Helltown
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About this ebook
Enjoy all of the books in this series:
Hellish, Book 1
Hellbent, Book 2
Helltown, Book 3
Hellbound, Book 4
Hellraiser, Book 5
Tina Glasneck
USA Today bestselling author Tina Glasneck loves to write all kinds of books and genres (romantasy, urban fantasy, and paranormal romance). But her love and passion are dragons and flawed women who are unaware of their own greatness. Be they shifters, riders, queens, and gods, Tina's passionate about creating a magical world where love, danger, freedom, and power are just a dragon's breath away. One day she hopes to travel to Asgard and see what all the fuss is about.
Read more from Tina Glasneck
Order of the Dragon
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Helltown - Tina Glasneck
Chapter One
Sif
The bridge to Asgard was gone, destroyed, and the first victim of this war rested at my feet.
Harley? I bit back tears. This was my fault. I’d sparked the apocalypse.
Standing on top of one of the only skyscrapers in the city, with a slivered moon overhead, my friend Verdandi behind me, I stared out into the distance. This couldn’t be happening.
Verdandi’s plan to transport us to Asgard had failed, and instead of staring upon the golden city, my gaze rested on the destruction before me: my beloved city under attack.
Thor wouldn’t be coming to save us anytime soon, either.
The fresh image of Lady Hel with her arms wrapped around Thor replayed: they’d struggled, and in one quick moment, she’d pierced him with her blade and they disappeared together into the ether of nothingness, leaving behind the cool crisp air, and Harley’s body.
An unseasonably cold wind whipped my curly hair around my face. I leaned over the edge and looked down at the busy street below. The temperature quickly dropped from a summer’s warmth to a winter’s freeze.
A shiver coursed through me, not from the Arctic chill, but because of the pending devastation.
Water converged onto the city. Ravaging waves battered against the buildings. It was like the world had a fever, a cold even. Today it decided to fight back against mankind.
Magical frost the color of icebergs took form; it crisped and crackled—what was once raving waves of water turned into a bluish ice that began to cover everything wet in its wake.
I tried to block out the screams and panic of those below, hearing only the ancient chant of a long-forgotten Norse prayer, as if transmitted through time and space.
When the frost started to grow, it painted the city in muted shades and dim light; there was nothing I could do to change it.
I stared into the distance. Minimal light danced upon my fingertips, as though it was filtered through a prism. All that wasn’t there suddenly took form. I saw what my eyes could not comprehend.
Magic rose from the frost like steam in shades of purples, greens, and blues. It flickered with sparks of eternity, dragging pieces of this world over to another realm.
Our worlds were crashing together.
Such a frost isn’t going to melt anytime soon,
I said aloud, and stayed put. My feet tried to move. Where would they take me?
But I was wrong. Just as quickly as the magical frost slithered through the waters like a serpent, it unfroze, and began to evaporate.
The ground groaned. I peered over the edge to have a better look. The building swayed. The ground and asphalt cracked and split as a large crater formed.
Out of its depths magical creatures with bluish auras scrambled and then scurried across the asphalt—to divide and conquer, I assumed. They carried swords that glinted in the moonlight.
Dark elves.
Without Thor to protect Midgard others would come to take over. I shook my head. Earth would be invaded by forces that Thor usually kept at bay—like the giants who would surely be next in line to pay us a visit. A shiver rushed through me at that thought.
All my life I’ve searched for a way to belong, to have a voice in a voiceless existence. Now, standing atop this building, with the world below my oyster, I wasn’t sure I wanted it. We all want might, power even, when it doesn’t come with a cost—when it’s easy. No one wanted to sweat blood or cry voluminous tears in search of a hope that might not be received.
Verdandi came to my side. It’s happening,
she said. But I have faith in all things working out for the good.
Verdandi, to me, seemed like my magical guardian. She gripped my hand as if trying to bless me with a strength I didn’t want to bear. I was still unsure as to what she was, but everything I knew about her, pointed to her being something other than human.
Faith was an interesting thing. It could burn bridges, scorch dreams.
My heart thudded inside of my chest like a rocket ready to head back out to space, leaving all of this behind.
Without Thor to protect us, Midgard will fall,
she whispered.
I wanted her words to cleanse me of this unwelcomed burden. Instead, I felt her annoyance and heavy gaze, as if she could push me to react, to be the champion of a world that didn’t embrace me.
The world needed a hero. All that it had was me.
So, what will you do? Thor and Lady Hel have set the dark forces free to purge this world of the cancerous disease of mankind, the evil that seeks to kill us all. Still, the gods have chosen you as their champion.
Verdandi sought to convince me, but with so much compelling evidence before me, I didn’t need to second-guess what was evident.
I am no one’s hero,
I said with a shrug.
Sif,
she began, we must leave now to try to find a way to the gods, and Asgard.
The wind carried my heavy breath. My stomach churned with apprehension, like I’d eaten something spoiled. The tart taste of cowardice rested on my tongue. Just because I’d seen the magical didn’t mean I wanted to be a part of their battle. I shook my head. Whoa.
Second thoughts had set in. "They’ve made this mess. They now need to fix it."
I didn’t expect her to agree with me.
Come, we don’t have much time.
Verdandi held out her hand. Her frown mirrored my own angst. Of all my friends, she was the only one to give me the benefit of the doubt and remain at my side.
This is not my responsibility. The gods created this chaos. They allowed this invasion. Let them deal with it.
I continued to stare over the building’s edge at the city I called home—a flashy city with neon lights, high rises, and expensive foreign cars—to see what the Dark Elves would do now. I clenched my fist. This is neither my mess, nor my problem.
I wasn’t made to be anyone’s hero. Moreover, I definitely couldn’t carry the weight of the world’s salvation on my petite shoulders. Just because they told me I was this thing, this celestial key incarnate, didn’t mean I was willing to unlock any doors. To me, I was human.
There were no special powers. All I could do was climb buildings, flip and stuff, but that didn’t equal a magical being. Parkour did not a warrior make, any more than doing yoga once a week made me a yogi.
I stared over the roof’s edge and saw that the hole had increased in size. The building began to shake again, like the city was hit with an aftershock.
Suddenly, waves of pain gripped me from behind in rapid succession. It spread through my back, ribs and torso. A strong hand pulled me backwards, and I tasted blood on my tongue. I turned. Verdandi stood behind me holding a knife soaked in my blood.
Sorry you feel that way,
Verdandi said.
Blood dripped down my chin and I groaned in agony as she turned me around to face her. I raised my hands to block her, but despite my attempts, she stabbed me repeatedly until beads of sweat formed on her brow.
Sometimes to accept greatness, one must first accept the sting of mediocrity.
She pushed me, and I stumbled backwards, then toppled over the rooftop’s edge.
I didn’t think of what I should’ve done or how I should’ve handled things, even to what had led to this point. No, that would have been too simple.
I threw out my arms wide and fell into the dark hole below.
Chapter Two
Lady Hel
Lady Hel silently transported the remains of her beloved from the skyscraper’s rooftop, and eased them onto the cold, cold ground. Next to his remains she sat, and waited.
Where was Harley? Where did his essence go? Did he travel to Asgard to stay in one of the chosen gods’ halls? Odin surely wouldn’t allow her to have him in her kingdom. She’d know if he were there.
Alone, in the shadow of her formidable estate, on her knees, she dug in silence deep within its woods.
She clawed at the cold damp earth. Her black hand ignored the sharp rocks while twigs cut and scratched her delicate white hand, but this twinge of pain, she ignored. Her glamorous appearance, she’d left behind, choosing to wear her natural form—half beautiful, and half decayed. Not that of the beautiful human woman she’d pretended to be while exiled to Midgard by Odin because of his sensibilities.
The stench of decay wafted up. It didn’t take long for her beloved’s body to begin to change from his former glory, to this empty shell.
Holding back the cry that waited on her tongue, she yanked, clawed, and pulled each clump of dirt out, tossing it to the wind.
She bit back her scream.
Queens don’t scream. They don’t cry. They are not to shed tears, but instead, they plot revenge.
A shallow grave formed; it wasn’t six feet deep, but not too shallow, either. After a little finesse, with a twisting of her hand, she caused her beloved’s still cold body to float into the space she’d dug out for him, and situated him into the grave. She leaned over him and stared at his handsome, lifeless face—a face she’d loved only for moments, while his soul she’d love forever.
Her throat burned as if on fire from tears she refused to shed. Tears never changed anything. They wouldn’t make her stronger, or even a better person. Just apologetic that it happened.
Until we meet again, my love,
she said, then placed a chaste kiss on his cold lips.
One last kiss.
One last goodbye.
It wouldn’t change the words they’d never shared, or the moments that had been ripped away. She tried not to pay close attention to his battle wounds, or think of how he’d received them. Magic pulsated all around her. Instead, she cupped her hands full of fresh dirt, and slowly released it to cover him.
No one could control death, not even the goddess herself.
With all her powers and gifts, the one of life she did not control. Instead, the soul of man and beasts would rise to the heavens to be counted and separated. Those chosen to be reborn would again pass through the Divine Spark; the eternal flame which called back what once was, and birthed them anew.
Only yesterday, she and Harley had frolicked and made love in these woods in the shadow of their home. But today, she didn’t care about the throng of deciduous trees that shed like dead skin, or even the scent of the breeze coming off the river. All she cared about was her dear deceased lover, whom she’d had to bury.
She owed him that much before she returned to Helheim to take up her crown again, and to teach Thor the lessons he’d not yet learned.
Again, she glanced at the house behind her. Everything remained, but there was no life inside anymore. Siegfried, a gentlewoman’s servant, had been recalled to Helheim, just like Garmr, her faithful wolf-hound. Right now, she was alone.
So very alone.
Where is he?
Hel demanded, for she felt Freyja’s presence.
The Queen of Asgard stood over her. Her blonde hair wafted in the breeze. Her lips thinned and back straight. He is at peace, and will find his way again.
"Where is he?" Hel asked. Her fury growing as the death within her hands began to seep into the ground wilting the surrounding green grass.
Freyja paused and Hel knew the answer.
You’ve taken him?
Hel asked.
Freyja nodded.
No matter what, Freyja held the trump card, and had captured what Lady Hel had always wanted. Could true love be vanquished by Freyja’s instigation? Hel didn’t want to think about it. I don’t understand. That wasn’t a battle. It was him protecting me.
It was his being honorable,
Freyja said. Just as Odin likes those men to serve and re-die for his cause, I also take my share of honorable men. I can never give Harley back, either.
Hel closed her hand around a palm of fresh dirt. The nearby trees began to crackle, splinter and crumble. Their bark quickly disintegrated. She shook her head, barely holding on to the cry, scream and curse against the gods. A battle warred within her. She wanted them all to pay.
So, you came here to rub it in my face? What the gods give, they take away?
Hel asked. Who knew that to find his way to Asgard, meant to leave Hel. Love was supposed to heal all wounds, not cause them.
We offered you a chance at redemption, and you destroyed all hope of an alliance,
Freyja said.
Me? That was destroyed when I was made to be an outcast, like my kin. The All-Father saw us as threats. He then made us into this threatening image.
Hel pushed herself up from her stooping position. Her blade formed in her hand.
Do you wish to hurt me, Lady Hel?
Freyja looked down her nose at Hel before her.
Freyja