Geoffrey fixed his gaze on me, and I felt the tug of vampiric hypnosis coming into play. He wasn’t as powerful as the mistress of the house, but it still made the blood sing in my veins, and I was glad I already had my hand on the reassuring chill of dauda-dagr’s hilt. “After Lady Eris’s display with you upstairs, I confess, I’m not terribly impressed with your authority, Hel’s liaison.” He curled his lip, baring his fangs in a manner that was both a threat and a promise. “You heard her. She changed her mind. Now either go away, or stay and play.”

Oh, crap. That was what I got for being diplomatic: a supercilious pretty-boy vampire calling my bluff.

Jen gave me an uncertain look. “Daise?”

“I’m thinking.” If I drew dauda-dagr and backed him down, Bethany might change her mind. Or she might not, in which case everyone lost face. Damn! This was way too complicated.

While I was still in the throes of indecision, there was a knock at the front door—not just any knock, but a slow, ponderous knock heavy enough to make the old windowpanes tremble in their lead molding.

Looking annoyed and vaguely alarmed, the blond vampire opened the door.

Mikill the frost giant stood on the doorstep, his icicle-laden beard dripping, wisps of frost rising from his bluish skin. Ducking his head, he entered the House of Shadows without waiting for an invitation, his slush-colored gaze seeking mine.

“Daisy Johanssen,” he said in his booming voice. “I am bidden to summon you to an audience with Hel.”

I suppressed a grin, silently blessing him for his excellent timing. “Of course, Mikill. Just as soon as we’ve finished our business here.”

Looming over mortals and vampires alike, Mikill swung his massive head around to take in the scene. His hair and beard continued to drip onto the marble floor of the foyer, a puddle forming beneath him. “What is at issue?”

“No issue,” I assured him. “Geoffrey here was just saying good-bye to his blood-bonded girlfriend for a few days.” I smiled sweetly at him. “Isn’t that right?”

He gave me a poisonous glare, but he wasn’t stupid enough to challenge my authority in the presence of an actual inhabitant of Little Niflheim, especially not one who stood eight feet tall. “Be good,” he said to Bethany, trailing one finger down her throat. “And come back soon. I’ll miss you, poppet.”

“I hope you do.” She sniffed. “I hope you miss me a lot. Maybe it will make you remember your promise.”

Mikill’s gaze returned to me. “Is your business now concluded, Daisy Johanssen?”

“Yep.”

He inclined his head. “That is well.”

I thought so, too.