She smiles. “Barely’s still something.”
“I guess.”
“And hey, if it’s fighting the vanir, I’m sure we’ll have another chance soon.”
“We should have thrown the Americans out on their rears,” I say, “when they came asking for help.”
“Except the vanir are bonding all the humans they can catch.”
“There’s that,” I say. “And eventually they’ll probably come for us.”
Liz yawns. “I should probably go back to sleep and see whether I can figure out how Freya went from trying to summon Veralden Radien to imprisoning all the vanir in that horrible-to-pronounce volcano.”
“You mean Eyjafjallajökull?”
She rolls her eyes. “Showoff.”
I say it three more times, just to see her smile.
“You are such a punk.” She shoves me, and I grab her hand.
“Do you need to go right back to sleep?” I can’t help staring at her every chance I get. Between wars and brothers attacking, there aren’t many chances. “It’s okay if you do.”
She runs her hand down the hard planes of my chest, and then she shivers. “Maybe not right away.” When she squirms backward, a half-smile on her face, I can’t help it.
Something inside me roars, and I stalk toward her, moving slowly, intently. My hand slides up her thigh, and she squeals. The fingers on my other hand slip underneath the strap of her camisole, sliding over her collarbone. “Your skin is so smooth.” I move closer and press a kiss to the exact same spot I just touched.
She purrs, almost like a cat.
And then, a horrifying sound, a sound I’ve been dreading I might hear for months now, fills the night air, a sound like the screaming of a thousand dying blessed.
I freeze.
Liz’s big, beautiful, expressive eyes widen. “What was that?”
I swallow. “My father’s here.”
She swears, loudly.
“I have to shift now,” I whisper. “But.” I crouch over her, and I press one finger to her mouth. “No matter what anyone says or asks or does, don’t tell my father or anyone else that you killed Freya. Are we clear?”
“I think Thunar knows,” Liz says. “I told him I took the heart from her.”
I shake my head. “We’re going to deny it. No matter who says it, we deny it. Are you clear?”
Liz nods slowly. “Okay.”
“Because as crazy as you say she was. . .” I sigh. “My father’s far, far worse, and he’s still alive. So if he still loved her, and if he’s likely to be upset about something, we had nothing to do with it.” I hop out of the bed, reluctantly, but not slowly, and as soon as I’m clear of our chamber walls, I shift into my Azar form.
Liz follows me out slowly, shucking her pajamas in favor of her dragonskin warrior garb.
I have to go, but you will stay.
She lifts both eyebrows. “No way.”
Please.
“When has it ever gone well for us to separate?”
