Loki's Gambit, page 222
part #1 of I Bring the Fire Series
“They didn’t bestow the title on me willingly,” Dare responded.
“Well, who did bestow your title?” Penny asked.
“Well, if it isn’t Odin’s lackey,” Aurel says.
“Ah, well, hello, Prince Aurel, we meet again, Your Highness,” Dare says, holding his hands above his head, not feigning the dread in his voice. Normally, with most Night Elves on Earth, it is a case of a Night Elf bonding, and merely wanting to remain with his or her lover; they can be reasoned with. Sometimes, accommodations can even be made.
“Nothing else in his boots,” someone says. Dare had stuffed Nor’s pistol in it—a ridiculous thing to do in normal circumstances—but he wanted to be sure his boots were off for this—it puts his skin closer to contact with the magical wiring. Also, he didn’t want what he’s sure is an unregistered weapon found on Penny.
“So, Rayne got your burn patched up,” Prince Aurel hisses. “That traitor.”
Shrugging, Dare hangs his head. He’s found he often doesn’t have to make excuses for the “accidents” that he triggers. His enemies make up explanations for themselves.
“And the idiot came back,” Desmelda says. She is the Night Elf that Penny described in the most detail—and Dare had recognized her from that description alone. Dare had met her when he’d been called to the Night Court after his sojourn on Earth in the forties. Desmelda, young by Night Elf standards, had listened with rapt attention as he had described human technology and quizzed him beyond his capability to respond on everything from biology to physics and air-conditioning to atom bombs. Low-born, she’d only been a handmaiden of a lesser lady at the time. He can see how she’d be tempted to serve Aurel.
Dare shrugs again. “I have to do my job.”
“No, you don’t,” Aurel says. “You can join us. You can be strong and unbonded. You can live forever as is your birthright!”
“You’ve been killing humans,” Dare says, and he hears a few of the Night Elves shift on their feet. They’re uncomfortable with that … the dead were probably like Chantilly, accidentally bonded. Aurel could not abide by blood bonds; they would be threats to his control.
“They were only humans,” says Aurel.
“But we don’t have to keep killing!” someone says. “They give willingly at—”
“Silence,” says Aurel.
Dare sighs at the almost-mention of the blood bank. It had disgusted him, but he had envisioned something even more sinister than what they found at LifeBlood. Historically, to avoid bonding, a group of Night Elves would feast simultaneously on hosts. Dare has never been sure if it is a matter of quantity of blood consumed that prevented the bond, or if there was some other biological process at work. It might be, as Gretta had hypothesized, purely psychological. She’d likened the mass feedings to gang rapes that stripped love from an otherwise intimate act.
“Humans have died,” Dare says, not lifting his head. “They are sentient humanoids and deserve to be treated as such.”
He hears some laughs around the room, but also some intakes of breath. Some feel guilty; some know what they did is wrong.
“Rubbish,” says Aurel, and Dare can hear the laughter in his voice.
Dare’s ears tremble with rage, but he tells himself it is good if Aurel is amused—he’ll let Dare keep talking.
Dare takes a deep breath, and when he speaks, his voice quavers. “Even if you can not bring yourselves to respect humans, you must know that there are too few of us to battle the All Father’s forces.”
“He’s too busy with the unrest in Svartalfheim to care, Dare,” says Aurel, his voice still bemused.
Still holding his hands above his head, Dare’s fingers bite into his palms. Aurel is right. Odin’s people are overwhelmed, and probably can’t come … or at least not until other humans die. That makes his choice here more stark.
He tries to reach them once more. “Even if he is, there are over seven billion humans.” Penny had given him the number when he’d run his plan by her. He can hardly believe it himself. “If we abuse their goodwill, they’ll destroy us.”
Aurel laughs. “They’re malleable! A few words here and there—”
Dare lifts his eyes to Desmelda. “Desmelda, I know that you created the blood horchata machines and are using computers.” He knows because Prince Aurel is powerful, but too inflexible, impatient, and arrogant to stoop to learning the intricacies of human technology. Desmelda is low-born, young, and her magic is but a flicker, but she is smart and curious.
“Blood horchata machines?” Aurel says with a laugh. “What are you talking about?”
Desmelda understands; he can see it in how she takes a step back. Dare presses her. “You know you cannot continue this way. You wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble to safely harvest blood if you didn’t know that killing would lead to our destruction.”
“This isn’t fun to me anymore,” Aurel exclaims. “I think it’s time to come up with an entertaining way to kill you, Dare. Maybe we should drain him like we did the humans?”
Dare feels cold fear grip his heart. “Surrender to me, face Odin’s judgment, and you may live.”
Aurel breaks out into cackles. “Oh, this is getting entertaining again.”
Dare meets the eyes of the others. He recognizes them, even if he doesn’t know their names. “Please,” he says. Some shake their heads—they’re afraid to stand against Aurel. None are powerful enough to use compulsion to make a security guard forget about them, or convince a police officer that a scrap of paper is a valid source of identification, or maybe they’re afraid to lose access to blood while they await the results of Dare’s petition to Odin. But others just laugh.
The cold grip of fear turns to terror, and Dare begs them, “Do it because it is the right thing! Do it because there are so few of us!”
“You’ve let Odin’s appointment of your Countship go to your head,” Aurel exclaims, stepping closer to Dare. “Draining will be such a good way to kill you, and so fitting since you identify so much with the humans.” He reaches out toward Dare’s chin, and Dare takes a step back in dread.
“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Aurel says.
Dare feels his stomach constrict … he’s being left no choice.
From behind Dare comes the sound of footsteps, and the four guards from below enter the office. “We cleared the human stragglers from below, Prince Aurel.”
The prince turns away. “What?”
“On your orders, Your Highness,” the leader of the guard says.
“I didn’t order that!” cries Aurel.
“Prince Aurel!” Desmelda exclaims.
Dare spins toward her. Her eyes are wide and on him. “It’s Dare,” she whispers. “Dare compelled the guard.”
And it’s too late. What he feared most now must happen. If they realize how threatening he is, their guard will rise, and he’ll be doomed. They’ll kill him, probably Penny next, Todd and Emma for good measure, and even his family spread through the realms will not be safe. Flexing his toes in the thick carpeting, Dare feels the magic flowing through the building flowing into him. What he has to do he wouldn’t normally be able to manage, but the magic in the prince’s lair and Penny’s blood give him power. Dare imagines the molecules in the metal of the sprinklers starting to dance.
“Nonsense,” says Aurel. “Dare is weak, he has no aura—”
The sprinklers cut on, showering cold water through the room, soaking everyone except Dare instantly, and then they just keep spraying.
“What is this?” Aurel exclaims.
“He did it,” Desmelda shrieks, stepping back. “I know it … I know it!”
“Impossible!” shouts Aurel.
Dare’s aura is invisible. Dare closes his eyes and imagines the water molecules splitting. He feels a sort of snap within him as the molecules break apart, and then he sets the hydrogen and oxygen atoms spilling into the room on fire.
Engine running, Penny fights the urge to drive over to The Cove as the fire engines pull up.
“If I set the building on fire, Penny, those loyal to Prince Aurel will believe it was faulty wiring that killed his followers.” Dare had frowned. “And I can destroy all of them at once without any more humans dying.”
She swallows. She doesn’t see anyone exiting the building. Dare had said it was better to attack during daylight.
“I’m sure they have discovered the magic of sunscreen, but I’m also sure they won’t have slept with it on. If they leave the building without me, they’ll burn.”
The lock on the passenger side door pops up. Dare is suddenly just there in the seat beside her, shutting the door, eyes glazed and unfocused.
He’s alone, and despite herself she feels terrible for him.
“I have to give them the opportunity to surrender to me, Penny,” he’d told her. “They all deserve trial; for all we know, some of them may be held against their will. Most probably can’t speak English outside the building’s magical sphere, and few would be able to get home without Rayne or Aurel.”
“They’re all … ” she says.
“They’re all dead.” Dare says flatly. “I shot Aurel a few times just to be safe.”
Penny puts them into drive, hardly believing it’s over.
They’ve passed the strip malls, pawnshops, and used car lots when Dare says, “Aurel almost touched me. I wonder … if I had let him … would he have realized …”
Penny’s mind supplies the rest of the words. Dare had said that most magical creatures can’t see his aura … but occasionally one has a talent for sensing truth, or just interacts with magic in a different way, and they realize instantly what he is capable of. What he is capable of, he'd told her when she'd tried to talk him out of his plan, is telekinesis, astral projection, fire, ice, healing, compulsion, strength, speed. But his greatest talent he said over and over is not being perceived as threatening.
Now Dare is asking if Aurel had touched him, would the prince have realized he was outgunned … or out hocus-pocused, or whatever. “No,” Penny says. “He’s an ass and he just would have killed you.” She suspects that Dare knows that at some level, but maybe it is a characteristic of lawful goodness to always question one’s motives?
They pass an intersection and then another.
Dare puts his hands down, and looks to the east. “It’s time for me to go home.”
Penny’s hands tighten on the wheel. “Are you sure—”
“It’s not good for either of us for me to stay,” Dare says, his voice tired. Penny feels her chest tighten and her eyes prickle, but she drives to Split Oak.
As soon as she cuts the engine, Dare is out of the car. She follows him through the tall trees. They walk only to the tune of birds, insects, and their own footsteps until they reach a place on the trail between two particularly large trees not far from the split oak that gives the area its name.
Dare stops in his tracks a few paces ahead of her. “It’s here.”
“I’m sorry,” Penny whispers. “I’m sorry I made you bond with me.” She has to say it before he disappears … or whatever. He hasn’t said it, but she knows he’s not coming back. Her eyes get hot. “I didn’t know.”
She doesn’t see Dare move, but he is suddenly there, his arms around her, his chin on the top of her head.
“I’m so sorry.” She sniffs and puts her arms around him. He’s really tall, and he’s strong. She wonders if this is what it would feel like to have a big brother.
“I’m not,” Dare says. “I would have died if you hadn’t saved me.”
“But it hurts you, I know it does,” Penny says. “I’ve been in your situation and it … it …”
“Shh …” Dare rocks her.
But Penny blubbers on, “And I like you, you’re funny, and great, and it’s just … just … just …”
Dare sighs. “I’m a count.” He pulls back, meets her eyes, and gently takes her chin. “And not a countess.”
The tears in Penny’s eyes spill over. It’s not something she’s very good at admitting to herself. She’d been told her whole life that people who love Jesus aren’t like her. Chantilly had guessed it, and hadn’t judged her. Her mother … well, she doesn’t feel safe telling her mother. Who knows what her dad would have said if he was still alive?
Dare wipes her tears away with the pad of his thumb. “I will be alright. It’s not the first time I’ve been rejected by a human.”
Penny sniffs. “I can’t imagine a normal girl not … ” She bites her lip and waves her hand. “ … with you.”
“First,” Dare says, wiping away another tear. “You’re not abnormal. Second, who says they were girls?”
Penny’s mouth sort of drops open.
Dare shrugs. “Elves are notoriously open anyway and Night Elves have to survive. Our evolution favors those who can be attracted to all humans.”
Penny rubs her elbow. She wishes she could be that way. She’d probably run off with Dare in a heartbeat. She’s two-thirds in love with him, her mind and her heart … it’s just her body getting in the way, and she really hates it.
They stare at each other a moment longer and then Dare folds her in his arms again. “But it is hard to let you go. I want to ask you back to Alfheim with me … to protect you and be your Count, even if I can’t be your lover.” He chuckles sadly. “It would be terrible for you. You wouldn’t be able to travel without an escort, you’d be virtually a prisoner, and for some reason, humans find the weather in my land depressing.”
And okay, maybe it’s good she’s not three-thirds in love with him. That does sound like a trap. “Lots of clouds and fog,” Penny guesses with a sniff.
“Precisely. Quite lovely.”
He rocks her slowly, and she wishes more than anything that he could stay. They could be besties, hang out, watch movies, check out girls together … well, maybe Dare would check out more than girls.
“Emma,” Dare says, and Penny goes completely still, “is a wonderful person.”
Penny feels herself get defensive. “Wonderful” is too small a word for Emma. She’s beautiful, sexy, kind, talented—
“So is Todd,” Dare adds.
Penny mutters, “I guess.” She knows it’s true, though.
Dare murmurs, “She wants to love you as she can … and so does Todd. They won’t think less of you for what you are, and when someone new comes into your life, it will be easier for you to let them love you … and you must. You have to make family where you can.”
Penny can’t imagine finding another woman as wonderful anytime soon, but he is right that they probably won’t turn her away for being gay. She’d thought that because they were Christians they would be like her mom, but they’re not. She swallows. “Okay,” she whispers and squeezes Dare tighter. She wishes he could stay. She has this feeling that Dare could take all her problems and turn them inside out and make them right … and if he wanted a nip every now and then, she wouldn’t mind. She wants to say all that, but has a feeling that it would just make saying goodbye that much harder, and she’d probably trip up and start to bawl. Instead she says, “I think you’ll always be my count.”
Dare squeezes her very tight. “Thank you.”
At last they pull apart. Gulping, Penny looks up at him and says, “What happens now?”
Dare touches her cheek. “Typically, I kiss you and you forget everything.”
Her skin heats, and her vision, already blurry with tears, gets even blurrier. “What? That’s not fair! Whose rule is that? I can’t forget you!” Knowing Dare helped her. It made her feel brave and good … maybe because he’s so good and loves her.
Before she can stop it, Dare ducks in and kisses her anyway. Penny is too shocked to move, and also, she has to admit, it’s a great kiss. She wishes she could hit the pause button and take notes, so that later when she kisses the woman of her dreams she’ll have the same technique.
He pulls away, and Penny blinks up at him quizzically. He’s still Dare the Night Elf, and they still spent the last two nights together.
Dare winks at her and backs away.
Penny does her best to frown. “Who are you?” she lies.
Dare stands between two tall trees and says, “Go home.”
“Don’t follow me, creeper!” she shouts, heading back to her car. She turns back to look once, but Dare’s already gone.
She gets to her car, and stops before she opens the door. The problem with lawful people—according to Dungeons & Dragons anyway—is they don’t always fight back when the laws are bad, and can’t change unless they’re forced too. Dare is wise and good … but he’s also wrong.
Epilogue
Penny walks along the trail at Split Oak, swinging her flashlight back and forth, trying to keep from stepping on a snake. “Come on, Dare, I can’t wait forever with a stolen van!” She bites her lip. She’s been here an hour and Dare hasn’t shown up. The LifeBlood blood van looks out of place in the recreation area parking lot … especially at 4 a.m..
“Dare!”
Over the thrumming noise of insects, she hears hoofbeats and turns around, and there is a dark shadow. Penny raises her flashlight and a black horse with glowing red eyes rears and whinnies in surprise. Atop the creature is Dare; he doesn’t lose his seat … of course he would be a good rider. Also, Penny supposes that good Night Elves probably ride on black horses … or whatever the horse-like creature is. He swings off the mount. “I heard you,” he says. He says it in a kind of funny voice, or maybe she’s misreading him.
“I have—” Penny starts to explain.
“The van from LifeBlood,” he finishes, calming his mount that’s stamping its feet, plastering its ears back and glaring at Penny. Dare shakes his head and scowls. “Loki left me a magic mirror that he should have given me before I came to Earth. It was able to tell me about your … adventure.”
“You have to take the horchata machines … and the van,” Penny says. To save his people … and also to keep her out of jail. She went to LifeBlood yesterday. She walked in the back way, claiming it was open. She gave blood so that her fingerprints will be all over the place and if she goofed anywhere, it will be really easy to explain away. Having the van in her possession would be more difficult to explain to the police.
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