Just Kelly’s hand, lying limply across Kara’s thigh. Kelly always had been a bed hog. Moisture welled to the back of Kara’s eyes. Thank God she had found her.
Moving to the side, she carefully lowered her sister’s hand to the floor and stood up.
Within seconds, Kelly rolled to her feet and landed in a fighting pose, legs braced apart, one fist guarding her face, the other ready to strike.
“You’ll make a wonderful mother some day,” Kara drawled.
Still in attack mode, Kelly didn’t reply.
“Kelly.” Kara waved her hand in front of her sister’s face.
Kelly tilted her head, her expression softening. “Sorry. I’m a bit on edge.”
Like she needed to explain her state of mind to Kara.
Kara watched as her sister shook out her arms and then proceeded to twist her body into a series of yoga moves. “Kelly?” she prompted.
Concentrating on a point somewhere out in the Midgard Sea, Kelly didn’t reply.
“I need to tell you something,” Kara continued.
Kelly twisted her body into a triangle position, then stood. “Tell.”
Kara took a deep breath, her eyes focused on her sister’s face. “Maybe we should sit.”
Kelly stared at her for a moment, then turned and walked to the other end of the tube.
“Kelly?” Kara called after her, surprised.
“Don’t say it,” Kelly replied.
“Don’t say what?”
“What you’ve been trying to tell me since you got here.” She turned, the pain on her face shooting through Kara like a spear. “You know something, don’t you? Something about Linda — why I haven’t seen her here. Why those other capsules are all empty now.” She walked to the wall and pressed both palms against it. “I don’t know what happened to all of them. I don’t think I want to know.”
Her black jumpsuit clung to her body, emphasizing the line of tension running down her back. “That’s terrible, isn’t it? Not wanting to know? Being…afraid.”
Kara took a step toward her sister, her hand raised to reassure her.
Kelly spun, her eyes bright with anger. “I was so stupid. That bartender told me I was when Linda and I went in there the first time, but I didn’t listen to him. I talked Linda into going back — to keep looking.” She stood there, her body shaking, her eyes staring unseeing ahead of her. “And now…” She looked at Kara. “She’s dead, isn’t she? I killed her.”
Kara stared at her sister, the strong one — the one who had saved her over and over and who now stood shaking at the thought of her failure — and dropped her hand to her side.
It was Kara’s turn to be strong.
“It wasn’t your fault. Everyone makes their own choices. Just because you believed it was the right thing to do — going back to that bar. It doesn’t mean Linda didn’t want to, as well. It doesn’t mean whatever happened to her wouldn’t have happened anyway.” Kara stepped forward and heaved out a breath. “They are hunting us. If it hadn’t been Linda, it would have been another witch, eventually all of us. You were right. We have to stop this — stop them.”
Kara held out her hand, palm up. “We’re going to stop this.”
Risk’s ears flipped forward; the sound of hissing came from the other side of the doorway. Someone was coming.
“Lusse.” He turned to the witch who sat with her chin resting on her knees, her eyes faraway and swimming with dark plans. “They’re coming.”
She smiled. “Good.”
Now was when Risk needed her to play along with his plan, but she couldn’t know he was manipulating her.
“What is our plan?” He projected the question into her mind.
She shrugged. “My power has almost returned. I’ll blast the guards and take what I want.”
“The witches?” Risk asked.
“Yes, and whatever.” She flicked her gloves in the air.
“But…” He let the thought trail off.
“What?” she snapped.
“Nothing, just, it would be a shame if we left before you had a chance to learn all of Jormun’s secrets.”
Lusse twisted her mouth.
“Maybe there is a way to spend time in Jormun’s world without him suspecting your goal. You can blast your way free and steal the twins whenever you like.”
She tapped a finger against her lip. “Yes. He wants witches, doesn’t he?”
Risk nodded. “The most powerful.”
A smile split Lusse’s face. “And who is more powerful than I?”
“No one,” Risk murmured, praying it wasn’t true.
“Exactly. There must be some way to gain his trust…” She slapped her glove against her palm. “What was it that garm insisted on?”
“A toll,” Risk murmured telepathically. If Lusse would cooperate, perhaps he could arrange a simple exchange.
Her nose wrinkled. “I won’t pretend to be a toll.”
Tension wove through Risk’s body.
“But we can pique his interest other ways. A challenge.” She clapped her hands together. “I’ve heard Jormun can’t resist a challenge. And since he was exiled by Odin he can’t have had any worthy opponents. We challenge his witches to a battle. He won’t be able to resist.” She laughed. “That will get us in to see Jormun, but I’ll need you to stall for time a bit, keep him busy some way — until I’ve had a chance to let my powers completely renew.”
The doorway began to pulse.
Lusse stepped forward until her thigh was pressed against Risk’s side. Reaching down with one hand, she snagged his chain. “And remember, alpha, I still own you. The power of this chain is no less here than it is in my realm or the humans’. If you attempt to escape me, I’ll throw your son in the pit and lock you in a cage for eternity.”
The doorway vibrated again.
Risk lowered his head in a silent nod.
Two strange hairless beings greeted Risk and Lusse as the door’s power shield thinned. Their huge eyes glowed yellow, and thin silvery tongues flicked out of their mouths, brushing against Risk’s fur and Lusse’s cheek.
She swatted at the intrusion.
“Lusse,” Risk spoke in her head. “Remember your plan.”
She frowned, but stood still, letting the creatures analyze them. They leaned together, their heads almost touching, hissing and waving their short arms toward Risk. After their consultation, one stepped forward, his tongue again flitting out of his mouth to dance over Risk’s face.
Risk froze, his hackles raising. When the tongue returned again, he raised his lip in a warning snarl.
The creature hopped backward, and the two engaged in another round of excited hissing.
“What are they?” Still in his hound form, Risk was able to keep his question audible only to Lusse.
“No idea,” she replied, not bothering to lower her voice. Her arms crossed over her chest and an impatient huff escaped her lips.
Risk inhaled, trying to identify the beings. They smelled of heat and moisture, like the tube, but stronger, and something else. Something that made his hellhound nature want to grab them by the neck and shake, something unnatural.
“They aren’t natural,” he murmured in Lusse’s head.
“Really?” She cocked a brow, her head tilting as she studied them in return. She held out a hand and waved it slowly toward them. “You’re right.” Excitement cracked her voice. “They are made.”
