“I’ve been expecting you.”
The voice, so familiar and utterly unwelcome. She turned slowly and found Odin behind her. He rarely came to the mortal realm anymore. After fathering her and a few others with mortal women during his trips here, Frigg had given him an ultimatum. Either he gave up his philandering ways or she left him. He had chosen Frigg and drastically cut back on his visits to the mortal realm.
“What do you want?”
His handsome face turned ruddy with anger. “Do not forget whom you are speaking to, Valkyrie. I am Odin, your god and your sire.”
She turned her back on him and walked over to the steps leading up to the boat. “You became neither to me when you conspired to murder an innocent woman and then cast me from Valhalla when I tried to make you see the error of your way.”
Hlif was suddenly airborne and crashed into the wall of the tomb. Pain exploded through her body at the hard contact with the solidly packed earth. When she sat up, slightly dazed, Odin was towering over her. His face was contorted in a mask of pure rage. He hauled her to her feet and pushed his face into hers.
“You do not decide what I can and cannot do, mortal,” he hissed at her. “Nor do you disrespect me by turning your back on me.”
She calmly regarded Odin, completely indifferent to his anger and bruised ego. She was already hurting more than enough and the reason for that lay wrapped in linen a few feet away.
“What do you want from me? You killed the only person I’ve ever loved and you expect me to accept it just like that? No,” she shook her head. “…that is not how it is going to work. I would die first before I forgive you.”
She prayed he indulged her. It would be so much easier to be dead right now than live with the painful, sucking wound in her chest where her heart was supposed to be.
Odin tossed her from him like a dirty rag. “So be it then. If you want to remain with your beloved, then I can make that possible.” He walked over to the boat, his large powerful frame causing the wooden structure to creak under his weight. “You will stand guard over her decaying corpse forever, you ungrateful mongrel. You will watch as the sands of time turn her bones to dust right before your eyes.” He turned to her. “And every day, you will regret denouncing me, Odin, as your master and your sire.”
He gave her a long look and Hlif wasn’t sure if it was the play of the flames on his face, but she could almost swear that his eyes glistened with unshed tears.
Then he was gone.
Hlif rose from the dirt and walked over to where Gurith lay. She curled up next to her beloved and closed her eyes. That was one of the most powerful curses known to man and god alike. There was only one other known incident where that particular curse had been used before amongst the celestials. The unfortunate man had been both an enemy of Odin and a strong challenger for Frigg’s attentions. After only a few months of being locked in his marble prison, the man had begged his family to destroy his statue and set him free. That was what Hlif had to look forward to, but for now, she only cared about being close to Gurith.
A shrill noise jerked Hlif from her trip down memory lane. She looked around the room and spotted the lit screen of her phone.
“Yes.”
“She’s catching an early flight to Reykjavik the day after tomorrow.”
Hlif sat up, instantly alert. “Do you know why?”
“No. I managed to take one of her people out for drinks but that was all I could get.”
“And Loki?”
“I’m not sure if he knows yet. But if he does, he might follow her there.”
Hlif smiled coldly. “If he knows I’m here, he might not want to take the chance.” Her hatred for the man boiled to the surface. If Loki knew what’s good for him, he’d keep away.
“I’ll remain in New York, but I’m sending Anders and Bjorn on the plane with her.”
“Thank you, Markus. Goodnight.”
She lay back on the cool sheet, aware her heart was racing. She will see her again for the first time in two millennia. It had been the hardest thing for her to keep away from Bo over the years for fear of leading Loki and Odin to her. Odin. She pursed her lips. He had paid her a few visits over the years, hoping that time had mellowed her somewhat. It hadn’t. She closed her eyes. Friday couldn’t come soon enough.
***
The call was picked up after a few rings. “Whitaker.”
“Hi, honey.”
“Dad? What time is it over there?” Shawn smiled warmly. He remembered calling Aeron from all his travels and the first thing she would always ask was the time. His daughter was fascinated with time differences.
“You’re about three hours ahead of me.” That would make it eleven p.m. in Ankara. “Is she asleep?”
Aeron chuckled. “Finally, yes. She is beyond excited to see you. Aspen had her hands full tonight.”
Shawn was just as excited at seeing his granddaughter. The child was a miracle. Born to a mother who was over two thousand years old, how could she not be? At first, he had been scared that the intense, super-rich Aspen would hurt his baby girl when Aeron introduced them. The woman had seemed so out of place with the present. She was quiet and very contemplative, unless directly addressed. He had noticed that Aeron and the woman had been acting rather suspiciously the whole evening. After dinner, Aeron had said she had something to tell them. Then she dropped the bomb.
Initially, he had thought Aeron was pranking them, but when Aspen spoke and told them her history, there was no way that the kind of detail the woman supplied could be faked. That hadn’t stopped him from testing her though. He had asked her about her contemporaries, the Egyptians and the Romans. Without blinking, she had told him everything. That was the beginning of his relationship with his daughter in law and the bond kept on strengthening as time passed. She did give him a gorgeous dark-headed granddaughter, named Cleo, with bright, amber eyes whom Shawn loved to distraction. That was the closest they could get to naming the girl after her other famous grandmother, Cleopatra II.
“When’s your flight?”
“We have our own plane, dad. We fly when we’re ready,” Aeron teased him. “A benefit of being married to a very rich woman. Aspen thought we could make a detour to New York and pick up Mom and then come to you.”
That was a great idea. Only, Jennifer would not be able to get away earlier than Friday. They had a luncheon at the club to introduce the new graduates from their culinary school, Taste. It had been his wife’s idea to create a new crop of chefs instead of assessing already well-established ones. “I doubt she’ll get away before Friday.”
“Yes, there’s the graduation thing she has planned. We thought about that, but we also know that Mom can’t resist spending time with Cleo.”
“That’s evil,” Shawn said with a grin. But brilliant! He missed his wife dreadfully.
“I know. Seems the longer one lives the more devious you become…Ouch! It’s a famous proverb, darling,” he heard her say to her wife. “Aspen says hi, dad.”
“Greet her from me too, honey. It’s late over there, so I’ll let you go. See you soon.”
“Love you, Dad. See you.”
He hung up and took a sip from his cooling coffee. It was time for bed. They have an early meeting scheduled with the students before they visited the tomb again.
Hlif suggested that they keep the tomb locked when they were not working inside. Most of the objects had been removed, leaving only the boat, which Shawn doubted they would try to remove. Not when it already looked so fragile. They sent their most agile diggers on board to remove items to preserve the integrity of the boat. He’d already spoken with the Icelandic government about turning the site into a museum.
He set aside the cold coffee and reached for the large tome he’d been reading for the past three years. It was quite enlightening with every detail of Queen Gurith’s life captured in the volume. It told of her reign and her fabulous prowess as a woman not to be taken lightly on the battlefield. Some comme
morative accounts from rivals brought a nice balance to the narrative. If your enemy admired you, then you surely were a legend.
He flipped to a paragraph he’d bookmarked. It contained the list of names of people who shared common ancestry with Queen Gurith. He studied at the names. Many of the bloodlines had died out, while others had married and diluted the Haardraad lineage to the point that they couldn’t be traced back to Queen Gurith.
Shawn recognized one name.
Witteman. The family had been plagued by indescribable deaths over the last five centuries. A more recent incident was twenty years ago when the Witteman couple was found slaughtered in their home. Iceland was not known for its crime and the murders had caused quite an uproar. Shawn closed the book and began his nightly routine. As soon as he had read the name, he had made contact with the only other Witteman he knew.
Maybe she could shed some light on how her family name was linked so closely to a legendary Warrior Queen. He climbed into bed and switched off the light. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was on the brink of a much larger discovery than he had initially thought.
***
Bo listened to the music playing in her ear, but her mind was nowhere near the discussion she was to have with the Cultural Attaché of the Nepalese Embassy. Instead, she was thinking about the dream she had last night. Not much had changed about the dream though, except for the feeling of urgency she’d experienced when she woke this morning.
The dreams started when she was eighteen or so. First, it appeared to be incoherent bits and pieces. Scenes from a battle. Sailing a stormy sea. Then there were the sensual dreams. She could never make out faces and in the end, she assumed they were scenes from a movie she’d probably seen.
Then her parents’ murder happened and her grandmother sent away. The dreams disappeared for a while, but they returned. This time, with an intensity that woke her during the night. They freaked out her lovers and none of them stayed around long enough to help her make sense of the brutal battle scenes and the intense images of lovemaking. Some nights she woke trembling with need for the faceless lover who made her arch and beg in her dreams. Other nights, she was treated to tranquil scenes of life, such as relaxed market scenes with an overwhelming scent of fresh fish and foreign food smells. Those were the nights that she didn’t mind the dreams too much. They were almost…
“Ms Witteman, my apologies for the long wait.”
“No need to apologize, Mr Paudel. You are after all a busy man and I respect that.” She had read up on Nepalese culture and customs, but wasn’t sure if diving right into the reason of her call would be considered bad manners. Bo decided to ask him. “Would I be rude to discuss the matter of my call with you now?”
The man chuckled. “Not at all. I have a meeting with the minister in twenty minutes and would appreciate your candidness.”
Perfect timing. “I’ve done a bit of research and found that my client, Lisa Vaughn, is blacklisted for offering a bribe to a former official in your ministry.” The man growled his agreement. Lisa surely burnt her bridges there. “But we both know how important the exposure could be for your tourism industry. It is with that in mind that I have a proposition for you.”
There was a short silence. “As long as you do not ask us to lift the ban on Lisa Vaughn, Ms Witteman.”
“Not at all, sir. I fully respect the rule of law of the Federal Democratic Republic of Nepal. I propose to have the showing of your artwork at another gallery. One, every bit as reputable as the Vaughn galleries and owned by a family who has not affronted the Nepalese government. In fact, they are renowned for their humanitarian work amongst the youth across Asia through their Bell Foundation.” She waited for the name to sink in. “I believe you have heard of them, Mr Paudel.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of the Bell Foundation and the projects they run across the continent.” The man sounded wary. “Where does Lisa Vaughn fit in?”
Bo took a deep breath. “Ms Vaughn accepts full responsibility for her transgression. However, Nepal and its rich culture and history will always stay near and dear to her heart. She assured me that she will not stop promoting the country on the international front, as she believes that many people could benefit from such exposure.” She took a short breather. “All Ms Vaughn asks, is to be able to foot the bill for the transport of the priceless art pieces from Nepal to the States and back. That is usually a logistical nightmare and the most costly part of any showing, but she has a reliable team that does that for her.”
Bo stopped and waited for the man’s response. The line cracked faintly as the silence stretched. This was the last option she had. If they said no, then Lisa Vaughn will have to consider cutting ties with Nepal and find another country to obsess over. She’ll even have Marion compile a list of countries for Lisa’s consideration.
“I cannot promise anything, except that I will lay it before the minister and he will take it further. If you could dial my office in three days, I might be able to give you an update, at the very least.”
That was good enough for her. “Thank you for listening to my proposal, Mr Paudel, as well as for the patience and time you took to do so. I will be in contact again. Thank you again.”
“Thank you, Ms Witteman. Good day.”
Bo leaned back in her chair and removed the headset. It went much better than she had expected. She stood and went to the kitchen to brew herself a cup of coffee. Due to the time difference with Nepal, she had to be up early. She had breakfast and then booted her laptop to read the newspaper headlines. She was finishing her coffee when her phone rang. She glanced at the Caller ID.
“You’re up early, Marion.”
Marion stifled a yawn on the other side of the line. “You, too. Spoke to the Nepalese guy yet?”
“Yeah. Ram referred me to him and he wasn’t too bad. He was about to go into a meeting with the minister and said that he would lay our proposal on the table. Now tell me why you’re up at six?”
“Dobrov. The man is almost overeager to meet with you. No matter how many times I tell him that you won’t be able to meet with him this week, the more he pushes. What do you want me to do?”
Tear hadn’t come back to her yet regarding Dobrov. They were getting along quite well now and pressuring the volatile teen would not be a good idea right now.
With the Vaughn project making good headway, Bo had hoped to take the day off and pack for her trip to Iceland. Her grandmother was getting older and now lived in a life assistance facility, but Bo had already made an appointment to meet with her grandmother. Magarethe never wanted her to return to Iceland after the murder and they had kept in touch via letters and pictures. She was actually excited to see the old woman. First, she needed to make sure that she wasn’t harassed by the office while she was spending time with her only surviving relation.
“Fine. Set up a lunch date at Turin for the three of us. You should also attend.”
***
Loki peered into the mirror and straightened his tie. He turned to the woman lounging in bed.
“What do you think?”
“You look very handsome, babe. Are you sure it’s only a business meeting? You seem too eager.”
Loki grinned at the woman. If only she knew. He'd thought of dumping her many times before, but he needed her. Thanks to her, he was seen as a respectable businessman. The first thing Loki did when he arrived in the United States was to attach himself to a woman of pedigree. Elaine Masters was as close to American royalty if there were such a thing. She was the daughter of a prominent politician and a celebrated actress. She attended the best schools and was seen on the arm of many eligible men at prominent events. When Loki, with his dark, brooding looks and bulging wallet crossed her path, Elaine couldn’t resist him. Soon they were dubbed the darlings of the press and gossip magazines even found a moniker for them. She bought him respectability and for as long as he needed that, she would have to stay around.
“What do you do i
f you want to impress someone, my dear?”
Elaine grinned. “Make it impossible for them to look away from me.”
“There you have it.” He walked to the bed and gave her a chaste kiss. She tried to deepen the kiss, but Loki would have none of that. He had made love to her earlier and would’ve been happy to spend the day in bed with her, until the message came from Bo Witteman’s office. Now, the last thing on his mind was sex.
“See you later, my love.”
Chapter 5
Bo hummed to the song on the radio as she waited at the traffic light. She looked around at the people on the pavements. It was a beautiful day. Maybe after her meeting, she could park her car somewhere and take a long walk before she went home to pack. She could check and see if the crepe stand in Battery Park was still there. She used to love their crepes when she first moved here. Now work kept her in her office over lunch and she completely forgot about how much she enjoyed them. A litany of hoots startled her and Bo looked at the traffic light. It was green. She stepped on the gas and her powerful Jaguar sprang to life. She was in the middle of the intersection when she saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. She froze as she saw the car coming straight at her.
“Crap!”
She braced herself for the impact and when it came, she held on to the steering wheel to keep the car from running over the pavement and hitting pedestrians. It all happened so quickly and within a few seconds, it was over. The airbag had deployed and Bo was happy it hadn’t hit her face. She looked around. People were gawking and a few men were running towards her. She glanced at the other car. It had somehow managed to manoeuvre itself so that it had come to rest between the pole and Bo’s car. The man was looking at her, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth.
Shatterproof Page 5