Page 74 of Wolf of Ashes
“This one is.”
It would explain why I couldn’t heal the burns on my own. A jotunn’s power is the oldest of old magic. Nearly impossible to counteract. In fact, if the keeper weren’t as powerful as he is, or as ancient as he is, he wouldn’t have been able to heal me. Certainly, no modern witch could have helped me.
I shudder at the recollection that when Jonah’s hands had closed around me, the burn was caused by the residual heat of his palms. He’d shut down his full power by then.
If he wanted to, he really could have incinerated me.
My voice wobbles, but I clear my throat and plow on. “If I accept for a moment—which I don’t want to—that Jonah is a jotunn, then what does that make Vanguard?” I glare at Diavolo. “Or his sister, for that matter?”
The moment I ask my questions, I wish I hadn’t.
Oh, fuck.
The gods make mysterious moves, my mother said.
“Dark saints,” I whisper, trying not to stumble across the sidewalk as I reach for the nearest wall to lean against. Thankfully, it’s the corner of an alley and I can slip into the shadows within it.
Diavolo and the panthers follow me in.
I blow out my next breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “My mother always spoke about the Vanguard siblings with this reverence in her voice. But I never imagined that they could be…”
“Old gods.”
If my heart felt like ice before, now I’m sure it isn’t beating. Since its power belongs to Diavolo, I’m not surprised when he winces and presses his palm to his chest as if his insides are hurting.
“If this is true…” My voice is incredibly strained as I attempt to breathe. “Then which gods are they?”
Diavolo leans against the brick wall to my left. Somehow, he manages to choose the darkest, most shadowy patch, and his form practically disappears against it. “You told me your mother mentioned three siblings: a snake shifter, a witch, and a wolf shifter.”
I give a short laugh. “And you told me that was highly unusual. Which I guess was the first fucking clue.”
“A wolf, a snake, and a witch,” he murmurs. “Unfortunately, I’m aware of three siblings with those powers.”
“Well, fuck. So am I.”
Oh, Mom.
Did she want me to make the connection? I guess I’ll never know.
Suddenly, I’m laughing, a soft and dangerous sound as I verge on losing my mind. “Fenrir—the Wolf of War. Jormungandr—the World Serpent. And Hel—Goddess of Death and the Underworld.”
“Three powerful and unpredictable gods.”
My laughter dies as an eerie calm washes over me. An unsettling silence, during which I silently process the fact that my path to revenge just got so much harder. Even the city sounds seem muffled, but that’s probably because there’s now a roaring in my ears as my blood seems to begin pumping again.
Quietly, I say, “I’m glad I didn’t know any of this when Vanguard—or rather Jormungandr—held his sword to my throat.”
It would certainly explain why the other mercenaries had bowed to him when he first arrived. His quiet confidence. The way his tattoos had sprung to life.
“This might explain why each Ultima Nostra remained so powerful for as long as he did,” I say, thinking it through. “Dark angels aren’t weak, but if these gods stood at their sides for generations, whatcouldn’tthey conquer?”
Then I remember what Vanguard said about his sister and some of my anxiety lifts. “Except… they’ve had a falling out.”
Diavolo leans toward me, and his silhouette becomes visible again. “Vanguard did something to make his sister hate him.”
“Enough to want to kill him.”
“We can use that,” Diavolo says.
