Page 12 of Tyr

“You brought her here?” said Hermódr. “You never bring a client here.”

Tyr nodded. He’d never brought anyone to their house. “Do you remember the demon who helped me out a couple decades back? The one who could read minds?”

“Sylax,” said Vid.

Tyr cocked an eyebrow. It surprised him that Vid remembered his name.

“The girl upstairs is his daughter. She’s been injured. Badly.”

“Not by Sy…”

“Absolutely not. Sy asked me specifically to keep her safe. So, I am. I don’t know yet who hurt her, but…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. His meaning hung in the air. If Sy didn’t deal with the man who’d hurt Celeste, Tyr sure would.

Tyr stared at the bottle of whiskey for a long minute and listened to the sounds of Hermódr and Vidar cleaning. After Vid dropped the glass shards into the trash and put away the broom, he sat next to Tyr.

“How bad is it?”

Tyr shook his head. “Her face is such a mess it’s hard to tell for sure without a closer inspection. He hit her with a metal bat all over her body. Who knows what is broken? Her cheek, for sure. Her eye socket. And one arm and at least two fingers. Probably ribs. And her legs barely hold her weight so maybe something there. I counted at least half a dozen burns on her arm. They resembled cigar burns.”

Her sapphire eye with red tinged edges swam in his mind, and he grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took two gulps.

“Shit.” Herm leaned against the counter opposite them. “What are we going to do about it?”

Tyr shook his head. “Sy’s dealing with it. He only wants her protected.”

“We should take her to a doctor,” offered Vid.

“She won’t go. She said she should heal quickly. I’m still concerned and…”

“And?”

“I need to see the extent of her injuries to know if I should call someone, but I’m not sure she’ll show me. After the way I left her, she’s probably as scared of me as she is of theguy who did it.” He shook his head, not understanding his visceral reaction. He’d seen women injured before. Beaten and battered. And it had inflamed him. Incensed him. Caused him to want retribution. But nothing, nothing had caused such an uncontrollable reaction like the one he experienced.

“I barely controlled the rage at seeing what had been done to her.”

“If you explain, she’ll understand,” said Vid.

Tyr ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t want to push her, but I need to at least monitor her healing over the next twenty-four hours.”

“Tell her that.”

“I will, I just?—”

A blood-curdling shriek sounded from upstairs.

Tyr leapt out of his chair and jumped to the upper floor walkway. He ran for his bedroom and punched in the code. He grabbed the knife from his boot and pressed a button on the side of it as he raced into the room. His knife lengthened in his hand to a full-sized golden flaming sword. Tyr scanned the room.

Celeste sat on the bed, clutching a pillow and using it as a shield. Above her, a giant falcon flapped its wings, talons out, ripping at the pillow.

White feathers sailed in every direction. Tyr dropped his sword and rushed forward.

“Yegret! Yegret! Stop!” He stepped between the bird and Celeste and covered Celeste with his body.

Yegret slashed his back, tearing into his shirt and burning his skin with a deep cut.

“Yegret,” yelled Hermódr. “Bed!”

“Come on, you senile bird,” said Vidar. “Get in your cage.” Vid opened the door to Yegret’s enclosure. “Freak, when are you going back to Valhalla? I tell you, pets should not live this long, even ones belonging to gods.”

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