Fatal Sight (Harbingers Of Death Book 2) by LeAnn Mason (universal ebook reader txt) 📗

“Well, obviously they’re not, are they? There are... holes or something.” My temper was flaring. Feeling cornered and helpless was not something I was comfortable with after my childhood training.

Never send someone else in your stead. You are worth ten of them.

The only one I can trust is myself. Yeah, got it, Seke. I marched to the door.

“Where are you going?” The valkyrie sounded more curious than annoyed.

Turning with my hand on the knob, I flashed a confident smile. “I’m going to get her myself.”

Surprising me, Gunhilde grinned and rubbed her hands together. “I was hoping you would say that. Let’s go.” When she hopped off the dresser, the mirror was thankfully still affixed to the wall, albeit with a lengthy scratch leading into a spider-web splinter of cracks in the bottom corner. “Ready, Torgny?”

“Wait a minute. You’re coming?” I blinked.

The fierce warrior rubbed a hand on my head, worsening the rats’ nest problem. “Course, little one. Enid was my friend. And like I said, I was sent here to help you learn how to use your abilities. What better way to do that than with an actual mission?”

The “sent here” part was like sandpaper against my heart. Then again, a flying horse dude would be helpful. Much cheaper than the bus even if my stomach would hate me.

“Fine. Giddyup, horsey.” I clicked my tongue and flicked my arms as if they held long reins while backing away. I wasn’t stupid enough to make the joke with my back to him.

Torgny glowered darkly.

Hope sparking my spunkier side, I blew him a kiss and then pulled open the door.

It slammed shut. I stared at Gunhilde’s palm flat on the door over my head.

“First things first,” the wise valkyrie said, that scar popping in stark relief against her skin. “We need to know where we are going. Time to put on your vision hat, banshee.”

I turned back, my mouth agape. “I’m going to find where the vamps are?” Where my mom was? “I can do that?”

Torgny folded his arms. A tiny slant to his mouth that must have been a smirk made him look smug. “You have much to learn.”

Dammit. Seke would get his way after all.

I hesitated for only a second. I still didn’t have to join the HD, though. After all, Gunhilde said she and her... horse partner guy were independent. “Okay. Let’s do this banshee thing.”

20

“It’s easier to channel specific people when you have something of theirs to focus on, though being emotionally tied to a target helps immensely. Lucky for us, you have the ring. So, go ahead, and get that out… What?” Gunhilde drew up short, apparently having noticed my grimace.

“I don’t have it.”

You could have heard a pin drop; the silence in the room was so complete. My Norse visitors seemed to be having a hard time embracing the concept, so I elaborated. “I needed money. I was on my way back here after selling it when… you know,” I explained, feeling defensive though not sure why. “Why does it matter anyway? It was just a ring that Seke left behind when he bailed.”

I’m not bitter at all…

Gunhilde swore in some throaty Scandinavian tongue. “The ring was your mother’s.”

What?! In the wake of her proclamation, I stood stunned and speechless, waiting for my faculties to return to me.

“I’m not sure why Seke had it all these years, but it was a Celtic heirloom that had been in her family for centuries. The ring mattered because it was hers.” Gunhilde fumed, pacing the cramped space like a caged lion.

My mind was a puddle of goo. Not only was my mother alive, but she was being held against her will by vampires. Still more, a gorgeous, priceless ring turns up by way of my estranged... boss — I tossed out any other word for him — and now, it turns out to be the only heirloom I could have of my mother? And what did I do with the inherited possession Seke had returned to me? I sold it. At a considerably lower value than it was worth, too.

“Shit. Shit! I need to get it back. I still have the money he gave me. We’ll just head back over there, and I’ll explain.” I wrung my hands as I spewed my plan anxiously, pacing the discolored carpet in furious lines, passing Gunhilde in her own agitated march.

How could I have been so stupid? Why hadn’t Seke told me what it was?

I flung aside the blame, the guilt eating at me.

“I’m not sure that will work, but it is worth a try,” Gunhilde answered dubiously.

With a skeptical look toward her equinesque partner, she gathered herself and moved toward the door. Torgny waited for me to pass him before falling into line at my back to exit the room.

“If Torgny transforms, we can cloak you and fly to the shop.” The valkyrie looked back at me with questioning eyes.

I appreciated that she asked. Flying — in any form — was not my favorite mode of transportation, but considering that time was likely of the essence, I was all about efficiency.

Conceding, I watched as the large, broody male poofed into a large, broody stallion. As if it were necessary to complete the shift, he leaned his nose down toward the pavement then arched it back up toward the sky, shaking his long head and neck back and forth. Mane flying like a cover model, he returned to his proud stance, head held high and ears twitching toward where Gunhilde and I stood.

“Show off,” she muttered with a smile.

My eyebrows shot toward my hairline when Torgny suddenly folded a front leg, leaning his weight back toward his rear so that he knelt with the other front leg extended, like in a full-on bow. His soft nose touched the pocked pavement.

Gunhilde, apparently accustomed to the action, strode confidently toward her steed, grabbed a handful of wavy, black mane, stepped up onto