Chapter 51
Louhi
Early morning saturates the room in hues of burnished orange, ruby, and coral through the old, wavy glass windowpanes. My eyes flutter open, and my lips curl into a smile as I stretch like a cat waking from a long nap.
My eyes shift to my left to find Sean sleeping on his stomach, his forearm shoved under his pillow.
The pinch normally present between his eyebrows is notably absent, his facial features smooth.
As my attention travels south, I resist the urge to run my fingertips over the ripples of muscle in his back.
He looks beautiful like this: serene, calm, untroubled. I’m tempted to wake him for a repeat of last night, but the sight of him sleeping beneath the sheets stops me. The blanket pools around the lower part of his waist, and I smile at the sight. Progress.
Stealthily, I extract myself from bed. I tug on another of Sean’s T-shirts and pad quietly from the room. I could use another shower, but coffee first.
The house is silent; I must be the first one awake. Jace’s closed door confirms that as I pass. I finger-comb my short hair, smoothing down the wild locks as I flounce toward caffeine.
It’s only when I reach the mouth of the hallway that I sense something’s off. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck shoot to attention, and my eyes narrow as I scan my surroundings.
To my right, the living room is exactly the way we left it.
A pack of cigarettes, empty wine and vodka bottles clutter the coffee table, streaks of crimson stains paint nearly every available surface from the walls to the floor, and feathers from destroyed pillows are scattered across the room like confetti.
As if this were a version of the game Spot the Difference in the world’s most fucked-up puzzle book, it only takes me half a second to parcel out what’s missing: the bodies.
When we all went to bed, there were dead bodies in a pile.
Now, the only evidence they were here at all is the dried pools of blood that are slowly besmirching into the porous hardwood floors.
A quick glance out the front windows confirms that the dead who were supposed to be covered in hoarfrost this morning are also missing. Missing in inaction.
I rub my eyes on the off chance I’m having some kind of ocular misfiring.
I’m not. With that ruled out, I step farther into the room.
Mercer was the one who took watch after Viktor last night.
Did one of them clean up? Maybe someone moved the bodies elsewhere.
After I procure coffee, I’ll wake Mercer to find out.
When I round the nearly destroyed sofa, my stomach plummets as my palms slam against my mouth, but it does nothing to stifle my scream. I crumple to the floor with enough force that my teeth rattle inside my skull.
A larger, more masculine form of my own lies on the floor, wedged between the coffee table and the sofa. A large pool of blood has amassed beneath him, but the worst part is that his head is missing. Taken like a basketball after a game of pick-up.
There aren’t any prayers left to pray that his life be spared, but that doesn’t stop me from saying them anyway, my head tilted back to the ceiling, crying out for whatever god might be listening.
It’s an agony worse than the sharp bite of a bullet as it tears through my flesh. Being shot might be less painful.
Tacky blood seeps through Sean’s white T-shirt as I scramble over what remains of my brother and clutch him tightly to my chest. He’s cold to the touch, his body now slightly stiff. It’s unnatural and wrong. I can’t stop the wails that leave my lips as tears track down my face like relentless rain.
I’ve taken evidence of a kill before, but being on this side of things is unimaginable. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. I just got my brother back. He and Sean had only begun to get to know each other. No, no, no…
Wracked with sobs, I vaguely register the sound of heavy footfalls and murmured voices. I hiccup as my heart weeps.
A large hand that I know as well as my own clamps down on my shoulder gently and squeezes. “Louhi.”
I don’t respond, I can’t. All I can do is shatter here on the bloodstained rug with my brother’s torso in my arms. Blood rushes between my ears, making the conversations being had around me garbled as though I’ve been buried alive, the damp, cool soil separating me from the rest of the world.
I didn’t protect him when he needed me most, and that tears a hole in my already shredded heart.
Has Mercer already met Tuoni? I imagine the Finnish god of death extending his hand to my brother the moment he took his last breath. Did Tuonetar, the lady of death, greet him with a snake head to eat and venom to drink before welcoming him into the underworld?
I’m fully cocooned in Sean’s steady, comforting presence as his arms envelop me while I continue to hold my brother. “Lou, baby, we need to leave.”
I can’t formulate a reply as my body shakes, wracked with overwhelming despair.
I’m living my worst nightmare, and it’s worse than I could’ve imagined.
Mercer can’t be gone. I never got to say goodbye.
My tears dampen the strands of soft, dark hair that peek between my fingers as they steadily track down my face. I feel as though I’m dying, too.
Sean
“We need to leave. Now. This safe house has been thoroughly compromised. There’s some farmland about seven kilometers away where my chopper can pick us up. I’ll send a cleanup crew here,” Viktor states firmly, his .44 Magnum clutched tightly at his side.
Louhi’s pain pierces through the air in the form of sobs, and I press her head tighter to my chest, my other arm banded around her shoulders. Mercer’s blood is everywhere. It coats Lou’s skin and saturates her clothing.
Mercer was killed only meters from where we all peacefully slept. I can only imagine the weight of the oppressive guilt she must be shouldering. My own heart breaks for her.
“They’re not coming back,” Jace asserts, and my eyes flick up to meet his compassionate gaze as he stares down at me and the woman in my arms. “They got what they came for and took proof of the kill with them…for Conall, if I had to guess.”
“You don’t know that, and we don’t have enough ammunition if they return. I don’t like those odds,” Viktor argues. He has a point, even if I think Jace is right. We shouldn’t gamble with our lives any more than we already have.
Sucked into the vortex of her sorrow, Louhi begins to rock back and forth like she might generate enough energy to bring her brother back to life.
She wails, her eyes screwed shut, as Jace says, “Lou’s clearly not in any state to travel.”
“I’m not waiting around anymore,” Viktor barks. In the blink of an eye, he has his phone next to his ear, and he’s speaking in rapid Russian.
Louhi doesn’t seem to hear anything being said. I rub a firm hand down her back to try to get her attention, but it’s like her grief is the only world she’s existing in.
Jace squats down next to us and gently cups her shoulder. “Lou?”
My best friend and I look at each other when she doesn’t respond except for hiccups and tears. Her brother was there for her when she lost her parents, and I’m going to be there for her now. I’ll give her whatever she needs. I’ll give her everything.
“If we leave in the next five minutes, we’ll arrive at the pick-up site at the same time as my helicopter,” Viktor explains, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.
“Will you grab Lou’s pillow?” I ask Viktor, and he disappears down the hall.
When he disappears down the hallway, I brush my hands through her hair. “Can you get up for me, baby? We need to go.”
When she doesn’t indicate that she heard me, I shift my gaze back to Jace, and he nods, responding to my wordless communication.
I scoop her into my arms bridal style, ignoring the pang in my shoulder. When I turn for the door, hiccupping sobs wrack her body, and she attempts to claw her way out of my grasp, as though she’s trying to get back to Mercer.
“Jace has him, Lou,” I assure her. I don’t have to glance over my shoulder to know my best friend has done exactly that. She stops thrashing, though, even if her face remains etched with agony.
We’re all severely underdressed for the weather.
Lou only in one of my T-shirts, me only in pants, Jace in a pair of fucking boxers.
As I open the back door to the SUV, I slide inside, keeping Lou clutched tightly in my arms. Jace climbs in behind us, still holding Mercer.
Viktor jogs outside, the pillow and a duffle in his hands.
He drops it in the passenger seat, then puts the car in gear.
“There’s a pair of pants in the bag,” he says over his shoulder, presumably directed at Jace, then adds, “And shoes for both of you.”
Viktor didn’t go the extra mile for Louhi; he did that for us, and the settled feeling from last night washes back over me. We’re all going to be okay—Louhi, included.
By the time we reach Viktor’s chopper almost thirty minutes later, the back seat of the SUV is coated in blood and Louhi’s tears. Even over the sound of the helicopter blades whirring, Louhi makes a keening sound that makes my chest constrict.
As the rotorcraft lifts off the ground, Lou drops her head against my chest, and I hug her tightly. Her journey toward healing is going to be long and hard, but I’m going to be with her for every excruciating moment of it. I was the one that hurt her once. Now, I want to be the one that heals her.