Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Tyr jumped to the first floor from the landing. The ground shook beneath him and he headed straight for the kitchen, where he whipped open a cupboard, ripping it from its hinges, and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. He gripped a glass, but it shattered in his hand onto the floor.

Dammit!

He grabbed a second glass, careful not to break that one as well, and poured whiskey to the top. He gulped it down and filled it a second time, downing that one as well.

A bat. Someone hit Celeste with a bat. Not once, but over and over and over.

He gripped the glass too hard, and the second one shattered.

“Son of a?—”

Hermódr and Vidar’s laughter and joking preceded their footsteps ascending the stairs.

Tyr sucked in a harsh breath and fought the rage coursing through his body. He stared at the bottle of whiskey and fought the urge to down the entire thing. His vision darkened further, and the dark pinkish haze that tinged his vision previously turned completely red. Calm down. He had to calm down. Even though Frigg had placed magic on his house to keep his emotions from bleeding into the Underworld, or worse, Midgard, it didn’t mean he could afford to keep breaking things. And being angry as well as drunk in front of Celeste was not the way to instill trust.

“Tyr!” Hermódr called. “Who’s the little cloaked thing you left with?”

“Yeah,” said Vidar. “You holding out on us? You have a hottie you’ve been hiding?”

“Bet she’s upstairs right now, isn’t she? In the guestroom. Waiting for you to come back and take advantage of her”

“Is she hot? Tell me she’s hot.”

Tyr hurled the whiskey bottle across the room at them. “Haltu kjafti!”

Herm ducked, but Vid caught the bottle before it hit him in the face.

Vid and Herm looked at each other. Tyr took several deep breaths, and they walked slowly forward. He fought against the wave of emotion, which threatened to burst from him. If he let go now, who knew what damage he’d do to the house. His fists shook as he slammed them on the granite counter, making it shake.

Vid set the bottle on the island and scanned the scene.

Herm rounded the counter and picked up Tyr’s hand. A jagged shard of glass stuck out of his palm. Blood dripped down his arm. Tyr hadn’t even noticed. Herm pulled the glass from Tyr’s hand and then led him to the sink and ran it under the cool water.

Tyr hissed and gritted his teeth against the sting. His vision darkened further, and his blood pounded. He wanted to find something, someone, to hurt, maim, kill…

Vid set his meaty hands on Tyr’s shoulders. He moved in so close his body pressed against Tyr’s. He breathed in deep, and Tyr mimicked him. The three stood together, none of them speaking for several minutes as Vid breathed with Tyr, and Herm cleaned Tyr’s wound and then put a bandage on it.

When Herm finished, he put one of his hands on Tyr’s shoulder, and Vid removed one of his hands to rest it on Herm’s shoulder instead.

Tyr closed his eyes. Images bombarded him. Blood. War. Death. Bodies torn and bleeding at his hand. He fought against the rage wanting to be unleashed.

For over a thousand years, the three of them had fought side by side. No one knew him better. No one he trusted more. And no one who had learned how to calm him the way they had.

Which was why they didn’t pry. They simply stood with him, lending their support and focusing on him.

After what seemed like an hour, Tyr took a deep breath and opened his eyes. His vision cleared, and the wave of rage dissipated. He nodded to Vid and Herm, and without another word, the two began moving around the kitchen.

Vid grabbed spray and a towel and wiped Tyr’s blood from the counter and floor. Herm removed the broom from the pantry and swept up the broken glass.

Tyr moved to the edge of the bar and dropped onto a stool. He didn’t speak for several minutes and then finally said, “The girl I left with is upstairs. Her name is Celeste.”

Both stopped.

“It’s not what you think. I didn’t bring her here to bed her. I brought her here to protect her.”

“You brought her here?” said Hermódr. “You never bring a client here.”

Tyr nodded. He’d never brought anyone to their house. “Do you remember the demon who helped me out a couple decades back? The one who could read minds?”

“Sylax,” said Vid.

Tyr cocked an eyebrow. It surprised him that Vid remembered his name.

“The girl upstairs is his daughter. She’s been injured. Badly.”

“Not by Sy…”

“Absolutely not. Sy asked me specifically to keep her safe. So, I am. I don’t know yet who hurt her, but…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. His meaning hung in the air. If Sy didn’t deal with the man who’d hurt Celeste, Tyr sure would.

Tyr stared at the bottle of whiskey for a long minute and listened to the sounds of Hermódr and Vidar cleaning. After Vid dropped the glass shards into the trash and put away the broom, he sat next to Tyr.

“How bad is it?”

Tyr shook his head. “Her face is such a mess it’s hard to tell for sure without a closer inspection. He hit her with a metal bat all over her body. Who knows what is broken? Her cheek, for sure. Her eye socket. And one arm and at least two fingers. Probably ribs. And her legs barely hold her weight so maybe something there. I counted at least half a dozen burns on her arm. They resembled cigar burns.”

Her sapphire eye with red tinged edges swam in his mind, and he grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took two gulps.

“Shit.” Herm leaned against the counter opposite them. “What are we going to do about it?”

Tyr shook his head. “Sy’s dealing with it. He only wants her protected.”

“We should take her to a doctor,” offered Vid.

“She won’t go. She said she should heal quickly. I’m still concerned and…”

“And?”

“I need to see the extent of her injuries to know if I should call someone, but I’m not sure she’ll show me. After the way I left her, she’s probably as scared of me as she is of the guy who did it.” He shook his head, not understanding his visceral reaction. He’d seen women injured before. Beaten and battered. And it had inflamed him. Incensed him. Caused him to want retribution. But nothing, nothing had caused such an uncontrollable reaction like the one he experienced.

“I barely controlled the rage at seeing what had been done to her.”

“If you explain, she’ll understand,” said Vid.

Tyr ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t want to push her, but I need to at least monitor her healing over the next twenty-four hours.”

“Tell her that.”

“I will, I just?—”

A blood-curdling shriek sounded from upstairs.

Tyr leapt out of his chair and jumped to the upper floor walkway. He ran for his bedroom and punched in the code. He grabbed the knife from his boot and pressed a button on the side of it as he raced into the room. His knife lengthened in his hand to a full-sized golden flaming sword. Tyr scanned the room.

Celeste sat on the bed, clutching a pillow and using it as a shield. Above her, a giant falcon flapped its wings, talons out, ripping at the pillow.

White feathers sailed in every direction. Tyr dropped his sword and rushed forward.

“Yegret! Yegret! Stop!” He stepped between the bird and Celeste and covered Celeste with his body.

Yegret slashed his back, tearing into his shirt and burning his skin with a deep cut.

“Yegret,” yelled Hermódr. “Bed!”

“Come on, you senile bird,” said Vidar. “Get in your cage.” Vid opened the door to Yegret’s enclosure. “Freak, when are you going back to Valhalla? I tell you, pets should not live this long, even ones belonging to gods.”

Tyr let go of Celeste. “Are you alright? Did she hurt you?”

Celeste shook her head, breathing heavily, her face pale as his comforter. A trickle of sweat rolled down Celeste’s cheek.

“Are you sure?”

“She just scared me.”

Celeste clutched his t-shirt. She looked at her hands and let go immediately.

“Sorry.”

“No reason to be.”

The sound of Yegret’s cage being locked pulled his attention. Vid and Herm looked between him and Celeste. She turned away and lifted her cloak to cover her face.

“Celeste, you don’t need to do that here.”

She peeked out at the two men.

“This is Hermódr, messenger to the gods.”

“And a god myself.” Herm gave a flourishing bow. “At your service.”

Vid elbowed him in the ribs, and Herm straightened and grabbed his side. “Ouch! What the Freya did you do that for?”

Vid growled. “Don’t take my mother’s name in vain, you little twat.”

Herm burst out laughing. “Twat? Seriously? That’s the best you came up with?”

“Knock it off,” Tyr said too loudly. Celeste flinched, and he took a moment to gather himself.

“Sorry about him,” said Vid. “He’s more the god of prepubescent boys than anything else. He has the mentality of a twelve-year-old.”

“Hey,” said Herm. “That’s so rude. I have the mentality of at least an eighteen-year-old. Ask any of the women I’ve been with. They say?—”

“No one cares,” interrupted Vid. “I’m Vidar, God of Vengeance. And now I will be taking this one to have a little timeout in his big boy room.”

Without another word, Vid slung a massive arm over Herm’s shoulder and forcibly moved him toward the door.

“Wait.”

The men stopped.

“See, Tyr doesn’t want me to go,” Herm ducked out from under Vid’s arm.

Celeste wore a perplexed expression. “As juvenile as they seem, they are my best friends and brothers to me. We’ve been together for thousands of years. I trust them with my life. They’re the only two men I will allow near you while you are in my care. But never, ever, will they touch you. On my honor be it.”

Hermódr and Vidar bowed to Celeste. “On our honor be it,” they said together.

Celeste’s perplexed expression turned to something akin to amusement.

“Celeste is a telepath like Sy,” Tyr continued. “I would like you to consent to let her read you both for her peace of mind. You don’t have to, but if you don’t, I won’t be able to let you near her for any reason.”

Vid and Herm shrugged.

“Sure. Just don’t judge me too harshly if you see anything personal in there,” said Herm.

Vid snorted. “What? Like porn?”

“HBO isn’t porn, bro.”

“Naked people. Having sex. Porn.”

“It’s fantasy.”

“Yeah, your fantasy. Orgies with half a dozen women.”

Herm looked wistful and sighed. “I miss the old days. What can I say?”

“Enough,” said Tyr. “You two are so embarrassing.”

“You always say that,” replied Herm.

“And I never lie.” He turned to Celeste. “Sorry about them. They may both act like teenagers in a frat house, but they are excellent at their jobs. And they can be serious when they need to be. You can read them to be sure, though.”

“It’s okay. I don’t need to. I trust you.”

She did? Interesting.

Tyr stared at her for a moment as she tried to open the eye, which had been swollen shut an hour or so before. His gut clenched as she tried to focus on him with both eyes.

Once again, something inside stirred, and he couldn’t get Herm and Vid out of the room fast enough. “Okay, you two get out.”

Vid and Herm started to leave when Vid turned back. “Are you guys hungry? I can cook something.”

Tyr looked at Celeste.

“I can’t chew.”

“Her jaw is broken.”

“I can heat some broth. I have homemade bone broth in the fridge. It’s essential for mending and regaining strength.”

Tyr nodded. “Thanks, Vid.”

“What about you,” asked Herm. “You want something?”

“I’ll eat later.”

The two nodded and exited his room.

Tyr turned back to Celeste. “They can be mature when they want to be.”

She gave a soft, lopsided smile, and the split in her lip opened and wept. Tyr grabbed the towel from the nightstand and pressed it to her mouth. She reached out and touched his hand, turning it over.

“That wasn’t there before.”

“Yeah… I… uh… had an accident in the kitchen with a glass. Glasses are so fragile. I’m more used to metal tankards, so sometimes I forget my strength.”

She ran her fingers over the bandage lightly and then pulled away.

Her touch left a trail of sparks on his palm, and Tyr fought for something to say. “I’m sorry about all of this. It isn’t the impression I wanted to make, I can assure you. With those two, as well as with me almost losing my temper. I promise it wasn’t anything you did. I just… sometimes I have a hard time controlling it. Even after all this time. And about Yegret?—”

“I get it. She was protecting you and your space.”

He looked over at Yegret in her twenty-foot-long, built-in glass enclosure. “I’ve never let anyone else in my room before. It was stupid of me not to think of it. I open the window for her every evening to come back in after she’s gone for a flight. I just…” Just what? Almost lost himself to bloodlust and left to compose himself? Yeah, that would instill confidence.

“No harm done.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m thoughtless or careless. That isn’t the case.”

“I don’t. Truly.”

He stared at her for a moment. Even with the bruises and cuts, she was pretty. But there was something else. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. Something about her that made him more protective than of anyone he’d met before.

“I should check your injuries and monitor how they are healing over the next couple of days to make sure we don’t need to take you to a doctor.”

Celeste stared at him as if trying to decide.

Finally, she nodded. “All right.”

He had no idea where to start. He decided her face was the best and most convenient place.

He scooted closer and brushed several strands of dark hair from her skin. Then he carefully turned her chin to inspect the more damaged side. Her cheekbone had swollen at least two times the normal size. The split had scabbed over, and there didn’t seem to be an infection. Her eye was puffed shut, her lip bled every time she moved it, and the towel did no good. He opened the kit, pulled out a styptic pencil, and dabbed it on the cut.

“I am hoping this will help you heal quicker. It should at least keep it from bleeding whenever you move your lips.”

He applied some salve over top of the cut and then moved on to the other side of her face. She studied him, and he tried not to focus on it as he cleaned a smaller cut on her cheek that bore the resemblance to a round ring with a crest on it.

A set of deep bruises on her throat resembled a handprint.

Tyr gritted his teeth.

“Are you all right?”

“He choked you.”

She glanced away.

“You must tell me who did this. Your father said he would handle it, but you have to tell me.”

Her eyes sparkled with flecks of anger, and then she blinked, and the flecks swept away. “I’m too tired tonight.”

Tyr wanted to press her. To make her give him the name so he could find the man and exact justice for what had been done.

“I… I should check the rest of your body as well.”

“I’ll let you check my top half, but my bottom half is equally as bruised. Nothing broken. And he didn’t cut me or burn me down there.”

Tyr wanted to ask if he’d done anything else to her… down there.

“He didn’t violate me. If he had… well… let’s say that my father would be the least of his problems.”

Tyr didn’t ask her to explain.

“I won’t be able to get my shirt over my head, so you’ll have to cut it off me . Preferably not with the flaming sword burning a hole in your carpet.”

Shit. Tyr jumped up and grabbed his sword. He pushed a ruby on the side and the blade retracted, becoming a pocketknife once more.

Damn. He needed to replace the carpet. Again.

Tyr held the pocketknife out to her.

She took it and rolled it in her palm.

Why had he done that? In the thousand years he’d owned the sword, he’d never once let someone else touch it. So why had he handed it over to her so willingly?

“Impressive.”

“You are impressive.”

Her brow crinkled.

“I have no clue how you aren’t a shaking, terrified mess. I’ve seen grown men go through less than you did and not mentally come out the other side. But you…”

“Me?”

Tyr didn’t know what to say to her. She what? Too calm? Too put together? Too…

A strange sensation settled in Tyr’s gut. Something he’d never experienced before. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but somehow, her tough persona made him want to protect her all the more.

She blinked her good eye, and Tyr cleared his throat.

“Uh… Can I see your arm?”

“Okay.”

He slid his hand up her forearm to her elbow, where the cuff of her shirt ended. He slipped the edge of his knife under the fabric and, in one swift movement, sliced up to her shoulder. As the fabric parted, he hissed.

She exhaled and relaxed. “Oh my gosh, that feels so much better. I thought the tightness was just my arm.”

He shook his head. “It’s from the swelling and compression of the shirt.” Her arm was most definitely fractured above the elbow. Her entire upper arm looked like someone had painted it black and purple and had blown it up like an over-inflated balloon.

Odin help him to be strong.

He reached into his container, pulled out an ace bandage, and wrapped her entire arm. Then he cut the rest of her shirt away, leaving her in a sports bra.

Thank Valhalla, her breasts remained covered.

He went to the linen closet and pulled out a sheet. He ripped a strip off it and used it to put her arm in a makeshift sling.

“It’s not the best job, but it will stabilize your arm at least. You should wear it for a few days. A week would be better.”

She nodded.

He treated the burns on her other arm and then turned his attention to her ribs. Her entire right side was the color of the night sky. As he slid his arms around her to wrap her torso in another ace bandage, his skin heated, and goosebumps rose up his arms.

He told himself to stop. He was being ridiculous. How many men and women had he bandaged in his lifetime, thousands? What was wrong with him that the mere brush of her skin on his made his body react like it was the first time he’d ever been touched by a female? Ridiculous. Not to mention unprofessional as well as impractical.

Vidar arrived with the broth as Tyr finished. Tyr set the mug with a straw on the nightstand, then got Celeste a glass of water and handed her two pain pills.

“I don’t need them. I’m going to sleep.”

He held them out to her, anyway. She’d rest better if the pain eased somewhat. She took them and popped them into her mouth. He held the glass for her as she took several considerable swallows.

He put away the supplies and then returned to the bed. Her eyelids drooped as he lifted the broth to her lips and placed the straw in her mouth. She took several sips.

“Why do you wear a glove?”

“I lost my hand a long time ago. I had it replaced. My replacement scares some people, so I find it’s easier to wear a glove.”

She took another sip. “Where did you lose it?”

He scrunched up his forehead. “You mean, how did I lose it?”

“No. I want to know where you lost it. Did you go back and search for it? Do you think it might still be there if you went and searched now? You are immortal, after all. So is your hand immortal, too?”

He stared at her for a moment, and a small smile crept across her lips.

“You’re kidding. After everything you’ve been through, you are joking?”

She shrugged and then winced. “He tried to break my body, but the fact that he couldn’t break my mind frustrated him the most. To me, it was everything, though. My bones will heal. My cuts will fade. But my mind is my real weapon. It’s what I hold dearest. It’s the one thing I can never let anyone break. Because the day they do, I’m dead.”

Tyr had no words.

She sipped the broth. “So, how did you lose the hand?”

Tyr licked his lips. “I betrayed a friend, so he bit it off.”

“That’s terrible. You must hate him.”

“Not at all. What I did was horrible. What he did was purely instinctual. I don’t blame him any more than you can blame a Yegret for trying to protect my space.”

She licked her lips and took another sip, but the mug was empty. “You’ll have to tell me the whole story sometime.”

He nodded. “As soon as you tell me who did this to you and why.”

She gave him a soft smile as her eyes closed. “Deal.”

Tyr stood and set the mug on the nightstand before helping her slide down and covering her with the comforter.

He propped her broken arm up on a pillow. “If you need me, call, and I’ll come right away.”

“Where will you be?”

“Not far. Get some sleep. You are safe here. Do you want me to close the windows and lock down the shutters?”

“No.” Her eyes flashed with fear and Tyr filed the information away to ask her about later. “I… I appreciate being able to see outside.”

“The windows are unbreakable, and there is security around the property, the house, and the windows. If anything bigger than a fly tries to get in, I’ll be alerted.”

Tyr picked up the mug and walked to the door.

“Tyr?”

He turned.

“Thank you,” she said sleepily.

Tyr inclined his head and then walked out. He watched the door slide closed and caught a glimpse of her curled up in his bed.

Again, the strange sensation stirred in his gut, and a thought flashed through his mind that troubled him.

He liked her being in his bed.