Chapter Four

Violet struggled to get to her feet and managed to walk far enough to stand at the canyon’s edge. Sif stood next to her, one hand at the small of Violet’s back as they looked down into the canyon. Peyton, Desmond, and Manuel worked on setting up their chairs in the back of the truck.

“Ready?” Sif asked.

But before Violet could answer, the little sadist of an ice fairy shoved Violet over the edge.

Violet’s wings quickly unfurled and caught the updraft. Her stomach lurched as she fell, then lurched again as she was flung upward. She flapped several times and gained altitude quickly, aiming for the nearest cloudbank.

Sif appeared next to her, dragonfly wings buzzing. A fierce smile graced her expression as they raced toward the clouds. Violet ran out of gas halfway there and folded her wings. She leaned backwards and rocketed back towards the ground for a few seconds, then abruptly opened them. Her stomach heaved again as she swiftly slowed and she looked down at the canyon below.

Dezzy and Manny’s trucks were little more than matchbox cars beneath her and she could just see the forms of the three men in the back of Dezzy’s ride. A flicker of light caught her attention on the other side of the canyon and Violet narrowed her eyes to focus on where she initially saw the flash.

They were supposed to be alone…

Suddenly her left wing collapsed toward her body and pain ripped through her left shoulder. She cried out and grasped futilely at the injury, watching in bewildered confusion as light purple smoke and blood sprayed in the air from her damaged wing as she careened downward.

“Vi! Vi!” Sif cried, plummeting toward her, an ice-blue rocket. “Open your wings! Open them!”

Violet grimaced, gritting her teeth as her breath hissed from her lips. She forced the damaged wing open and slowed her ascent just as a bullet went whizzing past her nose.

“We’re being shot at!” Violet shouted.

“Can you make it up to the cloud bank?” Sif asked, eyes searching the canyon area for the attacker.

“No—I couldn’t even make it the first time,” Violet replied, also looking for the shooter.

“We’re easy targets up here. Where did you—”

Another flash from the same area. Sif dove, yanking Violet’s hand to change their course.

“Change direction frequently and erratically!” Sif commanded.

“My wing has a bullet in it!” Violet retorted, nevertheless doing as Sif said.

“Worry about it later or you’re back to reincarnation land and we’ll have to start this all over again when we find you!”

Adrenaline finally kicked in and the pain in her shoulder vanished. Violet dove and weaved, still trying to pinpoint the sniper’s location as she and Sif made their mad descent. Another flash and she spun, wincing as the bullet found purchase at the tip of her already damaged wing. But with that last shot, she knew exactly where the shooter was. Game on.

I’m not in trouble. THEY are.

Violet’s wings flew wide and tilted, effectively stopping her in midair. She hovered, her eyes shifting focus. It was like she could suddenly see in infrared. An angry crimson figure hunkered down near a boulder, the white-hot silhouette of the gun’s barrel demarcating the difference between weapon and assassin.

She spread her arms, feeling as though someone else had taken control of her body; she’d become nothing more than a passenger. A puppet under its master’s control.

“Burn,” she snarled, her tone laced with malicious undertones, like three or four voices of deeper pitch had joined.

The purest, brightest, whitest of light shot from her palms and eyes, directed toward the spot where the sniper lay. A split second later, the rock shielding the shooter exploded into molten pieces, and an eerie silence followed.

“YES!!!” Sif screamed from above her. “Get him, Valkyrie!”

Violet’s body reacted, her wings flapping with newfound power. She rocketed toward the wreckage of the exploded boulder and landed behind a stand of tall cacti near it. She crouched and surveyed the area, waiting for movement, watching for the assassin. The gun lay in charred, smoking ruin next to the shattered rocks and a large splatter of liquid, too pink to be human blood, stained the sand and rock.

As Violet surveyed her handiwork, Sif joined her.

“You wounded them, but they disappeared. There’s a trail,” Sif said, following the pools of pink until they stopped a few yards away. “They’re gone. Whoever it was—they have the same tricks as we do. Definitely not of this world.”

Across the canyon, Dezzy, Manny, and Peyton shouted to them, wondering what the hell was going on.

“That wing is damaged,” Sif morosely stated, inspecting Violet’s left wing.

“What… What happened?” Violet asked, feeling suddenly as if she’d just woken from a dream.

She was back in control again. Her head hurt. Her shoulders hurt. Her wing burned. Her legs threatened to buckle, but she fought the trembling in them. If the assassin was still in the area, she didn’t want to telegraph any further weakness.

“You don’t remember?” Sif countered, inspecting the wounds.

“It felt like… Like someone else took over. Ouch! Dammit!” Violet replied, wincing away from the fairy’s prodding fingers.

“It’s deep,” Sif sighed. “It didn’t go all the way through. We have to pull it out.”

“The hell you are,” Violet retorted. “I’ll do it.”

“You can’t even reach it, dummy,” Sif snorted. “Can you make it back to the other side of the canyon?”

“Yeah,” Violet said through gritted teeth. “Let’s go.”

Sif launched immediately skyward but Violet didn’t have the strength left in her legs for such a dramatic takeoff. She walked carefully and slowly to the edge and turned her back to it, then simply fell backwards. Her wings fully unfurled as she fell, and she flipped, immediately catching the updraft.

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She flapped a few times, which enabled her to coast on the swirling canyon air currents to the other side. She landed next to Dezzy’s truck, immediately grasping at the bedrails to steady herself. Her legs were done—she’d pushed too hard.

Peyton raced over to her and caught her around the waist before she fell. He eased her to the tailgate and helped her sit. Sif appeared behind her and pulled a first aid kit out of her magical fanny pack.

“What the fuck was that?” Dezzy bellowed as he and Manny jogged over to them.

“She’s been shot,” Sif tersely replied, locating a pair of forceps in the kit. “We gotta get the bullet out.”

“Who shot her?” Manny asked, anger darkening his eyes. “Is that why Vi lit him up? I didn’t even know she could do that!”

“Hello, I’m sitting right here,” Violet quipped, wincing as Sif prodded at the largest of her wounds.

“Ya looked like that comic character with the eye lasers,” Peyton said.

“New ability unlocked,” Violet giggled, then snarled, “God dammit, Sif. You’re just pushing it deeper.”

“Sorry,” the fairy murmured, prodding even more.

“Just pull it out already,” Violet gasped.

“It’s digging!” Sif replied with sudden alarm. “We must get it out. I’m sorry Vi, but this is going to really fucking hurt.”

Violet bit down on the collar of her shirt and squeezed Peyton’s hand as Sif plunged the forceps into the bullet hole. Sif dug deeper, chasing the bullet, which caused Violet to writhe against Peyton in agony.

“Stop! You’re hurting her! You’re just doing more damage—” Dezzy began to protest, reaching for the fae.

“It’s enchanted. We have to get it out,” Sif calmly replied, still chasing the bullet with the forceps.

Violet wrapped her arms around Peyton’s waist and buried her face against his chest. He held her tightly while the sadistic little fairy continued digging. The clink of metal on metal finally sounded—though Violet felt rather than heard the impact. Violet gasped in pain as Sif dragged the hateful piece of metal out.

“Got it!” Sif cried triumphantly, holding it up to the waning light of dusk to see.

Violet sagged against Peyton, cold sweat poured down her neck and back. She trembled and breathed heavily, thankful that the pain had dramatically lessened in the wake of the bullet’s extraction.

“What the hell is that?” Dezzy asked.

“Gnarly,” Manny commented with a distasteful grimace.

Violet lifted her eyes and watched Sif inspect the bullet. It glowed silver, but black wisps of noxious-smelling smoke curled away from it. Her blood dripped from it, then congealed in smoking black pools as it fell, disappearing before it hit the ground.

“This is serious,” Sif replied, glaring. “Where else were you hit?”

Violet sat on the truck’s tailgate, exhausted. Her shoulders felt like they were on fire. The wounds in her wing throbbed hotly, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. Her head pounded. Her legs trembled, even though they no longer bore her weight.

“I don’t think I can take it if you go digging around after another one,” Violet hoarsely whispered as Peyton sat next to her, his hands methodically checking her right wing for any signs of damage or injury.

“If there’s another one lodged in your wing, you might not have a choice,” Sif replied, almost apologetic.

Peyton turned his attention to the left wing and whistled shrilly.

“Two more holes, but it looks like it went clean through,” he reported as Sif hopped up on the tailgate to join him.

Violet leaned forward, grateful when Manny and Dezzy both steadied her. Dezzy began to check the rest of her over while Peyton and Sif ascertained further the damage to her wing.

“That eye laser thing was badass!” Dezzy chimed as he finished checking her. “I take it you got him.”

“I hurt him, but he got away,” Violet quietly said, wincing as Sif packed the biggest of her wounds with gauze.

“So he’s still out there? Right now?” Manny nervously asked, turning to look back across the canyon.

“Not here,” Sif said. “We need to get Vi out of here and you all must leave immediately. Do not follow each other. Double back and make sure you are absolutely certain that no one is following you. We’ll see you back at Dezzy’s.”

Violet and Sif disappeared before their eyes and Violet fought the urge to vomit as they rematerialized on Dezzy’s sofa. Violet fell forward off the couch and landed in a heap next to the coffee table. She moaned in pain and exhaustion as Sif’s steely hands dragged her into a sitting position.

“We might have to leave,” Sif said, pulling a few stones and a tin of some kind of sweet-smelling salve from her fanny pack.

“And go where?” Violet weakly asked, not bothering to flinch as Sif slathered the ointment over her wounds.

“Valhalla. You’ll be safer there.”

“But what about my brother? Peyton? Manny? I have so much shit to do here and they’re all in danger.”

The room suddenly flashed white and Violet cried out as a thundercrack sounded, shaking the whole house in its wake. Thor stood before them a split second later with a familiar man joining him.

“What did she do now?” Thor laughed, watching as Sif pushed Violet forward so that she laid flat on her belly.

“She’s been shot.”

“What?! By who?” Thor bellowed, kneeling and watching as Sif placed the stones around Violet’s salve-packed wounds. “Where the fuck are her guards?”

“Probably by the same goon that stabbed her with a soul blade,” Sif tersely replied. “We didn’t see any guards. Hold this.”

Thor took the tin of salve and watched as Sif pulled what looked like a wizard’s wand out of her fanny pack. Her sapphire eyes glowed pale ice blue and she murmured something Violet couldn’t understand. The sensation of intense cold, so cold it burned, washed over Violet’s wing and she slammed her fist on the ground several times, fighting the sudden intense pain.

“It’ll be over soon,” Sif quietly said.

True to her word, within moments, the pain completely abated and when Violet unfolded her wings, the left one felt completely healed. The ethereal skin around the wounds felt tight and looked shiny, but it was otherwise fine.

Violet managed to pull herself into a sitting position as Sif collected the stones and put them back into her fanny pack. She willed her wings away and felt the familiar heat spread across her back. The wings faded into her skin in the form of a beautiful, intricate, iridescent tattoo that stretched from her shoulders to just above her buttocks.

“How did you do that?” Violet finally asked Sif when she’d recovered enough to speak.

“Geodes of Ice Healing,” Sif quipped, turning to regard Thor. “Do we stay or do we return?”

Thor met Violet’s gaze.

“You’d be safer in Valhalla. You’ve fledged. It might be time to—”

“She cannot return—not as a Valhallan Valkyrie,” the familiar man said, interrupting. “She fledged on Earth, not in Asgard.”

“What do you mean, Ragnar?” Thor asked, perplexed. “She’s Valkyrie. She’s Gersemi. She’s Asgardian.”

Ragnar shook his head and quietly said, “She is an Asgardian princess, yes. But the magic that binds Valkyries to service, fledging, must occur in Valhalla if they are to be Asgardian protectors.”

Sif made a strangled noise in her throat and thumped her head against the flats of her palms several times. Violet stared at Ragnar, the bitter rage of her inherent dislike of the man burned her tongue.

A dark room. A large bed covered with black satin sheets and surrounded by gauzy black drapes under a black canopy. Candles flickered by the dozens around the room. A woman’s voice moaned; sound of unmistakable, carnal pleasure. Behind the curtains, the silhouettes of two people writhed together. The curtain flew back as if suddenly caught in an abrupt, violent wind, exposing Ragnar and some buxom blonde woman. Both were naked and in a compromising position should either one of them need to fight.

“Gersemi! I didn’t think—”

Violet shook her head to clear it and found the three others watched her as she emerged from the vision. Ragnar’s ice blue stare bored into her. Realization suddenly dawned and Violet’s jaw went slack for a split second before she bellowed.

“You!”

Before Violet realized she’d even moved, she held the warrior by his throat, slammed up against the wall, his feet dangling uselessly.

“She remembers,” Ragnar choked, clawing desperately at her fingers, the hint of laughter in his croaky voice.

“Vi, let him go. C’mon,” Thor said as he attempted to pry her fingers loose.

“You,” Violet snarled again, redoubling her grip.

“Gersemi, put him down. It’s over and done,” Sif whispered next to Violet’s ear.

It was like something clicked within her brain and she abruptly released her hold on the warrior. As soon as she did, her knees buckled and she hit the floor hard, the breath audibly rushed from her lungs. Sif helped her to a sitting position.

“The security team attached to both Manny and Violet were assassinated. We found their corpses in the ditch behind the gym,” Ragnar said to Thor, apparently picking up a conversation that had been interrupted earlier.

"They’ll regenerate back in Valhalla,” Thor sighed. “Violet, what happened?”

“I want him gone before I say another word,” Violet wearily snarled.

“Wow,” Ragnar breathed, staring at her. “Were you always this beautiful when you’re angry or is that a new development?”

“I will fucking kill you,” Violet venomously whispered, the odd ethereal undertones taking the natural tone away from her voice.