Bjorn Cursed

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Bjorn Cursed Page 7

by N. J. Walters

She frowned. “I’m not sure I understand. Like Lucifer, the one they’ve gone to see?”

  “He’s nothing like Lucifer,” Morrigan quickly corrected. “I’m not getting into it. That’s Maccus’s business. But he’s an angel who fell into Hell and fought so long and hard that Lucifer booted him out.”

  “Why would he do that?” Before she could speak, Anja answered her own question. “Fear.”

  “Yes. Maccus ended up here on Earth and the rest is history. Things changed almost a year ago. He got his wings back, along with some extra powers. He’s now the only one who can go to both Heaven and Hell.”

  That made him powerful, indeed. With him as an ally and guide, Bjorn should be safe. But these things were never a given. She emptied the last of her hot chocolate. It was lukewarm but still wonderful. When she was done, she clung to the mug to absorb the last of the heat. It might be summer outside, but it was cooler in here, and she was chilled in both body and spirit.

  “Do you think they’re safe?” She set her mug down on the table.

  Morrigan didn’t answer. Her eyes were wide, her pupils swallowing the green. She peered at the wall, as though what she was looking at was far beyond.

  Jo set her own mug down. “Morrigan?” When she still didn’t answer, she cried out for her man, “Asher.”

  The vampire was there a second later. A slight breeze brushing Anja’s skin was the only indication of his passing, a sharp reminder he wasn’t human.

  Jo picked up her friend’s hand and patted it. “Sweetie, talk to me.”

  Morrigan inhaled sharply. “The sun rises, cloaking your world in darkness. The wolf howls. The sun burns with rage.” Her voice was deeper than usual. Flat, too. Missing all inflection.

  That wasn’t at all creepy. Anja resisted making a sign of protection in the air in front of her. That would be too much of an insult.

  She traced the runes on her palms.

  Morrigan turned toward her. At first, she feared the other woman had seen her marking protective symbols onto her skin, but her eyes were still locked far beyond this world.

  “You are the key. If you fail, all will fall into darkness.”

  “If I fail? At what?” Goose bumps ran up and down her arms.

  Morrigan blinked several times, her green eyes returning to normal. “Hey, what happened?” When she found them all staring at her, she muttered, “Crap, I did it again, didn’t I.”

  Asher crouched beside the woman’s chair and placed a hand on her arm. “Do you need me to get Maccus? I’ll figure out how to get to Hell if I need to.”

  Anja’s heart ached. These people were true friends, the kind who had your back in a crisis. After arriving at Freya’s Hall and losing her children, she’d been inconsolable, not wanting to make anymore connections that could be severed, driving everyone away until they’d left her in peace.

  She’d been safe, but lonely, always living on the outskirts of the community. Being bound to Freya’s service had added to it. Many of them treated her as if she were somehow less because of that. Still more took little or no notice of her. Eventually, she’d faded into their daily routine, a part of it, but outside of it.

  Morrigan patted his face. “Thanks, Asher, but I’m fine. I could use some water.”

  “I got it.” Jo jumped up from the table, got a bottle out of the icebox, and brought it to her.

  “Thanks.” She opened it and took a swig. “Um, I’m an oracle. I occasionally say things that will impact mankind or Heaven or Hell or someone’s life. No biggie.”

  Chill bumps ran up and down Anja’s arms. No biggie? This woman was an oracle. In Norse culture, she’d be revered, worshiped as a messenger of the gods. And here she was chatting and having hot chocolate with the woman.

  “What did I say?”

  “You don’t remember?” She wished she could swallow back her question, but it was too late. When she realized she was tracing runes on her legs, she twined her fingers together in her lap.

  Morrigan shrugged. “Sometimes. Mostly not. First time it’s happened when Maccus wasn’t around. Oh crap, I didn’t say anything about them, did I?”

  “No, but it was directed at me.” What was it she’d said? Anja searched her memory to get the words exact. “You said, ‘The sun rises, cloaking your world in darkness. The wolf howls. The sun burns with rage.’ Then you said I was the key and all would fall into darkness if I fail. Any idea what it means?” Because she had none.

  “I’m not sure.” Her green eyes darted to the side.

  A coldness flooded Anja. Morrigan was lying. Her words said one thing, but the way she avoided looking at Anja was a dead giveaway. The sweet chocolate soured in her stomach. Her tentative sense of friendship vanished.

  People let you down when you need them.

  The vehemence behind the thought gave her pause. It went far deeper than this encounter. Did she blame Bjorn for not being there when she needed him? Or was she angry with herself for letting down her family?

  Maybe she was being too hard on her new friends. They shared a history she did not.

  “Anja, I’m sorry. All I can tell you is if I said it, it’s important. Share it with Bjorn. He may be able to shed some light on it.”

  She gave a jerky nod. “I will.” It would be foolhardy to ignore a warning from a woman touched by the Divine. The air stirred, becoming charged like it did before an oncoming storm. Her heart jumped. Was it Bjorn?

  “Get behind me. Now!” Asher pushed his woman behind him before pulling Morrigan out of her chair. “Anja, come here.”

  Before she could move, he grabbed her hand and yanked. She stumbled forward and found herself staring at Asher’s back. He stood before them, a human, or rather inhuman, shield.

  “Whatever happens, I got it. If it’s not Maccus and Bjorn, run for the elevator and get out.”

  Running went against the warrior side of her, but it was a smart person who fought when the odds were in their favor and retreated and regrouped when they weren’t.

  A flash of light exploded, blinding her. Asher swore. The other women cried out. By the time she could see again, Bjorn was striding toward her. He caught her in his arms and buried his face against her hair. “I’ve got you.”

  A stench of something dark and evil clung to his clothing and skin. Icy fear gripped her, but she shoved it aside. “You came back.” She ran her hands over his broad shoulders and down his arms, checking for injuries.

  “I came back.” The roughness of his voice skated over her skin like a caress. His arms were so tight she could barely breathe, but she didn’t care. She’d pretended to be okay when he was gone, as she’d done so many times in her life. But her world had only ever felt right when he was beside her, sharing every joy, every sorrow, every trouble.

  “How’d it go?” Morrigan asked.

  Bjorn released her but kept her tucked up against him. “Lucifer’s not behind it. I heard the truth in his words.” Frustration was thick in her husband’s voice.

  “Then it was all for naught.”

  Maccus stood behind Morrigan with both arms linked around her torso, a deadly sentinel. “Lucifer said he personally hadn’t done anything. He wasn’t lying.”

  “I see where you’re going with this,” Morrigan said.

  “I don’t, so spit it out. I know he wasn’t lying. I would have sensed it.”

  She rubbed her hand against Bjorn’s stomach to try to calm him.

  “Lucifer is the master of words. You have to listen not only to what he says but also to what he doesn’t. He personally did nothing. That doesn’t mean he didn’t convince someone else to do it for him. This won’t bounce back on him unless whoever he got to help him comes clean. And that’s not likely if it will piss off Odin and Freya. So unless he’s caught red-handed or we get compromising evidence, there’s no way to prove it.”

 
“Son of a bitch.”

  She agreed with her husband’s assessment of the situation.

  “I didn’t pick up on that, and I should have.” He dragged his fingers through his hair and huffed out a breath.

  “You’re too close to the situation.” It didn’t seem to be an accusation. More that Maccus was simply stating a fact. “How are things on the video front?”

  Asher raised his hands and wiggled his fingers. “Worked my magic and got rid of all of it. Wasn’t much. Just a couple of grainy images. But better safe than sorry. I’ll monitor it over the next day or so to make sure someone didn’t take a video and post it to YouTube or their social media sites.”

  “Thanks, bloodsucker. I appreciate it.” She frowned when Bjorn called his friend by that name.

  Asher simply smirked and lowered all but his middle fingers. “No problem.”

  Even she knew that was a rude gesture. For all the years she’d lived in the world and the afterlife, she’d never understand the friendships of men. They often fought or called each other names and thought nothing of it. It was more a sign of affection than anything.

  It was all fine and good, but they really were no further ahead than they’d been before. Okay, maybe a bit ahead, but there was still so much unknown.

  Squaring her shoulders, she faced them all. “Where does that leave us?” Where did that leave her, a woman who shouldn’t be in this world?

  …

  Anja’s voice was steady, but she trembled in his arms.

  His blood seethed with anger at Lucifer for embroiling them in his games. He cursed himself for not seeing through the devil’s deception. “We can’t stay here.” No way did he want to endanger his Brothers or their women.

  “Where will you go?” Not surprisingly, it was Morrigan who asked. The men knew ignorance was best in this situation.

  “It’s better if you don’t know.” He softened his tone. Maccus had done so much for him, the last thing he wanted to do was piss him off by upsetting his woman. “Safer.”

  “You’ll need food, transportation, and weapons. I can get you what you need.” Asher offered. His kindness was deeply appreciated, considering their recent history.

  “Thank you, but I have everything I need in my truck.” Not to mention a whole lot more stored at the cabin where he planned to take Anja.

  He might move around a lot, might prefer to hunt as a wolf, but he wasn’t stupid. Every home he owned was fitted out with a hidden steel and titanium cellar stockpiled with extra clothes, non-perishable items, and every conceivable weapon from swords to rocket propelled grenades. The RPGs were particularly fun. He’d used them only once and that had been on a trip down to Central America a few years back.

  “Your truck is likely being watched or monitored,” the vampire said.

  “I can scout and make sure we’re clear before we take it. I doubt Odin even knows I have a vehicle. The gods pay little attention to such details. He left me on my own centuries ago and ignored me until he wanted something.”

  “Call if you need us. We’ll come.” Maccus’s words should have surprised him, yet they didn’t. The bond of the Brotherhood had been forged over centuries and wouldn’t easily be broken. They had few rules. As long as he lived by them, his Brothers would back him to the end of the world and beyond.

  Maccus had already proven that with his actions today.

  “Anja needs a phone. Wait here.” Morrigan hurried away, returning moments later, holding out the device. “Take it. Get Bjorn to teach you how to use it. Maccus’s number is in there. So is Asher’s. No names. Just press one or two.”

  Anja took it and held it in her hand, since she had no pockets. He should have thought of it himself. Not that there’d been time for such things.

  “Appreciate it. I’ll make sure she knows how to use it.”

  “I bet I’m number two.” Asher gave a dramatic sigh. “Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.”

  “You’re number one with me,” Jo teased.

  “Seriously, though. If anything happens and you get separated or anything, please call,” Morrigan entreated Anja.

  If they were separated, it would be because he was dead. He wouldn’t willingly leave her.

  “Thank you. I will.” Her fingers tightened around the phone.

  “Be careful. Be safe.” From Maccus it was more a command than request.

  “Always, Brother.” Bjorn lifted his hand in farewell.

  “If it comes down to it, I may be able to get us some outside help.”

  He lowered his hand. “Who is more powerful than the gods?”

  Maccus said nothing more. The bastard was tight-lipped, as always. Knowing he’d get no more, he tucked his arm around his wife’s waist and guided her toward the elevator. “Let’s go.”

  She jerked back when the chime sounded and the door opened. He’d forgotten she’d missed her first ride. “It’s an elevator and will take us back down to the ground floor.”

  Giving him a nod, she boldly stepped forward into the unknown.

  They got a final glimpse of the others before the door shut and they began their descent. Bending down, he whispered in her ear, “I will not let anyone harm you. Not this time.”

  It was a promise he prayed he could keep.

  Chapter Eight

  Anja was quiet, almost withdrawn.

  What is she thinking?

  Bjorn wished he could read her thoughts. In a short time, she’d been yanked from the land of the dead and tossed into the modern world, a pawn in the games of the gods. Then there was seeing him again. It was a lot for anyone to deal with, even a woman as strong as his wife.

  He kept one hand wrapped tightly around hers as they exited the building, fearing if he released her, she might somehow slip away. It was irrational, but he couldn’t shake it. Every primal urge he possessed urged him to run back to Maccus’s apartment. She would be safe there, at least for a short while. But that would endanger his friends’ women, and that he wouldn’t do.

  He knew all too well the pain that came with losing the one you loved. It was up to him to figure out how to fix this.

  Impossible.

  The thought beat like a drum in his brain. The best-case scenario? They would be separated again—Anja back in Freya’s Hall and him here on Earth. And that was assuming Odin didn’t end him for not following orders.

  That was about as likely as the sun shining at midnight. In other words, impossible. Someone would have to pay, and he would not allow it to be his wife. She’d been hurt enough.

  The lump in his throat made it difficult to swallow. He’d missed her so much, existing rather than living. He’d filled the long hours and days and weeks and months in a desperate bid to forget the fact he’d never join her in the afterlife. Not unless Odin had a change of heart and sent him there. Otherwise, he was stuck here, a forgotten tool of the god, doing his best to atone for all he’d done in the name of vengeance.

  His love for her had stayed strong in spite of that.

  “I know the city can be overwhelming.” The world had been dull and empty until she’d reappeared. Now it was new and vibrant. There were lights and noise, vehicles and people as far as the eye could see. And as the sun rose higher, the foot and road traffic would increase.

  He wanted to share it all with her. There’d never be enough days and nights to spend together. He didn’t want to waste a single second.

  “I’ve heard many tales of such places. I just never thought I’d see one. It’s very crowded.” She waved at the road, her phone in her hand. “Do you have one of those?”

  “Those are mostly cars. I have a truck.” He found one parked just ahead and pointed it out. “It’s bigger and has more power than a car.” They were walking back to where he’d parked, but taking a different route than the one they’d traversed on their way to Maccus�
��s place. Just to be safe.

  “You want me to hold your phone for you?” Leggings and a tunic gave her nowhere to put it.

  She nibbled on her bottom lip, making his cock jerk to life. God, he wanted her. He needed days, no months, to sate the need that gnawed at him. “That defeats the purpose of it.”

  “You’re right, but you need your hands free.” He wasn’t expecting trouble, but it was best to be prepared.

  She stopped and knelt, forcing him to release her. After loosening the laces on one of her short boots, she tucked the phone down the side. The top stuck up, but with the laces secured it would be safe enough until they got to his truck.

  Smiling, she stood. “There. That will work.” She took his hand again and they resumed walking.

  His skin itched, as though a thousand bugs were swarming over him. Darkness seeped into his soul, feeding his doubts. Was it a holdover from his time in Hell or was someone watching them? He shook off the residue of dread trying to overtake him.

  How had Maccus survived in such a place? Going there once was more than enough. He couldn’t imagine spending millennia there, trapped with no way out.

  Bjorn’s wolf growled. On alert, he sniffed the air, searching for anything out of the ordinary. It was difficult to home in on a particular smell. There were so many conflicting ones to sort through.

  He scanned the streets for anything out of the ordinary as they followed the sidewalk toward their destination. His concentration was splintered between watching for enemies and worrying about Anja. He’d planned to wait until they were in his truck and heading away from the city to talk, but to hell with it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She shrugged and kept looking everywhere but at him.

  “Do they sell food and drink there?” She pointed out a Starbucks that was open and doing a brisk business.

  He came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the sidewalk. A man who’d just exited almost ran into them and barely managed to save his coffee from ending up on the ground. “Hey, man, watch where you’re going.”

  Bjorn ignored the guy, all his attention on his wife. She was glancing nervously around. “Shouldn’t we be moving?”

 

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