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His gaze burns into my back until I turn the corner. As soon as I do, I take off running, racing toward the kitchen with my heart in my throat. I need to find Reaper. He needs to know about this man.
Rissa and Abigail look up from the table as I burst into the room, startled to see me.
"Where's Reaper?" I demand, not giving them time to speak. I've come to love them dearly, but I don't have time to explain.
"With Damrion," Abigail says, her expression wan. Shadows seem to cling to her eyes, emphasizing the dark circles that have formed underneath them. "They're preparing to go in search of another Valkyrie."
Her announcement draws me up short. "Another Valkyrie? They've found her?"
Abigail presses her hand to her forehead, her expression clouded. "I…I don't know. I think so?"
"She had a vision," Rissa translates. "But she isn't sure what it means."
"They were rescuing a Valkyrie and fighting the Forsaken in an old church." Abigail's brows furrow. "I couldn't see clearly. Everything felt so hopeless." She wraps her arms around herself, shivering. "I…I don't know."
Rissa and I exchange a glance over her head as Rissa curls her arm around the Seer's waist, offering comfort. "We'll figure it out, Abigail. We always do."
Abigail sighs, resting her head on Rissa's shoulder. She looks so small and vulnerable. The sight pricks at my heart. I've seen her in the throes of her visions. They aren't easy on her. They torment her, especially the fact that she no longer trusts them entirely. She fears where they come from and whether the Forsaken have figured out how to manipulate them. Every time she has one, she lives in fear of what it means or if it's a true vision. I don't envy her.
"I'll be right back," I promise, reaching out to squeeze her arm. "I need to see Reaper."
She nods, giving me a tiny smile. "I'm okay."
It's a lie. Rissa and I both know it is. I don't think she's been okay for a long time. But Abigail is a warrior, perhaps the strongest we have.
I hurry from the kitchen in search of Reaper. I find him and his brothers in the room they've dubbed the War Room, gearing up to head out.
My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him strapping additional weapons to his body. He fights with his lyststål. It's part of him. But he's a warrior, never unprepared.
"Solsken," he murmurs, striding forward to meet me. His concerned gaze flits across my face, looking for any sign of my earlier grief. "Are you well?"
"I…" The words are right there on the tip of my tongue—a warning that the man who cornered me in the meeting room is dangerous. But if I tell him now, he'll react immediately. And they won't go in search of this Valkyrie. Not yet. She'll be left to suffer unimaginable horrors at the hands of the Forsaken…simply because a human man frightened me.
He doesn't belong here, and I don't trust him. But the immediate danger is out there, tormenting a Valkyrie. That's what Reaper needs to worry about right now. I can't—won't—let anyone else suffer what I did.
"I'm fine, Reaper," I say, pushing myself into his arms to hug him hard. "I just wanted to tell you to be careful and come back to me."
He tips my head back, pressing his lips to mine. "It'll take far more than a few Forsaken to keep me from getting back to you, little Valkyrie."
A sense of unease settles in my chest as he pulls away to finish preparing. The weight of what lies ahead presses down on me, the knowledge that more than just physical battles await us. The darkness of our world threatens to swallow us whole if we let it. And suddenly, I'm terrified it may swallow us no matter what we do.
The enemies aren't just at the gates. They're everywhere, the shadow creeping closer, threatening to smother us all. I feel it like a stain on my soul. It's overwhelming.
But I refuse to let it win. I don't care what it takes. I won't let it win.
Chapter Nine
Reaper
"If I see the inside of one more Gods-forsaken church…" Malachi grumbles, nudging the toe of his boot at a crumbling bit of plaster as we pick our way through the third abandoned church we've checked. There aren't many more to go. People don't abandon their holy buildings often.
"Afraid you might be struck dead?" I tease, carefully combing through every room in the dilapidated building. I don't think it's been in use in this century. At least not by penitent parishioners anyway. Dirty needles, empty plastic baggies, and condom wrappers litter the sagging floors, making it clear that someone has been here. I don't think they were looking for the Christian God, however. At least not through traditional means.
"I would be, if I believed in their God," Malachi retorts, his grin wide and cheeky. His blue eyes spark with mischief in the dim lighting.
An ungodly bang echoes through the somber stillness of the church, rattling the tarnished stained glass and sending a shower of dust particles swirling in the air. The echo reverberates off the cracked plaster walls before settling into an ominous hum.
Malachi's massive body jolts as he spins around to face the direction of the sound, a startled yelp escaping his lips.
