1
Hildi
“Unbelievable. Absolutely fucking unbelievable.”
“Which part? Roland showing back up or Marshal being a traitor?” Rupert asks me. “Honestly, I should’ve seen it coming.”
I stop my pacing and look at the immortal prince.
“Why didn’t you?” Agis asks, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I’ve been off for weeks, you know that. I got so sick the night you found the key and opened the gate. I think it took all of my psychic energy. I’ve been off balance ever since.”
“It doesn’t matter why we didn’t see it coming,” Armin says, brushing his long blond hair over his shoulder. “What are we going to do about it?”
“We sure as hell aren’t letting him find the key.”
The four of us lock eyes. I have the key, safely hidden, or at least I hope so. I’d hidden it in an enchanted box made of iron and secured it on the grounds. I know it’s temporary until I find something different, something more secure, but I had to do something. Just thinking about the dark abyss beyond the door and the multi-eyed, winged monsters that protect the doorway of the temple makes my skin clammy.
Agis crosses his massive arms over his chest. “Rupert’s right, psychic abilities or not, we should have seen him coming. I know Dylan threw him out, but missing out on all the fun and debauchery of the apocalypse? He’s probably been looking for a way to get here the whole time.”
“Do you really think the gods sent him?” I ask.
“I doubt they’re happy we pressed the pause button on their game,” Miya replies. He’s been quiet this whole time, sitting in the window seat, staring outside. “They want their crusade, but I’m sure he made himself available.”
“He offered something,” Agis adds. “A deal, an agreement, something to get them to let him play.”
“Then we have to figure out what that is,” I say, rubbing my forehead. This whole thing had gone from bad to worse. We came here with a simple but daunting task. Find the stone, get to the temple, open the gate, claim victory—end the apocalypse.
We’d expected a battle landscape. Instead, we got a stupid Academy filled with teenagers, impulsive and hormonal. They’re all touched by the gods; demons, demi-gods, witches, a Nephilim—Lucifer’s son, of all people. My first roommate was a freaking vampire. My second? A gods-damned fairy. Their parents are royals, upping the stakes in the battle for the apocalypse. For them, it’s a land grab. Expanding their realms. For us? It’s saving humanity.
The worst part is, we weren’t even supposed to be here. This is the Raven Guard’s job. They’d done it before. But Morgan is pregnant, and I’d volunteered, yes, volunteered to come in their place, leading the motley crew of Immortals. Who are as much of a distraction as allies. They are ridiculously handsome, with unbelievable bodies, unparalleled strength, and boat-loads of anxiety from being enslaved for eternity.
I glance over at Miya. “We agreed on a truce with Luke, Marielle, and the twins. Do you think they’ll hold to it?”
The Japanese warrior looks at me for the first time since we left Roland’s new office. The simple action of his eyes sweeping over me sets my skin on fire. We’d been intimate—although it was an act of mercy. I was under the influence of Marielle, my vampire roommate, horny and desperate as hell. He’d broken decades of celibacy to help me. Now? Things are awkward.
Miya stands, his long robes falling to his feet. I hold his eyes, feeling the flicker of vampire venom still lingering in my veins. I’m not sure it will ever stop calling to me.
“The gods want amusement as much as they want a war—again, it’s why they sent us, and all of the royals' children, here. We bide our time. Figure out Roland’s plan. Keep the key hidden. Play their game while we play our own.”
Agis nods and Armin sets his jaw, both quietly agreeing. Rupert sighs and says, “What about Marshal?”
That’s a loaded question. Marshal and I’d been hate-fucking for weeks now. Blowing off steam—and well, simply blowing one another. There hadn’t been anything to it—no emotions—no connection. At least, that’s what I tell myself. I look away from the others, blinking back hot tears of betrayal. He’d sided with Roland—the winner’s side, in his opinion.
“Fuck Marshal,” I say. “He’s a bastard and disloyal and we don’t need him to win this.”
Not one of the Immortals look convinced, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned over my lifetime, there’s something to the term “fake it ‘til you make it.” I’m definitely faking it.
“If we’re going to play their game, there’s only one thing we can do,” I say, looking at Rupert. “We’re going to Marshal’s party.”
“Is that what you’re going to wear?” Elizabeth asks, eyeing me from across our dorm room. I’m still in my school uniform. She’s wearing a wispy, flowy dress with long tendrils hanging from the skirt.
“What’s wrong with this?” I ask, smoothing out the skirt. To be honest, I’ve gotten used to the ease of the uniform. I’m here to work, not play, so the less time thinking about what I’m going to wear, the better.
“It’s a party, Hildi. Play the part.”
I narrow my eyes at my roommate. Elizabeth is a tiny girl with soft, pink hair. She looks like a child. I suspect something very different lies beneath the façade. “What do you mean, play the part?”
“You’re a Valkyrie. A total badass. This is the first event you’re going to since you killed Headmaster Garland, and Headmaster Roland replaced him. If you’re going to sway the rest of the students on campus to follow you, then you’ll need to lead them.”
“And that starts tonight?” I ask, feeling like this is overly complicated.
“It’s already started.” She tosses me a pair of tight leather pants. I stare down at them.
“Seriously?”
“Of course. Those pants will show everyone that you’re rough, resilient, determined.”
“How do you figure that?” I stroke the buttery leather. They are high quality.
“Only a certain kind of person can wear a pair of pants like that. They’re like armor. A pain in the ass to put on and take off. If a guy wants in them? He has to be committed to getting them off.”
“I’m more interested in his commitment to getting me off,” I mutter. “I didn’t know you were such a complex thinker.”
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“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Hildi Axel, but you can trust me. I think I proved that.”
She’d gone after Armin when he was injured, making sure he was safe. I don’t know much about Elizabeth, other than the fact she’s Fae and has impeccable timing, and a desire to be on the winning side of this war. We need allies. If I need to put on a pair of leather pants to prove my trust, I can do that.
“I’ll meet you in the lounge,” she says, heading out the door.
I undress and pull on the pants, tugging them over the curves of my body. They fit like a glove, and I get the strange sense that the leather is molding to my body. There’s the tingle of magic, and if Elizabeth can charm pants to make my ass look great, she’s a worthy ally, indeed.
Now I just need a shirt.
I bend before the trunk at the end of my bed, flipping open the lid. The trunk had been waiting for me when I arrived through the portal. It was filled with a few personal items—more than I’d packed—along with necessities. It’d also held Morgan’s blade—the one forged by Damien. The one I’d used to kill Headmaster Gardener.