4. Azzie
Four
Azzie
There was so much rage in my head. A level I shouldn’t have. I’d learned a long time ago to control my anger, but this was pushing me over the edge.
“Last Night” by Ian Carey was playing in my skull, with the bass coming in hard and Snoop Dog picking up the chorus with more enthusiasm than would be legal in a town like this. I needed a dozen ibuprofen and a billion more hours of sleep.
I wanted the pain to stop in so many ways, and instead, I was threatening an ancient bear, as if he couldn’t throw me across the room with a single slap.
I should be thanking him. Regardless of what happened when our paths crossed in the past, tonight he saved me. If he hadn’t been there, I would’ve been fucked. So why was I reacting this way?
“This is all but the last place I want to be,” Davyn said.
Of course it was. Because the last time I saw him, he left without a word. At least I didn’t get attached before I lost him, unlike Mom. Unlike Rayne. I tightened my grip on my knife, more to keep my hand from shaking than anything.
The rage surged in again. Every time I pushed it back, it returned. Where was this coming from?
Anger at Davyn, for not being a part of my life? Fuck him.
My vision swam.
“Azzie?” He was studying me, instead of showing any sort of fear.
He hurt you. Hurt him back .
No, really. What was my head doing?
I could ground myself by focusing on my surroundings. The pattern of the comforter, meant to hide stains as much as be attractive. The short carpet under my feet. Orange. Or was it brown? Did it use to be paler? The two queen-sized beds that seemed standard in every single one of these motels, regardless of brand, from here to Virginia.
A phantom ache ran through my forearm. The one he’d broken. The one that held me back for more than a year, as I tried to learn, and it fought to heal.
Davyn had my knife in a blink, but he dropped it with a snarl and stepped back.
Could I lunge for it before he stopped me? My fury swelled. This wasn’t normal. I shouldn’t be losing my control this way.
But a voice in my head was screaming at me to fight. To scream and kick and claw and fuck reason.
Like I said, I like a fight. That was one of the last things the wolf in the bar said. I slipped up with him and let down my guard at the wrong time.
I pressed a palm to my forehead, to push out an anger that wasn’t mine.
“Azzie?” Davyn asked again.
He was being patient. He wasn’t an enemy.
He is. He’s a beast. He’ll hurt you. Fight back .
This wasn’t me. “I think…” Talking was hard. I wanted to hurt. Why wasn’t this a problem with the police officer? That exchange had almost been like watching from outside my body. I barely recognized the Azzie holding that conversation.
He would have gotten in the way. I can handle this.
No. I could talk through this. “Whatever made me pass out.” My tongue felt like lead, and I struggled not to clench my jaw and snarl. I pushed past all the feelings, to find words. “He encarc— encor— enchanted my headband. With a touch. With his ring. Said he liked a fight.”
Davyn wasn’t a threat. I could see that. I knew that. His posture was casual, rather than threatening, and he used the toe of his boot to nudge my knife toward me.
He’s more dangerous with his bare hands. Now you fight. Now you’re in trouble .
He turned his attention to the small tray at the far end of the dresser, where the coffee maker sat.
He’s distracted. Attack .
“There’s a voice in your head right now,” he said. “Telling you to attack me. Filling you with rage.”
Shut him up. He’ll hurt you. He’ll make you suffer.
I clenched my fist and dug my nails into my palm, focusing on that pain. “Why would you say that?”
“Lucky guess. I can make it stop.”
He’ll hurt you. He’ll destroy you .
That last one wasn’t true. Not literally, anyway. The prophecies didn’t say he would be my downfall. “What is this?” I pushed the words through gritted teeth.
“I cannot be certain, but if I’m right, it’s how we were guaranteed a fight when we took prisoners,” Davyn was calm. “We all had talismans. We could all do it.”
“ We? ”
“Odin’s Berserkers. But the one you were talking to tonight wasn’t one of us. He’s a younger wolf.”
The talking is to distract you. Attack while he thinks he has the upper hand.
No. His words were forcing me to think. “There are younger Berserkers?” I reached deep for my training. The educational parts, not the fighting parts. “I thought only Odin could?—”
He will kill you. He’ll use you first.
“Some of those who survived had families. Magic is strong, even when breeding with humans. You should know that. You’re half-goddess.”
“I’m all goddess.” Or I would be. As soon as I ascended. Or however that worked. I was piecing together the rest of his words. “So you put people to sleep, took them prisoner, and when they woke up, they fought?”
Davyn nodded. “We’re drawn to the fight. We feed on it.”
A lot of them were sadists in the bedroom— “So you have magic roofies to make assault more exciting?” Nausea rose in my throat, and the rage was back full force. I’d kill him with my bare hands if he’d done this to others.
Yes. It’s the only way to stay safe.
“No,” Davyn said. “Some did. I wish I could deny that. I never did, and I didn’t realize the magic was still shared. But the wolf said he wanted to fight you in the arena. That was why you were here.”
“No. I was here for a bachelorette party.” I’d heard of the fighting pit. I’d been tempted, but not today. I needed to get rid of the voice chanting kill in my thoughts, and it wasn’t as if I was sticking around. When I took off my protective wards, it was to force becoming a goddess. It was for my enemies to find me so I could stop hiding.
Davyn wasn’t an enemy. He was nothing to me.
Kill. Fight. Kill. Fight .
“How do I make it stop?” I asked.
“You can wait it out, or you can give it what it wants.”
I flexed my fingers and reached for the knife on the nightstand. “I kill you?”
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes .
“ Stop, ” I screamed.
Davyn didn’t look surprised at my outburst. “We hurt each other. No one dies. We both walk away.”
“Like some sort of bloodletting?” I forced out a rough laugh. My sword required that I draw blood when I unsheathed it. Which I hadn’t. Was this like that?
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes .
Davyn’s nostrils flared, and he licked his lips. “No. Do you trust me?”
“Not even a little.”
That earned me a dry smile. “Smart woman. How about this? Give me two minutes. You can watch me the entire time. It’s really easier to do than to explain.”
Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. I swallowed hard. “Okay.”
He approached the coffee tray and pulled two of the paper cups from their plastic wrappers.
“Wait.” Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill . “You don’t have one of those magic rings, do you?”
Davyn held up his hands, which were devoid of any jewelry, though some really neat tattoos ran up his bare forearms. “I can tell you no , but you’d have to trust me to believe me.”
Let him finish, then fight him. Lure him in, the way he is doing with you .
Fucking— “Keep going.”
He tore open a few of the powdered-creamer packets and dumped them into the cups. Then did the same thing with some sugar, before picking up one of the single-serve tea packets.
Tea was the answer? We were going to sit and sip and be calm?
Fight. Fight. Fight .
He opened the tea and dumped the loose leaves in the cups as well.
Was this some ancient sort of tea ritual?
Kill. Kill. Ki ? —
He spilt a serve coffee packet between the two cups of ingredients as well.
What the fuck?
And then whole packets of salt and pepper.
“What are you doing?” This made no sense. The voice in my mind panted in anticipation.
Davyn filled both cups the rest of the way with water from the sink, then mixed each with a stir stick. He handed me one, and I took it.
It looked revolting.
“You have to offer that to me,” he said. “And you have to want me to drink it and hate it.”
I swallowed a gag, as the pieces slotted together. I had to hurt him. This was one of the most disgusting things I’d ever seen, and I’d been a bar bunny with a death wish just a few years ago.
I gave the drink one more stir and watched the grossness float and swirl. “It can’t even be warm?”
“Is it less appealing when it’s cold?” he asked.
So much less appealing. I saw his point. And yeah, if he was going to hurt me, I’d do the same to him. “I’d like you to have this.” I handed him the drink, and I meant every word of what I was saying. “Drink with me.”
He did the same, giving me the other cup. “I’d like to drink with you too.”
I took the offering and met his gaze. With a barely visible nod, we raised the drinks to our lips, and I chugged half of mine in a single swallow.
My gag returned, and I struggled to hold it back. A deep spark of satisfaction ran through me, as I glimpsed him reacting in a similar way.
“You have to finish it.” Davyn’s voice was strained.
Fuck him for making me do this.
At least that was my own thought. I downed the rest and tried to swallow past the grit. I couldn’t do it. I dropped the cup and raced for the bathroom. I barely made it to the toilet before I was retching.
Similar sounds echoed from the other room.
This was so disgusting, especially mixed with the flavor of alcohol-free girly drinks, repeating on me. So so gross. It was an eternity before I emptied the contents of my stomach.
“Drink this.” Davyn’s voice came from next to me, and he handed me a new cup.
This one was plastic and filled with water.
“Thank you.” I took it and sipped the beautifully boring, flavorless liquid. When I could stand, he also had a damp washcloth waiting for me.
I didn’t care how I looked. I washed up and listened to his footsteps fade away as he walked into the other room.
When I was finally done, I looked into the mirror. The woman who stared back was a mess. My red hair was coming loose from my braid, and my light makeup was smeared. The dark circles under my eyes and the patchy spots on my pale cheeks made me look so weak. So mortal.
The rage was gone. Thank the gods for that.
I took a few minutes to redo my braid, then re-joined Davyn in the main room. He was sitting on the edge of the bed closest to the door, which put him between me and the exit, but it wasn’t as if there was any other place for him to be.
“Better?” he asked.
I nodded. “Thank you.” The magical urge to fight was gone, but I still didn’t like the situation. I was trapped with a man I didn’t know, aside from his name and the fact that he’d broken my arm when I was eleven. “I still want to know why you’re here.”
“There are people who are working hard to make the prophecies happen.”
“FU.” I wasn’t telling him off. The Followers of Urd had approached me a few times when I was younger. Until Mom got good at hiding us from everyone.
“Probably, but not in this case. Aya—Freya—isn’t one of them. Since you and I are supposedly intertwined, she sent me to you.”
“Like that? Without your permission?” I shouldn’t be surprised. I wasn’t surprised. Too many gods thought they knew what was best. “That checks out.”
He let out a dry laugh. “Like that. I’m sorry for your loss. Your mother was a kind woman.”
A fresh wave of grief spilled through me, carried on the exhaustion of the night. “Don’t. Don’t pretend you care. Don’t pretend you knew us.” The words came out with more bitterness than I intended.
“I didn’t know you. I’m surprised you even remember me.”
“A girl never forgets her first time.” It was a tasteless joke, but the shock that spread across Davyn’s face was worth it.
“Excuse me?”
I smirked. “You think you’re the only one? I’ve had so many broken bones and gotten so many scars from training.” I pulled up my left shirt sleeve, exposing a long, pale mark that would be visible even at a distance. “First time I fucked up throwing knives.” I tugged up my right pant leg, showing off a knot in my shin. “First broken leg.”
Davyn chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“Excuse me?”
“If we’re comparing scars, I will outlast you in ways you can’t imagine.”
This was far better than my conversation in the bar with the wolf. Fun. Easy. A great way to forget that I could still feel the texture of coffee grounds and tea leaves in my mouth.
Damn it , now I remembered. “A lot of guys insist they can go longer than me. It rarely happens.”
Davyn’s laugh was deep and rich.
Now that I knew he wasn’t a threat, I could appreciate what he was. Big . At five-foot-eight, I wasn’t tiny, but his shoulders filled a door frame, and his head nearly brushed the top. And his hands… I couldn’t see the roughness from here, but I’d gotten a glimpse earlier, and those thick, long fingers looked like they’d seen all sorts of work.
Talk about the kind of man who could pin me to a wall and take a bite out of me.
Not that it mattered. I’d broken myself of the habit of fucking anyone who caught my eye, and on the rare occasions when I fell into a hookup, it had to be with someone I wouldn’t see again.
I wasn’t going to keep Davyn in my life, but if the gods were determined to push us together, this wasn’t the last time we’d run into each other.
In fact, it was time for me to make the break. Before I started enjoying this. Before any part of my mind convinced me we could be close. I kicked away from the bathroom wall. “Thank you for saving me. I do mean it. I’m not going to hold you up, though. I’ll let you be on your way.”
He fixed me with a raised-eyebrow look.
This was where he would object. Say something like, I’m meant to protect you. I’m meant to be your enforcer when you become a goddess. I’m not going anywhere.
“This is my room,” he said.
Heat flooded my cheeks. “Right. I’ll be going.” I grabbed my knives, holstered them, and strapped them in place, one at my hip and one at the small of my back.
Neither of us said a word while I worked, and I walked out of the room, leaving the cloud of awkwardness behind.