Foretold - Rinda Elliott MIRA Ink

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so dark a brown it was nearly black. He had more of it, though, from what I could tell with it tied back from his face. I wondered if, like my branch of Norse ancestors, his had settled in to mix with the locals. He didn’t look much older than Vanir.

      Vanir touched his brother’s arm. “She’s hurt and needs to see Sarah.”

      “She?” Ari chuckled and stepped to the side so I could pass. “Only you would find a girl in the woods.”

      “Her car’s in the new river.”

      “New river?” One black eyebrow lifted high.

      “The crazy weather changed things up a bit around here.”

      Ari leaned close, his gaze zeroing in on the throbbing part of my head. I was guessing there was a nice, fat lump there now. “Better get her inside,” he murmured.

      Vanir held out his hand for me.

      I didn’t hesitate, just placed my cold hand in his. This time, it wasn’t my imagination. Comfort flowed along my skin, seeped into my pores.

      He tugged on my hand, pulled me toward the front door. “You haven’t told me your name.”

      Vanir rubbed his thumb over my wrist. The fluttering in my gut went wild. I followed as he pulled me through the door into a brightly lit room that made me squint after being in the dark so long. Instant heat nearly sent me to the floor in relief, the smell of wood smoke strong, welcome.

      Another man who looked a lot like Ari, but older, sat on a red plaid couch, his cast-clad foot propped on a battered wood coffee table. He looked up when I came in, eyes narrowing.

      “Your name?” Vanir prompted.

      “Sorry. It’s Raven. Raven Lockwood.”

      The brother on the couch sat up; his cast-clad foot hit the floor. Hard. Vanir stopped abruptly and I ran into him before he turned and grabbed my shoulders. “Did you really just say your name is Raven?”

      Startled, I didn’t answer at first.

      Ari stepped past us and carefully set his brother’s cast back on the scarred surface of the coffee table, which looked like it had been dragged behind a pickup. “So...not only did little brother find himself a girl, but a trickster, too.”

      Chapter Four

      Despite the promise of more bone-chilling cold, I stepped back toward the door. In my world, magic was reality, so even though I’d never encountered any, mind readers could exist. That was the last thing I needed—for these guys to know how not completely honest I was being.

      Vanir glared at Ari. “Don’t mind him—he’s taken one knock too many playing football.”

      “What?” Chuckling, Ari plopped onto the couch. “You’ve never heard the stories about the bird? Like the one about the raven who stole the sun?”

      “Yeah, I’ve heard them. Didn’t that raven end up sharing the light with the world?” I wasn’t sure it was the same story, but didn’t really care. The cold had reached bone depth at this point and the effort to keep my teeth from clacking loudly made my jaw ache. Crossing my arms, I winced when my freezing, wet clothes made a loud sploshing sound. I looked at Vanir. “Why are you reacting to my name like that? It’s not like you don’t have weird names yourselves.”

      He gave me a rueful smile that pursed the lips to one side. “Our mother was Scandinavian. The brother on the couch? He’s the oldest and he got the worst name, Hallur.”

      Hallur lifted an eyebrow, but then he shrugged and nodded in agreement.

      Vanir grabbed a huge blue towel from a pile of unfolded laundry on a red ottoman in front of the fireplace and handed it to me.

      I buried my face in the warm cotton, glad it was a dark color so the blood from my head wouldn’t stain it. The heat felt so good I wanted to jump into that pile of fire-warmed laundry. Then I was happy my face was covered because Vanir took a deep breath and I knew what he was about to tell them.

      “Something happened to Steven. I think someone was chasing him—I got distracted when I heard Raven’s car crash, but when I finally caught up to him, it was too late.”

      The cast thumped to the floor again. “What do you mean, too late?” Hallur demanded.

      “I mean, he’s dead.” Vanir’s voice shook on the last word.

      I lowered the towel even though the last thing I wanted was to be in this room and seeing their expressions right now.

      Hallur tried pulling himself up. Sweat broke on his face with the effort and I wondered how fresh his break was. He smacked the arm Ari used to push him back down. “Dead? What do you mean, dead? How?”

      “I don’t know how, but we need to call Uncle Willy now. I’ll change into dry clothes and take him back there.” Vanir pulled off his wet sweatshirt and threw it onto the brick hearth. He didn’t seem to care that I was watching as he hauled up a clean red towel and wiped his chest. He had those intriguing lines along his ribs, defined abs. But his expression kept my attention. Now that we were out of the cold—temporarily—and not fighting snow, the truth about his friend had to be hitting him hard. He kept his gaze off me, but his grief was there in the cut of his lips, the lift of his eyebrows.

      Swallowing the hard lump of sympathy clogging my throat, I forced myself to look down, dismay filling me when I saw the puddle I was making on the floor. I immediately knelt with the towel.

      “I’ll get that. Here are some dry clothes you can use.” Vanir stood over me with a pair of black sweatpants and a white long-johns top. He turned back to his brothers. “I tried CPR, didn’t know what else to do.” The raw torment that passed through his eyes brought that lump back into my throat. He was holding off his misery with barely leashed control. “I hated leaving him there, but I had to get her out of the cold.”

      Hallur scraped his hand along his jaw. A log in the fireplace crackled loudly as he winced and shifted, a confused frown darkening his tanned face. “Did it look like he fell? Hit his head? Was there blood?”

      Vanir shook his head. “He was just lying there, staring at the sky. But I heard him running—I’m sure someone was after him.”

      “But who...and in this weather? Hell, most of the town has shut down. People are hibernating—they put off opening the school. We got the call tonight.” He shut his eyes. “I don’t believe this. Steven was only seventeen.”

      Ari abruptly stood and strode past me to open the closet next to the front door, his lips pinched. He pulled out a thick coat, grabbed two flashlights and handed one to Vanir. Hallur picked up the cell phone next to him and started dialing.

      “Call Sarah, too.” Vanir set the flashlight on the coffee table and pulled a blue sweatshirt from the pile of clothes. “Raven needs her head checked.”

      I cleared my throat and carefully did not look at any of them too long. I didn’t really think they could read my mind, but I knew I couldn’t keep the guilt off my face. My mother might have done this played liked a jammed track in my mind. “I don’t need a doctor. If it would be okay, can I borrow these clothes and maybe have someone drive me to—” I broke off. To where? I had no money, nothing. Everything was in my car.

      Vanir tucked a strand of hair behind his ear in a gesture that should have looked feminine, yet didn’t. He still held his sweatshirt bunched in his hand. “Bet your purse or wallet is somewhere in the river. You can stay here. We’ll try to get your stuff tomorrow.”

      Ari stood by the door, expression grim. “Take me to Steven, Vanir.”

      “No.” All our attention snapped back to the oldest brother when he barked out the order. One word and everything came to a stop. “Wait for the sheriff before you go back.” He pointed to Vanir. “I want to talk to you. Alone.”

      He started pushing himself

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