Page 52 of Veil of Blood and Bone

Helene gasps but it's the only outward display of emotion she allows herself.

“Stay back.” She glances over her shoulder toward Audra once. Only once.

Then she moves, a part of the wind, as vicious and cold as the tempest, on the offensive.

I take a step, stop. Assess, fight the lust, search for detachment. Find nothing. This is not a clash I’m prepared to let her undertake alone. Not when the last was so much fun.

Let’s see if this argr is strong enough to take us both on at the same time.

I fall into pace with Helene’s charge, and blades sing in my grip as I slice them across the troll's abdomen and upper thighs. It isn’t sufficient to bring him down. I don’t need to cut him into pieces.

This is the opening gambit and part of this blood play.

His weakness will slow him down so Helene has ample time to move in for the kill, as she was born to do.

A laugh bubbles free, and green ichor drips from the tip of my blade. Grinning like a fool, I lift my forearm, parrying the troll’s furious punch and absorbing the energy from the strike.

The creature snorts and stomps forward, leaving a trail of blood splattered over the sidewalk.

“Tell me this isn’t a waste of time!” Helene shouts. “Tell me we have a shot at taking this beast down.”

The troll turns her way and charges, a rumbling growl cutting through the silence of the street. Somewhere in the distance, another car horn screeches, the sound drawing Helene’s attention before she swings.

Her hit goes wide.

Currents blow stronger with the bitter bite of an oncoming blizzard. Magic buzzes along my arms, sweat pooling at the small of my back from exertion.

“This isn’t a waste of time, love,” I assure her.

Whether she believes me or not is an entirely different story.

Wind kicks up, and the troll arcs for Helene. Since I’ve decided to keep her, to add her to my treasures, it’s not acceptable. The way her golden hair glows, the shine of her eyes and the tilt of her face when she lifts it to the sky⁠—

Hunger without a name surges inside of me and tingles my fingertips. “Leave it to me.”

The troll is certainly one of Kari’s. Yes? I know the designation, the features, the clothing.

Its face has gone craggy with age, a hoary, bearded thing, made old by the winter. Any creature who chooses to work with Kari ages with the season, from slender youth in the spring to this wrinkled beast when the breeze changes.

Cold batters and blusters my skin rather than stroking like a lover.

Kari himself is reclusive, preferring to pull the strings from his cave in Niflheim. Who called for his aid?

I shake my head, resisting a spike of pain, the knowledge as hazy as my memories.

Helene swipes at the troll with a yell, her cheeks cherry red and her eyes burning.

I’m going to tangle the thing’s snow white beards and send this frost-coated grandfather into a justified grave. Until it grabs me and chokes down, stealing air from my lungs. Helene regains her balance, topples, kneels. Confused as magic pulses and cracks my bones.

I shift and the raven bursts free from my skin and flies upward. Riding the thermals, I circle the troll.

It brings its fist down toward Helene’s head, and I dive. Talons swipe its eyes and drag grooves through its wrinkles. Blood sprays from the wounds, steaming in the open, and the creature roars.

Helene trots out of the way when it turns, losing its equilibrium, the screech of voices on the storm reaching an apex.

Trolls are cruel, nothing but a body to be used, and unable to stop until they’ve fulfilled their purpose. It goes down hard on its knees and long shadows creep against its feet like water at a lake’s edge. I know those shadows.

I dive toward it again, calling out a warning, the shadows flutter, leaves of a wind, before they retreat.