Page 35 of Inferno

“Fucking Odin,” he mutters.

“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned Odin. Who the hell is Odin?”

Inferno stares at me for a long moment like he’s debating what all he should tell me. It’s a little too late now for second thoughts so his hesitation only frustrates me.

He closes the distance between us and guides me to the couch. Pushing me down, he sits next to me.

“Have you ever heard of Valhalla?” he asks.

“You mean like the mythological warrior heaven?”

“Yeah. Only, it’s not so mythological.”

I rear back as if he struck me. “What do you mean, it’s not mythological? Of course it is. There’s no such thing as life after death.”

“Yeah, Emmy, there is. Like I told you before Odin interru—” He presses his lips together at my look of confusion. “Odin is my god. He rules Valhalla.”

“Riiiight.”

“He stopped time to give me shit about telling you the truth. That’s why I magically jumped from one spot to the other.”

My mind races with all the information assaulting it. As much as I want to argue with him, to shout at him how impossible it all is, I don’t.

Why?

“Anyway, it was me who saved you from that fire. And you’re right, I died that day. I’m the same…”

I tune him out as the sense of déjà vu washes over me. I know he just told me all of this, but if he’s telling the truth, time stopped. How much time is the question because the déjà vu is there, but I’m also struggling to recall the details of everything he said.

Or maybe he didn’t give me too many details.

Who the fuck knows?

“Emmy, are you listening to me?”

Inferno is waving his hand in front of my face to get my attention.

“Uh, yeah.” I rub my temples to ward off the headache I know will be coming. “But none of this makes sense.”

“I know. And I don’t know a better way to explain it other than to tell you to trust me.” He grabs my hands in his, and warmth spreads through me at his touch. “I was meant to save you then, and I’m meant to save you now.”

“Save me from what?”

He frowns. “Your stalker.”

Shit. I forgot about that for a hot minute.

A scary thought niggles at my brain, and I yank my hands out of his and jump to my feet.

“What’s wrong?” he demands.

“You could be my stalker,” I accuse. “You showed up at the same time, and now you’re telling me this unbelievable story. Maybe you’re the crazy person I need saving from.”

Inferno calmly stands, but he doesn’t move closer. “Emmy, I know how this all must look,” he capitulates. “But I swear, I’m no threat to you.”

I want to believe him, I really do. And if I’m being honest with myself, I sort of do. As impossible as it all is, and as nuts as it makes me, I believe every word he’s telling me.

But I’m not an idiot.

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