31. Finn
Thirty-One
Finn
I didn’t like seeing these people again, especially sandwiched between a surprise encounter with Lugh, and a planned trip to a siren. A trip I was pretending to oppose, to keep from letting show how much I needed Azzie to go.
Most of the conversation went in one ear and out the other, as I watched Gwydion do his damndest to pretend he wasn’t watching me.
But when he turned to Azzie and said, “We need to move you someplace safer,” that caught my attention. Not because of me, I assumed. I hoped.
“Why?” Davyn asked, taking the burden off me to do so. “Because someone might find her?” Sarcasm slid into his question.
“Draugar attacked her two days after she arrived here. Loki sent her a birthday present yesterday. Someone already knows how to find her.” Of course, a lot of that had to do with me, but my presence, my insistence that Zeke not be hurt, was also keeping her from more overt attacks. She may not be safe , but it wasn’t as if a new location would be better. And at least with her living next door to Zeke, I could keep an eye on her.
Gwydion jerked a thumb in Kirby’s direction. “We have a god killer. Hel is gone. We can keep you safe, Azzie.”
Hel? No shit. Did Loki know? Did Loki care ? Yes, Hel was one of his children, but he and his family had drifted far apart over the centuries, and unlike the others, Hel tended toward more selfish behavior. Loki presented himself like a self-important bastard, but a more complicated reality lay under his surface. Deep under his surface.
I doubted Davyn would have loved him at any point if the truth were otherwise.
Regardless, “Hel isn’t the god who was pursuing Azzie.” I bit back the rest of my thought, that Azzie definitely wasn’t safer under the watch of two men who would burn down the world for Kirby. “And full offense—you’re not exactly a reliable source of protection.”
So I didn’t hide the thought as well as I meant to, but I was right, because I knew what I’d do in Gwydion’s shoes. I’d done it once, and it was why we didn’t like each other.
“No one’s going to stop you from fading back into the woodwork.” Kirby’s voice was soft as she leaned closer to Azzie. “If you do, the Followers of Urd will leave you alone.”
Ah, yes. The brilliant organization who would do anything to make the prophecies happen. I fucking hated people like that.
Azzie grabbed one of Davyn’s donuts—her third, and bit into it. She washed the food down with a swig of milk, never looking away from Kirby.
Knowing Azzie, it was meant to be mocking more than threatening.
“If you were me, would that bother you?” Azzie asked.
Kirby shook her head. “In fact, if I were you I’d run as far and as fast as possible from any group of gods or immortals larger than the one you travel in. Fade away. Hide. Until you’re ready for the world to know who you are.”
“Thanks. I think I’m good as-is.” Azzie wiped her fingers clean and shook Kirby’s hand.
As everyone finished their donuts, Gwydion continued to glare at me. Kirby smacked his arm lightly. “Knock it off,” she muttered, and gave me her attention. “For what it’s worth, I understand.”
“Thank you.” I wasn’t used to people conceding I’d made the right decision when it came to my past.
Davyn gave me a furrowed-brow look, but kept his mouth shut.
A short while later, we said our goodbyes. Before we could part ways Kirby said, “Azzie, can I talk to you for a minute?”
Azzie shrugged and joined her a few meters away. As Kirby talked, Azzie’s expression fell, then shifted to a frown, and rage. She replied in something that looked loud, but there was no sound.
Was Gwydion keeping us from overhearing the conversation?
Kirby looked contrite. The exchange lasted another minute or two, with Azzie’s anger fading, but not vanishing. She shook her head, and stalked away from Kirby. When she got closer to Davyn and me, her “let’s go” was as clear and distinct as I’d expect.
We walked one way, leaving Kirby, Starkad, and Gwydion to go the other.
“What was that about?” I asked.
Azzie gave me a cool look. “I think that’s my question. What was up with you and Mister Other God?”
I very much didn’t want to talk about it, the same way I hadn’t wanted to read the story from a book two days ago. She and Davyn would both push until I spilled the truth, though. “It’s a hard story to tell,” I said. “Can we wait until Zeke is here so I only have to share it once?”
Deep lines etched Davyn’s forehead at the request. “Whatever it is, at least one of them doesn’t trust you because of it.”
“The feeling is mutual.” I returned Davyn’s glare. “Besides, Kirby understood and she was the one who was in danger.”
Davyn growled.
Azzie resumed walking toward the library. “That’s fair.”
Davyn looked like he was ready to try to beat the answer out of me regardless. It hadn’t worked for Gwydion, and it wouldn’t work for him.
“I’m going without both of you.” Azzie’s voice was sweet.
I wasn’t missing out on another day in the library, and I joined her.
Davyn caught up to us a moment later. When I glanced at him, he said, “There’s no way I trust you alone with her until I have answers.”
It was a bit late in the game to feel that way.
We reached the library, and spent the next few hours browsing, discussing, and ultimately not walking away with any new information about sirens. I was pleased with the random snippets of new things I’d filled in, though.
As we left, I realized she’d never explained what happened with Kirby. I’d ask again, but I wasn’t ready to spill my own secrets.
Before we headed home, Azzie wanted to return to the donut shop. “It’s only fair we bring Zeke something.”
Logic I couldn’t argue with.
When we returned to Zeke’s, he was in the kitchen filling the coffee pot with water. His back was to us, and he was only wearing a pair of boxers, which meant he’d just woken up. I took a moment to admire the runes and images carved in ink along a back that rippled with muscle honed from years of swinging a hammer against hot steel.
“As if you haven’t seen it dozens of times before,” Davyn grumbled and stepped around us.
Why did he care who I looked— Ah . Azzie was staring too.
The sound was enough to grab Zeke’s attention, and he faced us. “Welcome back.”
I blinked across the room, took the carafe from him to set it in the sink, and handed him the coffee and donut we’d brought. “And we come bearing gifts.”
“Too tired to make a joke about coming.” He took the offerings from me. “And you’re the best. Thank you.”
“Careful with language like that,” Azzie said as she and Davyn joined us. She took a seat on a stool on the other side of the island bordering the kitchen, and he stood.
Someone was on edge. Though, that was usually the case with Davyn.
Zeke took a long drink off the coffee. “Why? Is there some sort of magic or promise in a statement like that?”
“Even the intentionally obtuse universe understands hyperbole.” Davyn’s voice was gruff, and he drummed his fingers on his bicep, highlighting his crossed arms posture.
“She’s worried you’ll give me a big head.” I pressed closer to Zeke, and mimed grinding against him. “She forgets you already make my head swell.”
Zeke chuckled and nudged me back, while Azzie rolled her eyes.
The opinions of two beings who had lived less than three decades each held little weight when it came to my maturity levels. Once Zeke had a century or five behind him, he’d start to understand immortality was far more tolerable if one learned to appreciate the ridiculous, the ludicrous, and the bizarre.
With a palm to my chest, Zeke nudged me back playfully as he set his drink on the counter and grabbed the donut from the bag.
“Cream filled?” He shot me a look of disbelief.
I jerked my head at Azzie. “She made the choices.”
“I know what you like.” She smiled sweetly.
The sigh Davyn let out should have shaken the room with how heavily it landed.
Yup. Another afternoon at headquarters—AKA, the kitchen.
“How’d it go?” Zeke asked between bites.
I leaned against a nearby counter. “We learned a lot.” I learned a lot. Not sure the others had the same appreciation for the raw information. “None of it, however, was about sirens.”
“We met old friends of Davyn’s and Finn’s.” The innocent lilt was still in Azzie’s reply, most notably in the heavy emphasis on one word.
“ Really .” Zeke set the rest of his food down next to his coffee. “Good week for that. Who this time?”
“A Valkyrie.” Azzie said before I could answer. “Apparently there’s one out there now. A wolf Berserker.”
A shadow crossed Zeke’s face. “Not like Ulf.” We’d both heard the story of how Azzie and Davyn met.
“No.” Davyn made the short word sound even more terse. “Starkad is driven by the fight, but he bows to Kirby.”
“The Valkyrie.” Azzie offered at Zeke’s questioning look. “And there was a god.”
“One who hates Finn,” Davyn said.
Had he been waiting to deliver that line since we parted ways from the other group? If he was hoping to draw a negative reaction, he failed.
Zeke’s posture loosened. “A lot of my clients don’t like Finn. I don’t put any stock in their opinions, because no one forced him to save me.”
His defense of me warmed me from the inside out.
Even Davyn almost looked moved by the words. “I’d still like to know why.” Almost .
When Zeke gave me a questioning look, I said, “Go get dressed first.”
When he returned, we had moved to the kitchen table, and he joined us. Three people watched me with expectation.
Well, fuck. I probably had to do this. “This is about the seer who was mentioned in the book the other day.” I didn’t need the story in front of me to remember it in vivid detail. “One of the visions she had was of a Valkyrie who was already dead, because she’d been cursed by Odin. When she had the vision, she didn’t know about the curse, she only knew the death she saw was horrific, and happening in the future, not the past.”
I looked at Davyn. “Do you need a full description of what she saw? All the gore? All the violence?” I didn’t mean to let the bitterness slip through.
“No,” Azzie said before Davyn could reply.
I pursed my lips. “Gwydion did. He wanted the details. The moment he found out I had information about one of Kirby’s deaths, he wanted to know everything, to try to stop it.”
Azzie’s hand sat on the table, and she clenched her fist so tightly it shook and her knuckles paled. Did she go through things like this with her mother’s visions? “Why didn’t you tell him?”
Clever girl, realizing I hadn’t. “Because Sadhbh had made me promise not to. Because acting against her visions only ever caused more pain. Because Kirby’s lives belonged to fate, and telling Gwydion would have only driven him mad when he couldn’t stop events from happening anyway.”
“You don’t know that,” Davyn said.
No, but the odds were high. “I know that the person I loved asked me to keep her secret, and she meant more to me than Kirby ever did.”
“I get it.” Azzie’s words were so soft I wasn’t certain I heard them or if I had imagined them.
Zeke pushed back his chair. “I don’t think I do. You mean you’ve never questioned if you made the right decision, keeping the information to yourself?”
“I question a lot of decisions I’ve made, as we all do.” However, I’d learned something important over the centuries. “If I were to spend all my time dwelling on regrets, it would drive me mad. As it will you.” I focused on Zeke. “It was the decision I made at the time, and I believed in my reasons for doing so. I traded a life fate would have taken regardless, for a promise made out of love.”
The fact that Zeke looked away didn’t reassure me. Regardless of how he saw the situation, I wouldn’t hesitate to make a similar decision again. For him. About Azzie. He was my heart now, and no one would take him from this world.