“You,” the elf seethed. Its beady eyes zeroed in on my chest, where my heart pounded against my ribcage. The elf let out a low hiss and bared a mouth full of razor sharp teeth. “I want your soul.”
Okay, maybe I could kill after all. The elf lunged at me, and I dove for the ground, rolling out of the way before taking an offensive stance beside the chair. With my weapon in hand, I stalked forward. Lunging, I executed the jab move Tore had taught me and cracked the elf in the face. As I touched him, I sucked a chunk of dark, sickly energy from his body. The black mist snaked up my arm, across my armor and filtered through my palm. I aimed my hand at the bowl, and the blackness shot across the room in a fierce stream. Once inside the receptacle, it pooled into a steaming ball and hissed.
Haha! Yes! My celebration was cut short when the elf’s knee came up fast, knocking into my stomach. Air whooshed from my lungs, but I used the close proximity to feign forward. Hitting out quickly, I jabbed his ribs with my weapon, then slammed my right palm into his shoulder. In one move, I pushed him away while sucking out another chunk of energy. The dark blob followed the path of the rest, and slithered into the bowl behind me.
“Yes, Allie!” Tore yelled, and I couldn’t hide my grin. The dark elf was sweating now, and I knew this battle was nearly over. As the demon cowered behind the chair, I readied myself for the kill. Sword through the heart, I could do this. I could kill. Right?
My moral dilemma lasted a second too long. As I hesitated over him, the elf sprang up from his crouch. He bolted forward to sock me right in the chin, knocking me back. Then he leapt on top of me, fangs bared and eyes blazing.
That was when the lights went out.
****
“Ow,” I groaned. My chin throbbed, sending a searing pain from my jaw into the center of my head. I brought my hand up to my cheek and gently peeled my eyelids open. The bright overhead lights of the complex sent a fresh wave of agony through my skull. Now I had a jacked-up jaw and a migraine. Fan-freaking-tastic. Tore’s face swam into focus above me, and I croaked out one question. “What happened?”
My protector sighed. “You were fighting the night elf. It was a good first run—you very nearly took him out. But you hesitated before the kill. If he’d had a weapon, or if the four of us hadn’t been right there to off him, you would most definitely be dead.”
Crap.
Tore bent down so he squatted beside me and gently touched the back of his fingers to my face. I winced as a fresh wave of torture shot through my nerves. “The elf fractured your jaw. It looks like a mild break, but it’s got to hurt. Are you okay?”
I groaned again. “No. Help me up?”
Tore carefully held one hand out for me to hold, then placed the other behind my shoulders. He guided me to a sitting position, and I squeezed his palm as pain rocked through me again.
“Hold your necklace, Allie.” Tore guided my free hand to the crystal at my neck. I cupped it, and a warm energy wove up my neck and through my jaw. Its healing powers lessened the pain, and I knew my demigod genetics were kicking in. The physical pain from my attack would be over soon. But the emotional scars . . . I shuddered as I looked around the complex. The night elf lay dead on the floor, a thick stream of black ebbing from its body. Johann, Mack, and Bodie stood around me, their weapons dripping with a tar-like goo and their faces carved with concern. My energy bowl was gone.
I’d failed.
“Sorry,” I muttered. But I’d learned my lesson. No way was I making the same mistake twice. Tore was right. I could have died because I decided to entertain a moral dilemma in the middle of a life-or-death battle. Stupid newbie. Valhalla wasn’t looking like a possibility for me.
Mack crouched down and placed a warm hand on my shoulder. “The first kill is always the hardest,” he sympathized. “Trust me, once we’re in the field and it’s your life or theirs, you will be able to do it.”
God, I hoped he was right.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“THIS MORNING? ARE YOU sure?” Tore stood at the kitchen counter, frowning at his phone. Two weeks had passed since I’d failed to kill the night elf, and the guys had been training me around the clock—even on Christmas day. Swords, knives, hand to hand, energy . . . they drilled me every day from dawn until midnight, only giving me breaks to lift weights and eat the insane amount of protein that had become my normal. If I saw one more chicken breast, I swore I’d lose my mind. I hadn’t had a designated cooking night since the time I nearly gave us all salmonella with my undercooked meat—it wasn’t my fault Gran never taught me how to cook—so I didn’t get a break from the menu ever. But the guys’ methodology worked. Between the training and the poultry, I could bench twice what I’d been able to when I’d first come to the safe house, and I had a sweet four-pack of abdominal awesome. Despite the chill, I’d taken to wearing tank tops. I liked seeing the slight bulges that previously had been non-existent. My muscles were nothing compared to the guys’, but they were more than I’d ever had before, and I was proud of them.
“Were you able to get the coordinates? Or at least a general location? What color was the light?” Tore continued to interrogate whoever was on the other end of his call.
Bodie walked into the kitchen and raised an eyebrow. “Who’s he talking to?” he whispered. He plopped onto the stool next to mine at the island and snatched one of the chicken strips off my salad.
“Take them all. Please.” I was so freaking sick of chicken.
“Nope. You still need to put on some more pounds, Skinny Minnie.” Bodie chewed.
I rolled my eyes and flexed my arms. “Skinny Minnie? Seriously? Have you seen these guns?”
Across the kitchen, Tore tucked the phone against his shoulder and jotted something down in a notebook. “That helps. Any additional information you’re able to gather, pass it on to Johann. He’s going to run communication while Mack, Bodie, and I are on the ground with Allie.”
“Who is he talking to?” Bodie asked again.
“Dunno. Somebody from Elfheim?” I speared another forkful of salad and dutifully chewed.
“Alfheim,” Bodie corrected. He leaned forward on his elbows. “Wonder what’s going on.”
I shrugged, then resumed slogging my way through my lunch.
“Okay, thanks. We’re going to weapon up right now, and we’ll call for the Bifrost in fifteen. Takk for the tip.” Tore ended the call and turned back to the counter to write something else down. As he did, he tucked his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. They were faded, and fitted, and hugged his lower half in places that I probably shouldn’t have stared at. But I did. A lot.
It wasn’t my fault the world’s most irritating guy had the world’s most impressive butt.