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She shook her head frantically. “I’ll opt for oblivion. Ceasing to exist isn’t such a bum deal. I wouldn’t know if it is.”
“But oblivion isn’t ceasing to exist. You’d know, and you’d go mad, every single second. It’s not a reprieve. I have firsthand accounts from a few…acquaintances who’ve come back from there. While I would be their trophy Lokian in Fólkvangr, would probably be treated as a prize. It might not be my afterlife of choice, but the worst of it is that I’ll have a boss I hate.”
“And you want me to live forever to do what? I wouldn’t even want a mortal lifespan without you. No life would be any life without you.”
“You’ll find plenty of worthy causes to fill your time. And I’ll live on inside you. I would have died a meaningless death if you hadn’t saved me. Now my death will serve an ultimate purpose—your eternity and freedom.”
“No, Vidar,” she wailed. “I won’t let you do it.”
“You have to, my beloved Kara. It’s the only way.”
Vidar cast the silent Kara a sideways glance.
She sat beside him in the car, looking ahead into the night, her eyes unseeing, her lips clamped together.
At least she was no longer weeping.
He wished he could have had more time with her. But he knew the Dísir. Sigrun had pretended nonchalance as she’d left Kara, but he’d felt her chagrin. And her fear. She knew Kara wouldn’t come through and dreaded Freyja’s reaction. They wouldn’t have left them in peace another day, would have forced his hand.
And like Kara had said, once she was immortal again, the pain she was feeling now would fade. It never would have for him, but he hoped it would for her.
He regretted only having to inflict this final injury on her.
He was taking her to his battle. She had to be nearby when he died so that she could harvest his soul.
He brought the car to a stop.
In the warehouse in front of them, there was a sort of a low-life summit between Odin and Thor worshippers. All Endowed. And all hated Lokians with a rabid passion.
Crashing their meeting was a sure way to go.
He turned to Kara. She remained staring ahead.
He should just go. He couldn’t. Just one last kiss.
He dragged her to him, took her stiff lips in a kiss where he poured all his love. She didn’t reciprocate. She wouldn’t say goodbye, letting him know what he was doing was one-sided. She hated him right now for depriving her of himself. He hoped this anger would help her until she could start healing and forgetting.
He left the car, didn’t look back.
He entered the warehouse, and after the initial stupefaction, it was very much a déjà vu of that first night he’d seen her.
He was soon accumulating too many injuries, feeling his life force deserting him. He knew this time Loki would let him go.
He was willing his soul to leave his body and go to her, when suddenly among the haze of agony he felt a disturbance spreading like wildfire, through his abusers, through his abused body.
He raised his head. And she was there. Kara.
He watched in horror as the déjà vu congealed. Some of his attackers charged her. This time she stood there, made no attempt to protect herself. The first one who reached her ran her through.
He heard her cry, watched her fall to her knees, and knew.
She would die. Right here. Before his eyes. They had killed her.
And he went berserk.
He felt nothing more until he was panting over the hacked bodies of his enemies. Kara’s killers.
Then he was crashing to his knees by her side, shuddering apart with heaves of desperation. He gathered her in shaking arms, madness and grief pouring from his eyes, spilling all over her.
