s make magic happen.

  As I pulsed the Liv between my hands, Greta tapped the glass bowl with the mallet. A low tone resonated through the air, and I opened my other sight to see Ophelia’s energy vibrating along with the sound.

  So cool.

  “Allie,” Greta whispered. She pointed toward Ophelia’s head.

  Right.

  I moved to stand at the end of the couch, and placed my Liv-saturated hands along Ophelia’s temples. She sighed peacefully at the touch. Oh, thank God. I hadn’t broken Tore’s mom. Greta tapped the bowl again, swirling the mallet so a lower-toned resonance filled the space. The sound’s vibrations nudged the Liv, and the two began to work in harmony. The broken bridge within Ophelia’s head came into view, and glowing blue bricks floated into place along its broken edge. They built, one beside the other, shortening the distance between the two sides. But as the bowl’s resonance changed again, the Liv flickered and died in my chest. When I called it back up, the bridge was gone. Ophelia’s energy had closed off; she’d taken as much as she could, and her body needed rest.

  I met Greta’s gaze and shook my head. My friend smiled in patient understanding.

  “Okay, Ophelia.” She set the bowl back on the table. “We’re all done for today. But we would love to come back tomorrow and do this again, if it suits you?”

  Ophelia opened her eyes, propping herself up on one elbow to study Greta.

  “I know you,” she said in confusion. “From before, I mean. Don’t I?”

  Oh my God, she remembers something else! It’s working! A small squeak escaped my lips before I bit back the sound. Oops.

  Greta beamed at me before shifting her gaze to Ophelia. “You do know me, yes. I don’t want to overwhelm you by filling in gaps in your memory for you, but that recognition demonstrates huge progress. You’re doing brilliantly.”

  Ophelia nodded. She rose from the couch to walk confidently down the hallway. “Wait here, please. Allie, I have something for you.”

  I shared a curious look with Greta. “Okay.”

  Ophelia returned a minute later, an elegant pearl necklace draped across her delicate fingers. “It’s the only thing of value I own.” She held the piece out with a motherly smile. “I know you came to Trondheim without many belongings, and it’s not my place to ask why that is. But I suspect that whatever brought you here to us may also have left you without pieces from your former home. I want you to wear my necklace when you meet with the Alfödr tonight. I imagine many gods of consequence will join him, and from what little I can remember, that circle was an intimidating one. I hope this necklace reminds you that to me, your value is immeasurable.”

  My throat constricted as tears welled in my eyes. It was a genuine, selfless gift. The fact that Tore’s mom was willing to loan me her most precious possession meant everything to me.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. “This is an incredibly loving act.”

  Ophelia pulled me into a light hug. “You are an incredibly loving soul,” she said simply. My heart swelled, and it took everything I had to not bawl all over the poor woman. Her recovery was so new, so fragile, I didn’t want to frighten her.

  But as Greta and I waved goodbye, and Ophelia closed the door of her cottage, I couldn’t stop myself from confessing my fears to Greta.

  “It’s like I keep hitting a wall,” I admitted. “The Liv lays a few bricks along this broken bridge, and if I can just get to the other side I swear her memories will come rushing back. But something keeps stopping me—I don’t know if I’m going to be able to heal her.”

  “You will,” Greta assured me. “We will. Together.”

  But her eyes narrowed in concern. For all intents and purposes, I was the acting Goddess of Healing. I’d been endowed with the Liv in my mom’s place, and that energy was meant to be the most powerful healing aid in all the realms. So why hadn’t I been able to heal Tore’s mom today?

&n
bsp; And how was I going to live with myself if I never could?

  ***

  That night, I found myself in Tore’s room, helping him prepare for the Asgardian onslaught. I’d pressed him for more details over lunch and it turned out that Ophelia had been right. Several of the upper-level gods would be joining the Alfödr in paying their respects to Revenge’s heir. I wasn’t entirely clear on why select members of the Norse pantheon had to descend on our little safe house, but the reality was that they were coming.

  In, like, ten minutes.

  “You sure you’re up to this?” I straightened the knot on Tore’s tie before smoothing it with my palm. The silky fabric contrasted with the hard planes of his chest, and I took an extra moment to fake-adjust its alignment because, Tore’s chest. “Say the word and I’ll break you out of here. Scarlet can fly us somewhere quiet, and we’ll let Mack deal with the guests. I’m sure everyone would understand if you needed to take a pass tonight.”

  “I’m okay. Honest.” Tore shrugged into his vest, and fastened the buttons. He ran his fingers through his long hair before smoothing the front of his clothes with those massive hands. Holy hotness. The juxtaposition of his business-casual ensemble and Viking warrior body made him insane levels of sexy. I crossed all of my fingers, hoping he’d show up in my room later on. I’d have crossed my toes, too, but they were pinched tight in the black heels that matched my knee-length lace dress. Hopefully, the second time I wore a dress for Tore, it would be a sunnier occasion. Bora Bora.

  “If you’re sure.” I stopped ogling my boyfriend long enough to focus on the jewelry I’d set atop Tore’s dresser. After fastening a silver clip into my low bun, I picked up Ophelia’s pearl choker. The clasp was trickier than I’d anticipated, so I raised the necklace to Tore. “A little help?”

  “Sure.” He took the pearls in his hands, and draped them around my neck. I spun in his arms so he could fasten the clasp, but my movement must have jarred him. With a clatter, the pearls landed on the hardwood floor.

  Seriously, Allie? Your boyfriend’s mom loans you her most precious possession, and you let it fall on the floor? Come on.