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I grit my teeth and grab her wrist, applying pressure to get her to loosen her grip. It's the only choice left. She won't willingly release Abigail. I don't think she can. And I can't compel her to do so. She's resisted every attempt. Her will is forged from steel.
Her hand spasms, loosening for a split second. I move with all the speed of a Fae, hauling her off Abigail. I land on my back on the floor with her partially on top of me. She's limp in my arms, her Light still blazing.
She stops screaming almost immediately. So does Abigail.
"Jesus Christ," Stephan Anderson, one of the Blooded warriors, whispers from the doorway, his piercing eyes wide. Idon't know when he arrived, but he's crowded in the kitchen along with Reaper, Malachi, Adriel, and Damrion, gaping at the woman sprawled across my chest. Hisímun-laukrhangs forgotten in his hands. "What the fuck was that?"
"The Light of a Valkyrie," Reaper responds. He's seen horrors that would break most men, but even he looks rattled. "Alone, their Light is fierce. Together, it rivals the Gods. In battle, they were the most formidable weapon the realms ever had. Though, I've never seen one link with a Seer before today."
"Me either," Malachi says, eyeing Rissa with a newfound respect. "I've never seen one so powerful on her own before. Ever."
"There's never been one this powerful," Damrion agrees, carefully checking over Abigail. The girl has fallen still, but she hasn't awoken from her vision. She lies quietly, her face pale.
Rissa still blazes like the sun in my arms, though her Light slowly dims as her fury fades. I sit upright, hauling her into my arms. I keep her close, running my hands through her hair, murmuring to her. Trying to soothe her back to herself. I don't know what to expect when she wakes, but I'd prefer not to have a repeat of this morning.
"Did she share Abigail's vision?" Malachi demands to know.
"It certainly looked that way," Adriel growls. "As soon as her Light engulfed Abigail, she went to screaming."
Everyone falls silent, processing this. It's a big deal. Abigail has been our only set of eyes for the last few years, but she doesn't always understand what she sees. She's still young, with no frame of reference for the visions the Gods visit upon her. She does the best she can, of course, and we don't fault her for that. But an extra set of eyes? Someone who may understand the things she does not? It's a tempting consideration for my brothers.
"That could be useful," Malachi mutters.
"Nei. I won't allow it," I say, finality in my tone.
"Nor will I," Damrion agrees, his tone an even match for mine. "The Valkyrie has no control over her Light. I won't put either of them through that just to give us an advantage."
"We may need it," Reape argues.
"We've lived without it thus far." Damrion meets his gaze, his unyielding. "We'll continue to do so unless we have no choice. We don't harm those we guard. Not for any reason. And you saw what just happened. They were in pain no Valkyrie or Blooded should ever feel."
Adriel mutters a curse, but he doesn't disagree. He can't. He saw the same thing we did. He knows the visions cause Abigail pain on their own. Amplifying them like Rissa just did only caused her more. We won't do that to either of them willingly.
"Dax."
My gaze flickers to Rissa. Her eyes are open, anger sizzling in their depths. Pain swirls there too. She remembers.
"Elskan-ljós," I breathe, relief washing through me in a warm flood. "You're awake."
"Abigail."
"She's well,bittesmå ljós."
She nods, pushing herself into an upright position in my arms. She ignores everyone in the room, focused solely on me. "Take me back to Seattle. Right now, Dax."
"Easy,elskan-ljós," I say, trying to put her mind at ease. "Easy. Everything is okay."
"Take me back." She scrambles to her feet, her face paling as if every muscle in her body aches. But she doesn't complain. She simply places her hands on her wide hips to glare down at me. "I mean it. I have to go back right now."
She's panicking, what she saw and what just happened pushing her to the edge of what she's willing to handle. I can't blame her for that. This world is brand new to her, and thus far,it hasn't been a walk through the Shining City. But Seattle is the last place she needs to be with Forsaken on the loose.
"Elskan-ljós…" I bound to my feet, fully aware that Stephan and my brothers hang onto every word we speak. They watch every move we make. If I can't soothe my Valkyrie, they'll give me nine kinds of hell later.
"You have to take her," Abigail interrupts before I can find an argument to convince her that all is well. "The Forsaken know we have her. They're going to kill everyone she knows one by one until you take her back."
"Faen," Malachie breathes.
"Is this what you Foresaw,ást-meer?" Damrion asks Abigail, holding out one hand to pull her into a sitting position.
