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Émilien shook his head. “No, but his words will be branded in my brain for eternity. He said, ‘I am death, guardian. Beware, for your path is connected to one who is life to me and mine. I’m here as a warning. The search for your brother must not continue, for the one holding him is too powerful. Olivier is not meant to be found.’”
He slammed his fisted paw against his thigh. “Iwillfind my brother, if it’s the last thing I do,” he growled. A soft chill covered his paw, and he glanced down to see Hel’s hand on his.
“If Shalendra can’t find him, thenwewill find your brother, Émilien. Together.”
A tug pulled at him, as if something had reached out and grabbed the fur covering his back. His body jerked and, without thinking, he pulled Hel to him, as they were wrenched toward the Bifröst.
Heimdall jumped up and ran toward them, his handsome face twisted in fury. Wanting to meet whoever this was head on, Émilien twisted around, but instead of the normal beauty of the ice, all he saw was what looked like an ink dot speeding toward them. At its center, a black mass roiled and undulated like a boiling cauldron as they were sucked into its depths.
10
Hel squeezed her eyes closed as a massive wave of dizziness pushed her farther into Émilien’s tight embrace as they hurtled through space. She dug her fingers deeper into his thick fur, holding onto him like a lifeline. Thankfully, her body was indifferent to the cold. Her mind, though, was on warp speed as she tried to figure out what was happening.
Heimdall’s surprised expression as she and Émilien were pulled toward the Bifröst was telling, but his immediate fury told her they could be in trouble. This was not the gatekeeper’s doing, so who was pulling the strings now?
Daring to crack open one eyelid, she took comfort in the safety of her werewolf’s strong embrace as she stared out into the universe. The speed of their flight and the way the planets and nebulas seemed to be heading directly at them forced her to close her eyes again and say a little prayer, something she wasn’t used to doing for anyone or anything—but this was terrifying. She had only space traveled one other time in her long life, and she had hated it then, even though Freyja told her she would outgrow her distaste. Evidently, she hadn’t.
“We’re slowing, Hel. Brace yourself and be ready for anything,” Émilien’s gravelly voice said in her ear. She nodded, unsure what he meant but trusting him. In all the time she had known him, he had never put her or Shalendra in any danger. He was the ultimate protector when it came to those he loved, so his determination in finding his brother and sister-in-law were unsurprising. However, that trait did not apply to her realm, so she couldn’t help but wonder how willing he was in helping her find out who was stealing souls.
She felt the decrease in their speed and forced her eyes open. The large, blue planet hurtling toward them looked familiar... “Isn’t that—”
“Yes, it’s Midgard, but what time? We would not have been pulled this far along the timeline to be returned to Earth’s current time.”
“Why would someone pull us back in time?” Hel tilted her head back to see his face and wished for the millionth time she could see the elf she had fallen in love with. While the wolf was an incredible creature, she missed his beautiful Elven face. And less hair. She had never been fond of hairy men and had been quite pleased to discover Émilien’s lack of body hair their first time together. His long, black hair was another matter. She loved its softness and how he wore thin braids at his temples then pulled back into a single braid that hung down his back.
Lifting her gaze to his, she waited for his response, but all she got was a silent shrug. “Do you even know if we’re in a different time?”
“No. Just a guess.” His grip around her tightened. “Hold on.”
Turning, her eyes widened as they sped toward a brilliant expanse of blue, and then they dropped low enough, she could make out the massive shadows below the water as a pod of whales swam underneath them. Her gaze was once more drawn upward as they flew past a snow-covered land mass to find themselves over another ocean.
In the distance, a dark-brown expanse of earth appeared. This time, she recognized the dramatic landscape of hot springs and lava fields left from volcanic eruptions. A plume of heated water sprayed upward as one of many geysers erupted. She would recognize the small island of Iceland anywhere. Émilien had compared her personality to it many times.
Their speed slowed even more as they crossed what she now recognized as the Atlantic Ocean. A mere couple of minutes later, they skipped over another island and channel of water before dropping through a small cloud bank, close enough to follow the white beaches as they spread into fertile plains with flowers and grasses as far as the eye could see. The farther in they traveled, hills spread out before her. Some turned back into green-covered fields while other hillsides dropped into wide flower-filled valleys with blue streams snaking through them.
"I wish we could have arrived a few hours earlier, so I could see the sunlight.” She gave him a rueful grin. “I’m beginning to think I will never see it.”
“I promise I will show you sunlight, but right now we need to focus on shelter. I recognize this area,” Émilien said, pointing one claw toward a small village. “I first knew this place as Turnacum, a Roman military camp founded in the mid-1st century AD. In the early Middle Ages, it was occupied first by the Franks and then destroyed by the Normans. Later, the Merovingian king, Childeric, ruled the territory and aided the Romans in driving Attila from Gaul.”
“What is it called now?”
“Tournai. If Belgium had been less settled, I would have built my home here instead of France. Olivier and I used to visit the small European country often. Such a beautiful place, and the people, friendly. From the looks of the current village and the lack of stone buildings, I would guess maybe early fifth or sixth century?” His black gaze met hers. She wasn’t sure she liked the ornery sparkle in their depths either. “Now, let’s hope whoever is flying us doesn’t drop us in the town’s square for all to see. We’d be hunted down in no time.”
“I hear the humor in your tone and don’t find it at all amusing. The last thing we need is a mob of terrified people after us. We don’t exactly fit in with this world.”
He tucked a claw under her chin and, using the side of his first finger, turned her head. “No worries, love, we’re past the village and speeding toward the mountains ahead.”
“Do you know what’s there?”
“If I’ve guessed the right time, nothing but nature.”
She heard the hesitation in his voice and turned back to face him. “What are younottelling me?” She held up one hand. “Don’t even try to lie. I’ve always known when you were leaving things out, just like now. What haven’t you told me, Émilien?”
They stopped in midair, halfway up the closest mountain, and hovered just over a small clearing surrounded by trees. Slowing lowering, her feet touched a grassy spot, the ground soft and spongy. Hidden somewhere in the thick branches of a large spruce tree came the happy chirps of a bird. A narrow path wound around the wide trunks and disappeared in the forest. She inhaled, smelling the crisp air and wondrous blend of trees and sweet flowers growing in clumps here and there.
Émilien lifted his head and sniffed before turning to her. “Follow me.” He led the way along the path, which wound through large evergreens until ending at the dark opening of a small grotto or cave.
Hel narrowed her gaze, trying to see more, but the darkness was too great. “Not answering my previous question isn’t going to get me to stop asking more questions. Where are we?”
