“What about the mortal realm?” Brandt asked. “What about Earth and all of the humans?”
“They will perish.”
“Wait,” Brenna’s hopes were immediately crushed. “Do you mean that if I use my magic against the plague, humanity will end?”
“Yes.”
“Surely, there must be something else we can do?”
“There is not.”
Brenna looked between the three of them, her eyes begged for another answer. If she did nothing, the plague would infect every world and would result in the deaths of countless beings, both mortal and immortal. But if she used her magic to cure the plague, even though it would end the suffering for the immortal realms, her home and all of humanity would die. It was an impossible choice, one she could not make. Her defiant nature led her to believe there must be another solution, but the Fates insisted there was not. There was not much more to say after that. Brenna thanked the Fates for their insight and left the cathedral, knowing she had a weighty choice to make…save all of the immortal realms, which had many people she cared about living within them, or doom humanity to certain death.
“We need to go home,” she said to Brandt as they found their way back to the Hall.
“I know,” he agreed. “But what of the others, and what about Kemma?”
There was no easy answer here, but Brenna felt it was important to get back to her own world and decide upon a course of action before the dark sorcery was too widespread to contain. Brandt went to speak to the others, and they agreed that Leif, Jerrik, and Colby would watch over her and bring her back with them. As hard as it was for Brenna to leave her daughter on Valhalla without knowing what was ailing her, at least she knew Kemma would be well-protected. As soon as Brandt returned, they summoned Lopt to bring them back to the Manhattan apartment. They would tell him everything the Fates had said, and hopefully, he would be able to help guide them before he left for Alfheim.
When Brandt had come into the courtyard to speak with them, he saw Jerrik and Colby first and told them what had happened with the Fates. Jerrik had gone to grab Leif from his watchful position over Kemma to come to hear what Brandt had to say. They understood why he had to leave and felt sorry for the burden of prophecy placed on Brenna. They, of course, vowed to watch over Kemma and bring her back just as soon as they found out what had turned her personality in favor of lingering on Valhalla. But when Brandt left and the others turned back around to find her, Kemma was gone. And so was Bard.
“Where the hell did they go?” Leif shouted. He was tiring of whatever game Bard was playing, and his growing concern over Kemma was starting to cloud his judgment and restraint.
“They have to be here somewhere,” Jerrik said as he started to walk quickly through the paths in the courtyard. But Kemma and Bard were indeed gone, the question was to where.
“Why don’t you stay here with me?” Bard said to Kemma as he laid her back on his bed. “You like it here, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course, I do,” she said as her breathing became heavier. “It’s so lovely here.”
“And you like me.” Bard didn’t pose his sentence as a question, but more of a statement, as he crawled on top of her and sat on his knees above her hips.
Kemma’s chest heaved as she inhaled and exhaled unsteady breaths. She didn’t answer but instead nodded ever so slightly. It was enough of a gesture that Bard took it as an answer.
“You look constrained,” he said, “even in this loose and flowing gown.” He reached his hand to her chest and started to untie the bodice to release her ribcage that was pushing against it. His hand lingered over her breast as his fingers worked to loosen the ties. “Tell me,” he said slowly. “Which of those men is your lover?”
When she didn’t answer him, he guessed that there was more than one.
“Ah, that explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“Why the god-like one is so protective over you. He fears you will not be his, and it is not just I that am a threat to him. It’s one of the other two as well.”
“He is not god-like,” Kemma said defensively. “He is a god.”
Bard laughed. “Yes, my apologies, I know that. There is, however, a difference between men who have lived the life of a god, and one who has not yet had the pleasure. Leif, that is his name, isn’t it? He is still merely playing at being a god.”
The laces came undone, and Kemma’s breasts spilled out from the opened bodice and into Bard’s waiting hands.
“I will guess it is the bigger of the other two men who is your other lover? He seems less intelligent than the smaller one, which explains why he acts unaffected as though Leif is not a threat to him.”
“You seem to think you know quite a lot.” Kemma’s lucid thoughts fought to bring her back to her normal self, but there was a fog surrounding her mind. It made her feel like she was swimming around in her own head.
“That is because I do know quite a lot,” Bard mused. “Tell me, if you were to choose one man to have you in this bed right now, who would it be?”
“I cannot answer that.” Kemma fumbled over her words. Even without the haze covering her, she had promised her love to Leif, and yet she felt a loyalty to Colby still. And to make matters even more complicated, she was now feeling a physical reaction to being seduced by Bard.
“Let me try to help make that decision easier for you,” he said as he pulled up her skirt and ran his hand up her thigh.
Kemma squirmed.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so,” Bard smiled. He touched his fingers to her and used them to open the delicate folds of skin between her thighs. When he began to rub them against her and push them inside of her, she felt a warm arousal come over her like a hot dream.
But something wasn’t right. It didn’t feel like she was supposed to be enjoying this. She fought against her body’s reaction and remembered looking in Leif’s face as she had been killed. This wasn’t the feeling she wanted. She didn’t need fingers or cocks within her. She needed the soft, embracing hugs Colby would give her, and the longing, loyal looks Leif bore into her soul with his eyes. She didn’t want this.
“Stop,” she said.
And Bard did.
But just as he was pulling his fingers out from within her, the other men discovered where they were. Leif saw Bard sitting on top of her, and there was nothing that either Colby or Jerrik could do to contain his rage. He burst past both of them and ran to the bed. He grabbed Bard by the neck and tilted his head back with one hand, bringing a blade swiftly to his throat with the other. Kemma was still pinned beneath his legs because Leif had him rooted in place.
“I’m going to kill you,” Leif snarled at him.
“I’ve already died,” Bard snickered insultingly to his face.
“We both know you can die again.” Leif pressed the knife into Bard’s throat, and the sharp steel began to slice through his skin enough to show blood seep down onto his shirt.
“Tell me what you did to Kemma,” Leif said as he glared at Bard’s face, which was dangling in his grip. “And why you want to keep her here on Valhalla.”