Corruption, page 6
Kirby and Gwydion had FU specific details that tied to TOM, and Fen and Frey offered input about the gods themselves.
My fingers flew over the keyboard. Even with the multiple voices, it was easy for me to find a zone. It was as if I was connected to the machine. Like if I focused hard enough, I could reach through with my mind, tweak a few things, and magically get the results I needed.
I was mid-keystroke when a chill raced down my spine. A low growl rumbled from Fen’s chest, and I swore every hair on my body stood on end.
Kirby and Magnus were on their feet in a heartbeat, summoning magical swords and spinning toward the entrance to NEON.
Bragi walked through the front door.
Eleven
Freyr
Bragi stood in the doorway to NEON, hands raised above his head. “Stop me if you’ve heard this one—A bard walks into a bar.”
“He should’ve ducked,” Gwydion countered.
Bragi’s chuckle was strained as he cast his gaze around the room.
It was deceptive. Yes, he was facing off against some powerful beings, but he had strengths most never saw coming.
“I come in peace?” Bragi wiggled his fingers.
Fen’s deep growl grew in volume. I suspected the only reason he hadn’t attacked was because Bragi had helped us find and save Dahlia not too long ago.
Where I could sense lust and desire, Bragi was a full empath. When we were younger, eons ago, it made him a brilliant poet. But it weighed on him over the centuries, and he’d learned instead to project as well as absorb.
Given the assorted pieces of emotional baggage everyone in this room carried, that could be more deadly than anything Vidar could summon.
I stepped forward. “What can we do for you?”
“Woo.” Bragi let out a subdued exhale. “I could’ve picked a worse night to visit, but not much. When will you have the berserker here, and I’ll come back and make sure I’m slaughtered?”
I assumed he meant Starkad, another of Kirby’s lovers.
“Why are you here?” Magnus pushed.
Bragi turned his gaze on her, and a tangible layer of peace blanketed through the room. Enough that Fen stopped growling, though I still felt the tension running through him where his arm pressed into mine.
And this was why Bragi was dangerous.
“If you want to talk, turn it off,” I said.
He shook his head. “I don’t actually have a death wish. But I’ll stop at this. You have my word.”
“That’s not worth much.” Purple-black scales covered Dahlia’s body, reflecting the neon behind the bar and making her look like she was glowing with the same kind of light.
Bragi tilted his head to one side and studied her. “I’m hurt. I’ve let a lot of things happen over the years, participated in some, but I don’t lie.”
“You’ve deceived your colleagues on the board to be here.” That was a guess on my part, but when he told us where TOM was keeping Dahlia, he’d been very specific about not wanting them to know he was involved.
Bragi pulled out a nearby chair and dropped into it. He reclined, legs stretched out in front of him. “This is a no-win exchange. I point out that it suits my interests to let them think I’m still an ally, and you counter that I’ll only be your ally until it suits my interests. If I tell you we don’t all have sexy wolves watching our backs, you’ll remind me I could’ve had something similar. And if I remind you that I’m not the only one who’s hiding from the gods, and that you’ve been doing it a lot longer, you’ll let said wolf rip my throat out. Hear me out and I’ll give you answers, and then you can decide if I’m lying.”
“We already assume you’re lying. Didn’t we just have this part of the conversation?” Dahlia glanced at Magnus.
Who was as tense as everyone else, but why hadn’t I noticed that before? Whispers of lust—no, this was sweeter—flowed between Magnus and Bragi. It was heavily subdued, as if something—someone—was masking it from me, but it was there.
He was here because of her. That didn’t mean his motives were pure, but it helped. “We’re listening,” I said.
He gestured to the empty tables around him. “Join me?”
“No.” Kirby’s tone implied her answer was everyone’s.
Gwydion pulled out a seat across from Bragi.
“We’re listening.” I wasn’t sure how long that would last, but for now he had the room’s ear.
Bragi kicked back and put one boot on the table. I raised my brows and he dropped his feet to the floor again. “I signed on with TOM at a low point in my life,” he said. “Anyone who’s lived as long as we have, who feels anything, hits those spots on occasion.” He looked at Gwydion. Fen. Me.
Bragi had a point.
“And low point in your case meant watching the world burn?” Dahlia didn’t sound sympathetic.
“Are you really a dragon?” Bragi asked, instead of answering.
Dahlia hesitated. Not long, but enough it was noticeable. “Yes.”
“Your people predicted it. Whether or not I participate, the world will burn. Or freeze, there’s some debate about that. But thanks to TOM, a lot more people will die before and during.” There was a catch in Bragi’s voice. A twinge of… regret?
His words were a chilling reminder of the prophecies, though Dahlia had proven those weren’t always true. A detail that didn’t impact whether or not Bragi was willing to help extra people die.
Bragi crossed his arms. “So yes. My low point meant I wanted to see more suffering.”
“That’s fucked.” Kirby spoke with disdain.
“I’m a fucked-up dude. Not all of us get to press the reset button on life every time it gets sucky.”
Bragi wasn’t just talking about Kirby, though the words were almost certainly meant to sting her. He used to love a phoenix.
“I’m here”—Bragi’s tone shifted toward serious—“because I’ve had a change of heart. I no longer want to watch the gods destroy the good things in this world. There you have it. My big, underhanded reason.” He looked around the room. Was he expecting applause? Easy-going acceptance?
I couldn't be certain what the others were thinking, but I suspected it wasn't that much different from what raced through my mind.
"You're all reformed and good now?” Dahlia asked. “You woke up one day and decided oopsie. My bad. I’ll be good now."
Yes. She was thinking exactly the same thing I was.
“It wasn’t one day. A shift like that, in either direction, doesn’t happen overnight. Don’t pretend I’m the only person in this room who has sins to atone for.” Bragi looked at Gwydion. At Fen. “Mine are more recent, but we all start the path to redemption somewhere.”
“Why the change of heart?” Magnus’s question wasn’t as harsh as everyone else’s. The difference was subtle, but with the animosity in the room, it was distinct.
Bragi had yet to give her much attention. “That’s for me to know—a god has to have a few secrets. But I’ll tell you other things.”
“We’re listening, but you have yet to say anything useful,” Dahlia said.
If this conversation was going to take this kind of time, I wanted another drink. I moved behind the bar and started pouring.
“Do you think it’s a coincidence that all three of you—Kirby, Magnus, Dahlia—were brought into TOM, and became more? That Brit is what she is? What are the odds of that?” Bragi looked at Dahlia.
“I assume you don’t want the boring details.” This time there was no hesitation in her reply. “Very low.” She spoke with the kind of confidence she’d been missing lately. “But not everyone we grew up with is immortal. Or has the potential. Or will ever achieve it, because they’re dead.” She finished on a harsh note.
I handed her a vodka and Red Bull, then passed out another round of drinks to everyone, including one for Bragi.
He raised his glass and tipped his head in thanks. “You’re mostly correct. Did you ever meet a TOM soldier who didn’t have the potential to become more?”
“How would I—”
“Have you?” Bragi cut her off.
What was he trying to get from her? What did he need to prove?
Dahlia shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m not a people person, so I never spent a lot of time talking to most of the other soldiers. Besides, Nobles killed Potentials.”
“You do know.” Bragi set a now-empty beer stein on the table with a thunk. “You already have the answer. Why won’t you say it? It can’t be that you’re afraid. Nobles don’t do fear.”
“Enough,” I bit off the word at the same time Magnus did, and Fen strode toward Bragi.
“No.” Dahlia’s answer stopped Fen from picking Bragi up by the neck. Her voice was clear and direct. “No, I never met a TOM soldier who didn’t have the potential to be more. And no, you do not get to tell me what I can and can’t feel.”
I swore her presence filled the room, though she still looked the same. I adored her regardless, but in this moment she was glorious.
Bragi smirked. “Every god on the board, every student, every soldier, every Noble, is part of TOM for a reason.”
“Why are you there? Besides wanting to watch the world burn?” Fen asked.
Bragi narrowed his eyes and focused on Fen. “Do you want to find out?”
“No.” I wasn’t having that. Physical meets psychological? Bad idea.
“Vidar can find them,” Bragi said. “Someone with Vidar’s blood, who also happened to be a dragon who came into her power and was having visions, who had an affinity for the things the modern world worships, could find them better.”
“Holy shit.” Magnus stared at Dahlia, her mouth agape. “You really did build Cerebro.”
“I told you. Wait. You know who I am.” Dahlia focused on Bragi.
He straightened in his seat and leaned forward. “I didn’t know, but I’d made assumptions based on the way Vidar feels about you—not good, by the way, I’m sorry—and now I know. Every single one of you is a threat to TOM’s goal. Dahlia is a threat specifically to Vidar.”
“And you’re telling us this because…?” Fen trailed off.
“I don’t want the world to end. We already covered that.” Though Bragi never looked in her direction, the tug toward Magnus flickered stronger for a heartbeat before being muted. “Now you have the information. What you do with it is up to you.”
“Well?” Fen looked at Kirby.
She shrugged. “Well, what? We’ve got your back, but this is Dahlia’s gift.”
“But you and your Rescue Rangers have a lot of experience with this finding potentials stuff,” Fen said.
Dahlia and Magnus winced.
Kirby scowled. “My what? There’s no way you made that nickname up.”
“What?’ Dahlia asked lightly. “It’s appropriate.”
Kirby rolled her eyes. “As long as I get to be Gadget.”
Magnus clucked. “I mean… Brit’s got a rounder ass. Do you really think you could pull off Gadget?”
“How did the three of you get anything done in school?” Gwydion asked.
Like that, Kirby’s irritation vanished behind a smirk. “We didn’t. That’s why we’re not there anymore.”
“You’re just worried we think you’re Monterey Jack,” Dahlia said.
Magnus shook her head. “We don’t. You’re totally Dale.”
“Pft.” Gwydion looked unfazed. “Carry on, then.”
If I hadn’t lived dozens of lifetimes, and acquired a firm acceptance of not understanding most pop culture references, I’d be as frustrated as I was lost right now. Still, I was pretty sure this group had just become squirrels, not chipmunks. “Why is Vidar afraid of Dahlia?” The moment the question passed my lips, I wondered if someone would try to turn it into a riddle.
“Loki was the recruiter. Hel was the… instructor—“
“A.K.A. The brainwasher,” Kirby cut Bragi off.
He gave her the briefest glance before continuing. “Vidar no longer has the support structure to recruit the people he finds. If Dahlia were to get to them first, if someone were to tell them be yourself, have fun with life because you may just become immortal… Vidar would be unable to maintain an army.”
“Oh, God.” Kirby made a gagging gesture. “It’s like a bad after school special. Just be yourself to defeat evil.”
Bragi pursed his lips and pushed to his feet. “Thank you for reminding me I didn’t miss the sarcasm. Now that you have a good idea of why Dahlia’s a target, I offer one of my philosophies as a parting gift—get him before he gets you. As you wacky ladies say—I’m out.”
Great. He’d brought us answers—motive, goals—but that didn’t get us any closer to how to deal with the situation.
Twelve
Fenrir
So much talking for so little information. It hadn’t made me bitey, but I did need a nap. Unfortunately, I needed one more piece of information, too. “How are we supposed to find Vidar?”
Bragi paused and looked at me. “You have a woman on your side who can sense where people are.”
“Not with a lot of accuracy,” Dahlia said. “Something tells me he won’t be easy to find.”
“You’re not trying hard enough. I’ve played this conversation out. Everything I’ve told you so far, you can verify on your own. If I tell you where Vidar is, why would you trust me? If you did decide to trust me, and you went after him and he wasn’t there, you’d trust me less. Or if things went sideways, I’d hate that.”
He was right about one thing—I didn’t believe him. “Would you really?”
“I would.” Bragi’s smile was tight. “Good night.” He strolled out the door.
Kirby kicked out the chair next to Gwydion and dropped into it like a rag doll. “Have I mentioned how much I hate the fucking gods?” she blew out a raspberry.
“Not in the last twelve hours. Might be a new record for you.” Gwydion’s voice was light as he squeezed her knee.
“He’s not as bad as most of them.” Magnus sounded subdued.
The fun atmosphere that was here before Bragi walked in had vanished, disintegrated in the grind of new information. “What do we want to do now?” I asked.
“Nothing’s really changed, has it?” Dahlia opened her laptop again. “We were looking for Vidar before, we’re looking for him now. He’s still the target.”
I sat next to her, searching for the right words to help raise her spirits. What popped into my head was a good indicator of how much time I’d been spending with this group lately. “You know what you should do? When you find Vidar, you should choke him on a dick.”
Her almost laugh was worth it. “Not quite the way the phrase works.”
“No, I think he’s onto something.” Magnus sat on Dahlia’s other side. “But I say we take it one step further and make Vidar choke on his own dick.”
At the sound of wooden chair legs scraping on the floor, I half-turned in my seat to see Kirby straightening up. “Nuh-uh. He deserves to choke on a bag of dicks.”
“A bag of his own dicks,” Gwydion said. “We’ll magically clone them. He can gag on the entire sack.”
Magnus snorted. “You said sac.”
“What about a bag of dicks wrapped in used condoms?” Frey said.
The look Gwydion gave him was withering.
Frey stared back with a deep frown. “After all that, you’re going to tell me I went too far?”
“We still have to find Vidar.” Dahlia slouched on her bar stool. “He’s likely not even in this realm. He’s got that fucking dragon-slash-fae magic. Enough of it to hide an entire campus.”
I didn’t like seeing her defeated. “A campus you found.”
“By mistake.” She clenched her fists.
“But that still means that you’re capable. You went to Artura to find out how to control it. How did that go?” I asked.
Dahlia clenched her jaw and stared me down. “It didn’t. She told me I’m a useless dragon because I refuse to accept that I am indeed a dragon. And she’s right.” As Dahlia spoke, her voice grew louder. “Why would I want to be one of them? Worse, why would I want anything to do with any power I got from Vidar? Of course I’m in fucking denial about dragons being nothing like I imagined. About being related to one of the worst things to ever happen to me. Why would I want to embrace that?” She finished with a shout, her chest heaving and her nostrils flared.
“Let’s take a break.” Frey’s voice cut through the heavy tension in the room. “Dahlia can let her scripts run, we can all get some rest, and we can talk in a few hours.”
Everyone else mumbled their agreement, and Frey showed Magnus, Kirby, and Gwydion upstairs to rooms they could stay in.
When they were gone, I covered Dahlia’s hand with mine, stroking the side of her fist until she relaxed it. “I’ve known so many people across the centuries,” I said quietly. “And I’ve never met anyone who was as in tune with current tech as you are.”
“So?” She let out a weak laugh.
“So what you were showing us before? That’s brilliant technology, and you reconstructed it from the ground up in just a few hours. Set it up to run those automated searches you’re so good at, and walk away for a few hours.”
“But…” Dahlia sighed. “What about…?”
“It doesn’t matter. Whatever you’re about to ask, it will wait. The only thing you have to do right now is set up those… ants.”
“Spiders. They’re called spiders.” Her tone had lightened a shade.
I squeezed her hand and placed it on the keyboard. “Set up your spiders. Because no one is better at that.”
Dahlia nodded, and tentatively tapped a few keys. Within seconds, her fingers were flying across the keyboard, the soft glow of her screen illuminating her pale skin.
I couldn’t help but watch her work. She was such a fascinating creature—still fragile despite the immortality, but infinitely strong as well. Brilliant. Compassionate. Fierce. The way my heart swelled when I looked at her was startling and incredible.
