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I WISH I COULD have said Reyfyre had been kidding, but he left me very little room to study the mixology book that Charity had given me. Reyfyre had me at the local gym before the crack of dawn each day and he ran me like a pack mule.
The men at the gym tried to stay out of our way, but inevitably Reyfyre would point to one of them and then point to me and command them to beat the shit out of me. I did much better against the non-magical beings than I did against Reyfyre. But a punch was a punch, and I usually left sporting more black and blue than I cared to.
Saturday came fast and by the time we got to the bar for work, I was physically wrecked.
Charity brought us back to the office, handed us smocks with name tags and then pushed a piece of paper across the desk.
Reyfyre scanned the document. “Charity, this rent is insane. It isn’t even half that of the slums up in Harlem.”
She crossed her arms and jutted her chin out. “And?”
“And we have jobs.” He waved toward the bar outside her office door. “We don’t need a handout.”
“Look. You’re the closest thing to family that I have in the city and I’m not willing to rake you over the coals with a high rent. I don’t need the money. You do. Let me help you get settled. We can re-evaluate the lease next year.” Her eyebrows rose in such a way that I knew there was no arguing with this woman.
“Thank you,” I said before Reyfyre could launch into another argument. “And next year, we can look at a figure that is more in line with other apartments in the building.”
Reyfyre sliced me an annoyed glance, but then he nodded and signed the lease.
Charity smirked at me for a moment and then ripped off one of the copies and handed it to Reyfyre before stowing the paper in her file cabinet. The moment she left the office, her easy-going attitude tensed.
Charity set us up behind the bar and watched for a few minutes before she disappeared. When she returned, she wore a simple cocktail dress and she clicked the large screen over the bar to the news instead of a local basketball game. Several patrons moaned in response.
Her face paled as she stared at some of the early arrivals and then down at her outfit and then she slammed the remote down on the bar.
“I’m not going into debt for this stupid thing,” she muttered and gave Reyfyre a half hug. “Make sure you’re more entertaining than that tonight and you’ll keep the patrons happy.”
“Stay safe,” Reyfyre said and glanced at me over her head.
I gave him a nod. “We’ve got this. You just keep your head low and do everything they demand, and you’ll be back before the end of the night.” I smiled at her, but my gut did that terrible twist that I remember back on Asgard just before the wraiths attacked. But just like last time, I could not pin down what disaster was waiting at my door.
Charity left and we focused on the patrons, whipping up their orders and chatting it up like we were old pros. By five, the place was packed, and every television was broadcasting the ball.
Festive music filled the bar as Reyfyre and I worked together to mix drinks. I had to reference the book near the register for a couple of the cocktails, but we were slinging bottles back and forth between us like circus jugglers and we had the crowd enthralled with our antics.
I sent a bottle of vodka his way, and Reyfyre’s gaze caught on one of the television monitors. The bottle sailed past him and shattered on the floor. But even that didn’t capture his attention away from the screen. An eerie silence settled on the bar as everyone stared at what was unfolding at the ball.
I finished the drink I was mixing, delivered it, and then stepped close to Reyfyre. Every muscle in his body was tight, and I threaded my fingers through his as red hair on the screen caught my attention.
Two guards held Charity’s arms as she faced Thor. Her glare was murderous, and her mouth moved. I was certain by the expression on Thor’s face that what was falling out of Charity’s mouth was meant to scathe.
Thor backhanded her, and her head rocked to the side as blood and teeth spewed from her mouth.
“Damn it.” Reyfyre’s growl swept through me, and he tried to pull his hand from mine.
I tightened my grip, unwilling to let him be the hero. Not when it meant our demise.
“Let go,” he growled at me.
“No. If you go running in to try to save the day, you will die. We both know that. We are not ready, Ray.” I kept my voice low enough so only he could hear me and met his gaze.
“You expect me to just stand here and let this happen?” He waved at the television.
“No one can stop them. You know that just as well as I do.” I stared him down, keeping hold of his hand as if my life depended on it. My heart thundered in my chest. “I cannot lose you.”
He blinked at me as if my words hit a defuse button and then focused on the screen as the guards hauled Charity onto a table. Her thrashing and screaming carried over the music, and Thor’s twisted smile as he stepped between her kicking legs made me see red.
It was Reyfyre’s turn to clamp down on my hand.
“If I can’t intervene, neither can you.”
The crowd growled their unhappiness. The few who cheered were slapped into submission by the patrons as we all helplessly watched Thor ravage our friend. The vileness of the situation hit me harder than a sword to the gut.
The bar staff came to stand with us as our boss died a horrible death on national television. She wasn’t the only one who met their maker tonight, and when I went to turn the television off, Andrew, the manager who had been left in charge, took the remote.
“It’s against the law to turn it off.” His voice trembled.
“Seriously?”
He pulled a laminated sheet from under the register and handed it to me. It was Odin’s decree that all residents of New York must watch the ball in its entirety. Turning off the broadcast would lead to punishment.
I clenched my teeth against the stomach roll. I let my anger take a front seat as I glared at the television and the line of women waiting for death to claim them.
“We need to train more,” Reyfyre whispered in my ear while his hard eyes never left the screen.
“GET UP!”
Reyfyre’s growl lit my entire body on fire. Fury swept through me as I laid on the mat in the empty gym. We had broken into this building every night since Charity died, and Reyfyre was relentlessly hard.
Harder than he had ever been on me.
“Fuck you, Rey,” I snarled from my vantage point on my back. “If you keep going at this pace, you’ll break something and then I’ll be useless to you.”
He wiped his face and stepped back. “You have yet to take me down, Karen.” He used my fake name like a weapon.
“But I have landed hits.” I rolled and forced my tired body to my feet.
“I’m not a god. Landing hits is not good enough to take one down.”
Of course, he was right. We had witnessed five more balls and dozens of women killed on camera since Charity died. Andrew took over the day-to-day operations of the bar for Charity’s brother, and we packed in more and more patrons every day with our bartending act. We were in sync on the bar floor but on the mat in the dead of night, we acted like sworn enemies.
And the few scant hours of sleep each night didn’t replenish my reserves at all.
“I’m tired,” I admitted as I climbed to my feet.
“We’ll sleep when we’re dead.”
His snapping comeback did nothing to quell the growing inferno inside me. I needed to change tactics if I was ever going to lay him out on the mat.
So, instead of charging at him like I had for hours on end, I used my feminine wiles and sashayed forward with my head held low. I slowly licked my lips as I stepped within striking distance. I placed my palms on the tight black shirt covering his chest and glanced up at him as I parted my lips enough to hopefully look sexy.
I didn’t wait for any response from him; I yanked him toward me and tossed him over my hip. He landed on his back with a thud.
I swiped my palms together as if wiping dirt off, and Reyfyre’s eyes narrowed at me.
“So, I guess honey does work better than brute force.”
His leg swept mine out from under me, and I landed on my ass. Reyfyre slammed on top of me, pinning my wrists to the floor above my head. “That is a dangerous game, Kara.”
His low voice caressed me in ways that brought forth a different kind of fire that I had thought long since died.
“Time is ticking, love. We don’t have time for anything but brute force. If you approach Thor like that, you will be noticed and you will be on his fucking list by the end of the night. I do not want you anywhere near that bastard. Understand?” By the time he finished speaking, his voice had gone feral. “Not until we have a solid plan to bring him down.”
He stayed on top of me longer than necessary as we had a stare down. His chest rose and fell as heavily as mine.
I huffed up at him. “We will never have a plan at this rate.”
Reyfyre shifted so his knees pinned my sides between them, and he sat up. Running his hand through his hair, he took a deep breath. “Every time I try to put together a plan in my head, it’s not good enough.”
“Why not?”
He sighed. “Too many damn holes.” He climbed to his feet, offering me his hand.
I let him help me up.
“Maybe a good night’s sleep will help. We have not slept more than a few hours since we arrived. Sleep deprivation isn’t great for making plans. And excuses of whether we are strong enough at this point is just plain procrastination.” I didn’t add the fact more people would die if we didn’t do something soon. The number of deaths already weighed on both of us.
“I wish I had never thought of New York.” His gaze slashed to mine.
“I get it. But sooner or later, we would have seen the news and would have come here anyway. The plan of hitting them in the capital is about as ludicrous as hitting them at the ball that Charity died at, and you know it.”
“It still doesn’t erase the guilt.”
I knew enough about that deadly emotion. “Guilt won’t change the past.”
His lips tilted into a semblance of a smile.
“Let’s go get some sleep and then maybe in the morning, we can figure out a viable plan together.” I stepped toward the ropes blocking us into the ring.
Reyfyre grumbled under his breath but followed without a fight this time.
We passed another wanted poster with a drawing of my former self plastered on it with a hefty reward, and I scoffed at it. Too bad I didn’t resemble the majestic Valkyrie pictured.
Reyfyre glanced at it and a sneaky smile found his lips. “I could be richer than Odin if I handed you in.”
I slapped him in the chest with the back of my hand. There was no power in it, and he snickered in response.
Maybe our dreams would give us some answers; otherwise, we would be just as screwed as we were right now.