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Chapter Seven

I n the longest ninety seconds of her life, the time it took Carys to stop laughing so hard that smoke rolled from her nostrils, the goddess finished her Diet Coke, pulled her right foot out from under the opposite leg, and scooted forward until her butt was perched on the edge of the seat.

She didn’t have to look through the glowing Eye of Metis to know that Liv and Dade were getting closer.

She could feel it in her bones. It was always that way when someone she really loved was nearby.

She needed to get up and make her way down the long hallway to the foyer.

She needed to greet her friends with a warm smile and a happy hello.

She needed to be the same Hel they depended on and expected and called their friend.

If she didn’t, there would be hundreds of questions she couldn’t answer.

“Besides, I love that silly Valkyrie and crazy Wolf. I really do.”

But she couldn’t do it. Well, that wasn’t exactly the truth.

Physically, she could do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted.

After all, she was a goddess and all that happy horse shit.

She could literally move mountains, move between Realms, and Magic pretty much anything from anywhere to anywhere that she wanted.

She was a force to be reckoned with and was tougher than nails. She was smarter than a whip–not only in what the humans called ‘book knowledge’ but also their all too popular ‘street smarts’.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve lived a helluva long time, done a lot of things.

” She slowly nodded. “Physically, and let’s be honest, Magically, I could already be at the door, have it open and be standing there waiting.

” Inhaling so deeply that her shoulders rose then fell when she exhaled, she added, “The whole thing runs into problems when my brain kicks in and my emotions get involved in the whole freakin’ shebang.

On those two fronts, at least since, let’s say Halloween, and leave it at that, I pretty much feel like a wet noodle, and the worst thing about it is that I have no one to blame but myself. ”

Oh, yeah, the Norse goddess of Helheim felt as if she’d made her bed and was obligated to lie in it. What sucked the most was that the SOB was a lumpy, bumpy pile of uncertainty with a ton of regret sprinkled on top and a bag of peas hidden somewhere underneath.

“I need to get over it,” she sighed. “I mean, come on, Helly girl. Get your shit together. You got what you thought you wanted.”

And she had.

The plan had been simple and executed to perfection.

Hel waited until the last minute when she knew the soiree would be filled to the rafters with guests and the Omnipotent Being known as Destiny would be in full-on party mode, playing the hostess with the mostest with the panache only she could produce.

Then Hel called Arawn and told him that she’d been held up.

She explained in great detail that she was helping Garmr solve a problem.

And… because she did not ever lie, she made sure she was indeed doing just that.

Of course, her cousin quickly said not to worry and that he would take care of everything.

Ari knew how much the Wolfman meant to Hel and because she and the Welsh god of Annwn had pretty much been peas in a pod since they were children, that meant Ari liked Garmr too.

The conversation took less than a minute.

She should’ve felt better–and she did for a couple of days.

After all, she’d gotten what she wanted, right?

She didn’t have to go to the stupid party that was only happening because Destiny and Fate wanted to make it impossible for Hel to stop avoiding the man made for her by the Universe, the one and only Cowboy Wannabe, Hopper.

She just wasn’t ready to face the world with a dazzling smile. Nope, not just yet. She was trying to come to terms with the polar opposite thoughts and feelings simultaneously happening and creating a constant–and argumentative–debate between her heart and her head.

Her heart, well, it was telling her to go to Hopper, tell him why she’d been avoiding him for centuries and beg for his forgiveness.

Then pray that he accepted her explanation and her apology.

On the other hand, her head acknowledged that the Omnipotent Being known as Hope was her One True Fated Mate, but it also refused to let her forget the hundreds of times she’d been told how horrible she looked, how scary she was, how unlovable and undesirable she was.

Even Angrboda had gotten in on it. That mother-child bond that the humans always talked about, the one Hel secretly longed to have, was nowhere to be found. For as long as she could remember, her mother, the Giantess had looked at her with disdain and scorn.

Hel’s first memory was of Angrboda’s deep, rumbling lisp roaring through the walls as she screamed at Loki to take the half-dead abomination to Asgard and destroy her. In that moment, the goddess had woven an impenetrable shield around her heart believing that would protect her from the pain.

Sadly, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

The taunting and teasing had come from every direction. Most didn’t even try to hide their revulsion and there were some who went out of their way to say the most hurtful and horrible things right to her face.

As she got older, Hel got tougher and learned to create a Magical facade that hid her dead side. After months of practice, it was so close to perfection that even other gods and goddesses could see it. Then she and Carys were joined and her life got infinitely better.

But there was still her mother. It didn’t matter how hard Hell tried, how many times Carys told her not to pay Angrboda any mind, or how many times her father told her that she was perfect just the way she was–a little piece of the goddess’s heart still wanted her mother’s approval, her mother’s support–her mother’s love.

Sadly, it never came. If anything, the situation reached new levels of low that even the deepest Pit of Lucifer’s Hell had not seen. Then, right before Hel received her godhead, it became apparent that Angrboda would never be the mother the goddess needed, deserved, and craved.

It was one of the most influential and defining moments in the goddess’ life.

There was a party in Asgard. Freyja had planned everything, along with the goddess’s newest friend, Liv. It was supposed to be a surprise, but of course, the Valkyrie, along with Hel’s lifelong friends, the Omnipotent Beings Fate and Destiny, knew how she felt about surprises and opted to tell her.

They also dropped the bomb that not only would her father be there, but Angrboda and her entire Percussion of Giants would be in attendance. It was the first time in years Hel had thought about her mother, the first time she’d truly examined the Giantess’s actions and more importantly, her words.

Angrboda was more calculating and more scheming than any other. She always had a plan. She was a master manipulator, the Distress Bringer in every sense of the word, and sadly, the bitch had used all her skills to mentally and emotionally torture her daughter.

It didn’t matter how old she was, how Powerful she was, how much Magic she possessed, and how many times the people she truly loved told her that she was absolutely, positively none of the colorful, disgusting adjectives her mother used to describe her.

It still hurt. The scars were deep. And the voice of the little girl she’d been all those years ago, the one who Garmr had saved from the sticks and stones thrown by nearly everyone, refused to be quiet.

Unable to stop the deluge of memories, Hel focused on one in particular, the one from the day before her party.

The day not even Garmr could erase or stop.

Angrboda had shown up at Hel’s door with a smile on her grotesque face and hate in her heart. At first, the Giantess had gushed and beamed, even kissed both of the goddess’s cheeks. She’d acted motherly, something she had never done not even on the day Hel was born.

She presented the goddess with a birthday cake from Sif, Thor’s wife’s bakery.

It was her favorite, a Bl?tkake, a light vanilla sponge soaked in fruit, drenched in cream and topped with lingonberries, blueberries, strawberries, raspberries, and red currants.

She’d insisted they eat the sweet treat right away and even made egg coffee with cinnamon, cardamom, and allspice, another of Hel’s favorites.

Their brunch, as Hel thought of it when the memory forced its way to the forefront, lasted for several, excruciating hours during which Angrboda told the goddess how smart and beautiful she was.

It was quite literally the first time she’d uttered those words and solidified the fact that she was after something.

So, Hel bided her time, smiled politely, and showed the appropriate, albeit fake, appreciation. And of course, unfortunately, that kept her mother talking.

She went on and on, retelling stories she’d heard from others about Hel’s childhood, her life, and her accomplishments but made it sound as though she’d been there and as if the goddess didn’t remember that she most definitely had not.

It took everything in Hel not to laugh at the grand production, the manipulative attempt to make the goddess believe her mother had loved her and taken and interest in her.

Hours later, the pretense of motherly love, support, and adoration reached heretofore unseen levels, and all the while, Hel was forced to bite her tongue and fight her gag reflex to keep from throwing up on the Giantess’s ugly swollen feet.

She envisioned screaming at the top of her lungs, punching her mother in the face, and launching Magical fireballs at Angrboda with wild abandon.

Thankfully, although their connection was new, Carys was there to help the goddess not lose her temper and stay sane.