Hands of Fate 12/?

[hellfirehalos]

It took a while since life decided to throw more at me than usual but here it is...

Chapter 12

 

Dean was the first to wake up; his eyes cracking just enough to see the first rays of sunlight color the motel curtains. He didn't have to see the clock to know it was early. His body told him it was early enough; honestly it told him it was too damn early but he could ignore that. What he couldn't ignore was the smell starting to fill the room.

At first he thought he was dreaming, his sleep addled brain pulling the smell of bacon and eggs out of thin air to torment him. When he came to and the delicious scent didn't vanish, it became an incentive to investigate. The possibility of a hot breakfast didn't hurt either.

He shuffled out of the bedroom, the smell of coffee hitting his nose making him wake a little quicker.

“It never fails to amaze me how quickly some of you humans wake up when you smell food.”

Dean blinked, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Huh?”

From her spot at the small kitchen's sink, Urd watched the young man wake with a bemused grin. “Nothing, Dean. Just talking to myself.”

He shot her a groggy little glare before he looked around the cabin.

Nothing seemed out of place, if anything it looked cleaner. The papers and books Sam had left on the table had been neatly stacked around the laptop and printer, the sister's notebook sitting on the pile of photos. The kitchen had been cleaned up, more than it probably had in the motel's history, with the evidence of the previous night's pizza and beer gone. Even the couch Urd had fallen asleep on had been straightened with the blanket Dean had thrown over her folded over the back.

“You cleaned?” He sounded a little shocked, a confused expression on his face.

Urd pushed herself away from the sink, nodding as she looked over the cabin. “I got bored.”

“Bored?” His eyes moved to the kitchen as he took a deep breath, smelling a breakfast that could rival any diner he had been in. “And that?”

“I told you I cooked,” she answered calmly.

Dean groaned and made his way to the counter, eyeing the brewing coffee.

“It's not poisoned, if that's what you’re thinking.” She gave him a little room as he examined the cooking breakfast, crossing her arms over her chest. “Or drugged.”

“Where did you get this stuff?” Dean took another deep breath, the smell of bacon, eggs and hash-browns joining the rich smelling liquid in his nose. “I know we didn't have eggs and bacon in the fridge last night.”

She moved back to the stove and grabbed the sizzling pan on the burner as she reached for a nearby spoon. “You didn't. I bought them at the little country store about a mile down the road.” She poked at the hash-browns in the pan, giving it a shake. “Better breakfast than cold pizza and beer.”

Dean stared at her slack-jawed as she turned the potatoes. “What did you say?”

“Does Sam usually wake up to the smell of food cooking? He should eat too,” Urd questioned. She looked at Dean calmly, not bothering to answer his question. “I could always just wake him up myself.”

The shock faded to annoyance, his voice holding an edge to it. “You left the motel?”

“Most stores don't deliver, Dean.” She stepped back to open the small stove, pulling out three plates that were warming inside. “We should wake up Sam.”

“You left the motel?” He was practically yelling at her but she didn't seem to care. “You can't just leave the motel.”

“I'm sure that will wake your brother up for breakfast,” Urd muttered, plating the food. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Are you listening to me?”

Urd leveled her eyes on the young man, cocking her head slightly. “Yes, I'm just choosing not to acknowledge what is becoming a tantrum.”

Dean straightened as he heard Sam shuffle into the bedroom door with a yawn.

“Now sit down.” Her tone made it clear that was not a request as her eyes locked on Dean. “Do not make me throw you first thing in the morning.”

Sam's eyes moved from one to the other as confusion clouded his features, his brow knitting. “What's going on?”

“Breakfast,” Urd answered, calmly nodding toward the plates. ”Help yourself, Sam.”

Sam saw the annoyance in his brother's eyes leveled at the young woman. It never was a good sign but first thing in the morning made him a little uneasy. “Dean?”

“You just walked down to the local grocery store to get breakfast cause you were bored?” Dean pressed.

“Would you rather I shaved your head while you slept?” Her eyes narrowed, her tone becoming cold. “And you're overlooking a very important point. I came back.”

Sam's expression changed as he began to register the disagreement in his still sleep fogged head, his eyes falling on Urd.

“You can't just leave the motel when you want,” Dean stated. He watched her eyebrow raise as his own jaw set. “Something could have happened.”

“Like I could have killed someone?” she questioned, a bite behind the sweet sounding voice.

Dean said nothing as she closed the distance between them, an uneasy feeling coming over him as he looked into the deep azure pools. The bite in her voice was echoed in her eyes, a flash of something akin to anger dancing in the clear orbs. He kept a calm face as she stared him, watching her head cock.

“That's what you were thinking, isn't it, Dean?” She sounded so matter of fact as she looked over his face. “That I’d leave here and go on a killing spree.”

Sam cleared his throat, holding up a hand in an attempt to defuse the situation before it turned ugly. “Maybe we should talk about this later.”

“Yeah, that's what I was thinking.” Dean admitted. He started down at the young woman just as defiantly as she looked at him. “And a couple other things. Force of habit.”

An odd smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, her hands resting on her hips. “Oh really? Do tell, Dean. You've piqued my curiosity.”

Sam shook his head as he looked toward his brother.

He wasn't liking where this was heading and, knowing his brother, it wasn't about to get any better if he opened his mouth to answer. There wasn't a good outcome to be had from an early morning fight; there never was. A fight between two nearly identical personalities first thing in the morning just screamed disaster. And the fact that one of those personalities was a goddess didn't help the odds.

Dean's eyes moved to Sam, watching him shake his head before turning back to Urd.

“I know there's something you want to get off your chest so you might as well say it now and get it over with,” she commented evenly.

“Urd.” Sam gave her an uneasy look as her attention shifted to him. “I really don't think that's such a good idea.”

She cocked her eyebrow up, glancing between the two brothers as Dean gave Sam an incredulous glare. “Oh now you really have me wondering.”

“Thank you for the rousing vote of confidence, Sam,” Dean practically growled. He reached out and slapped him in the shoulder. “What the hell.”

Sam cringed slightly, jaw setting as he turned. “She's not exactly a person you want to piss off first thing in the morning, Dean.”

Urd stepped away and toward the kitchen. “He might as well say what's on his mind, Sam.”

The pair looked at her as she set the plates out on the table before taking a seat. The way she watched them sent a chill down their spines; the calm expression on her face oddly disconcerting as she folded her hands in her lap. The way she was looking at them, eyes moving from one to another expectantly waiting for one of them to talk wasn't helping.

“If she wants to know what's on my mind, Sam, then I'll be happy to tell her,” Dean offered.

Sam huffed as he shot his brother a look of disbelief. “You can't be serious.” He motioned toward the young woman watching them. “First thing in the morning and you want to open up to a goddess and chance pissing her off?”

Urd's eyes moved between the two as she ate a piece of bacon from her plate, licking her fingers before reaching for a second piece.

“She wants to know, then I say tell her. If we have to trust her she might as well know where she stands,” Dean explained, staring down his brother. “Even if it gets her pissed or not.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he shook his head. “I swear you have a death wish, Dean. That's the only way to explain this.”

Dean's brow knit as Sam headed for the table. “Explain this? What's that mean?”

“This!” Sam gestured between his brother and Urd to get his point across. “Butting heads with someone who, not only did Bobby vouch for, but who could toss us around like we're nothing.” His tone grew even as he looked right at Dean. “Or are you forgetting the bookstore?”

Urd cleared her throat as she raised her hand to get their attention. “In my defense, the thing at the bookstore was me exhausted. It was all I could do. I'm fully rested now.”

Sam's eyes met the older man's at Urd's revelation, tilting his head slightly. “Fully rested, Dean.”

Dean examined the young woman for a moment, briefly going over the events at the bookstore. It was a little unnerving to know she had been exhausted when she tossed them, even more so to think what she could do now that she was rested. But the woman had wanted to know what was on his mind and far be it from him to leave her wondering.

“How'd you get the money for all this?” he questioned, watching her carefully.

Urd got to her feet, walking over to the young man. “You want to know if I lifted if from you or Sam?” She looked in his eyes, her voice calm. “Don't sugarcoat it, honey. Just spit it out and be done with it.”

Sam watched silently from the table, expecting the worst as Dean looked his way.

“Well, did you?”

She looked at the young man quietly for a moment before bringing a hand up to her chest, reaching inside the neck of her shirt. “I don't know about my sisters but I try to at least keep some money on me. Or some way to get into the bank accounts I have.” She pulled out a small coin-purse, holding it up for Dean to see. “You don't want to know where that goes when I change form.”

Dean took the coin-purse and opened it, taking a look inside. There were a couple bills inside that looked like 20's, a handful of change and three cards neatly tucked inside that he could see. He removed the cards to examine them, holding them up for Sam to see.

“Happy with that answer, Dean?” Urd watched him calmly and crossed her arms over her chest. “They're all legitimate.”

He looked over each, blinking in confusion. “Elizabeth Stanton?”

“It fit better on 'em than “Urd, Goddess of Fate.” And you don't get as many odd looks.” She rested her hands on her hips as Dean examined her ID's. “I didn't use your money, I used mine.”

“Credit card, social security card, a driver's license?” Dean fanned the cards out, carefully checking each. “You can drive?”

Urd sighed heavily. She was beginning to feel like she was on trial the way he was questioning everything. Habit or not, this whole “no trust” thing with the man was starting to get annoying. “I have two cars.”

Dean examined the driver's license, flicking at the plastic. “Looks real.”

“Because it is.” She snatched the license away, grabbing her coin-purse back. “You are amazingly paranoid, Dean.”

“He gets that way sometimes,” Sam muttered from the table.

“Shut up, Sam.” Dean's eyes didn't leave Urd as she tucked the tiny purse back under the shirt she wore. “So you cleaned then went out to buy stuff for breakfast on a whim?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?” Urd questioned.

“Because it doesn't happen to us. The things we hunt don't clean for us and they sure as hell don't cook for us,” Dean answered.

She stared at him for a moment, the silence in the room unnerving to the young man.

Urd nodded slowly as she ran a hand along her hip. “I see.” Her gaze moved to Sam seated at the table, waving toward his brother. “You feel the same way, Sam?”

The younger man shook his head. “No.” He glanced toward Dean, his tone even. “Bobby vouches for you, that's good enough for me.”

She pursed her lips and turned her attention back to Dean. “But Bobby's word doesn't mean that to you. Interesting.”

“Force of habit,” Dean explained.

“You mentioned that.” She gave a small shrug, her fingers brushing against the ring at her neck. “I'm sure it’s that whole hunter mentality. But there is something you're overlooking.”

The brothers exchanged an uneasy glance, Dean clearing his throat.

Urd's fingers clenched, a tightness appearing in Dean's chest. Her eyes grew cold as she pulled her fist back; Dean being dragged across the carpet toward her. Her hand rolled and Dean lurched forward, stopping mere inches from her face.

“I am not your hunt anymore,” she growled.

A flick of her wrist sent Dean across the room, his body slamming hard into the far wall. The motion startled Sam from his seat as Dean hit the wall wood paneling with so much force it knocked the pictures frames from their hooks. Her fist clenched tighter as the pressure in Dean's chest grew and made his breath catch.

“Let me explain this in a way that is easy to understand. I asked you for help. That request was not a trick to get on your good side.” Urd approached Dean, grabbing his jaw and bringing his head forward. “I don't plan on attacking you in your sleep but, truthfully, the urge to kick your ass is pretty damn tempting right now.”

Dean groaned as she squeezed his jaw, looking her in the eyes.

“I asked for your help because we need it. That takes us off your hunt list.” She pushed Dean's head back into the wall. “You'd do well to remember that, Dean.”

Dean's body was sent crashing to the floor as the young woman turned away. He pushed himself up and glared at her but said nothing. He wasn't hurt physically but his pride was bruised.

“Now I suggest you eat and find me a map of this stupid little town,” Urd muttered, sitting down at her plate. Her eyes still hold the hint of coldness as she settled into the chair. “Preferably one that shows the borders of town.”

Sam's brow knit as she occupied the chair across from his. “A map?”

“You talked to Morgan's mom otherwise you wouldn't have known my name. So you know about her dad,” Urd answered.

Dean still glared at the woman as he sat down. “Yeah. The local police are calling it a disappearance.”

“Disappearance.” She sounded unimpressed as she repeated the word. “Nice way to put it.”

“We figured him going missing and you showing up had something to do with each other. So we talked to Sarah Ballard.” Sam took his seat across from her, Dean cautiously moving to sit beside him. “Too much coincidence for it not to be connected.”

She nodded, eating some of her eggs. “It’s no coincidence.”

“So you know where he is,” Dean muttered.

Urd nodded and put her fork down. “General area. But when we get close to it, I can lead you to him.”

Dean shook his head, doubtful. “So what? You're a fate goddess with tracking abilities? Why not just do whatever you just did to me on him?

Her hand rose and her fingers curled, causing the air in front of the boys to shimmer. She turned her hand over as the light from the curtains caught the gossamer threads dancing against her skin. Her eyes focused on them as they skittered between and around her fingertips.

“Every human has one of these. Some of your kind call it by different names; life line, thread of life and string of life are the most common I've heard. It's even been worked into common speech.” Her eyes moved to the young men, smiling. “Few humans have seen these except when in my hands.”

“That's what you meant by pulling our strings?” Sam questioned. He watched the threads curl around her fingertips as if they were living things, responding to her every move. “You literally meant it.”

She nodded, pulling at the threads and giving each a quick pluck. “You really are puppets on strings.”

The pair shivered as they felt a tremble in their chests when she plucked the strings. It was an odd sensation to see her fingers gently snap the shimmering strands and suddenly feel the vibration jolt through their bodies and straight to the bone. Seeing and ultimately feeling what she could do made it seem a little less mysterious but just a little bit creepier for them.

“If I'm close enough to a person, I can grab their string. Two people, like you two, and I can summon them with a thought.” Urd sighed, sending the strings retreating back into their chests. “Further away and pulling more strings means I have to verbally call them to me. But it only works with the living.”

Dean sighed at the words, shaking his head slowly. He had a suspicion about Marcus Ballard's fate when they had been at his house but he hadn't been about to voice it. Oddly, he had been hoping that gut instinct that gnawed at him was wrong and Ballard was living it up somewhere. Unfortunately though Urd's comment had just backed up his nagging feeling.

Sam was just as disappointed by the answer as his brother, a thoughtful look crossing his face. He took a moment to assess the situation before he cleared his throat to get the young woman's attention. When he spoke, his tone was gentle and his words measured. “Urd, can you tell us about when you and your sisters arrived?”

She stared at him quietly for a moment, taking an even breath. “What about it?”

“Can you remember anything about it?” Sam offered.

Urd thought for a moment, scratching her head. She remembered more than enough about it but it was putting the situation into words that would let the two men understand from her point of view that was the hard part. “It was late. One minute I'm standing in my kitchen and the next thing I know I'm waking up in the middle of a field in the middle of nowhere with my two sisters.”

Sam's brow knit at the vague explanation as Dean watched her. “So you're saying you just woke up here?”

“In the middle of a hayfield.” She nodded, looking at the pair calmly. “It hurt too. Felt like every bone was broken when I tried moving at first.”

Dean finally spoke, glancing at Sam briefly. “You'd think someone would notice a set of triplets suddenly appearing in a field.”

Sam was silent for a moment as he ran through a couple things in his mind. “If it was late, someone may not have seen them at all.”

Urd ate as the boys talked, finishing her breakfast while they discussed the finer points of goddesses waking up in rural fields. It wasn't exactly riveting conversation since they were talking about her but they were hunters and it was their job after all. She just couldn’t get enthused about the less than glamorous start to her own case.

“Well someone must have noticed something other than a sudden string of odd deaths,” Dean muttered.

“Should I just show you where we woke up?” Urd commented, pushing her chair from the table. “Might be easier.”

The conversation stopped as she stood up and carried her plate to the nearby sink.

“Show us?” Dean gave her an odd look as he watched her from the table. “What do you mean?”

She put her plate in the sink and turned with a shrug, leaning against the counter. “Maybe it would be easier to wrap your heads around if you saw exactly where we woke up.” She paused to let the words sink in. “Make it a whole afternoon of fun.”

“I think I'll pass when it comes to your version of fun,” Dean muttered.

She waved him off and rolled her eyes, pushing away from the counter. “You don't know my true idea of fun so don't presume.”

Sam cleared his throat to get Dean's attention. When the older man looked his way he gave him a “let it drop” look. He didn't want a round two.

“I have been back to that field a few times since we got here trying to find out how some random person in a Podunk little town managed to get us here. Maybe you can see something I can't,” she explained.

Dean said nothing but Sam gave a nod at her idea.

She gave the two an enthusiastic nod and clapped her hands together as she stepped from the tiny kitchen. “Okay then. Eat your breakfast, you boys have a body to dig up later.” She walked toward the bedroom, calling over her shoulder. “I'll be in the shower.”

They watched as she disappeared around the corner, Dean's voice taking a serious tone. “Can you electrocute a goddess?”

“Dean,” Sam huffed in annoyance.

Dean let out a huff of his own, picking up his fork and stabbing at his plate. “I was just asking."

***

It was hard to have a peaceful breakfast when the person across from you was plotting. A normal cup of coffee or a couple eggs in a diner turned into a covert production complete with creepy half heard mumbles and secretive drawings. It was a wonder the waitress returned to the table or for that matter, hadn't called the cops on the pair at the corner table.

Skuld had long forgone a normal breakfast since coming to this town. A “normal” breakfast had become the three of them sitting at a table in the local diner or coffeehouse, sometimes even a park bench, trying to figure out a way out of town. It may not have been all that “normal” per say but, as far as the three of them were concerned, it was a routine they desperately needed. She had even begun to enjoy it.

She wasn't enjoying this morning though.

Verdandi, when left to her own devices, was a little unsettling. Watching her plot and plan was actually more worry inducing. She was too good at it; the plans just came too easily for her. Give the woman a pad of paper, a pen and a goal and she could go from zero to ruthless in nothing flat.

Skuld watched her sister quietly from across the small table, sipping at her coffee cup.

She was beginning to wonder about her sibling. The earlier revelation about her extra-curricular activities had made Skuld curious about any possible police records Verdandi, or whatever she called herself, had. Watching this though was making her wonder about her sister's sanity.

Verdandi flipped through the pages of the legal pad she had stolen from their captor's house, twirling her equally stolen pen in her fingers as she thought. After a moment or two her eyes would light up and her pen would go to work in an almost frantic scribble against the paper before falling inactive. She would sit like that, staring at her notes, for a minute or two before her scribbles would start again.

“Verdandi?” Skuld tapped her fingertips against the ceramic cup, watching her sister twirl the pen in her fingers. “You gonna eat?”

“Yeah.” The dark haired woman waved her companion off, reading over her latest page. “In a minute.”

“You said that ten minutes ago,” Skuld commented.

Verdandi looked up as Skuld flashed an innocent smile, sighing heavily. “I'm busy.”

Skuld raised an eyebrow as she licked her lips, tasting the bitter remains of coffee against them. “You're making me nervous.”

“How am I making you nervous?” Verdandi shot her sister an annoyed look as she grabbed her fork and stabbed at her omelet. “I mean really.”

The younger woman set her cup down as a waitress passed their table, waiting until she was gone before speaking. “You really have to ask?"

Skuld's answer was an indignant shrug and an egg muffled, unintelligible comment that sounded more like a grunt than anything.

“You have been sitting there since we arrived, mumbling to yourself and writing. You've even chuckled a couple times. It's creepy,” Skuld explained softly. She paused as their waitress came to refill her cup, her eyes on Verdandi. “It’s very creepy.”

Her sister swallowed down her mouthful of food, pointing her fork at Skuld. “I'm working on getting our sister back.”

“You're working on creeping me the hell out,” Skuld hissed.

Verdandi rolled her eyes at the comment, shaking her head. “Everything creeps you out."

Skuld's jaw set as she glared across the table, her eyes narrowing. Her hand darted across the tabletop and latched onto the legal pad, snapping it up before Verdandi could react. Her eyes shifted from her sister to the papers, ignoring the protests across from her.

“Give those back, Skuld,” the dark haired woman growled.

Skuld shook her head, reading through the chicken scratch Verdandi called hand writing. “I'm busy.”

“You're fucking annoying is what you are,” the older woman grumbled.

Skuld's eyes scanned the pages while Verdandi ate; her brow knitting.

“What?” Verdandi huffed as she put her fork down. She knew that look better than anyone. “What's wrong?”

“Well, this reads more like a carjacking than a rescue.” Skuld ran her finger along the page as she read, tapping at a couple things. “Same with these."

Verdandi snatched the pad back as her eyes narrowed. “I don't see you making any plans.”

Running her tongue along the inside of her cheek, Skuld let out a sigh.

They were the definition of sibling rivalry; always had been. In fact, they had probably been the cause behind the phrase appearing in human speech. But Urd kept them from killing each other. With their sister gone, however, their “play nice” routine was beginning to wear thin.

She took a deep breath, pushing back the urge to reach across their breakfasts and punch Verdandi. “Why do you want to steal their car?”

“Call it an added bonus,” the older woman muttered.

“You'd think getting our sister back would be bonus enough.” Skuld sat back as she looked across the table. “But you gotta go for the car too.”

Verdandi finished her omelet, her jaw setting and her eyes cold. “If you don't like my ideas then come up with your own.”

Skuld looked away, shaking her head as she reached for the jelly rack between them. “This isn't the place to fight, Verdandi. Too many people.”

“I'm not fighting.” Verdandi's tone was clipped as she looked over her ideas. When she glanced up the blue of her eyes was colder than before. “I'm just saying that if you don't like my ideas, come up with your own."

A quick search of the jelly to find something other than strawberry was a tiny reprieve from the icy stare.

Skuld had no idea how Urd did it; how the woman managed to keep them wrangled in the way she did. Somehow she managed to keep the bickering between them to a minimum without lashing out. Skuld wished to hell she knew how she did it so she could use it herself. Any type of control would be better than the urge to beat Verdandi with the coffee mug nearby.

Silence passed between them for a moment, the diner noise replacing the clipped and annoyance filled banter crossing the tabletop. Verdandi’s glare settled back on her legal pad as Skuld settled on a package of blackberry jelly for her toast, each of them letting out a sigh that got lost in the background noise. It may not have been much but that small pause helped lift some tension.

“What do you think they've done to her?"

Verdandi blinked at the question, staring at the legal pad. “I don't want to think about that."

“Neither do I but...” Skuld looked up from the piece of toast that had held her attention, raking her teeth over her bottom lip as she paused. “They're different. Maybe they're not the usual hunter types we're used to, ya know?”

Verdandi slowly looked up, raising an eyebrow at the comment. “What was that?”

Skuld gave a small shrug, playing with her toast. “Just a thought."

“You think they're a different kind of gun-toting, track us down and plug us hunters?” The shocked look and raised eyebrows echoed Verdandi's voice as she looked at her sister. “Are you serious?”

“I'm just saying. Not all humans are bad, Verdandi,” Skuld answered. She pointed her jelly covered knife at her sister, lowering her voice. “Remember Charles?”

Verdandi's jaw clenched as a man walked past the table. “He wasn't a hunter."

Skuld's eyes moved from her sister to the waitress who appeared with their bill, acting as though nothing was wrong as she paid. She made sure the woman was gone before she returned her attention to Verdandi. They didn't need anyone overhearing their conversation.

“Charles may not have been a hunter but he proved not all humans are out to get us,” she said softly.

Verdandi said nothing as she stared at the younger woman, cocking her head slightly.

Skuld held up a hand, shaking her head. “I'm not saying I'm suddenly pro-hunter or anything. We just don't know what, if anything, they've done with her.”

“You're giving hunters, a class of humans we've dealt with in the past, the benefit of a doubt,” Verdandi muttered.

A heavy sigh escaped Skuld as she ate her toast, shaking her head.

“Maybe they're gonna use her to lure us out. It wouldn't be the first time a hunter tried that.” Verdandi began to gather up the few things she had brought as Skuld finished her breakfast. “Remember the asshole in Ireland who tried that? His ass ended up buried in a peat bog when we got done with him. And not in one piece either.”

“So you think they'll use her to draw us out?” Skuld tossed her napkin on her plate as they pushed their chairs away from the table. “Use her as bait?"

Verdandi made her way to the front door, her expression serious as she made her way outside with her sister close behind. “It's a thought.”

The younger woman squinted against the morning sun as they exited. She blinked as her eyes adjusted, falling into step beside her sister. Her hands slipped into her pockets as a woman passed by, Skuld's eyes watching her cautiously.

“We just have to get her away from them,” Verdandi stated calmly. She held up the legal pad with a mischievous little smile. “I just have to work out a couple things.”

Skuld rolled her eyes and sighed, kicking at the pavement. “I'm sure you'll figure something out.”

Verdandi stopped as they neared the crosswalk leading toward the square. “And if all else fails, we do things the old-fashioned way.”

Skuld's face went slack as her eyes met Verdandi's. “Old-fashioned” in her sister's vocabulary didn't mean anything good; more times than not it meant violence. Both Skuld and Urd had come to realize that long ago when humans were getting a real foothold in the world. “You can't be serious.”

“Oh yes.” The grin that pulled at the edges of Verdandi's mouth was nothing short of sinister. “We wipe a couple hunters off this rock.”