Page 60 of Veil of Blood and Bone

The leader drops into a feral crouch and snarls, the white and gray fur on its neck bristling. These kitties are cute enough to make a kid squeal and violent enough to split bones with a single chomp.

“Norwegian forest cats from Jötunheimr. Fantastic. Murder kittens.”

My chest clutches through the smile.

“Love that for me.”

Hard and fast, I loop my shadows around my fist and lift it to my sternum, magic throbbing and ready to be unleashed.

“You’re going to be challenging to round up. How many of you are there?” I do a headcount. “Five, great. Where there’s five, there are more prime numbers.”

Of course, the giant frost felines don’t smile back at me. My gaze drops briskly to the circling rogue kitties.

Shadows bend from my fingertips like eager things. I dart quickly, hauling myself up and swinging over the group. One of the cats darts up to nip my heels, and I kick it square between the eyes.

It lands with a yelp, shaking his head.

“Now get the hell out and go be someone else's problem. I’m busy.” Centuries old and somehow I’m still herding magical cats through haunted forests.

The lead cat leans closer like it's considering its next move and how worthy a meal I’ll be. Then with a dismissive sniff, it paws the earth and takes off. The last fluffy ivory tail disappears in the mist.

“Smartest decision you’ve made all day. At least it didn’t take much to deter you.”

The further I go, the less earthly or recognizable my surroundings become. The veil is too thin. The nexus points are bleeding into one another.

White flowers spear up, and the trees are a mixture of rotting and alive, blackened and green. Their thick branches strain toward an unforgiving sky. They twist around each other, locked in eternal embrace, some arching back to skewer into the ground.

What the actual shit has Odin done now? The Norns are not going to be happy with him for going this far out of bounds. Someone should have been dispensed to patch this.

Before some other Dökkálfar senses opportunity.

Despite the season, I pass bushes and trees heavy with full spring bloom. Through the gloom, light blazes and bobs, the hazy yellow twinkle flickering and disappearing behind another warped tree trunk.

There are monsters here.

I let out a breath that devolves into shaky laughter.

The answers are always hidden in the thin places. My mother said so. You have to be willing to look where others are too scared to tread. Like a damn fool, I always dove in head first.

“Unless it’s not Odin?” I touch down and creep through blueberry-colored shrubs.

“Talking to yourself again, Wren? Awful habit. I thought your parents beat it out of you when you were a sprite. Mine certainly did.”

By the time I turn to Sabine, my smirk is pinned in place. “Who let you out of your cage, darling?”

My sister’s best friend lifts a hand and the gauzy amber glow I saw before coalesces on her palm, sparks igniting on the dead leaves at her ankles. In the gleam I catch her flash of interest, a furious calling of a different kind.

The awful creature used to be interested in what I’d be able to provide for her.

Now, I’m not sure if she knows any differently, but her attention is stitched through with intent. Jaw clenched, I force myself closer, balancing on the balls of my feet and ignoring the cold, solid darkness in my head.

She sniffs and I dig my fingers into my palm. “We’ll call it a well-earned sojourn.”

“Out hunting murder kittens?” I ask.

“Please. I have better things to do.”

A Dökkálfar out of bounds. Interesting. Called it.