Warrior Nights

by Sheryl Nantus

  “Right.” Liam checked his watch as he put the phone down. “I’ve got first dibs on the shower.” Without waiting for her answer, he pulled the pistol out of the small of his back and placed it on the counter before going down the hall, shucking his T-shirt on the way.

  She settled on the couch and stretched out her arms and legs, eager for her chance to clean the last of the flour and icing sugar from her skin. It’d settled on her like a soft cloud, the bakery staying with her.

  The children’s book lay on the coffee table, but that didn’t draw her attention as much as it had before.

  The pistol…

  She went to the kitchen and picked it up, careful to keep her finger clear of the trigger. The Ridge was a small town, a safe town. She hadn’t seen anyone else brandishing a weapon, hadn’t seen any at all, other than Marie’s sidearm.

  Why was he walking around armed?

  She headed down the hall, still holding the pistol.

  Liam groaned as he dipped his hands in the hot water and drew it up to his face, scrubbing the last of the dirt from his cheeks and chin.

  It’d been one hell of a strange day.

  One hell of an exhausting day.

  He was mentally and physically wiped out, the combination of Kara’s arrival and his daily routine in the Ridge wearing him down. He hated lying to Marie, to Geraldine, to the Monnettis—ironic, because lying had been a valuable part of his life in the past.

  The lack of decent sleep didn’t help any.

  He brushed away a loose strand of hair falling into his eyes, thinking again about getting a haircut.

  He’d never been a big fan of long hair, needing much more maintenance than the buzzcut worn during his time in the military. But it was an easy disguise, and adding in the beard…

  The door began to open.

  Liam instinctively reached for the combat knife sitting on the small shelf, old reflexes kicking in. The last day vanished from memory, replaced by cold, hard emotions developed over a half decade of fighting for survival.

  He pulled the knife free of the holder, fingers curling around the black handle. He grabbed at the doorknob, wrenching it open with a yell.

  He lunged forward at the same time as the present-day reality crashed back over him. It took all he had to hold in place, his heart racing as he came back to the here and now.

  Kara stared at him, the pistol down at her side. One eyebrow rose as she studied the blade, only inches from her eye. She didn’t blink, didn’t react to the attack.

  “A little tense, are we?” She slowly raised the pistol, holding it by the grip. “I was going to ask you why you were packing all day, but I see you’re used to being armed. Everywhere.”

  Liam drew a deep breath, blinking as he came out of the fighting haze.

  “I didn’t…” he started, searching for some way to make this sound normal. “I forgot you were here.”

  “Obviously.” She stood her ground. “Were you expecting someone else?”

  He reached out and grabbed the pistol with his free hand, a wave of exhaustion spiking his temper. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  Her gaze flashed to the combat knife in his hand. “We sure will. Because I’m not trusting my safety to a man who’s wired to snap at a second’s notice. And who won’t tell me why he’s armed like we’re in a war zone.” She closed the door in his face.

  He heard the angry footsteps down the hall to the bedroom, the door slamming shut.

  “Fuck.” Liam pulled his shirt on and left, keeping the pistol and knife on him. The cool air was a welcome slap to his system as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. A good walk would tamp down the rage boiling inside him—not so much at Kara, but how he’d reacted.

  It was as if he’d just arrived in the Ridge, fresh from Vegas. And before that…

  He hesitated by the truck, the idea surging to the front of his mind again.

  Cut and run. Get in the truck and drive, drive until he didn’t recognize anything or anyone and start over again.

  But that wouldn’t fix anything. He couldn’t abandon the Ridge, Kara, and everything she represented until he knew what the hell was going on.

  “Damn it, Liam. Get your shit together,” he mumbled, turning away from the truck. A good walk around the block would take time, enough for him to cool down and think with his head—not his heart.

  Or any other part of his body.

  What he had with Kara was in the past. Dragging that into the present could only be trouble, for both of them.

  And possibly lethal.

  Part of him hoped she’d still be there when he got back.

  Part of him hoped she’d be gone.

  He wasn’t sure which part he wanted more.

  Kara ground her teeth as she heard the front door close. She understood the idea of being armed, being safe—but a knife in the bathroom was a bit much.

  Unless there was something about Liam she didn’t know.

  She went out into the living room, moving to the window to see him standing by the truck, hands stuffed into his pockets. For a second Kara thought he might drive off and not come back.

  She let her breath out slowly as he stomped off, splashing water up as he stepped into a puddle. A few more seconds and he was out of sight.

  He’ll be back, she told herself. He’s a warrior. He doesn’t run from battle.

  An internal war erupted in her mind, the two points of view fighting for dominance.

  How would you know that? You don’t know who you are.

  She paused, taking the question at the top of her mind and twisting it around, away from herself.

  You don’t know who he is.

  Kara knew this much—she’d trusted her body to him for a week. That earned him a chance to explain himself, to tell her what he feared. What he was waiting for.

  She caught herself, corrected herself.

  Who he was waiting for.

  She stood in the middle of the living room, pulling her fingers up into fists.

  If he was ready to fight, then maybe she should be.

  You can fight.

  The thought came out of nowhere, dominating her thoughts.

  Her right foot slid back, the muscle memory settling her into a fighting stance.

  I know this.

  Kara closed her eyes and brought her hands up, letting instinct take over. Clearing her mind, she let it happen, the gestures coming one after the other as she struck out at imaginary enemies.

  She watched herself from inside her mind and wondered at the fluidity of the actions, the flowing from one form to the other.

  The fighting moves were unlike any system she could recall, the automatic strikes and dodges releasing some of the tension in her body. The revelation shocked her even as it soothed her, a partial answer to the question nagging her since she woke up in Liam’s bathtub.

  Who am I?

  This.

  A warrior.

  The memory exploded across her mind’s eye, a supernova going off.

  “Don’t miss a day. Even if you’ve done the routine a thousand times before, do it a thousand times more.” The older woman pointed her lance at Kara. She wore a breastplate, the sun shining off the polished metal. “No matter how good you think you are, there’s always someone better. Stronger. Faster.” A shadow fell over her face. “Ragnarök is coming. You need to be ready.”

  Kara froze in place, the single word digging into her thoughts.

  Rag…

  The sound of the apartment door opening brought her out of the flashback.

  Liam paused, studying her attack pose. His gaze narrowed. “You getting ready to fight?”

  She dropped her arms to her side, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I remembered something.” She looked at her hands, pulling them into fists. “I know this.”

  He shrugged off his jacket and hung it up. “Can’t say I recognize that stance. Did it help jar any memories?”

  “No. Just this training routine.�
�� There was no point in telling him the little she’d recalled—a woman telling her to train for Ragnarök—not with Liam’s reaction to the Norse storybook.

  “Good to know you can protect yourself if you need to.” He rubbed his palms on his jeans. “I wasn’t sure you’d still be here when I got back.”

  “I’ve got no place else to go.” She forced a smile. “Not interested in taking up one of Marie’s cells.”

  “I’m not going to keep you here if you don’t want to stay,” he said, the words tumbling out. “If you feel…”

  She waved him down. “I don’t want to go anywhere. Not at least until we figure this out.”

  “Okay. That’s good.” He exhaled slowly. “I owe you an apology about the way I acted earlier. And an explanation.”

  “Yes, you do. I saw the pistol earlier, at the police station, didn’t think much of it. The knife in the bathroom, however…”

  “Yeah. That.” Liam went to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of beer. “Let’s sit. This is a little…complicated.”

  He popped the caps from the bottles and gestured for her to join him on the couch.

  She eyed him for a second before complying, leaving the beer untouched for the time being.

  He withdrew the pistol from the small of his back and placed the weapon on the coffee table. The knife was next, snugly sitting inside the holster.

  Liam drank, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before speaking. “When we first met, a year ago, we agreed not to talk about our pasts. You weren’t interested in that, and I was…” He shook his head. “I was on the move away from one life to another. Worked out well for both of us.”

  “But now,” she prompted.

  “Now it’s a bit more serious. You don’t remember how you found me here and that’s an issue.” He looked at the children’s book. “What appeals to you about that book?”

  “There’s something about it…this might sound silly, but I feel a sort of kinship with them.” Her fingers brushed over the bright image on the cover. “The Valkyries. But that doesn’t make any sense, does it? They aren’t real.”

  “Yes.” His tone was flat and quiet. “Valkyries exist. I know because I saw one.” He paused, waiting to see her reaction.

  She nodded, urging him on.

  Liam rubbed his chin. “It was in a small country, one you probably wouldn’t find on a map because the borders change with every week. Civil war’s a daily thing, one warlord rises to power and gets taken out the next month by his competition. I was walking on the road, heard some trucks coming and ducked into the bush.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t want to be seen until I chose to be. Military trucks rolled by me and took a turnoff, toward a village farther down the road, according to my map. I followed them, curious about all that firepower heading to a civilian settlement.”

  Liam put the beer down and entwined his fingers. “It took some time to make my way close enough to see and hear what was going on. It was a confrontation between the two groups in the town square, in front of the church. I didn’t understand what they were saying at first, there was a lot of yelling and screaming, almost all on the part of the military.” His knuckles went white as he continued.

  “They demanded food, water, basic supplies from the villagers. The leader of the town shook his head, waved his hands around to point at various buildings. I got the impression there wasn’t a lot of extra food and what they had wasn’t going to these thugs, no matter how loud they yelled. The military leader got upset, pointed at the church. Shouted something about harboring rebels, hiding weapons—the villagers were enemies of the current government, supporting revolution.”

  He shook his head. “That was total bullshit. I’ve seen rebellions and all these people wanted was to be left alone to survive as best they could. They weren’t hiding anything, they weren’t armed.”

  “What happened next?” she asked in a soft, low voice.

  “It got hotter and hotter, them pointing their rifles on the villagers, threatening them. The men didn’t fight back, they raised their hands, pleading for the soldiers to just leave.”

  He drew a shallow breath. “The soldiers opened fire on the civilians without warning. Mowed them down without mercy—a few villagers managed to break away and attack one or two of the soldiers, but it was a massacre. After the soldiers finished firing, they went to the church doors and flung them open. Women and children poured out—hidden away, afraid of what the soldiers would do to them.” The words clogged his throat. “The men were on edge, smelling blood. They shot the women and children as well, bullets flying everywhere. When they finished, they shot the livestock, horses and dogs. Everything, everyone.”

  “What did you do?” she asked.

  “Nothing.” He looked directly at her. “It didn’t involve me. I had my own job to do—support the current government by killing the rebel leader. Down the road lay the enemy headquarters. Plan was I’d set up a sniper’s nest and wait for the leader to come out. When the time was right, I’d take my shot. Then walk away, mission accomplished.”

  He spoke rapidly, not waiting for her response. “It’s what I do, what I did—I was a paid assassin. I killed for money.” He stumbled over the tenses. “I killed for whoever contracted my services. During that time, I made a lot of enemies.”

  “That would explain the knife in the bathroom. And the gun.” She paused, remembering his odd behavior in those first, frantic hours after her arrival. “Were you worried I’d come to kill you?”

  “I considered it,” he confessed. “When you showed up at the door, I thought you might be bait, tossed at me to see how I’d react. Maybe you were a killer, waiting to attack me, take me out while I was off-kilter. But it didn’t make any sense, not when you didn’t recognize me.

  “One of the first rules I was taught.” He nodded at the pistol lying on the table. “Never be without a weapon nearby—particularly when you’re at your most vulnerable. A gun in the bathroom is more trouble than it’s worth when it comes to keeping it hidden, so I use a knife. More effective in a small space.”

  She nodded, keeping him locked in her sights.

  “What happened just now… That wasn’t you, it was me. I was tired and forgot for a second you were here—I went on instinct alone.”

  “That’s okay,” she said.

  “No. No, it’s not.” He cleared his throat. “I have to finish telling you this. That village… It was a tipping point for me. I’ve seen some bad shit in my life, but that was over the top. They were monsters, murdering innocent civilians. Then it was over. The soldiers drove off in their trucks, leaving their dead behind along with the innocents. They didn’t even care about their own people.”

  “I was ready to turn away and get out of there, keep going until I reached the fortress. Do my job and leave the country, get away from the death and destruction until I got another offer. But then I heard this music…” He shook his head. “I don’t know what happened. It was like someone pushed a pause button on reality, everyone holding in place. The jeeps froze on the road where they’d passed me, dust hanging in the air.” Liam looked toward the ceiling. “It was like classical music but with a military twist. The beat, the march… Then, I spied her.”

  “Her?”

  “A Valkyrie.” He exhaled the word like a prayer.

  Chapter Six

  As soon as the words left his mouth she paused, a sudden sense of déjà vu swamping her senses.

  “Valhalla.”

  She was flying again, soaring over tall stone walls, Great Halls holding thousands of warriors, men and women feasting all night and fighting all day…

  She blinked, and the world around her came into sharp focus, the shift in reality landing her back on the couch with an almost audible thud.

  Liam was beside her, his hand atop hers. His lips were pressed into a tight line as he studied her face.

  “You faded out for a few seconds. I thought you were having a petite
mal seizure.” He squeezed her fingers. “You said a word.”

  “Valhalla.” The syllables rolled off her tongue with a familiarity she couldn’t place.

  “The legendary place where all good little warriors go off to waiting for the End of Days,” he added.

  “Yeah.” Kara scrubbed her eyes, trying to force a way through the clouds muddling her thoughts. “Ragnarök. Read about it in the book. Must have come to the forefront when you spoke about Valkyries. Maybe you told me about this before, and that’s why I triggered to the book. That week we spent together…”

  “I’ve never told this to anyone.” He shook his head. “I’ve never dared to.”

  “Tell me more about the Valkyrie,” she prompted him. “The one you saw.”

  He paused before continuing, the pain on his face jabbing her like a thousand knives. “I saw her, hovering over the dead men and women. The children.” He swallowed hard. “She went to one of the villagers, touching his forehead with the tip of her lance as she said something—I couldn’t hear what. His spirit rose into the sky, moved toward the sun.”

  He let out a slow, staggered breath. “Then she went to another, and another, sending each skyward. Finally, she flew up, drawing in the air with her weapon…and then she vanished. They were good men and women who died fighting for their families, so I assumed it was to the Good Place. After that, another Valkyrie arrived for the little ones.” The last word came out with a deep sigh. “The babies…”

  Kara squeezed his hand, seeing the pain on his face.

  “But that wasn’t the end of it. I said some of the soldiers had died in the brawl, lucky kills from the civilians. The first Valkyrie didn’t take him for some reason, leaving him behind. I wondered why, but after the rest had gone, a Valkyrie arrived. But she…” The sentence faded, choked out. “This angel, though, she wasn’t like the other two. She went to him and drew him up, out of his body like the others. But she was angry, sad—I saw it in the way she acted, the way she shook her head. I knew then and there she wasn’t taking him to Valhalla.” Liam looked at Kara. “He was going to Hell. Because he was a ruthless killer, doing what his commander said without hesitation. I knew right then the next Valkyrie I saw was going to be dragging my soul down to Hell. For what I’d done with my life, my skills, up until that moment—there was no chance I’d go anywhere else.”