Going Thru Hell (3 page)

I paid the bill and left a healthy tip. She knew where I stayed
, and not wanting to disturb her work, I left quietly. The bright strings faded to the background, with the exception of one. I sensed the neon blue timeline meant something important, but as I tried to see it clearly, it disappeared. It left an impression, firing the instincts and whispering Bru’s necessity in my life.

I pushed on the glass door, immediately sensing Greek, Roman and Norse, but puzzled at the earthy flavor in the background.

I aimlessly drove around Nashville. At night, the city carried a different mantle. During the day, the people seemed open and smiling. At night, it carried the feel of desperation, to cling to youth or find happiness at the bottom of a bottle. Several gaunt faces held expressions of hopelessness, all visible in the truck’s headlights.

The truck needed gas and standing at
a pump, I looked around the small gas station. Senses on high alert, I twitched at the sound of another vehicle pulling into the opposite space. Glancing over my shoulder, I found a testosterone fueled Ferrari in fire engine red. A quick roll of the eyes and I returned to watching the wallet bleed profusely.

The gas station was situated in field outside of Nashville, included three islands with two pumps each, the familiar star logo in red and white, and a cashier busy reading Playboy.
A nearby highway roared with speeding traffic, the only break in the calm.

“Hey, good looking,” a masculine voice called.

Bloody hell.
I glanced around, hoping someone else pulled up and captured the guy's attention. No such luck. The truck and Ferrari remained the only two cars at the pumps. I cursed silently while ignoring him. The earthy smell surrounded me, filled with green things, sun and a summer's breeze.

“Do you ignore everyone?”

I jumped. I turned to find a tall, muscular, handsome male. Long brown hair streaked with various shades of silver, and a well-trimmed gray beard carted streaks of brunette, giving the impression of a mature man. He wore a black, faded AC/DC t-shirt, shabby blue jeans and black boots. His ice blue eyes caught my attention and held it.

Crap, not again.

“Who are you?” I sounded petulant.

“Aki.” He thrust one huge hand out
and I automatically grabbed it. He held mine, gentle but firm, the feel of calluses rasping against my skin. I glanced down, noted the scars before meeting his eyes again.

“What do you want?”

His laugh sent shivers of anticipation down my spine. My body hummed, the need to press every inch of me against his big body hard to resist.
Not again, not again, not again.
I shoved the memories away, a youthful folly I'd promised to never repeat.

“I've been looking for you.”

I pulled out of his grip, growling. The secondary ability floated to the top, riding the building anger. I closed the tank and hung up the nozzle. I faced the male, my palms hot and ready.

“Easy, Braider! I'm not here to ask for you to join sides.” His hands
rose in the universal signal of surrender.

“Then why look for me?”

A noise from the store turned my head and I gasped. Everywhere stood gods and goddesses. “You son of a bitch!”

The strands appeared in my head, decisions and outcomes clear. I glanced at Aki,
finding him in a battle stance, a sword at the ready. “Kylie, direct yourself at them, not me.”

Rage exploded, burning hot and fueling the power. I pushed aside the strands,
and let the other power come forward. We currently stood in a relatively empty area and the clerk inside ignored the pending fight.

I jumped into the bed of the truck
and turned to the audience, the sheer number of immortals distressing. I heard a roar above my head and grinned. Tiamat.

“Leave, now.” I scanned
every face, noting who appeared and who didn't. I flinched at Artemis in the crowd. She'd instigated the little incident fifteen years ago, and her hatred of me ran deep.

I braced and released power at the gathered immortals.
Unlike braiding time, the secondary ability released a blast of pure power, acting as a cannon shot. Despite my best efforts, I flew into the back window of the truck, cracking the window. I straightened, ignoring the throbbing pain, and bolstered by the cab, released again. Several of the weaker gods disappeared, arms up in defense. Others landed hard, rolling gracefully and onto their feet.

I held the last of the power, waiting for a more opportune moment. Several immortal faces, beautiful to behold no matter the culture,
contorted in surprise. Many managed to mix surprise with hatred.

“Stop
, Braider!” Aki yelled as he leaped forward, sword slicing downwards, opening Eros from chin to groin. Another deadly slice removed Jupiter’s arm, and an effortless spin brought his sword up in time to keep Freya from taking his head. Magdi and Amun took advantage of Aki's distraction, opening several deep wounds.

I stood, e
ntranced at Aki’s innate grace. Using the sword as a shield, he took blows and managed to land several punches. The dance of battle breathtaking, beautiful and lethal. He moved on swift feet, the slash of his sword precise and deadly. I could watch him for hours.

I didn't carry weapons, and hand to hand
combat would leave me either dead or kidnapped. I held my position, mesmerized by Aki's ruthless and graceful movements, creating a path through the remaining gods.

“Careless, Braider,” Artemis's husky voice sounded above. She stood on the roof of my truck,
shining brown curls blowing across her perfect face in the early morning breeze. She sighted me with an arrow, too close. Even if I managed to get my hands up in time, I'd be dead before releasing.

“Kill me. I'm not coming with you.” I stared into her chocolate eyes, ready to
die.

A large claw sliced Artemis in half, a roar forcing me to cover my ears and wince. I dropped into the truck bed
, only to be picked up and held against cool leathery skin. I opened my eyes to find we'd flown high into the air, circling the small gas station.

I
decided to hide until the end of time.

We watched Aki continue to slice his way through the crowd, his upper body carting several wounds, fighting four immortals at once. A deep growl erupted and the image of a bear flickered over his body before the movements came too fast to track. Gods and goddesses alike fell to the blur, body parts missing,
and immortal blood flooding the parking lot.

The last one disappeared, leaving Aki to stand in the middle,
turning slowly, the image of a grizzly bear superimposed over his form. He fell forward, hands out to catch himself. Blood splashed upwards in a graceful and grotesque arc, covering his upper body and face. He sat on his feet, sword laid carefully over his thighs, chin resting on the massive chest.

“Take me down, Tiamat.”

She wound downwards, landing lightly and gently setting me on the ground. “I'll lose too much cleaning this up.”

I held a hand to Aki. He grabbed my elbow and slowly stood. I held steady until he let go. I found his eyes, a shining light blue in the dark sea of blood. “I think you need a shower.”

“Don't change anything. The mess will disappear in a few minutes. The clerk didn't see the fight. It occurred on a different plane than the one he is able to view.”

A quick glance
confirmed he was right. The clerk continued to closely examine the centerfold, unfazed by the blood and gore littering his parking lot. “They chose not to let him see?”

“Yes, Kylie. They fear your wrath
, seeking only to scare you.”

“Yeah, well, they succeeded.”

Tiamat wrapped a giant claw around me, pulling me close.

“Kylie, we should return you to the hotel.” Tiamat's voice deep and more of a rumble.

I nodded. The evening proved to be more bizarre than anticipated. I wanted a nap and my face hurt.

I didn't invite Aki, yet he followed in the flashy Ferrari. Helping in the fight was a nice thing to do, but it didn't give him the right to barge into my life. Nor did I like the idea of a male constantly at my side.

My jaws clenched as I tried to think of ways to get rid of him. I reacted too strongly and, if in close proximity for any length of time, I'd do something stupid. I didn't need another idiotic moment peppering my history.

Chapter Five

The bastard followed
me into the hotel. Despite efforts to the contrary, the big bugger simply lifted me out of the way, shut the door and walked around the room, checking every nook and cranny.

I, on the other hand, stood in front of the couch,
growling.

“I don't believe I asked you to follow me here and check my room.” I crossed my arms and glared.

“After the little show earlier, I think it is best you remain protected at all times.”

“Ah. Assuming I want you to?”

“I know you need protection. It is why I sought you.” He looked under the bed, stood, and circled the room again.

“You've checked. Go find your own damn room. Or, in words better suited to your actions, get out.” I pointed at the door.

“No.”

I sized him up, calculating his size and my strength
, made bets, added the odds. Damn, I couldn't sling his ass over my shoulder and cart him outside. “You do realize this is the twenty-first century and you no longer get to play caveman with women, right?”

“It's for your own protection. They moved on you, in the open.”

I wanted to argue, but I'd sound like a spoiled child because, technically, he was correct. “Can't argue that point. Although I'm a little fuzzy as to when I asked you to be my bodyguard.”

I walked to the little fridge and found the door full of those cute little alcoholic
bottles more expensive than a drink at the Waldorf. I grabbed the vodka, Jack Daniels and Jim Beam, marched into the bathroom, shut and locked the door, and settled on the toilet lid. Despite the lemon face at the end of each shot, I finished all six.

I sat for a long time, and let
the alcohol fog any real thoughts. It dulled the humming from his close vicinity. I counted on my prudishness when drunk. I was insanely grateful for the quirk, and wondered if spending a few weeks half bombed would give him a hint.

Pounding on the door pulled me from a nice doze. I let him bang on the door, ignored the repeated inquiries after my health. When he broke the
doorknob and slammed the door open, I looked up calmly.

“Can I help you?”

“You are in danger, yet act like a petulant child,” his voice louder with every word.

“Does yelling at me make you feel better?”

“No!” He slammed the door, which swung open again.

I giggled.

I stood and stumbled to the suitcase, grabbing Looney Toons pajama bottoms with matching blue camisole.

I
n the bathroom, I tried to close the door a few times before realizing it would remain busted until the Neanderthal fixed it. Still giggling, I changed, not caring if he could see me. An alcohol fogged thought filtered through,
Why do I trust a strange immortal not to harm me?

I moseyed to the bed, flopped down, grabbed the remote and flipped channels to SyFy. Reruns of my favorite shows were on the menu, expected at the early morning hour. I snuggled into the pillows, ignoring the angry
, pacing male. My eyelids grew heavy and I checked out of reality.

The smell of food woke me
, along with the pounding of an alcohol-induced hangover.

“Good morning, Sunshine.”

I ignored him, instead searching for coffee. I could smell the dark bitter brew and was desperate to find it. My vision a bit blurry, I attempted to slide out of bed and instead made the long, familiar fall into carpet. I sprang up, pain bolting across my face from the healing rug burns. I hissed, eyes watering, and stumbled for the bathroom. Cold water didn't help as much as I wanted, but didn't stop me from continuing to splash it over the wounds.

A towel covered in
strange red goo appeared. I reached for it automatically, nose wrinkling at the bad smell.

“Wipe
this on carefully, Braider. It will help with the pain and healing.”

U
nable to form coherent words, I did as he demanded. The goo smelled like herbs I didn’t recognize, but it cooled the burns and relieved the pain. I moaned in relief.

“What is that crap?”

“Family secret.”

I rolled my eyes
behind closed lids. “Thank you. It's helping.”

I dropped the towel, looking into the mirror. My face resembled the aftermath of a nineties Nickelodeon tweenie game. I wrinkled my nose at the image and moved around Aki to the small table in the room. A setting for each of us, food and mugs sat quietly, waiting to be used. Taking a seat, I filled my plate with eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits and poured coffee into the mug. A little salt and pepper
, I shoveled the food as if it'd been days since my last meal.

Four mugs of coffee,
three pauses, two platefuls and one good belch later, I sat back, rubbing my distended belly and smiling.

“A lass that eats. Unusual in these times.”

I detected a faint accent. “I can out eat a frat boy after football practice.”

He chuckled, the smile transforming his face.
In the hours since he’d invaded my personal space, I noticed his angular face, masculine with hints of ruthlessness. A good, strong jawline, aquiline nose, classic Nordic features, combined with his shoulder length hair, made him lovely to look upon. Add in the smile, softening the unforgiving lines of his features, made him approachable and edible eye candy.

I swallowed hard, not sure what to say.

A little more clearheaded than the night before, I asked. “Why were you looking for me? You’re not a god, or even descended of them.”

“No, I am not. I am human.”

“Not completely.” I grabbed the coffee mug and rolled it between my hands.

“Astute observation. I am here to protect you
because of a promise.”

“Why are you avoiding my question?”

“Why are you so calm about the events happening?”

“Why answer my question with a question?”

He sat back, growling. I smiled because tweaking his nose was entertaining. I could play the game with the best of them. I almost giggled when he closed his eyes, breathing slow and deep.

“I prefer not to go into details about my life.”

“Fair enough. That goes both ways.”

I waited. He didn't need to know about my childhood, that I was only four the first time I'd seen a
n immortal and pointed her out. Or the current events were no worse than the incident at thirteen. Or the changes I'd made to save my grandmother. He sure as hell didn't need to know about my little folly at nineteen.

“Quid pro quo, then?” He finished the last of his coffee.

“Bet your sweet bippy, handsome.”

I stood and cleared the little table, stacked
the dishes neatly outside the door, and took a shower. I ignored the open door, nothing I could do about it. After drying off and wrapping a towel around my head, I did a spit, polish and shine on my skin with lots of lotion. I dressed in jeans and comfortable tank top with the intention of playing tourist.

“You are beautiful
,” he whispered, standing in the doorway.

I jumped, nearly knocking myself out when I slipped on the tiles and landed hard on my ass. I snagged the little plastic trash
can and threw it at his face. “Get out! Who the hell do you think you are?”

I heard laughter as he left. I stood, grumbling about fidiots and their need to play peekaboo. Hair pulled into an octopus clip, clothes straightened, I grabbed my purse to leave. I decided not to play tourist, but head to the local university library. I remembered something from the night before and needed to research.

The
local university crawled with students and smelled like any other big school. The buildings spoke of the history, built with stone, ornate architectural lines, and decorated with banners for the football team. Students lay on the carefully manicured lawn with lovers or books, and in some cases, both. I followed directions to the library, and ensconced myself at a corner table with twenty or so books.

The library was a throwback to the Victorian age, with plenty of oak paneling, bookcases three stories high, an enormous vaulted ceiling, herringbone pattern hardwood floor and long tables in neat rows. My table was in the far northeast corner, hidden from prying eyes, with a pull chain Tiffany lamp as company. Perfect.

I could have used the internet to find answers, but when it comes to serious research, I found it easier to use real books, paper and pen.

“Ma'am? We close in ten minutes.” The librarian, a small, neat woman in her early thirties, approached quietly, her tone low to keep from startling me. I met her beautiful hazel eyes and smiled
, nodding. I closed all the books and began to return them to their proper places. I grabbed the notebook filled with scribbles, notes, hastily drawn pictures and various other information. I'd found the answer.

I stopped at the diner, watching for Brunhilde. I didn't have high hopes, it was early evening and she likely worked the
late night shift.

“Hey, Kylie
,” her voice drifted through the small crowd, and I looked at her, smiling. She bounced over, lovely red locks in a ponytail as jaunty as her personality.

“Evenin', Bru.”

“Let me grab you something to eat, you look starved, then we'll talk. I understand you have a new follower.” She winked and went behind the main counter.

I covered my face with a hand, shaking my head. I heard her plop into the booth and smack her arms on the table. With a quick glance, I knew she wanted to talk. At least she'd
carry on a conversation instead holding an inquisition. Maybe.

“How'd you hear about Aki?”

“The secretive bastard didn't tell you, huh? Not surprised. The promise was to me,” she grinned.

“
He really a Berserker? The ones of legend?” I leaned forward, waiting for the answer.

She laughed. “Good, you know about them. For the most part.
They are my father's chosen. Some, like Aki, were gifted with the spirit of a bear.”

“He's a shapeshifter?” I gave her a skeptical look.

“Oh, heavens, no. Only the spirit, as in the strength and cunning. Aki, however, stole something sacred. He's been wandering ever since. I found him some time ago, saved his fungus filled hide and as repayment, made him promise to protect you. If nothing else, he will uphold the promise to his death.”

“Well, that does explain a few things. Where do you come in?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I have given you my loyalty. I know you will do whatever is necessary to protect mortals.”

Food and drink arrived, the smells prompting me to dig in and prove my earlier
conversation with Aki. No words were spoken, instead an amicable silence descended as I cleaned the plate and several glasses of Pepsi. Full, I sat back after stacking everything neatly and wiping the table clean. I noticed Bru’s expression of approval.

“Bru, you're not going to move into my hotel room too, are you?”

Her laughter rang through the diner, catching the attention of several men. I couldn't blame them, her laughter carried an innocence with a promise to be naughty quality. Add those immortal good looks and she had groupies in the making.

“I need to complete a ceremony which will bond us. Are you up for it?”

“I'm sorry. What?”

“Ceremony. Bond. Complete. Yes?”

“I, uh, have to think about it. I need details, not vague answers. I'm already having a hard time with the bloody Berserker barging into my life.”

“Good answer. Many say yes
, wanting to use me for their own interests. Listen, meet me here tomorrow afternoon. And yes, Aki will come. He's stuck to you like white on rice.” She jumped up and left me sitting with a dropped jaw.

I paid the bill and headed to the room. My mind floated around the information gathered all afternoon, pushing even my ability to accept the strange.

Valkyries, Berserkers and gods, oh, my! Blech.