My phone went off a moment later. “Jane. We need you.”
I set off at a sprint back home. It was dark at this point, the ravens had faded into the night or gone back to Asgard. Getting there, I found Thruor and Kanesha gearing up.
“What’s going on?”
“Seb just called and said he has a real problem. He couldn’t give too many details.”
That didn’t sound good. I went for my sword and gun, tucking them both under my coat. I wasn’t sure what I’d do in summer when coats would cause even a goddess to overheat.
Not much I could do about it. “He at least gave a location, right?”
“He’s over by the Jefferson Memorial.”
I nodded. Outside, two of the valkyrie bikes waited. Thruor hopped on one. I took the other and Kanesha jumped up behind me. I did wish the steed would stick around.
Except, of course, I wasn’t a valkyrie and Thruor had implied I never would be – that Odin had other things in mind.
Probably because valkyries didn’t marry. It was not right that they were virgins, but they were expected to stay single and avoid kids.
Made sense to me. I had to…I knew I had to marry somebody, some day. I even had a short list in my head.
I leaned forward and gunned the bike after Thruor. Kanesha clung to the back. She had a sword – she knew just enough not to be a danger with it.
Whatever Seb had found, we were bringing all the firepower we could. Maybe. Thruor hadn’t called any other valkyries, so she thought we could handle it.
She probably had some idea what it was and thought this would be good training. Along the mall, past a surprised cop. I hoped he wouldn’t pull us over for speeding; of course he’d have to catch us to do so and he seemed more interested in making sure nobody drove right up to the base of the Washington Monument.
Around the Tidal Basin. We saw the fight before we heard it, surprisingly enough. Clara was working on a spell. Seb was outnumbered by four, five figures. They weren’t vampires. I would have smelled them.
I hopped off the bike without stopping it, trusting it to bring itself to a proper halt. Kanesha dropped and rolled and came up in almost as neat a stance as I did.
“Thruor, who are they?”
“Fomor,” she said, grimly. “Don’t be afraid to kill them. They’re a kind of fae. A nasty kind.”