“And why is that? The man was leaning down closer to her open window now, and she could see that he had slightly elongated lateral incisors and silver-blue eyes, just like Cnut.
“Because Cnut is in danger, and I need help to save him.”
The man gave Andrea a pointed survey, or as much as he could with her sitting inside the car. The look pretty much said, A skinny girl like you going to save a big ol’ Viking? It is to laugh! In fact, he did laugh. “And who might you be?”
“Cnut’s lifemate,” she snapped. “He’s probably in Jasper’s hands right now as you delay. Now, will you let me through?”
He did, and got immediately on his cell phone, she could see through her rearview mirror. By the time she drove up the winding drive to the front of the castle, she had no time to be frightened by the creepy castle that rose up many stories before her. There was a gang of Vikings waiting for her on the steps. And they didn’t look happy.
No sooner did Andrea step out of her car than they started asking questions, all at the same time.
“Where’s Cnut?”
“What danger?”
“How do you know about lifemates?”
“Jasper has Cnut? Where?”
And finally, one voice said, “Welcome.” It was a female voice that belonged to a strawberry-blonde woman who reached out to shake Andrea’s hand. “I’m Alex Sigurdsson. And these are Cnut’s brain-dead brothers. You must be terrified. Come inside where we can talk.”
Andrea began to weep with relief as Alex took her hand and led her through the double front doors, past parlors and dens, a dining room, and a chapel. Everywhere, Andrea saw what could only be vangels with silver-blue eyes and pointy teeth, working or standing about, watching her. Finally, they came to a large office, and everyone crowded in. Some of them, including herself, sat down, while others stood about. In a blur of introductions, Alex named Cnut’s brothers, who were all present, Vikar, Trond, Ivak, Mordr, Sigurd, and Harek, and explained that they were all there because one of their vangels, Armod, had been hurt in the Circle of Light battle and they’d all come to help him recover.
Then there was silence as they waited for Andrea to speak.
She started at the beginning, back when Celie had gone missing, and told them everything—well, not the details of her relationship with Cnut, but it was implied—up until her return to her Philadelphia apartment earlier today. In the course of her lengthy discussion, someone had handed her a glass of ice water, which she’d needed to quench her parched throat. Time traveling took a lot out of a person.
“So, you have to help me save Cnut,” she concluded.
They all stared at her, then they began talking among themselves.
“Backward time travel? I thought we were done with that.”
“Can you imagine what they must have thought back at Hoggstead when they saw a new and improved Cnut?”
“It would be funny if it weren’t so sad.”
“Sad? Sad doesn’t begin to describe what Cnut must be going through if Jasper has him.”
“I really thought Zeb was changed. A devil doesn’t change his ways, I guess.”
“He had no choice, apparently. It was him or Cnut.”
“He had a choice.”
“Well, there’s nothing we can do without Michael’s say-so.”
“Yeah, but you know what Mike said when he rescued you that time, Vikar? He said never again would he enter Jasper’s unholy domain.”
Vikar looked sick, actually physically sick, at that reminder of his onetime captivity. Which meant that Cnut was in for more horrendous torture than Andrea could even imagine. Or was he sick knowing there would be no celestial intervention for his brother.
Finally, the one named Vikar said, “Are you certain that Zeb took him back to Jasper?”
“Yes. I mean, not exactly.” She took a deep breath and reiterated, “Zeb told Cnut about his orders from Jasper. Zeb showed up at the yule feast. Zeb sent me home, or took me home, or teletransported me, or whatever the hell you all do. What else can I conclude?”
“He’s at Horror,” one of the brothers—the grim one . . . Mordr, she thought he was called—said with finality.
“We have to contact Mike. ASAP,” another brother said.
“But first, let us pray for our brother,” Vikar suggested, and everyone in the room bowed their heads in silent prayer.
That scared Andrea more than anything. That they were relying on prayer to save the man she loved. What was that old saying, “Pray to God, but pass the ammunition”? She wanted ammunition, lots of it. Still, she found herself praying, “Are you there, God? It’s me, Andrea.”