Runes.

Seeress.

Ednah Walters.

"Wet, drenched through, and shivering cold, despairing of ship or boat, we lifted up our eyes as the dawn came on," I read. "The mist still spread over the sea, the empty lantern lay crushed in the bottom..."

I studied my father's face and my heart squeezed. Moby-Dick by Herman Melville was one of his favorite classics, yet even that couldn't hold his interest anymore.

"You stopped," he said slowly, his voice low and whispery.

"I thought you'd fallen asleep," I said and cleared my throat before adding, "Do you want me to continue?"

His eyelids lifted and I stared into eyes the color of muddy pond water. The same eyes stared at me in the mirror every morning, except his were lackluster.

"No, pumpkin. I think Captain Ahab will have to wait until tomorrow. Get Femi, okay."

"Okay." I reached for his hand, but he jerked away, cringing from my touch. His eyes sharpened in reprimand and for one brief moment, I saw the father I'd known before the cancer ate up his brain. "Dad?" I protested.

"No more, Raine. You cannot keep trying to see my future when there's nothing to see. Accept it."

"I have." I meant to say it matter-of-factly, but my voice came out shaky.

A film of tears brightened his eyes, but his gaze didn't waver from mine. "I love you, sweetheart, but you cannot touch me anymore. The anguish in your eyes every time you do it is too much. You must stop."

My hand fisted and fell to my side. I tried to tell myself he was right, but it still hurt. He was my father, the man who'd pushed me on swings, wiped my tears when I fell, and read me books about Norse pantheon when I was young and nave and didn't know they were real. Now I couldn't touch or hug him because I was a Seeress. He closed his eyes, long lashes forming a canopy over gaunt, pale cheeks.

"Go," he urged.

An ache spread across my chest. I stood, stepped away from his bed, and placed the book on the table, my hand shaking slightly. Tears weren't far, but I fought them. I hated crying. He wasn't dead yet. I hated that I was a Seeress, yet I couldn't see his future. Hated that I knew magical runes, yet I couldn't heal him.

What good was magic and abilities when you couldn't help those you loved? The pain my father was enduring was too much. It wasn't natural. Somehow, I knew the Norns were behind it.

"Do you want the TV on?" I asked.

"Not right now. Just get Femi."

I left the room. Femi was in the kitchen looking up something online. Femi Ross wasn't your regular nurse. She was an inked, smart-mouthed Immortal who'd fought more battles than the amulets and charm bracelets weighing down her arms. Looking at her spiked black hair and smooth brown complexion, you wouldn't guess she was Ancient Egyptian. Half the tats on her arms were hieroglyphs, including the ankh, the symbol of life.

She looked up and smiled. She had the same startling blue eyes as the boy I was madly and unequivocally in love with, except Torin's were brighter and sexier and had the ability to make me go soft and gooey inside. Hers didn't look bad on her either, just unusual for a brown-skinned person. I had no idea where Mom found her, but Valkyries and Immortals seemed to be everywhere these days.

This was the world I lived in now. The world of soul reapers and those they served and those who helped them: Valkyries, Grimnirs, Immortals, Seers, Norse gods and goddesses. Even my best friend Cora was part of my world, although I doubted she had a title. Soul Whisperer perhaps? She helped souls find closure. I was the Seeress who couldn't see anything. An epic failure as far as I was concerned.

"Are you two done reading?" Femi asked in a voice made raspy from screaming at concerts. She'd attended many, from rock-n-roll to rap. Personally, I think she used to be a smoker before smoking became uncool.

"For now. He wants to see you," I said.

She hopped off the chair and hurried toward me. Something about her often reminded me of Pink, the singer. She had the same rough around the edges look and personality. She touched my arm. "You okay, doll?"

"Yeah."

"If you want to talk, I'll be back once I etch some pain runes on your father."

I shook my head and pushed hair away from my face. "No, I'm good."

"Super. I'll order something for dinner, so go visit the others." By the others she meant Torin.

She disappeared inside the den, my father's new bedroom. Mom had refurbished the room for him when he became too ill to climb the stairs. She'd be in there with him right now if she hadn't gone to Asgard for her hearing. She'd decided to rejoin the Valkyries after giving up soul reaping for love. For Dad.

Exhaling, I entered the bathroom by the den and closed the door. Lavania, my tutor, had said I could get premonitions by touching items and people. A soft brush with strings of Dad's brown hair, which I'd also inherited from him, begged me to pick it up.

I hesitated, unsure whether I should. Scared of what I'd see. Or not see. Blowing out air, I placed an unsteady hand on the thistles and closed my eyes.

Nothing. No sounds. No images. Just inky darkness.

Frustrated, I left the bathroom. Femi was a coffee addict, so there was always some brewing in the coffeemaker. I poured myself a cup, added creamer, and glanced at Torin's house.

The house next door would always be Torin's even though my childhood friend, Eirik, was the first to live there. The other Valkyries and Immortals had moved to the mansion up the hill, but Torin liked being close to me. It didn't matter that most places were only a portal away. He liked to glance out his kitchen or bedroom window and see me. Cute. I liked catching him watching me.

I caught movement from the corner of my eye and frowned when I saw a tawny-haired guy at the mailbox. What was Blaine doing picking up mail at Torin's?

Blaine Chapman came from a long line of Immortals. He and his family had left town until Torin asked for his help. Immortals were the backup team for Valkyries. They were earth-bound and provided Valkyries with anything they needed, including pretend parents.

I carried my mug to the portal mirror in the living room and debated whether to use it. No, I only did that when Torin was home. It still amazed me how much my life had changed in the last seven months.

Last fall, I'd been your average high schooler with a crush on my childhood friend. Nothing exciting was happening in my life, just a looming seventeenth birthday and swim practice. Then a leather-wearing, dark-haired British guy knocked on my door and my life had never been the same.

Sipping my drink, I let myself out of the house. Spring was in the air, but the weather was typical Willamette Valley, Oregon; sunny one minute and the next rainy. It had rained a little in the morning, but the sun was back up again. A non-Oregonian would consider the day cold. To someone like me, born and raised here, it was perfect. I adjusted the hem of my fitted T-shirt.

Mrs. Rutledge, my nosy neighbor across from our cul-de-sac waved when she saw me. She now found me tolerable. I was the poor girl whose father was terminally ill. Someone to be pitied. Before Dad's illness, she couldn't look at me without judging me. She hated young people. Or resented them.

I crossed the yard just as Blaine disappeared inside the house and closed the door. I should have used a portal. It was faster and private. I glanced over my shoulder and caught Mrs. Rutledge peering at me from behind her curtain.

Get a hobby already, lady.

It felt strange knocking on Torin's door. Usually the portal from my house led straight to the one in his bedroom or living room.

The door was yanked open from inside and Blaine scowled down at me. I was five-seven, taller than average for a girl, but he loomed over me. Most Immortals and Valkyries were tall. I tilted my head back and smiled.

"Oh you," he said as if I was the last person he wanted to see.

I didn't let his attitude get to me. He was in mourning and my heart ached for him. Three months ago, his girlfriend, Casey Riverside, died during a football game and he was pissed off at the world.

"Hey, Blaine."

He frowned, glanced over at my house then back at me and cocked his brow.

"We haven't really talked since you came back. Do you want to come over?" I dangled my cup of latte and grinned. "I have coffee."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his topaz eyes. Girls used to swoon whenever he turned those eyes and his mega-watt smile in their direction. Me included. Now he was sullen and broken.

He shook his head, his wavy locks of hair flopping over his eyes. "I have to do some stuff at the mansion."

He sounded impatient to leave. "Oh. Okay. I thought I'd ask. See you." I turned to leave.

"How's your dad?" he asked.

I turned and gave him a tiny smile. "Still hanging in there."

"You know this is their fault," he said, voice low and accusatory, his eyes suddenly burning with rage.

I didn't understand. "Whose fault?"

"The Valkyries. They have the power to save lives, but they pick and choose who they save."

"No, Blaine. The Norns are the only ones with the power to change destinies, not Valkyries. Valkyries get in trouble if they use their artavus on Mortals."

He shook his head as though he didn't like what I was saying and stepped back from the door. I noticed the blade in his hand. Seven months ago, if a guy his size had stared me down with such rage while stroking a blade that sharp, I'd have taken off screaming. But I recognized the dagger for what it was-an artavus. We used artavo to draw runes on our bodies and on surfaces to create portals. The kind he carried, a stillo, was for portals. Besides, as an Immortal, a cut might hurt for a second but it self-healed right away.

Blaine's anger was totally misdirected. He needed to talk to someone. "You sure you don't want to come over and talk?"

Topaz eyes met mine, then he looked away, but not before I saw the despair in their depth. "I'm heading back to the mansion then hitting the gym."

They had a fully-equipped gym at the mansion and an Olympic size pool. So unfair. "I could join you if you like."

A sad smile touched the corner of his lips. "Nah. I'm good. See you around, Raine. I hope your father... I hope you find him some help."

I didn't know how to respond to that. Dad's cancer had metastasized. Nothing could save him. Not human medicine and not all the runic magic in the world. Only death could set him free and he was being denied that too. I hated Norns.

"See you at school tomorrow." I turned and headed toward my house.

TV sounds came from behind the den's door and I wished I was in there with Dad watching a game. I didn't even like football, but I now watched Sunday football religiously. How was that going to work now that I couldn't touch him? We'd probably sit far away from each other with separate bowls of popcorn.

My eyes smarted. I missed Mom. She would make all this bearable.

I glanced at my watch. It was barely after five and Torin wasn't due home for several hours. My best friend Cora hadn't called the whole day. She was probably out with her boyfriend.

I sent her a text, then grabbed a bag of lettuce from the fridge. I was in the middle of making myself a mean salad when warmth crept up my spine and my heart tripped.

Torin. His eyes on me always had the same effect.

"You're back early," I called out and glanced over my shoulder.

Torin walked away from the mirror portal in the living room. Leather jacket, jeans hugging narrow hips, and windblown hair wrapped in pure deliciousness couldn't begin to describe him. He sauntered to where I stood by, his sexy smile melting my insides.

"I had a feeling you needed me," he said, the British lilt stroking my senses. He came to stand behind me and ran his knuckles up and down my arms, his movement slow and sensual. I shivered and leaned against him, welcoming his heat. "Your arms are freezing."

"I went outside to talk to Blaine."

"Blaine visited you?" He criss-crossed his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, curving his body into mine. I closed my eyes and inhaled. He smelled amazing. But when he rubbed his cheek against the side of my head, I tilted my head, so our faces could touch. His skin was hot.

"Freckles?"

"Hmm..."

"You're purring."

I was. "No, I'm not."

"Am I distracting you again?" he whispered.

He always did. "No. Did you ask me something?"

He chuckled. "What was Blaine doing here?"

"Collecting the mail from your mailbox. I invited him over, but he wasn't interested." I zipped up the plastic salad bag and put it aside. "He's a hot mess."

"He needs to get his act together." His breath teased my nape and I shivered.

I turned in his arms and faced him, the bowl in my hand acting as a barrier. "He needs to talk to someone, Torin."

"Not you." He lifted the bowl out of the way and returned it to the counter. "You have enough on your plate."

"Then you do it."

He scoffed at the idea. "I'm not Dr. Phil."

I cocked my brow. "Do you even know who Dr. Phil is?"

"Nope, but he's the go-to guy when you don't want to face your demons."

"Says who?"

"Andris." Torin ran his knuckles along my cheek as though memorizing its texture. "Blaine can sweat away his problems in the gym like everybody else."

"That's not nice." I leaned back and punched him playfully in the stomach. He smirked. That iron board stomach of his was all muscle. "He really needs help."

"I'll talk to him." He shrugged off his jacket and held it for me. I shoved my arms in the sleeves. "It is still too cold for you to be walking around without a coat. I don't know how you ever survived before me."

I rolled my eyes. "Yet here I am."

"You got by."