Getting drunk proved to be something of a chore when doing it as an act, but the house knew how I dealt with grief and reeking of alcohol was the easiest way to ensure they believed I could crumble in the wake of Fenn's death. For three nights in a row I drunk enough vodka to kill a mortal, and even once I'd sobered up the smell of it seemed to cling to me. I hated it, but a little internalised loathing would only further my act.
The scent of my recrimination was another thing Milbank’s residents recognised. Even though very few of them held my behaviour against me, they were used to me hating myself. As for the few who willingly cast loathing in my direction... Well, I wanted their disgust. I wanted them to believe I was everything they hated. I wanted them to confirm my pitiful state when questioned by the press. Beyond that task their opinions meant nothing to me.
Tanya eyed me with unveiled scorn as I descended the stairs to the ground floor. I let the look go un-reprimanded as I headed into the dining hall ahead of her. Others among Milbank's residents nodded their heads respectfully or eyed me in sympathetic concern. Even Lex looked at me in obvious worry as I entered, but as she watched my approach, understanding flickered in her expression and I guessed she'd seen my plan without needing to be told.
“I'm surprised he let you get yourself into such a state while you're pregnant,” she observed coolly, prepared to act along. “Especially three nights in a row.”
“If I'd been anyone else he wouldn't have, but goddess magic is a wonderful thing. I filter out the alcohol before it gets to our son. I wouldn't harm my child, but if I need something to help get through this then so be it. It's only for a little while.”
Lex looked at me, genuine reproach in her expression, “You could talk to me. You don't need to keep everything ‘management only’. I'm your friend.”
“I know. You are. I'm sorry. I promise I'll let you in. I've just been so caught up in it all...” I admitted, then closed my eyes as I sat next to her. “Tiw's wheeling him out to inspire Osier's followers, Lex. Like a beaten pet dog. Thinking about it hurts so much and I’m terrified that we’re out of options, that my plans have failed and that I'll never be able to put it right. I can guess what Tiw's doing to him, and all the while Osier is ensuring that both Tiw and Berith are becoming more powerful. What if I'm not strong enough to change that?”
A non-to-ladylike guffaw erupted from Tanya's table, and I could guess what the bunnies were thinking; that I was weak, a failure, a disgrace. I didn't mind. At least if the still-critical among Britain's reporters contacted one of them for the inside scoop, they would corroborate the anonymous tips Will and Katie had been firing off.
“The papers are a mixed bag today,” Natalie announced as she sat opposite, placing a stack of tabloids and broadsheets on the table next to her breakfast tray, and the announcement left me wondering how much Gunner had revealed to her. “Those reporters who were at the ash? They seem to be on you side, honouring Fenn, extolling the virtues of both of you, and advocating allowing you to grieve in your own way. The less favourable reporters? Sire, the words ‘unstable' and ‘dangerous' are cropping up again. They claim an inside source has confirmed you're on the verge of going off the rails again. Some are even raising question over who you’re truly loyal too, Conn or Fenn.”
Pulling a paper from the stack, she read allowed, “Some would have us believe this vampire to be a goddess incarnate. They wax lyrical about her devotion to her divine husband, insisting that Frigga loves Odin above all else. What we must remember, though, is that Frigga foretold Odin's death at the jaws of Fenrir. She knew in advance that the wolf would murder her husband and we are expected to believe that she is a prophetess rather than an instigator, yet it seems inconceivable that names which connect both wolf and goddess are coincidental rather than an indicator of some allegiance. Frigga's hall in the mythology of old is ‘Fensalir', the ‘fen halls', cognate to ‘Fenrir', meaning ‘fen-dweller'. It appears Odin's wife may have had more in common with the great wolf than with her husband, and perhaps grieves more for his loss than she did for the loss Conn O'Dowd at his maw.”
“At least they're encouraging the belief that I could be Frigga,” I murmured while resenting the notion that my love for Conn was questionable. “But if we want to play a game where etymological similarities are used as evidence of a connection how about Valfreyja, Valföđr, Valhalla, Valkyrie...”
“Your ties to Odin don't work with their narrative,” Lex reminded me. “Ignore what they're saying about you betraying Conn with Fenn. We all know the truth. That you love Fenn and grieve from him doesn't detract from how devoted you are to your husband.”
“This one’s interesting,” Natalie noted as she moved onto the next slanderous article. “While news of Darcy Salix's declining mental state reached us from an anonymous tip, our inside informant has confirmed the truth behind the claims. We contacted her to verify the information provided by this new contact.”
Well, that confirmed that someone within Milbank still toyed with the idea of betraying us. I only wished they'd make the final leap and either decide to betray us, so my wards could cast them from the house, or decide to remain loyal to their housemates. I presumed some loyalty to the cohort was the only reason my wards hadn’t revoked access, but they had to be walking a fine line.
“We contacted her...” I repeated, considering the paragraph Natalie had recited. My gaze flicked to Tanya again and found her watching me. “Her. That's more than they've ever revealed in the past. Now we know whoever is betraying the cohort to the press is female. I suspected as much anyway, but the confirmation is something.
“Seriously though, what's with the press and ‘Darcy Salix'? Is ‘Darcy O'Dowd really so difficult to remember?”
“It's another method they use to distance you from Conn in the eyes of the public. Ignore it,” Lex advised before taking a bite of toast.
While I knew it was good advice, I didn’t enjoy flaunting my connection to Osier over my connection to Conn.
“Yeah,” I murmured as that connection was the one I needed to utilise, no matter how much I disliked it. “When this is over I think I might print a load of posters that just say ‘The name's O'Dowd, Darcy O'Dowd', with a picture of me dressed as a spy.”
“You'd pull off a tuxedo,” Lex announced with a playful wink. It was enough to make me chuckle in spite of myself, although her next question dulled my amusement somewhat. “Even if you manage to do this, Tiw will still parade Fenn in front of the Bloodied Hand’s followers. This snake can regrow a new head. Weaker, yes, but still a head. As long as the Bloodied hand exist, Tiw will have an audience. He'll destroy Fenn to keep them inspired. Are you prepared for that possibility.”
“I won't let that happen,” I insisted, stubborn. If I accepted that I could lose Fenn permanently, then I would break. I couldn't afford that.
Lex turned to face me, watching each flicker of emotion in concern. “Darcy...”
“No,” I interrupted, shaking my head. “I'm not letting it happen. It’ll kill part of me that I can't afford to lose.”
Lex nodded, knowing my claim to be the truth. “Ok, then I guess you have a phone call to make.”
That got my attention and I scrutinised her expression, looking for any hint that she knew more about my chances of success or failure than she was saying in front of our housemates.
“Tonight?” I enquired, trying to sound more nonchalant than I felt.
She shrugged, a non-committal heave of her shoulders. “The sooner this is all over the better your chances of saving him. You already know that.”
I did know that. I knew it because I'd seen Conn's eyes turn black an soulless, and because I'd seen Amyrdrian slip into the void. Fenn was stronger than the Valkyrie, but he could still slide too far to be saved.
The idea of breakfast suddenly caused my stomach to churn. Or maybe is was fear. Either way, anxiety mounted as I stood up, looking between Lex and Natalie and murmuring, “I'll see you both later, yeah?”
They both nodded and I felt Lex's eyes on me as I slipped out of the dining room. I wished I knew how much she saw and how much prophecy she spoke, but I doubted she even knew herself. There was a good chance that people had once thought the same about me and the advice I gave, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
I crossed over to the basement access, heading down into Gunner's domain and pushing my way into the Security Office. My Second looked up at me in expectation, but rather than explain I pulled out my phone and dialled Conn's number. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.
“You've finished breakfast already?” Leof asked as he answered, and a low, enticing chuckle followed the question. “My pregnant wife usually takes longer to get through her daily concoction.”
“I didn't even get that far,” I admitted with a hint of regret. “Lex pretty much told me that today’s the day to phone Osier unless I want to lose Fenn for good. Or, at least, that's how I’m interpreting her advice. She didn't seem to know for sure if she was prophesising but the implication was there. Natalie gave me soundbites of today’s papers too so I know the dominos are lined up. I've just got to knock them down. I'm phoning Osier now.”
“I'll be down in a second,” Conn answered, becoming instantly serious. “You with Gunner?”
“Yup, I figured the security office would give me more privacy than the dining room. I'll see you when you get downstairs, Leof.”
Clicking disconnect, I looked up at Gunner, asking, “You got that phone number for me?”
He copied digits from his phone, scrawling them on a scrap of paper and sliding it across the table to me, stating, “If you do this, you risk tipping him off that we've been snooping in other cohorts private messages.”
At this point that didn't concern me, as to come after me for it the southern Sires would have to admit to working with Osier. Anyway, BritVaC no longer had a say in what we did as a NorVaC cohort.
“It's a risk I'm willing to take, seeing as the alternative is doing nothing a we all know where that'll get us,” I responded as I lowered myself onto a chair.
For a few seconds I did nothing more than stare at the phone number, hesitant despite my own convictions, but I couldn't deny that doing nothing offered greater risks than doing something unexpected. With that in mind, I hit the call button and held my mobile to my ear. The phone rang, once, twice, three times, and for a moment I though Osier wasn't going to answer, but then there was a click and his mocking voice crackled down the line, scornful and lacking the faux friendship it had possessed during our first meeting.
“Daughter, this is a surprise.”
My breath caught at his greeting, shocked. “You know it's me? You know this number?”
His laugh held little mirth as he retorted, “You’re phoning from your cohort provided mobile, Darcy. Do you really think I don't have access to the phone numbers of every Sire, Second, and lieutenant registered with BritVaC?”
I'd never thought about it before. I'd been so preoccupied with the idea Haltwhistle might have given him our members addresses that I'd never stopped to worry about something as basic as phone numbers.
“This is irrelevant,” Osier interrupted my train of thought. “What do you want? Will I tell you whose heart I'm going to stop next? I might go for that friend of yours, the one with the bright hair, the wyrdæ...”
“You'll leave her alone,” I hissed before I could stop myself. My grip on my phone tightened and I closed my eyes, letting out an unsteady breath as I attempted to reign in my defiance. “Look, I phoned because I need... I need your help.”
A moment of stunned silence past before Osier asked, “My help? Why would I help you when you are the reason Elsie’s dead?”
A snort of disgust escaped me and I couldn't keep the snark from my tone as I retorted, “If you hadn't sent her to get into my head then she wouldn't be dead. Take responsibility for the shit you cause, Osier.”
“What do you want, Frigg?” he asked, ignoring my vitriol.
I paused, letting him believe I doubted my own course of action. It was an easy act to put on considering how deeply I second guessed myself even before I answered, “I want... I need... more. More of what you gave me last time.”
Another pause met that admission, this time revealing confusion.
“I gave you everything I had on Haltwhistle, and as you and yours have seen to removing so many of my allies, I no longer feel obliged to sacrifice those I have left,” Osier informed me, misunderstanding what I had called to request.
“No. I don't want information on Haltwhistle. I... I want more of the potion...” I let that shameful admission hang for a moment before adding softly, “I... I want to stop loving Fenn.”
Even saying the words caused an ache in my chest which knocked the breath from my lungs. Fríge didn't stop loving once she gave her heart away; Lex had made that clear back at the werewolf camp, even before I understood how much Abrođen meant to me.
The warlock didn't need to know that, though, and so I swallowed my pride and pleaded, “Please. I can't do this again. I want it to stop.”
The door of the Security Office opened and Conn slipped in, silently coming to sit beside me to wait out our enemy. The minutes dragged on as Osier considered my request, and I knew without him saying so that he doubted my claims. He had no reason to believe me, and every reason to suspected a trap. I only hoped he saw my request as too good an opportunity to pass up.
But if he refused to meet me, if he refused to give me an opportunity to remove him, and if Gabriel was right, then there’d be no defeating Tiw either. Fenn would become irretrievable. Conn would fall again. I would fall again. In the darkness of Valhalla, I would watch both the men I loved disintegrate. That thought both terrified and tortured me. Tears burned my eyes and when I spoke again it was in earnest desperation.
“Please. You've done it before. It's just one potion.”
“Is that what you're telling yourself?” Dorian asked, then reminded me, “Before, I wasn't sure you'd picked a side. Before, I thought you might surrender. We aren't in the past, Darcy. I know better now.”
“Look,” I replied, loosing patience. “You have something I want. I have a whole lot that you want. Are you really going to say no? Maybe this time, when you ask to share power, I might just say yes.”
“Are you really that desperate?” Osier requested, laughing at what he assumed to be my pain. “I didn’t believe the news reports, but maybe... Did you love the dog that much?”
“Don't call him ‘dog’,” I snarled, only partially for effect. “He was a better man than you'll ever be or have ever been.”
“That's why he's dead and I'm alive. It's why your friends will die. Why your husband will die. It's why you will die,” Osier stated, confident. “But who am I to turn down a taste of your magic, daughter? I will give you your potion, and you will open yourself up to me just this once. You never know, you might enjoy it.”
“I doubt that. Will you pick me up again? Meet me at the car park entrance?”
The warlock laughed at my suggestion, “Oh no, not this time. That sounds too much like walking into a trap. If you genuinely want this potion then you will cross the blinking eye to the other side of the river, and when I see that you're alone, then we'll conclude our business, blood of my blood.”
“Am I supposed to solve riddles now as well?” I enquired, feeling irritable, partly through anxiety and partly because Osier just grated on my nerves.
“The blinking eye, Darcy,” he drawled as if bored of me. “The Millennium Bridge over the Tyne to the carparks of the Baltic Art Gallery and the Sage Opera House. You live just up the road from it. Be on the bridge an hour from now, and I’ll be watching as you cross to the south bank. A warning, though; if you're anything other than alone then I’ll slink into the shadows as easily as any vampire and you'll lose your opportunity to have a little bit of relief.”
“That works two ways,” I answered even though I knew I didn't have a hand to play. “You come alone, or I swear I'll take out every junior wizard and robe wearing cultist you send at me. You know what I want, bring that and that alone.”
The warlock chuckled, promising, “You'll get your potion. A final question, though, daughter; do you want a few hours again or would you like a more permanent solution this time?
“This time I want a permanent solution,” I answered. “I'll see you in an hour. I'll be alone.”
With that I hung up. Turning towards Conn, I took hold of his hand, squeezing because I needed to feel him, to believe that I'd see him again when this new plot had been followed to its conclusion. I needed to believe that I could go out alone, defeat Osier, the very warlock who'd brought be to my knees for Osgar, and return to my husband in one piece. And if I failed? Well, I'd be Osier's prisoner... and Conn would need to come up with a rescue plan.
“You won't fail,” he promised me, hearing the doubts in my mind. “You set your feet on a path which led us here, and this is where our victory begins. We have a much bigger fish to catch than Osier; this is your warm up act. You can do this.”
“I can do this,” I recited then turned to Gunner. “Call together a team of sentries, we need to brief them on what’s happening and get them armed up in case this goes pear-shaped.”
Our sentries assembled quickly, crowding into the Security Office and taking seats, their expressions grim, expecting bad news. Lex, Katie, and Natalie were among the first to take their places, but the room quickly filled and when Gunner looked over his team, there was pride in his expression.
“The good news is that we aim to avoid a battle tonight. The bad news is it might come to one anyway. Darcy has a plan to rid us of one of our enemies, but it involves facing Dorian Osier alone and that carries risks,” our Second announced once everyone fell silent, an a wave of disbelief hit me from my housemates.
All eyes turned on me, several heads shaking in denial. Oliver spoke up, stating what others were undoubtedly thinking, “You're our Sire. This is too big a risk. Especially for you. What if he does as he did at the shipyard? If he saps your energy or controls you?”
“I won't let him control me. Not this time. Not now I know what to expect. As for sapping my strength, we're kinda depending on him trying to do just that. We want to make use of Priori Incantatem.”
“Priory what?” Oliver asked.
Katie rolled her eyes, but she sounded more amused than chiding as she explained, “Honestly, you lot work with her and you haven’t started learning to translate geek-code yet? Priori Incantatem is the phenomenon which occurs when Harry and Voldemort's wands connect. Only in this case, our wizards don't need wands and it'll be they, themselves, that connect.”
“Why would you do that?” Natalie asked, curious but without the disbelief Oliver displayed.
“Because I'm a goddess and Osier is not,” I answered, shrugging as it the admission wasn't anything out of the ordinary. “In theory, I can burn him out before he has the opportunity to do me any permanent damage. I'm not going to lie, it's a risky strategy. However, it's also done under the advisement of an angel, and because we're running out of time, and because it's the best we've got. I have to go alone or Osier won't show, but Conn will be listening to me and if anything goes wrong then you can mobilise immediately. I'm meeting Osier on the other side of the Millenium Bridge. The rendezvous point's not far from here.”
Our sentries studied me, then Conn, then me again, before slowly nodding their acceptance. After all, I stood Sire and this was my decision to make.
“Alright then,” Gunner said once our Sentries agreed to our latest plan of attack. “Everyone else arm up. Darcy, you want to get ready to go? Your amulet's in place, yes?”
“Always,” I answered, patting the place where it lay against my chest. Then I stood, offering my hand to Conn. “The bridge is only a five minute walk from here. We have half an hour free before I leave.”
No one in the room missed what I requested in that simple observation, but for once no one smirked or wolf-whistled. I was about to do something dangerous, dangerous enough to see me once again incarcerated or dead, and so they'd grant me my half an hour with my husband. It wouldn't have mattered to me even if they'd rolled their eyes and doled out reproach.
Standing, Conn lifted me easily into his arms, he held me against his chest, striding from the room as our people started to arm up. No one questioned seeing him carry me through the house, and I remained in his arms until we reached the Sire's apartment, where he carried me across the threshold and to the bedroom, setting me down on crisp, cotton sheets.
“This is not a goodbye, ok?” he told me as he peeled my t-shirt from my body. “This is an ‘I love you, and I'll see you as soon as your done', right?”
I nodded as I tugged his shirt from his waistband, undoing the buttons and pushing it from his broad shoulders. “Yes. But it's also an ‘I'm afraid and I need a moment to be yours, here, safe’. It's an ‘if I don't come back, remember that I love you’, because I do. Forever. Through all things.”
His palm cupped my cheek as he looked down at me, his eyes swirling gold, love written in his expression. “You'll come back. You always come back to me, Little Warrior.”
That declaration made, he kissed me, pulling me closer only to lay me back on the bed. We shirked off our remaining clothes, needing the skin on skin contact, the heat of each other's body as he settled between my thighs. I tugged the leather cord from his hair, knotting my fingers in the blond waves as he gripped my hips, holding me in place as he pressed himself against my entrance. A moan of need escaped me as I arched, my body reacting automatically to him with a soul deep yearning. My magic reacted too, meshing with his, merging even as his body sunk into mine.
That was the way with us. Somehow I knew it always had been, even when we were King and Queen of Ésageard. It was more than a joining of bodies, so much more than a biological imperative. With us, it was also the synchronising of two hearts and the binding of two souls. It was an ache for all the things we'd lost, and all the times we'd hurt, and it was the joy in every victory and in every moment we spent together. It was what kept us going, and when Leof's mouth found mine again, I kissed him hungrily, pouring everything I felt into the demanding press of lips against lips.
Lifting my hips to meet each thrust, I gave myself over to the feel of him, the feel of his muscles bunching against my softer curves, of his hands on my body and his power rippling through every cells, an electric current of need passing between us as easily as thoughts and emotions did. When I screamed his name in pleasure - his true name - he came apart above me, my name on his lips and his head thrown back in ecstasy. We writhed against each other, our bodies sating themselves even after our minds lost the ability for conscious thought, and when we finally lay side by side, panting from exertion, Conn grinned.
“I love you, mínu Fríge.”
“I love you, Woden,” I answered, grinning too.
He knelt then, kissing my abdomen, over the baby which grew inside me. “And I love you, little man. You're both coming back to me, ok?”
Nodding, I repeated that declaration, trying to believe it, “We're coming back, I promise.”
I gave him one more lingering kiss before pulling my clothes on again and strapping my sword at my hip, mentally girding my loins even as I armed up my physical body. Then I tugged on the red biker jacket which Katie had provided for one of our many press conferences, and headed for the door.
Conn redressed too and followed me back downstairs to the carpark, to the exit which wasn't permanently scrutinised by photographers both amateur and professional. He squeezed my hand then stepped back, forcing a smile even though I could feel his reluctance to let me go out alone.
“Go give him hell, my love.”
“The idea is that I'll ensure no one will ever again offer him Hell or any other realm,” I answered then took a deep breath for fortitude, adding, “I'll try my best. See you soon, Leof.”
I turned on my heel and I didn't look back, because I was afraid that if I saw the worry in Conn's eyes I'd decide not to go, and I had to. For the sake of the world, and for all of the heavens, and for the green-eyed wolf currently being tortured in Valhalla; I had to do this. Osier had to be stopped, and so I crossed the carpark, climbed the exit ramp, and stepped out into the cool night air just as I'd done many times before.
Looking up at the stars, I pictured Gabriel, murmuring, “You'd better be right about this.”
