Tracking the Bear (Blue Ridge Bears Book 1)(37)

“Oh, but you are funny. It’s a shame I have to kill you.”

“What?” Calder’s head jerked around and he stared at her in alarm. “The All-Father said there would be only one kill. Elmsong has to die, but the girl would become pack.”

“Well, that’s changed, hasn’t it?” Frigg said, bitterness creeping into her voice. “She’s a bear, thanks to that twice damned fool, Freyr, isn’t she?”

Calder shuffled from foot to foot. “But he is right, my lady, if he said what I believe he did. He is no ordinary bear. He is a lawman. He will be missed.”

“He will die,” Frigg said with a shrug. “They will appear to have been killed by the quarry they sought. Very tragic.”

“You really think they’ll buy that?” I mentally scoffed. “A medical examiner will be able to tell it was done by wolves.”

Her answering smile was so saccharine, I’d probably developed diabetes from being in the vicinity of it. “By the time your bodies are found, it will be impossible to tell.”

Unfortunately, that was probably true. Even in high traffic areas, it could take days or even weeks for bodies to be found. In an area as remote as this mountaintop, it could be months, possibly years before we were found.

She clucked her tongue. “No snappy retort? I thought you didn’t lose, Mr. Kassower?”

“Why?” I thought desperately. “Lucy has nothing to do with this.”

“No?” She raised a brow at me. “Did you know she’s been enlisted by the Vanir? I didn’t. But now that I do, I can’t simply let a Vanir challenger go. No matter how insignificant a pawn, I can’t allow her to disrupt our plans at this point.”

“Pawn?”

A lance of panic shot through me as a familiar voice carried to us. I struggled against Frigg’s power, which had suddenly doubled in intensity.

Lucy crested the hill. Despite the pain and the panic, I couldn’t help but stare. Her hair shimmered in the mid-afternoon sun like spun gold. Her eyes were like shards of ice in her perfect face. She was covered in mud, dried blood, and the deep circles beneath her eyes said she’d had about as much sleep as I had. She was so beautiful, I might have wept at the sight of her if I’d been human. My love, my mate. She was here. And insanely, her presence did make the press of Frigg’s power less painful.

Frigg’s hand clenched into a fist at her side. “Yes. You’re a pawn. Did you truly believe you were special somehow? Freyr is nearly as slippery as Loki. You’re foolish if you think you’re anything more than a means to an end.”

“I’m the means to end you.” And she let the object tucked beneath her arm fall. A black and white soccer ball tumbled end over end toward the ground. Just before it could touch the earth, Lucy pulled back one shapely leg and kicked the ball directly at Frigg’s head.

The Goddess sidestepped the attack, looking unfazed…until the ball grazed her champagne-colored hair and singed half off it off.

Frigg raised one shaking hand to feel the extent of the damage. “You’re going to pay for that, you little bitch,” she seethed.

The pressure on me abruptly disappeared as the Goddess gave Lucy her full attention. I wasn’t sure if Frigg had forgotten me in her fury, or if she assumed that I was in too much pain to move.

The latter was nearly true. Nausea still rose to choke me. I felt like I’d suffered a bad bout of the flu. All of my muscles ached, and it was an effort to roll onto my stomach. I had to resume human shape. If I did, the pain would lessen and I could help Lucy.

“I hope that little trick amused you,” Frigg said, advancing on Lucy. “Because your little toy is gone, and there’s nothing stopping me from snapping you like a twig.”

“Wrong.” The male voice that issued from the opposite side of the clearing was unfamiliar. Frigg spun to face the speaker. He was tall and broad, and even with his shaggy hair and beard, I recognized him from the pictures Lucy had shown me. Frigg only just spotted the soccer ball as it sailed toward her once more.

This time, the powerful kick landed a blow directly in Frigg’s middle. She doubled over, frantically batting the ball away from her stomach. It bounced away from her, back toward Lucy. There was a perfectly circular burn on the front of her dress.

Her flesh bubbled like grease in a pan and I got a sickening glimpse of her innards before her powers healed the worst of the damage.

Lucy caught the ball easily with the side of her foot. I waited for another sizzle, or maybe the smell of charred meat as the ball melted her flesh. Nothing happened. Lucy positioned herself for another shot and pelted toward Frigg.

The goddess stumbled back. Lucy hit her again, catching a glancing blow on her side. Time after time, Lucy ducked and dodged the goddess’s blasts of retaliation. Lances of power that tore furrows in the surrounding earth either seemed to glance off of her or miss her entirely. Meanwhile, she lined up shot after shot, burning holes in the goddess.

I thought I finally understood her goal. It wasn’t necessarily to kill Frigg. She’d made herself and her brother targets to draw Frigg’s fire. They were slowing her down. With every injury, she grew weaker. When she finally fell to the ground with a smoking hole in one calf, the siren call that had been her influence was faint enough I could shake it off easily.

Lucy bounced the ball from one foot to the other, watching Frigg warily. The goddess sprawled on the ground, clutching her injured leg. Her face was twisted up in pain, and she looked small and vulnerable, hunched over her leg. She looked like the picture of a beaten woman. But Lucy seemed to know instinctively what it had taken me years and several hard lessons to learn. The prey is at its most dangerous when it is cornered and in pain.