Read Hunted (The Iron Druid Chronicles, Book Six) for Free Online Page B

and participation, so if you keep him busy we’ll be in good shape.”
    “How do you know this?”
    “Loki’s been looking for me for about four months now. Well, he’s been sleeping for most of it, but still. Hel didn’t make a move in all that time except to protect him.”
    Roksana, the witch with a mass of curly hair tightly bound behind her in a ponytail, spoke up in her properdiction: “You want us to keep him charmed for an extended period?”
    “Yep.” I grinned at her.
    Malina snorted. “This man is extremely unstable, and it will take a lot of work to keep him calm. You saw that it took several of us to subdue him just now. What do we get out of this, Mr. O’Sullivan?”
    “Well, you get a world without Ragnarok, for starters. And I can buy you all some of those shiny black boots you tend to like.”
    “That is unacceptable. I might as well let him go right now.”
    “You’d help bring about the end of the world?”
    “He seems to want to end you first, Mr. O’Sullivan. So tell me why shouldn’t we let him go.”
    “I can score you some Girl Scout Cookies. You can’t get Thin Mints in Poland, can you?”
    “Be serious.”
    “Samoas, then?”
    Malina simply glared at me.
    “All right,” I said, “what do you want?”
    “You have given me the impression that we’d be not only saving your life but saving the world. We need more than cookies for that.”
    
    “Understood, Malina. But what? I don’t know what you think I can give you.”
    “I want Poland to be free of vampires.”
    A silence grew in the field and Granuaile eventually broke it by saying, “Is she trying to be funny?”
    “When and for how long?” I asked.
    “After Ragnarok comes and goes or in a year: If we are here, and you are here, and vampires are here, you keep Poland vampire-free by whatever means necessary.”
    “All big ifs. But, all right, it’s a deal: One month of keeping Loki captive equals one year of vampire-free Poland.”
    “That is acceptable.” We shook hands on it.
    “By the way,” I said. “Hel has this hound called Garm, who can track anything, even across planes. She will send him to find Loki. When he does, Hel will bring an army of the damned to protect her father. Good luck with that. Oh, and Artemis and Diana are on my tail, so they’ll be coming through here soon looking for someone to shoot. Bye. Gotta run.” I gave her a short wave and took off running west. Granuaile and Oberon followed.
    “What?” Malina’s outrage was plain. “Mr. O’Sullivan! Come back!”
    I grinned and kept running. It wasn’t every day I got the best of Malina. I was sure to pay for it in the future, but in the meantime you have to surf the waves that come your way, and this one was super shaka nar nar.

Chapter 6

    I cannot share the euphoria I feel, because Atticus would take me to task. His eyebrows would draw together and he would attempt to convey through his expression how very, very old he was, and as a comparative youngster—even a whippersnapper—I could not possibly know how inappropriate it would be to feel euphoric. But I cannot help but feel that way, even though we are running for our lives. Because we are running fast through satin darkness with strength coursing through our bodies, a percussive corps of hooves and paws tapping out a rhythm of flight, clods of earth kissing us farewell and swishes of grass caressing our ankles, like the soft fingertips of mothers who don’t want to let their children leave home but know that they must; they let go but keep contact as long as they can, extending hands and arms until their children finally pass beyond their reach, and then they feel sad yet proud and live on a kernel of hope that someday their children will come back to them and say, Mother, I am home. That is the source of my euphoria: I feel a mother’s love with every step I take on the earth.