Chapter 23 Heimdallr #2
“Incredibly hard,” Clara retorted but I heard the laughter in her voice. “You don’t want to cause an accident, do you? Besides, Geir understands things are different in House Ironheart. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Geir replied. “It’s an honor to drive you anywhere you need to go, Your Majesty, and I’m an expert at minding my own business.”
“I volunteer to switch to the other car,” Clara continued. “That way there’s plenty of room for our new guest. I’m sorry, sir, I don’t think I caught your name. I’m Clara Helsdóttir, consiliarius for House Ironheart.”
“I’m Heimdallr.”
“Oh.” I didn’t need to lift my mouth from his throat to know she must be staring at him with awe. Her voice trembled. “Welcome to House Ironheart, sir. We were on our way to visit Her Majesty’s other residence in Reykjavík.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Well, then. Yes. I’ll hop into the other car so we can get on the road. Take your time, Your Majesty. We’ll wait in the vehicles as long as you need.”
Heimdallr moved closer to the rear of the SUV, and my dark alfar surrounded us in a loose arc, hopefully shielding us from any prying eyes.
If I could make myself focus on anything but swallowing more of his blood.
A gust of wind rippled the damp sweater against my back, sending chills down my spine.
I didn’t mind the cold, but wet and cold in the middle of winter in Iceland…
It was a lot, even for a vampire queen. I pressed my tongue over the punctures, stemming the steady flow of his blood.
Even with my eyes closed, I could see the glow of blood shimmering around us.
My wrist no longer bled, but I’d dripped blood on the sleeve and down the front of my sweater.
Heimdallr’s forearm had bled through his shirt in several spots.
Even though Gunnarr had bitten him deeply, the wounds had already sealed over. They no longer bled.
But my two punctures still released a steady stream of blood. I gave him a knowing nudge in the bond, and he huffed out a soft laugh. Though he didn’t deny allowing the bite to keep bleeding just to torment me.
I barely had to even think about pulling the blood to me.
Droplets immediately sank into me, lifting from our stained clothing.
Making me shiver with delight. I could simply absorb his blood still dripping from his throat too…
but it was ever so much more delicious to drink it straight from the source.
To feel the heat of his skin against my lips.
Taste the magic on my tongue. The quiver and vibration of energy pulsing in every drop.
I drew in a shaking breath through my nostrils. Now the water. The same idea—in reverse. I didn’t want to pull the water to me. I wanted it to drip out of our soaked clothes and water the earth. The ground was eager for moisture, especially water that had touched a god and a goddess’ daughter.
Droplets hovered against my skin. Pooling together into fatter drops.
Dripping from my fingers. My hair. Until I was completely dry.
Then I focused on each of my Blood, willing the water to slip from their wet clothes.
I couldn’t fix the tears in Heimdallr’s sleeve, but we were otherwise dry and clean.
I lifted my tongue and his blood immediately spurted into my mouth, an eager flood not stemmed in the slightest. Even as he jostled me climbing into the vehicle, adjusting me on his lap. Dorr sat beside us, and the rest of the Blood took the same seats as before.
The vehicle started moving. Hopefully the human driver was too focused on the road to worry about what I was doing in the back. What I wanted to be doing.
The more blood I drank, the more I wanted Heimdallr inside me.
:I don’t mind in the slightest,: he whispered in my mind. :In fact, I would love it. Take me on the busiest street in Reykjavík. I don’t care.:
I finally tore my mouth away from his throat. Squeezing my eyes shut so I wouldn’t see the beckoning blood on his skin, I panted softly, trying to bring myself under control. :I care.:
Hunger still gnawed at my nerve endings like a million hungry little rats. I let out a ragged laugh, shaking my head. “I don’t even know where I could put any more, even though I still want it.” I swallowed hard, trying to shift my mind to something else. “What was whispering in the darkness?”
“Pure chaos. The antithesis of life. Sometimes called the Screaming Madness.”
“Are they Loki’s creation?”
“Not that I’m aware of, though he has certainly embraced their encroachment into our realm. He welcomes anything that might spread chaos in the Nine Worlds.”
“I’m not aware of any such creature in our Darkness,” Dorr said.
I shook my head. “They weren’t of Hel’s realm. I heard them at the edges of the rainbow bridge.”
“They’re closer every day,” Heimdallr replied softly. “Only a hundred years ago, I couldn’t hear them at all.”
“What do you know about them?”
He drew a long, sighing breath before replying.
“They’re not of this dimension, our reality, the universe of the Nine Worlds.
They lay beyond it, as you said, at the furthest reaches of the universe as we know it.
Now they press against the fabric of the universe, trying to pierce the thinnest, weakest spots to gain entry.
As magic fades from the Nine Worlds, the fabric becomes thinner.
I honestly despaired we would ever be able to turn the tide, but I’ve seen glimmers of hope in the last decades. ”
Opening my eyes, I searched his face. “What gave you hope—so we can do more of that?”
His golden eyes gleamed like brilliant twin suns in the darkened interior of the car.
“More queens being born. Not just any queens, but extremely powerful ones. For instance, queens strong enough to escape Jormungandr and touch Yggdrasil directly. Young, new blood in the goddesses’ great houses.
Magic rises in Miegarer, and with magic, there is always hope. ”
“When I saw Yggdrasil the first time, there were dead, dark branches. I thought they represented other queens who’d died out.”
“They do.” His lips tightened in a harsh slant.
“There have been multiple villains playing this role for the Screaming Madness—whether coincidentally or deliberately—who were dedicated to killing out as many of the Mother’s daughters as possible.
Each time a House was obliterated, the Screaming Madness came closer. Their whispers were louder.”
“If the line is completely dead, how do we revive it?”
“Only each goddess can choose to revitalize Her line, if She desires. Many have passed beyond the Nine Worlds, or they slumber in endless forgotten sleep.”
“Could we try to wake the sleeping goddesses?”
“Yes. Some will be quick to respond. They may only need to be worshipped and revered once more to wake them. Others may require sacrifice.”
Sacrifice. Like the blood I’d offered to the Ironheart throne and the Yggdrasil seedling.
I thought of Karmen, trapped for so long in Heliopolis. How many queens had Ra abused and killed throughout millennia? Or the young Isador queen, born in an age where few queens had been born in centuries.
What had her mother sacrificed to bring Shara Isador into this world?
Which only made me wonder what my mother might have endured with Loki to have me.
I was still angry I’d been sent away. Upset she had manipulated and destroyed my memories.
But perhaps I needed to understand the full story before passing judgment.
I’d sworn to never manipulate my Blood’s memories, but someday I might be forced to make a painful decision to ensure the continuation of the Ironheart line.
Because I hadn’t escaped Jormungandr to allow House Ironheart’s branch to die.
My gaze fell on Heimdallr’s throat. Blood still dripped from the two neat punctures of my bite.
Mesmerizing me. Deep ruby against the darkness of his skin yet somehow glistening with the promise of his rainbows and energy burning in each molecule.
Flickering my gaze up to his mouth, I couldn’t help but want his bite.
Even—especially—his jagged golden shards.
But if he bit me…
I wanted him to be inside me first.
He dropped his chin, bringing his head closer to mine, though tipped to the side so I could still see the dripping bite. :There are other ways I can pleasure you without risking any exposure to the human.:
:There’s no need.:
Dorr made a low grumble beside me like the earth rumbling before an earthquake. :If you need, we need, my queen.:
:We are yours,: Heimdallr added. :Always. In any and every way you desire.:
:You’re a god.:
He turned his head a little further, his lips light on my hair. :I’m still a man, Helayna, my queen. A man who hasn’t been blessed with the touch of another living being in so long I might very well never stop coming once I allow this body to feel pleasure again. Knowing you yearn for me…:
He drew in a shaking breath, his chest quivering against me.
His blood seemed to light up inside me. Rainbows, spinning, swirling, reaching across the galaxies to glide through my body.
His hands pressed to my back, over the top of my sweater, yet I could feel the gentle glide of his fingers dancing up my spine.
Pulling the rainbows to slide and expand inside me like musical strings he plucked and strummed.
Drawing the tingling magic across nerves. Bones. Muscles. Making them sing.
A moan escaped my lips. Hopefully suppressed against his skin, or so I hoped.
But music suddenly filled the cabin over speakers I hadn’t noticed. Loud enough to drown out any further sounds I might make, with a heavy drum beat that matched the pounding of my heart.
I swallowed more of his blood. More rainbows for him to pull through my body. Sparkling, glowing light filled me. Not harsh or even warm. Not sunlight, starlight, or moonlight. But ribbons of color across the spectrum. Dancing through me like aurora borealis in the winter sky.
Climax sparkled through me. Gentle waves of pleasure making me moan again.
Spilling more of his blood down my chin.
Probably the sweater. Glittering prisms of light sparkled behind my eyelids.
Brighter, spilling out of me. I opened my eyes, watching the rainbows scatter around the interior of the car.
From me. Not him.
“You have walked the Shore of Corpses. You have conquered the Endless Slough. You have released the Well of Hvergelmir to water Yggdrasil once more. Now, the Bifrost shines in you, Helayna Ironheart, taking you anywhere the rainbow bridges can reach.”