Hide and Seek (True Destiny Book 6) Read online

  There’s nowhere she can hide from his love.

  True Destiny Book 6

  Antonia “Toni” Mancinelli, former cop and newborn Valkyrie, has agreed to look for a missing Goddess. An easy thing for a tough, South Philly cop, right?

  Ha. Nothing with this crew is easy, and Toni has discovered that the least easy of them all is determined to take over her life. Worse, no one can find who took Sydney, not even a man who can observe the whole world at once: Heimdall, the Guardian of the Bifrost Bridge. Without his help the odds of finding the missing Goddess will be nearly impossible, but resisting his advances will take the case from difficult to downright insane.

  Nikolas de Witt, aka Heimdall, fell in love with Toni the moment he met her, but like the Valkyrie she is she's fought him valiantly at every step. Using his missing friend's disappearance to smooth his way with his lady love would be considered reprehensible if he wasn’t aware that Toni cared for him right back. His skittish female might think she can hide her heart from him, but there's nothing in this world or any other that will stop him from claiming what is his.

  Swords and sorcery dodge their steps. Nik must save the girl to get his woman, or everything he’s worked so hard for could be lost.

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Dana Marie Bell

  PO Box 39

  Bear, DE 19701

  Hide and Seek

  Copyright © 2017 by Dana Marie Bell

  ISBN: 978-1-946966-30-8

  Edited by Tera Cuskaden

  Cover by Angela Waters

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Edition electronic publication by Dana Marie Bell: July 2017

  Prologue

  Someone was on the Bridge.

  Heimdall opened his vision, well aware that more than one set of sandaled feet had pressed against the rainbows that made up the Bifrost Bridge. As the Guardian, it was his job to protect the ways to all of the worlds the Bridge connected to. Keeping the dead from crossing to Midgard, or the Jotuns from storming Asgard, all of it fell upon his shoulders. But those coming up the Rainbow Bridge were no threat, not to anyone but Heimdall.

  Heimdall winced. How had the Nine discovered…

  Of course. The greatest of gossips was linked to Yggdrasil, the World Tree. Ratatoskr the Squirrel carried slanderous words from one end of Yggdrasil to the other, from the Great Eagle at the top of the tree to the wyrm Nidhoggr who lived amongst the deepest of Yggdrasil’s roots. Nothing escaped Ratatoskr’s ears. Heimdall’s ever-growing discontent would be ripe gossip indeed. And the Nine were closely tied to Yggdrasil. The talk would reach their ears faster than Sleipnir in a race.

  Heimdall understood why, once the Vanir were defeated by the Aesir, each of them had been given positions of honor by Odin, the leader of the Aesir. Tyr, leader of the Vanir and of the Lios Alfar, was still the God of Justice. Nothing could truly take that title from him. It was how he was shaped. Njord retained his title of Lord of the Seas, while Freya was still the Goddess of Beauty. And so Heimdall remained Guardian, even if Odin had little understanding of what the title Guardian truly meant.

  But what enraged Heimdall, what made him wish desperately to crush Odin, was the redistribution of Alfheim into Alfheim and Svartalfaheim. The light elves and dark elves now called Frey their lord, but Frey made it obvious that he preferred the company of the Lios Alfar. The Lios Alfar were treasured and treated as such, while the Dökk Alfar were considered lesser than they’d been. Frey, as their lord, made his favor clear, much to Heimdall’s dismay. Bringing them back together was no longer possible. The Land of Light and Shadow had forever been divided.

  Frey was not lord of the elves, either light or dark. He never had been. And what he was doing to both races was abominable.

  Svartalfaheim, the realm of the Dökk Alfar, was filled with toy makers, artisans, and weapon smiths, while the Lios Alfar was filled with bards, artists, and actors. The Dökk Alfar had been closely allied with the Lios Alfar. They exchanged ideas, making each realm a true paradise for elven kind. No one had denied the beauty of either the realm of Light or the realm of Shadow, for each had their place in the World Tree.

  But Frey was the lord of sunshine. A god of Light. And neither shadows nor darkness had any place in his world, for both diminished him. As such, the Dökk Alfar, the Dark Elves, were viewed with suspicion, no better than Jotun in the way Frey treated them. Had he grasped the depths of Frey’s hatred of the Dökk Alfar, Heimdall would have killed him rather than allow the Dark Elves to be subjugated by his Vanir brother. Frey had hidden his loathing well to avoid Heimdall’s gaze.

  Worse, the Light Elves now viewed themselves as above not only the Dökk Alfar but the human race as well. They declared their home, once Lios Alfheim, to be Alfheim, the home of the only true elves. They called the Dökk Alfar dwarves, mocking them, writing plays and jests about their weakness, while all the time Frey clapped and laughed as if he’d never broken bread peacefully at the Palace of Shadows. Dökk Alfheim became Svartalfaheim, a last, brutal display of Frey’s hatred, for svart meant black. Thus, some took to calling the Shadow Elves Black Elves instead.

  Of course, all would be restored in time. The Vanir would be avenged, the conqueror overtaken and slain. Frey would no longer rule over the elves, light or dark. And all it would take was one man’s love and loyalty to another. A man all thought incapable of love, let alone loyalty.

  Loki.

  Loki would be the catalyst of the Vanir’s triumph over their oppressor. If only Heimdall could tell them, tell his brothers and sisters that this fate was not theirs to live forever, he would be free of the burden placed upon him by the Nine. But he could not, would not break his oaths, and thus the elves suffered whilst he, alone, stood watch and waited. Waited for the day Odin was brought to his knees. How he wished he would be the one to take down their oppressor and free his people, but it was not to be. Another held that honor, and that horror.

  “I sense your pain, my son.” The first of the Nine reached him, placing her hands on his shoulders. Her beautiful face was kind, her hair filled with sunshine, for it, as well as her eyes, glowed with its own light.

  “Be strong, my son.” The second of the Nine reached him, touching his hand in sympathy. Her green eyes were wise, her hair decorated with summer flowers. Her scent brought back memories of a simpler time, when Odin had been nothing but a rumor on the wind.

  “It will take time, but you will be freed.” The third of the Nine’s touch was so cold it burned. Her skin was the color of snow, and her dark hair glittered with shards of ice.

  The fourth of the Nine’s gaze burned, and the ground at her feet smoked. “I will help you when the time comes.”

  “As will we all, sister.” The fifth of the Nine’s changeable cloak swirled around her in rainbow colors. The axe and mail she wore reminded Heimdall sharply of the Valkyrie, the warriors who carried off the worthy dead to Valhalla.

  “No one will take you from us.” The fierce tone of the sixth of the Nine matched her attitude. She, too, wore a breastplate and wielded an axe, but she was of sturdy build and tall, with legs like tree trun
ks and arms that touched the sky.

  “Be at ease. Our son sees all and will protect us with his last breath.” The seventh of the Nine embraced him tightly. The smell of earth and wind and homemade bread filled him with love, for she had been the one to nurture him the most.

  The eighth of the Nine snorted in disgust. “But will he keep to his word?” The hiss of her breath stole his own from his lungs. Death crept upon him but there was no fear, for it was not his time. The eighth protected him as well, in her own fashion, and when the time came she would be the last mother to hold him. She would cradle him gently, as she always had, so how could he fear her?

  “He will.” The last of the Nine smiled at him. Her dark hair swept across her face, highlighting her silver eyes. A cloak of mist and shadows surrounded her, but she held on to the hand of the first of the Nine, her silver nails digging into the first’s flesh and leaving behind crescent shapes in her skin. “Because he must.”

  Heimdall bowed to the women who’d created him and loved him with all of their hearts. In turn, he loved them, guarding them ferociously from any who would do them harm. “Ragnarrok will come, and when it does, I give my word that I will be ready.”

  And he would enjoy every moment of it.

  Chapter 1

  Toni took a deep breath. Hell, this was the worst possible time to chicken out. A woman’s life was on the line, and Toni had promised she’d bring Sydney home. She had no idea what sorts of things Frederica Grimm had in store for Sydney Saeter, but it couldn’t be good. The woman had turned her back on her grandchildren, had refused to acknowledge her son’s lover or his pregnant wife—which sounded bad until you realized that Kir, Logan, and Jordan were all three lovers and adored one another—and had also refused to completely turn on her ex, Oliver Grimm. That Sydney was at Frederica’s mercy made Toni’s skin crawl.

  There were times when she wanted to board the Nope Train to Fuckthatistan, but the others would only find her and drag her back into their weird-ass funhouse.

  Unfortunately, she’d been pulled off an important homicide case to babysit Sydney and Sylvia, two Norse goddesses who’d somehow gotten on the wrong side of Frederica Grimm. They’d escaped, but Frederica had managed to get ahold of Sydney by somehow luring her out of the magically protected condo complex. How Frederica and her cohorts had managed that was still a mystery. The only thing Toni and Sylvia could think of was that Frederica had threatened Sylvia or one of the others.

  Antonia Mancinelli did not go back on her promises. She’d sworn to get Sydney back. That meant knocking on the door of the man who terrified her the most out of all the nut jobs was going to happen, no matter how badly her hands shook.

  If she were being honest, they all made her a little afraid at one time or another. They were gods, after all, and could smite her with a single glance.

  Finding out that Jordan was not only the granddaughter of Odin and the daughter of Frey, but the lover of both Baldur and Loki—aka Kiran and Logan—had been a shock. More of a shock had been discovering that each of the Norse gods was alive and well and living in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, or its outskirts.

  And they were at war with one another. Oliver Grimm, the ex-leader of the gods, was trying to regain his title from Kir. Frederica and her friends wanted to kill Logan. And Kir’s crew just wanted to live in peace. But with Ragnarrok coming, that wasn’t going to happen. Odin, aka Grimm, wasn’t going to allow that. Worst of all, the prophecy so many of them had lived by had proven to be either inaccurate or misleading. Odin had spoken the prophecy as given to him by someone else. Toni couldn’t remember that part, but it didn’t matter right now. He’d lied to everyone, setting into motion the necessary elements of his own downfall.

  She’d gotten involved when she’d been assigned to look into the murder of Oliver Grimm, the same Grimm who was trying to kill Kir and Logan. He’d been in charge of Grimm and Sons, one of the largest, most profitable corporations in America. Since Grimm’s “disappearance”, Frederica was running the company. Many said she did a better job of it than Grimm had done, but she had Henry and Luther Grimm, Oliver’s brothers, to help her. The two had remained loyal to her throughout the whole war, choosing their lover over anyone. Toni hoped she inspired that sort of loyalty in Ni—

  Whoever I come to love.

  For a while, Toni had been convinced that Mrs. Grimm had offed her husband, but while homicide had been brought in, she’d had no evidence to prove her case other than a large amount of blood that turned out to be non-human, and the simple fact that the man was missing. The spouse was usually the first suspect, but she’d been proven wrong there, too.

  She’d sensed something was truly off-center when her partner managed to get a warrant for the arrest of Val Grimm and Travis Yardley-Rudiger without any physical evidence linking them to Grimm’s disappearance. That was when she’d met Vali the Avenger and Tyr, God of Light and lord of the Lios Alfar. They had introduced her to everyone else, and the rest, as they said, was history.

  “How long are you going to stand there before you finally knock?”

  Toni nearly jumped out of her skin at the soft, deep voice whispering in her ear. She’d been so caught up in her thoughts she’d been standing there, hand raised, for who knew how long. She whirled around, ready to beat the shit out of Nik DeWitt, but no one stood in the corridor behind her.

  His chuckles filled the air around her, but the son of a bitch wasn’t there. “Fuck you, Nik. We need to talk about Syd.”

  “I told you to back off on this one.” Nik’s tone was grim, but at least the door to his condo had opened. By itself. Gah, she hated it when he showed off.

  Toni stepped through to find Nik sitting on his sofa, a mug of what smelled like coffee in his hand. He was studying paperwork strewn about his table while soft music played in the background. “She’s hurt more than you said, and I promised to bring her home.”

  Nik didn’t even glance her way. “Keep out of it.” Finally, those brilliant silver eyes landed on her, sending shivers down her spine. The bastard was too handsome for his own good. Dark, almost black hair framed a face kissed by the angels. Others thought Kir the epitome of beauty, with his glowing blond hair and bright blue eyes, but to Toni, Nik was the perfect one. “I mean it, Toni. Things have to move in a certain pattern or we’re all lost.”

  She snarled, trying to ignore the effect his gray eyes had on her. Part of her wanted to run away screaming. The other, larger part wanted to watch as they warmed with passion. Just thinking about it made her heart race. She had to get her head back in the game and out of his pants or she’d never make it out without the information she needed. “Let me guess, this has something to do with the Fates.”

  Nik went back to his paperwork. “If that’s what helps you sleep at night.”

  Ugh. So stubborn. Toni remembered the first time she’d met this particular member of the freaky funhouse. She’d helped rescue Jamie Grimm from Odin, almost losing her own life in the process. She’d lived only because Logan shared his blood with her, giving her the ability to heal and ultimately activating her super-powers.

  She was still asking herself how a simple homicide detective from South Philly had found herself surrounded by living legends. Norse Gods? Jotuns? Valkyries who took the deserving dead to Valhalla?

  And she was one of them?

  Oh hell no.

  Perhaps she needed a CAT scan to check her brain, or some serious drugs, but the truth was she really was one of them. She’d proven that when she healed Jamie and when she’d gone all badass Lara Croft on a bunch of assholes who thought they could come in and kill her newfound friends.

  Ugh. Friends. She’d become part of Kiran Tate-Saeter’s over-inflated God Squad, and strangely enough, she was enjoying the madness. At least she wasn’t bored.

  Toni crossed her arms over her chest, well aware she’d taken on her stubborn cop stance. She’d get answers or Nik would regret it. She tried not to shiver as the image of him tied down
to her bed, at her mercy, flooded her senses with desire. “Tell me about those patterns.”

  Nik rubbed his hand over his eyes. He looked tired, and for a moment concern outweighed aggravation and desire. “If I could, I would, but to do so could possibly change the pattern, allowing Grimm to win.” He put his mug down on one of the only clear spots on the coffee table and stood. He faced her with an expression she’d seen more than one perp wear. Nik wasn’t going down without a fight. “You know what happens if he does.”

  Yeah, she did. Oliver Grimm wanted to take command of the Aesir and Vanir back from Kiran. He’d used the apples of Idunn to control them all, turning them into his puppets, leaving them vulnerable to whatever he pleased. Now that she was one of them she was at risk as well.

  Toni shivered in disgust. Grimm had disguised himself as her partner, Daniel Solberg, and almost destroyed her life and career. He was the one who’d tried to kill her. He’d also made it more than clear that he’d love to fuck her if she were open to it.

  She wasn’t, not even the tiniest bit, not that it would matter to Grimm. She shivered in fear and disgust. If Grimm got his hands on her she’d be raped, tortured, and killed. There was no sense in glossing over what the man would do to her. She’d seen it in his eyes. He’d take her, willing or not, and he’d make sure she had no way out. What he’d done to Slade, Logan’s son, was an abomination. Slade would take years to get over the abuse he’d suffered. Grimm had skinned him, whipped him, beaten him, and tortured him to within an inch of his life, allowing him the chance to heal before starting all over again.

  And he’d done it for centuries. Slade still woke in the night, screaming himself hoarse from the nightmares he’d never be completely free of. And Grimm had never tried to rape him. She was pretty sure Grimm would have done all he’d done to Slade to her, with the added advantage of forced sex. With her Valkyrie nature awakened there was no way to tell how long he would have held on to her.