I snapped my fingers at him. “Thorin?”

He blinked and shook himself. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything for certain anymore.”

Skyla stepped to my side and crouched beside Nate’s body. She patted his jacket and searched his pockets.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

She drew a keychain from one of Nate’s pockets and found his wallet in another. “Searching for information. Maybe he has something useful in his pockets.” She rifled through his wallet, ignoring the cash, but she pulled out a card, similar in shape and size to a credit card. Stamped on its front was the logo for Nastrond Industries.

“They sometimes used magnetized key cards like this to get around in Helen’s warehouses,” Skyla said. “The ones out in Laughlin.”

I had hoped when we left those warehouses, we would never have to return to them. I should have known better. “You think there’s something there?”

“What about the golems she keeps there?” she asked. “Or did Val use them all up in his fight with Thorin?”

I shook my head. “No. If all the shipping containers in that warehouse were full, the golems Thorin destroyed during the fight were a small percentage, assuming those came from the warehouse in the first place. Maybe Helen made up a batch especially for Val.” I wrinkled my nose and resisted the urge to spit.

“Maybe it’s time we find out,” Skyla said. “And while we’re there, maybe we can find something to lead us to Helen or Skoll. We’ve exhausted all our leads in Vegas.”

Thorin stepped closer to us. The vacuous look had disappeared from his face. “Agreed. Embla, Skyla, let’s regroup at the Bellestrella and gather the rest of the Valkyries.”

I glanced at Skyla and back at Thorin. I shook my head. “This is never going to end, is it?”

Skyla patted my arm. “Don’t say that, girlfriend. All bad things must come to an end.”

“I thought it was all good things.”

Thorin grimaced and looked away. “Those, too.”

Chapter 3

Upon our return to the Bellestrella, a dozen or so Valkyries piled into our hotel suite, bringing a low thrum of electric energy with them. Thorin, Embla, Naomi, Amala, Skyla, and I took seats at the dining room table, an impromptu convocation—Knights of the Oblong Table. Embla sat at one end, and I sat at the other. Thorin took the seat at my right hand, Skyla my left. Naomi took Embla’s right hand, Amala her left. We formed a contiguous ring, yet the divide was obvious.

The Valkyries had come to Vegas to help us, but the ties binding the Valkyries to the Aesir were gossamer threads. Skyla’s relationship to Embla might have been the only thing holding us all together. Whatever the reason, I was grateful for the Valkyries’ presence, despite the uneasiness between us.

“You think these things at Helen’s warehouses are golems of some sort?” Embla asked. “Containers bearing souls of the dead?”

Thorin leaned forward, braced his forearms on the table, and looked at me. “Do you remember the night you met Helen and the vision you saw outside the Westmark Hotel in Juneau, when I took your hand to help you from the car?”

“Yes,” I said, “mostly.” I rehashed it for the Valkyries’ benefit. “Thorin stood in front of me in a misty field on the edge of some dark forest. Others stood around him, but a haze covered their faces, and I couldn’t make out details. Somehow, I knew they were angry and ready to fight. They were scared. Their attention was focused on some invisible enemy on the other side of the mist. I remember a dog baying and wolves howling.” I shivered. “There were voices, all hollow and empty sounding. Groaning and shrieking. It was such a horrible noise—it made me want to gag.”

“Among many other horrible things that have no name,” Thorin said, “that groaning and shrieking was Hela’s army of undead. In the final battle, before Surtalogi’s all-consuming flames were released, both sides fought—the army of Odin versus the army of Chaos. Hela raised the souls from her realm to fight on her side. She made constructs for them, bodies of a sort, from earth and rock and mud. The term ‘golem’ is a Hebrew one, but it is apropos for Hela’s creatures.”

“And everything that was done in Ragnarok,” Skyla said, “she’s doing again. We’ve already established that precedent. Helen is expecting another battle. But who is Odin’s army this time? There’s hardly anyone left.”

“Baldur, me, the Valkyries, I suppose.” Thorin leaned forward and braced his chin on his tented fingertips. “Point is, we’re not going to let it get that far. We’re going to kill that wolf, and we’re going to destroy that golem army.”

“Boss Man,” Skyla said. “You’ve been to her warehouses. You can blip over, take a look, and tell us if there are guards or not. Tell us if the lights are on or if no one is home.”

“I think it would be best to wait until after sundown,” Thorin said. “I can move quickly through space, but I can’t make myself invisible. Not without a lot of help.”

“Fine.” Skyla nodded. “That’s step one. Step two is getting inside.” She waved Nate’s key card. “This should help.”

If I insisted on coming along, I could count on an argument with Thorin about my safety. Normally, I didn’t worry too much about our arguments, but the encounter with Nate had shaken me. A renewed fear chilled my blood, but I steeled myself against it. The only way to overcome fear was to face it, choke it down, stomp it out. “What’s our goal?” I shifted my gaze to Embla. “Ultimately, we want to destroy these golems, right?”

Embla nodded. “Yes, but doing this takes our focus off the wolf.”

I raised a finger. “Not necessarily. We’ve been waiting a long time for Helen to make a move. Killing Nate might antagonize her, but destroying her army certainly will, don’t you think?”

She pressed her lips together. Then she nodded. “I see. Swat the hive enough times, and the queen will come out?”

“Exactly. We piss her off and force her into the open.”

“Are we prepared to take down this army?” Naomi asked. “Our numbers are reduced. Many of us have never seen live combat before.”

Embla’s brows furrowed. “It is in our nature, Naomi. Why would you question our willingness to fight?”

Naomi shook her head. “Not questioning. Trying to be prepared.” Her attention shifted to me. “Solina, you’ve fought these things before, yes?”

I glanced at Thorin and Skyla. “We all have.”

“Then tell us about these creatures and what we should expect.”

I glanced at Thorin again and inhaled deeply. “They move like skin and bone, more graceful than you’d expect. More flexible. But they are as tough as rocks, and my fire has little effect on them.” I explained how I’d beaten them before. “Their weakness is their inability to think for themselves. They’re single minded and don’t seem overly concerned with self-protection. Imagine zombies made of flexible stone, and that’s what you’ve got.”

“But have you destroyed one?” Embla asked.

I shook my head. “No. Just outsmarted them. But Skyla shot one, blew apart his head, and Thorin took down a small army of them with his hammer.”

The Valkyries swung their attention to Skyla.

“You shot one?” Embla asked.

Skyla nodded. “It was a big-caliber bullet. The bigger the better, I expect. Sort of like Thorin’s hammer.”

“They aren’t invincible,” I said. “Only a little more durable than the average monster.”

Embla turned and addressed the assembly behind her. “Any more questions, ladies?”

A petite redhead named Siobhan piped up from the back. “Yeah... When can we start?”

After our meeting, the Valkyries dispersed, retreating to their rooms to assess their weapon situation and sharpen their knives and clean their guns, or so I imagined. I sat at the kitchen counter and studied the room service menu. My earlier flare-up had raided my energy reserves and stoked my appetite. Thorin eyed me from across the living room, wearing a thin-lipped frown. I turned my back to him and tried not to care what had made him look dour.

Skyla clapped her hands and bounced on her toes when the food service cart arrived. I lifted the covers, revealing stacks of French toast, pancakes, bacon, and sausage. She beamed at me as though I had revealed the last golden ticket to Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory. Thorin wandered over to where and Skyla and I sat, stuffing our faces. Hands in his pockets, posture relaxed, he feigned nonchalance. It was as convincing as a hungry tiger wandering through a butcher shop hoping nobody noticed him.

I jabbed my fork at him. “I know what you’re going to say.”

His eyebrows arched. “Oh? Do tell.”