Perfekt Balance (The Ære Saga Book 3) (6 page)

Either way, I was feeling pretty darned
optimistic.

“Any time.” Force’s eyes turned a deeper
green as an intensity consumed his gaze. It moved slowly from my
face down my torso, then came to an abrupt stop at the pale pink
mark on my forearm. His eyes narrowed as he ran a finger lightly
over the wound. “You cut yourself pretty badly with that dagger
last night. This one’s nearly healed over, but is anything else
hurting?”

“My muscles are a little sore,” I admitted.
“But I’m a lot more confident than I was yesterday. You gave me a
solid foundation to fight the dark elves, or trolls, or mountain
giants, or whatever questionably guided being we come across.”

“True, but remember, most fights are
avoidable. And I don’t want you engaging unless it’s absolutely
necessary. Self-defense is one thing, but the second you’re in a
position to get yourself to safety—”

“I know,” I interrupted. “You want me to run
away from conflict—not into it.”

“Exactly.”

I lay my cheek on Forse’s chest and let the
rise and fall of his breathing ebb my anxiety. I could have stayed
right there all day.

Unfortunately for me, Justice was swift this
morning.

“Much as I hate to move, I’m sure Tyr’s ready
to catch the Bifrost.” Forse gently lifted me off him, and guided
me to my feet as he rose. I stared wistfully at the couch,
committing the feel of our bodies nestled together to memory. The
way things went with us, it could be months before Forse dropped
his guard enough to let us get that close again. Why did boys have
to make everything so complicated?

“You can take the first shower,” I offered.
“I’ll whip up a batch of Henrik’s Swedish pancakes, and we can be
at my brother’s within an hour.”

Forse bent to kiss the top of my head. “You
sure you’re up to this?”

“I’m Asgard’s only Unifier,” I reminded him.
“Nobody can do this for me. If I stay behind, it increases the
likelihood one of you will get hurt. And I can’t let that
happen.”

“If you feel like any of this is too
much—”

I covered Forse’s lips with one finger. It
took everything I had to ignore the electricity that sparked
beneath my digit. “Get in the shower. I’ll try not to eat all the
pancakes before you come out.”

Forse stared at me for a long moment. I let
my hand fall as I pushed calm into the energy center trying to leap
from my chest. When my heart rate was respectable, I sent a wave of
peace at Forse. His fear dimmed considerably. I held his gaze as he
came to a decision.

“You’re honestly okay with all of this,” he
assessed.

“I have to get my feet wet sometime.” I
shrugged. “It might as well be today.”

Forse nodded. “I’ll be with you every step of
the way.”

“I know you will. Now get in the shower,
Justice.” I shoved him toward the bathroom. “I’ve got pancakes to
cook.”

Without looking back, I moved cheerfully
toward the kitchen and pulled out eggs, flour, sugar and milk,
whipping the ingredients together. It wasn’t until I heard the
sound of running water that I permitted myself one short burst of
nerves. I braced my palms on the counter, and dropped my chin to my
chest. Anxiety tore through me, spiking my heart rate and sending
prickles of sweat along my brow.

What the Hel have I gotten myself into?

“
I DON’T CARE HOW
immortal metabolisms work. I know you, Tyr Fredriksen, and
you’re going to get hungry. Just take the sandwiches already!” Mia
stood in the clearing in front of the Arcata cabin, one hand on her
hip, the other staunchly yielding a brown paper bag. Her chin was
raised in a characteristic display of stubbornness. If I wasn’t so
in-tune to energy, I’d have believed she was annoyed. But behind
Mia’s insistence was vulnerability. She worried for Tyr’s safety,
and she was frustrated at her inability to fix things. Making food
was her way of being a part of this mission.

“Thank you, Mia.” I gently removed the bag
from her hands. “Your sandwiches are always the best. And you’re
right, we’re going to be starving in a few hours, and Svartalfheim
isn’t the most hospitable realm. These will come in handy.”

Mia’s shoulders relaxed. “If you want, I can
go back and make a few extras. I only packed one batch of brownies,
but I could whip up another in forty minutes.”

Tyr
grabbed her arm as she backed toward the house, his black T-shirt
pulling taut at the movement. “
Prinsessa
,” he rumbled. “We’ll be back before you
know it. Have I ever lied to you?”

Mia
stared up at him. “‘
Mia, I’m an exchange student from
Sweden, not an immortal war god with a whole heap of monsters
trying to kill me.’
Sound
familiar?”

“You’ll never let that go, will you?”

“Nope.”

Tyr used
the pad of his thumb to free Mia’s bottom lip from between her
teeth. “Listen, baby, when we get home, we’re going to be
really
hungry. I’ll bet
your famous pot roast would make a lot of gods happy. What do you
say?”

Mia’s eyes lit up. “I say get ready to be
amazed. I’ve got a new marinade that’s going to knock your socks
off.”

“That’s my girl.” Tyr wrapped one arm around
her waist and pulled her into him. She closed her eyes as he lifted
her so her face was level with his, then gave her a kiss that left
more than just the mortal blushing.

“Enough already,” Henrik groaned. “You’re
showing the rest of us up.”

“Speak for yourself.” Brynn threw her arms
around Henrik’s neck and planted an enthusiastic kiss square on his
mouth. He groaned in approval, then dipped her low, resting one
hand on the back of her black tank top, and wrapping the other
around her blond waves.

I raised an eyebrow at Forse. “It looks like
it’s just you and me.”

Forse didn’t crack a smile.

I sighed. Everything had been so easy back on
the couch, but that might as well have been a century ago. Now,
Forse’s shoulders were drawn against his black V-neck shirt, and
his voice cracked with stress. “Let’s just get this job over
with.”

My fingers grazed Forse’s thick biceps as I
pushed confident energy at him. “We’ve got this.”

“
Maybe.”
Forse’s eyes narrowed. He was
so
not receptive to the optimism I sent his way.
“This whole mission feels like a trap.”

I pushed out a more forceful wave of
confidence. “If it is, we’ve got a strong team to thwart it.”

Forse’s brow didn’t smooth one bit, but he
did give a slight nod. And when Tyr set Mia on her feet and grabbed
the brown paper bag from my hands, Forse took my hand and pulled me
after him.

“Henrik, enough already. You’ll see Brynn in
a few hours; a day, tops,” Tyr barked.

Henrik reluctantly released our valkyrie, and
Brynn skipped to Tyr’s side. “Miss you,” she said breathily.

“
Take
care,
sötnos
.
Tell the dark elves we said
hei
.” Henrik grinned.

“Henrik, give us the breakdown on the tech
you’re sending with us,” Tyr ordered.

“Brynn’s got the brighteners, the extractors,
and Elsa’s emergency healing kit in her backpack,” Henrik
responded.

“Oh, give me the healing kit. There’s one
more thing I need to add.” I held out my hand and Henrik passed
over the bag. While he and Forse spoke quietly about another piece
of technology they were working on, I removed my new necklace. I
couldn’t risk losing something so precious on the wild ride that
was the Bifrost, but I couldn’t bear to leave it behind, either.
With a breath, I held the larimar in my hand, infusing it with
extra love and healing before placing the crystal in the emergency
bag, where it could energize the other stones. It might have been
overkill, but we needed all the help we could get.

When I’d tucked the necklace into the healing
kit, Henrik held out his hand and waggled his fingers. I handed
over the backpack.

“
Takk
. So our newest piece of tech is something Forse and I have
been developing off one of Mia’s sketches.” Henrik pulled a
palm-sized tablet out of the bag, then handed it to Forse. “Keep
this on you. It’s the modified locator.”

“Were you able to decrease the track time and
up the search radius like we talked about?” Forse asked.

Henrik
shook his head. “I’m sorry,
kille
. I gave it my best, but I haven’t been able to
conform the
älva
dust to the specs we wanted. I’ve adjusted the device so it
remains functional under twice the amount of dark magic it could
handle before—so now it should be able to track subjects in even
the blackest regions of Svartalfheim. But if the dark elves do the
impossible and find a way to throw out Helheim-level dark energy,
the locator’s not going to be able to trace the
subject.”

“No trace at all?” Forse asked.

“No,” Henrik confirmed. “But honestly, that
level of bad juju is rarely conjured outside of Hel’s inner
sanctum. On their own, the dark elves can’t produce anywhere close
to the amount of dark magic this baby can handle now. And I’ve
altered it so it’s got a few-hour track time—it should take two to
four hours, hopefully less, to locate a subject.”

“That’s longer than it took before.” Forse
frowned.

Henrik
shrugged. “Adjusting the
älva
dust had a price. We had to compromise speed for
strength.”

The
rumble in Forse’s throat let me know he was
not
happy.

“Mia and I will keep working on the
blueprints from this end. In the meantime, everybody, take one of
these.” Henrik pulled four thin plastic strips out of the backpack,
each labeled with one of our names. Henrik removed the
identification tags and handed them out. “They’re your new
communication devices. Let’s give the human a hand for her
innovative design.”

Five pairs of eyes turned to our mortal, who
took a bow amidst our applause. “I hate that y’all need a backup
com device in case the dark elves confiscate your phones,” she
grumbled.

“Luck favors the prepared. Remember?” Tyr
winked. “How do these work?”

“
Remove
the wrapping and place them sticky-side down on the inside of your
forearm.” We all did as Mia instructed. In seconds, the clear
device adapted its texture to be a
perfekt
match to our skin.

“
The
ultimate camouflage—well done,
flicka
,” Brynn praised.

“Thanks,” Mia said. “To turn them on, you’ll
need to press your pointer finger to the vein that runs in the
center of your wrist, then speak the name of the person you want to
call—the coms are coded to recognize your fingerprint and your
voice, so nobody else can activate them. Worst-case scenario, if
your phones are taken and you’re separated from the group, you can
use these to call each other for help. They can also send and
receive electronic transmissions like e-mails, but we’ve designed
them so there’s no digital trace.”

“Meaning?” I asked.

“Meaning, if one of you is captured and your
abductor somehow figures out you have a communication device on
your arm, we don’t want said abductor to be able to force you to
activate the com, then trace the other three devices. These
communicators make it impossible to track their user’s location
through an IP address or whatever magic passes for internet service
in Svartalfheim. And since there’s no fairy dust involved, these
devices will work anywhere—even, God forbid, in Hel’s dark
magic-laced inner sanctum.” Mia crossed her arms.

Tyr frowned. “Let’s not go back there. Brynn,
what’s our weapon count?”

Brynn held out her hand, and Henrik passed
the backpack. She shouldered it and tightened the straps, before
turning back to Tyr. “Forse has a broadsword, a nanomolecular
particle accelerator, and a pistol. Anything else?”

“The locator.” Forse tucked the Asgardian GPS
tablet in the pocket of his cargos.

“
And the
locator.” Brynn nodded. “I’ve got my rapier, dagger, and my killer
right hook. Tyr, you’ve got your broadsword, a handgun,
and
…anything
else?”

Tyr held up his palms. “I don’t need anything
else. I’ve got these.”

“Excellent. And Elsa, here.” Brynn held out a
small blade. I tried to wave it away, but she pressed it into my
hands. “Take it. I know you don’t want to hurt anyone, but use this
dagger if you need to. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Okay,” I whispered, tucking the weapon
through the belt loop of my black skinny jeans. Since my role on
this mission was a peacekeeping one, I’d passed on wearing the
regulation cargos donned by my friends. I’d also broken with the
all-black vibe, choosing a long sleeveless shirt in pale blue. The
soothing color was a known mood relaxer, something I intended to
use to my every advantage.

“So that’s the weapon count.” Brynn turned to
my brother. “Tyr, what’s the strategy once we touch down?”

Tyr crossed his arms, his biceps flexing with
the movement. “Strategy’s simple—we drop in, meet the dark elves at
a mountain range near the drop site, exchange the crystal for the
fugitive, and Bifrost out. Anyone who gets separated should find
their way back to the drop site, call for Heimdall, and return to
Arcata. But if, Odin forbid, you’re captured, do not try to escape.
Dark elves aren’t smart enough to strategize, and they’ll kill you
before they ransom you. Just sit tight, gather as much intel as you
can, and scream my name in your head. I’ll hear you and track you
down.”