Vindicated by Bella Klaus
Chapter Twenty-Three
Every muscle in my body stiffened in the grip of the Norse shaman. My wolf rose to the surface and tried to claw her way out.
Before I could even reach for my gun, Fenrir whirled around, snatched Grog by the throat, and squeezed. The Norse shaman released his hold on my body, and I stepped to one side, my skin twitching with revulsion from his touch.
Wind rustled through the trees surrounding us, mingling with the rasps of Grog struggling for air. London smog washed over us but did nothing to hide the foul scent of his body odor.
“Was that the demon?” Thor asked.
“No,” I snarled. “Just a nuisance who’s coming with us to Hell.”
Fenrir turned to me and snarled. “Why?”
“Since each time we kill him, he returns to life, we may as well dump him somewhere he can’t escape.”
He grunted. “Let the demons deal with this bastard.”
“Wait,” Grog rasped. “I have information.”
“Unlikely.” I turned to Thor. “Could you smash him over the head with that hammer? I’d like him unconscious for the journey.”
The other Norse god handed the faerie his platter, and held the hammer by its handle. “Are you sure this won’t kill him?”
“Decapitation didn’t work. Neither did trampling his disembodied skull underfoot.” Fenrir held out his arm and dangled Grog by the neck.
Grog’s eyes bulged, and his mouth opened as wide as it could go, revealing broken teeth and a blue tongue. He scratched at Fenrir’s fist with his filthy hands and cycled his legs through the air.
I glanced around the empty park and beyond its wooded area. At this time of the morning, there was no trace of the usual humans who jogged through the public space. Nor were there indications of any of the people who sometimes loitered around this area looking for signs of supernatural activity.
“Hurry up,” I said. “The demons could be anywhere.”
Thor struck Grog’s head with his hammer, making the shaman’s body fall limp. Blood streamed from his nostrils. In the dim light, it looked black, but who knew what that meant for a being who had been brought to life by something as dark and evil as Marchosias?
A flare of fire ignited an oak tree thirty feet away, filling the air with the scent of brimstone.
“They’re here,” I whispered.
Fenrir tossed Grog’s corpse at the hooded faerie, who dropped Thor’s tray of chicken and sausages to the grass.
“Shit,” the faerie hissed as he wrapped his arms around the unconscious shaman. “Next time, give a guy a bit of warning.”
“Silence,” Fenrir growled.
The faerie’s jaws clicked shut, but his eyes widened.
“Bloody hell,” I said into the bond.
Fenrir turned to me and frowned. “What’s wrong??”
“You just commanded that faerie.”
“Are you sure?”His frown deepened.
The fire expanded into a portal that opened into a three-foot-wide circle that hollowed to reveal a marble hallway decorated with tall statues. I tilted my head to the side and squinted.
“I expected to see darkness or flames,” I said to Fenrir through the bond.
“Whoever opened this up did so from my sister’s palace,”he replied.
The first of the demons stepped through, a red-skinned male with tall horns, covered in scales that gleamed in the twilight. He straightened to his full seven feet, broadened his shoulders, and stepped aside to make way for another of his kind.
“What’s the plan?” Thor whispered.
“May I suggest something?” I asked. Before anyone got a chance to reply I turned to Fenrir. “When the demons come, try controlling them with a command.”
He stared down at me. “They are not shapeshifters.”
“Yes, they are,” I said.
Three sets of eyes turned to me.
My gaze darted to the portal, where four of them now exited and stood on either side of the fiery rift. The bloody cowards were probably waiting to outnumber us before approaching. “They can fly, yet where are their wings?”
The three other men glanced across the trees at the demons.
“Your point?” Fenrir asked.
“They’re either wearing armor or have scaly skin, but there’s nowhere to hide great big appendages that help them fly. Anyone who can retract their wings into their body has to be a shapeshifter.”
His gaze slid back to the portal where all eight of the usual demons who accompanied Queen Hel everywhere now emerged. They stood shoulder to shoulder, a wall of muscle that eclipsed Thor and Fenrir by at least six inches in height.
My lips thinned. They weren’t impressive. Size didn’t matter in a clash against gods, especially when they were thugs only capable of attacking a man when he was outnumbered. Besides, they were probably just Queen Hel’s personal harem.
“Fenrir,” said a demon in the middle with antelope horns that caught on the trees’ lower branches. “You were supposed to come alone.”
“Her Majesty will punish you for your insolence,” said the demon at his side.
Fenrir raised his chin and growled.
“Do it,”I whispered into the bond.
“Kneel,” he said with a burst of power that stretched across this side of the park.
My legs wobbled, but I clenched my teeth and remained standing.
All eight of the demons dropped down to their knees, as did the faerie, who placed Grog’s unmoving body on the vegetation.
“What is the meaning of this?” Antelope Horns snarled.
“Ha,”I said into the bond. “What did I tell you?”
The corners of Fenrir’s lips curled into a smile. “Not all demons are shapeshifters.”
“No, but you can set the ones you can command against those who want to fight for your sister.”
He hugged me to his side. “Thank you.”
“We haven’t won yet.”
“Two thousand years of unused power means nothing in the light of your unwavering faith.”
I sucked in a breath, my chest filling with the warmth and comfort of Fenrir’s love. It was crazy—we were about to embark on the biggest battle of our lives, yet all I could think about were his words.
“Come on,” said Thor. “We’ve got demons to conquer, two-faced wenches to kill, and the little girl I befriended wants to bake me a cake in the shape of my hammer.”
A laugh bubbled up in my chest. Typical Phina. I hoped Thor would stay around after we won.
“What are we going to do about them?” I asked.
Fenrir leveled the demons with a glower. “Rise,” he said with a burst of alpha power. “Lead us to the hostages first and then to your queen.”
I turned to the faerie, who had left Grog lying face-down in the tall grass. “Bring him with us.”
He huffed a breath. “Mrs. Gerrison didn’t mention anything about hefting baggage.”
The demons led the way back through the trees, through the portal, and through a hallway of white marble walls that stretched up to an ornate plaster ceiling decorated with images of flying women wearing armor that gave little more coverage than Le Scandale lingerie.
“Are those valkyries?”I asked into our bond.
“Yes,” Fenrir replied. “Focus. Not everyone we encounter in the palace will be susceptible to my commands.”
“Of course.”Gulping, I lowered my gaze down to eye level and glanced around the windowless hallway.
We passed six-foot-tall statues of valkyries, their wings outstretched, each holding weapons that looked sharp enough to cut. They seemed to be made of glass instead of stone, or perhaps crystal.
I stared straight ahead, through the gaps between the demons under Fenrir’s control, to find us approaching a set of twenty-foot-tall double doors covered in bleached bones. Skulls hung among rib cages and pelvises and longer bones, creating a geometric design that probably meant something to a denizen of Hell.
My stomach tightened. I couldn’t wait to leave this shit hole.
“Are you all right?”Fenrir squeezed my hand.
“Fine.” I squeezed back. “I wasn’t expecting something so gruesome.”
“Be prepared to see worse,”he muttered. “My sister is the type of person who could pull out a person’s entrails to see how they would react.”
I shuddered. “Whatever happens, we’re going to put them down.”
A pair of guards in metallic armor stepped out from the shadows and stood before the double doors with their halberds crossed.
“Her Majesty is only expecting one,” their voices echoed.
I nudged Fenrir in the side.
He shook his head. “Those are her watcher wraiths, who have no form.” Out loud, he said, “Knock them aside.”
The demons rushed at the suits of armor and tore them apart. Pieces of metal flew across the hallway, landing in a cacophony of clangs. Antelope Horns and a colleague with the curled horns of a bull picked up the wraith’s weapons.
“So far, so good,” I said.
Fenrir didn’t reply. He didn’t have to because anything could be behind that door, including the massive crowd of demons Hel had gathered in her throne room.
“Open it,” he commanded.
Antelope Horns shoved open the door, letting in a burst of dry, brimstone-scented heat. Fiery light shone from between the taller demons.
I craned my neck to see what was inside and almost wished I hadn’t. It was the same throne room as in the video chat, only infinitely more terrifying in real life. Gigantic skulls hung high on ornate metal walls that curled up to form an arch.
Each skeletal head spewed streams of fire onto demons constrained to the edges of the chamber by chains. Their low moans mingled with the general chatter. It was as though the poor souls had been tortured so long that they’d learned the futility of screams.
“Shit,” said Thor. “This is barbarism.”
A thousand demons crowded before us, their gazes fixed on the tall dais that led to a throne topped by a horned skull that had to be at least fifteen feet wide.
Intricate knots wove through my stomach, and all the moisture in my mouth evaporated with the intensity of the heat. I clutched Fenrir’s arm. “Even if a quarter of them are shapeshifters, that’s still a lot of people fighting on our behalf.”
“Maybe.” Fenrir stared ahead, his jaw clenched. “Where are the hostages?”
The demon standing closest to us turned around, his features twisted in a rictus of hatred. I raised my chin and stared at him with my eyes narrowed. Mere weeks ago, he and his friends had been part of an entourage that had invaded Fenrir’s shack and left his body and face badly bruised.
Thanks to Phina’s quick thinking, she was able to gather healing herbs for Fenrir and burn them as an offering. Now, it was Fenrir who had control.
“Her Majesty placed them in a small chamber behind her throne.”
“Take us to them,” Fenrir said with a bite of magic.
“Yes, Alpha.” The demon’s voice shook with fury.
“Make way for Her Majesty’s ransom,” Antler Horns bellowed at the front.
The crowd of demons parted like the Red Sea, and a black carpet appeared beneath our feet, stretching about three hundred feet across the throne room to the dias.
Queen Hel’s entourage stepped aside to let us pass, and Fenrir, Thor, the faerie, and I crossed the threshold.
Demons crowded on either side of the black carpet, their faces pressed against what seemed to be an invisible barrier. They took all shapes and sizes, from twenty-foot-tall giants that belonged in fairytales, to winged imps the size of my hands. Some were monstrous creatures with faces full of eyes, had canine-filled mouths that stretched from one ear to another, or were covered in scales or fur or open sores.
My skin tightened, and every organ within my abdominal cavity trembled, but I held my features in a calm facade and kept my gaze straight ahead.
“This is nothing like the dump she once presided over,” Thor muttered from behind us.
“An imitation of Dante’s inferno,” the faerie said, the haughtiness in his voice rising several octaves.
I threaded my fingers between Fenrir’s and asked into the bond, “Have you been here before?”
“Sometimes, when she thought I wasn’t showing her the proper respect, she brought me here for public whippings,”he snarled.
“Stupid bitch.” I ground my teeth. “I’ll tear off her face.”
One corner of his lips lifted into a smile. “I look forward to seeing you defeat her.”
The walk to the dais seemed endless, but it was probably only a minute. As soon as we ascended the stairs, Queen Hel teleported in front of her throne.
She wore a gold halter-neck dress that shimmered like silk over her uneven body. With her hands on her hips, she slinked to the edge of the dais. “Well, well, well,” she rasped like a cartoon villain. “I see you’ve brought that ragged corpse you seem addicted to animating.”
I bristled. My wolf clawed at the walls that separated us and snarled. I placed a hand over my brow and pretended to squint. “Is that Queen Hel?” I made myself sound bored. “It’s hard to tell the difference between the right side of your face and a decomposed corpse.”
Gasps echoed across the chamber, and the left side of her face tightened. She bared her teeth and hissed. “I was going to strike you dead in front of Fenrir for giggles. Now I’ll have him watch you suffer.”
“You can try.” I placed my hands on my hips.
“Lydia,”Fenrir growled from our bond.
“It’s just trash talk,”I said. “And she started it.”
“But she is also in possession of twelve innocent hostages.”
All the bluster drained from me in an instant, leaving behind a sense of cold dread. Fenrir was right. Even if I had a Norse god keeping me alive, the imprisoned villagers were completely at the mercy of a madwoman and her minions.
Queen Hel narrowed her good eye. “Is that Thor?”
“Yes,” the other god snarled from behind us.
“How in the name of Midgard did you escape your prison?” She placed a hand over her brow, mirroring my previous action. “Who’s the hooded figure at your side? Odin or Baldr? It doesn’t matter because you’ll all serve as my playthings.”
“How long are you going to punish everyone for your being born so hideous and without a shred of power?” Thor shouted.
Queen Hel reared back, her withered hand clutching at her chest.
Everyone in the throne room fell silent.
My brows rose. Why hadn’t she reacted so badly to my insult? I’d pretty much said the same thing. My gaze dropped from her face to the rubies glinting on her Hell ring.
“Fenrir, look at her middle finger,”I whispered into his head. “Do you remember what Phina told us?”
“About the source of her power?”he asked.
“We need to get that ring.”
He nodded. “By any means necessary.”
“How dare you?” Hel’s good eye bulged, but the milky one rolled in its socket like a loose marble.
Thor shouldered his way around Fenrir’s side and ascended the steps. “Tell the truth?” He spread his arms wide. “While the Norse gods were trying to save the Tree of Life, you skittered back to your realm like a rat, only to pick us off while we were dead or unconscious.”
“Leave us,” she hissed.
My lips parted, and part of me wondered if she was talking to us, but one by one, the demons around the dais teleported away. Excitement rippled through my insides, and my breaths became shallow.
“Why is she sending away thousands of fighters?” I asked Fenrir. “Is she really that stupid?”
A growl rumbled in his throat. “Each side of her brain is unstable in its own way, but she would never leave herself vulnerable.”
I glanced over my shoulder to the rapidly emptying throne room. The demons either unwilling or unable to teleport streamed out through the twenty-foot-tall double doors, leaving behind the poor bastards still chained to the walls.
“What’s wrong, Demon Queen?” Thor’s voice dripped with mockery. “Are you afraid your underlings will discover the truth about your lack of power?”
The good side of her face spread into a malicious smile. Since the flesh on the other side was permanently withered, it was always arranged in a perpetual grin. “No one else needs to get hurt.”
“What are you talking about?” Fenrir snarled.
She raised both arms, and the fires behind the throne flared. I was about to ask what she thought she was doing when something hissed. My insides tightened, and part of me expected to see the giant snake she had pinned to the ceiling of Loki’s cave.
Black mist streamed in from behind the throne, spreading a sense of cold that I felt deep within my bones. It formed the shape of twisting snakes, winding curls, and wispy swirls before a chunk of it separated to mold into the shape of a seven-foot-tall man.
The black figure stood beside Queen Hel and grinned.
“Lydia Gerrison,” echoed a booming voice. “Do you remember what I told you when we first met?”
My entire body seized with a shudder.
“What are you?” Thor threw his hammer, only for it to whizz through one end of the mist and then out again. He caught it with one hand and stared at its tarnished head with a frown. “What did you do?”
“What a delectable feast,” the deep voice said with a laugh. “I cannot wait to weaken the rest of you.”
“Lydia,”Fenrir said, his voice trembling. “Get out.”
I took one shaky step back, then another, only for a cold palm to land on my shoulder.
“Do not walk away from me,” the voice growled.
Queen Hel threw her head back and laughed. “Now, do you see why I needed my loyal minions to leave? No one will get hurt except you.”
I clenched my teeth hard enough to crack the enamel.
The wretched cow had not only released Marchosias.
They were working together.