Her Alpha Viking

by Sheryl Nantus

  He made his way to his car, intending to drop his duffel bag off before beginning his vigil.

  Someone stirred in the shadows at the edge of the building, drawing his attention.

  Erik tensed, turning his feet into a fighting stance. If a mugger thought he’d make easy prey, the man was in for a big surprise…

  She stepped out into the light, and he saw her fully.

  His mystery woman. She stood there, hands at her sides as she stared at him.

  He swallowed hard, seeing her again. This was no dream, no battle hallucination, no drunken vision.

  She was real. Waiting for him.

  “Hey.” Erik almost ran to her, crossing the distance between them in a few long strides. “I know this sounds crazy, but I’ve seen you somewhere before. Can I talk to you?”

  The knife flashed in the dim moonlight, coming toward him.

  Chapter Five

  She wanted to give him a fast death, as painless as she could manage. A warrior of his status deserved no less. Her weapon of choice had always been her lance, but she couldn’t carry one around.

  A knife would have to do.

  As for talking to him…that would have to wait until they arrived in Valhalla and she found some way to make it happen. She couldn’t fail twice, putting her own needs above her duty.

  She lunged forward, a straight slice across his chest.

  “What the hell?” He arched away from her, the blade barely missing his torso. It cut through the T-shirt, exposing a fine set of toned, firm muscles as he twisted free. He swung his duffel bag between them, using it as a makeshift shield.

  Brenna ground her teeth, forcing herself to stay focused. A jab found empty air as he dodged to one side, keeping the bag up.

  This was not acceptable. He had no armor and had to be weary from the fight. The longer she took, the more she risked someone seeing them and interfering.

  “All I want to do is talk to you,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She bit back a laugh as she lunged again at him. To think that a man like this could injure her…

  “Enough,” Erik growled, the dominance in his voice startling her. “No more playing around.”

  He stepped in and shoved the duffel against her, pushing her back against the wall. Her knife dug into the thick canvas, trapped as he stared into her eyes.

  “All I’m asking is for a few minutes to chat,” he snapped. “Work with me here, please?” His tone was softer, gentler. “Come on.”

  Her confidence wavered, but only for a second.

  She didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want to hear him speak again. But it was unavoidable.

  “I promise this’ll be as painless as possible.” Brenna grabbed the duffel and tossed it aside. “Please let me do my duty.”

  He gave her an incredulous glare as he sidestepped another jab.

  Brenna’s cheeks burned.

  Her sisters would be mortified if they saw her now, unable to take down a hurt, tired man. She lunged forward again, blocking with her left hand as she brought the blade up for a quick disembowelment.

  She had to kill him.

  Erik stepped inside her personal space and slammed his hands together, slapping her wrist holding the weapon.

  It flew free, skittering across the pavement as pain shot up her arm, forcing her to pull back.

  The crowd roared at her back, the warehouse wall vibrating with their cheers.

  “Who are you?” Erik demanded. He grabbed her aching wrist in an iron grip. “Enough. Tell me who you are and what this is all about.”

  Brenna slammed her fist into his gut, trying to twist away.

  No luck.

  The warrior shifted to stand behind her, his fingers tight on her skin as he put her into a choke-hold.

  She let out an angry snarl, a combination of rage and embarrassment at being so easily manipulated. Centuries of training and he was handling her like a raw recruit on her first day.

  Brenna caught a whiff of his natural scent, and her legs went weak, the musky smell of sweat and testosterone setting her blood afire. His hips rocked against hers, keeping her trapped and in his control.

  Anger surged up at her involuntary reaction.

  What is happening to me?

  Brenna stamped on his instep, invoking a rough grunt from the man behind her.

  “Don’t…” he snarled. “Don’t make this harder than it is.”

  She threw her head back in an attempt to break his nose. He tilted his head to one side and avoided the blow, the pressure on her throat tightening.

  If she was lucky, she had a full minute left before she passed out.

  If she was lucky.

  “Who are you?” he said into her ear, the heated breath rushing over her skin. “I’ll keep on asking until you tell me.”

  Brenna bit back the answer. He wouldn’t believe it anyway.

  A fast elbow jab joined with a flex of the knees gave her the escape she needed. She winced inside, imagining the pain. He couldn’t be at full fighting strength, not after being in the cage, which made this situation even more embarrassing.

  She drove toward the knife only to be stopped by a firm grip on her waist, yanking her back.

  “Why are you trying to hurt me?” Erik yanked her hands behind her back, spinning her around to face the warehouse wall. “I swear, I don’t want to call the cops, but I’m getting seriously pissed off here.” One hand curled around both wrists, the vice-like grip keeping her still.

  He pressed her face against the cool brick, his knee wedged between her legs to keep her still. His free hand went to the back of her neck, controlling her.

  A shiver ran through her body, startling her. The possessive touch ignited something inside her, a primeval force of nature she thought didn’t exist for Valkyries.

  Except she wasn’t a Valkyrie. She was fallen and mortal and in so much more trouble than she’d ever thought.

  “It’s been a bad night so far, and I don’t need it to get worse.” His grip increased. “Tell me who you are.” His voice dropped to a low, soft whisper. “I have to know.”

  …

  For a second Erik wondered if he was hallucinating, lying there on the mat with blood gushing out of his nose as the referee counted down the seconds. In a minute he would wake up, sprawled on a bench in the back room or, worse, headed for the hospital with a concussion.

  Except it was real. All of it.

  The woman from his dreams existed in real life. She was alive and here and trying to kill him.

  Two out of three positives weren’t so bad.

  The rush of adrenaline that had surged through his body at seeing the knife was disappearing, his strength ebbing as she struggled. It was pure luck and surprise that had him disarm her so quickly. He couldn’t hold on for much longer.

  He had to finish this and finish it fast.

  “I don’t want to hurt you. But I’m not going to let you stab me.”

  She writhed against him, unaware of the effect it was having. He might be tired and beat up, but by God, he was still a man and she was a beautiful woman who set his blood afire. In a different time and place, he’d be kissing the back of her neck, thinking about how many ways to have her before the night was over.

  “Let me go.”

  “Not if you’re going to attack me again.” He leaned in, fighting the urge to tug on her ear with his teeth, see what other sounds he could pull out of her. “What’s your problem? Did you lose your rent check betting on me? Some sort of internet challenge? Why are you doing this?”

  He couldn’t figure out a way to ask her the question he needed answered the most.

  Are you the woman from my dreams?

  There was no way to ask that wouldn’t make him sound crazy.

  “I can’t…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Listen to me. You can’t avoid your destiny. Your fate. All I’m trying to do is balance the scales, fix the mistake I made.”

  Erik turned he
r around to face him, pressing her back to the wall. “Explain yourself.” He pulled her arms up over her head. “What the hell does that mean, mistake?”

  It was hard to not drop his guard as he looked at her deep blue eyes, her skin flushed from their struggle. He pressed his knee between her legs, trapping her again.

  “I failed once. I can’t fail again,” she said. “I have to correct my error.” She kept talking, the words tumbling out after each other. “I’m so, so sorry for leaving you behind. I want to take you to Valhalla, to be with your friends. Please let me…”

  He leaned in. “Tell me who you are. Where you came from.” He tightened his hold, keeping her from twisting away. “Please.”

  She licked her lips, and for a wild moment, he thought about kissing her, tasting her again.

  “I’m a Valkyrie. And I need to kill you.”

  For a second, a glorious second, he believed her.

  “Let me finish what I started back in the sand, a year ago.” Her words were soft, mesmerizing him. “Take you to sit with your peers, celebrating in the Great Halls until the end of days.”

  He moved closer. He could feel the heat from her skin, the tension in her body rising as she pressed against him.

  “Let’s go home,” she whispered almost into his mouth, their lips almost touching. “Let’s…”

  A horn sounded in the parking lot, and they both flinched.

  Erik pulled back, the harsh reality crashing down on him. He squeezed her wrists again, grinding his teeth as he fought his way out of the tempting dream.

  No.

  This is the real world, and there are no angels, no women flying around the battlefield snatching souls.

  No Valkyries.

  He shook his head, banishing the thoughts with the cold truth.

  This couldn’t be the woman of his dreams. This was a mentally ill person, someone who had found solace in a delusion.

  Maybe that’s who his mystery woman was. Another soldier in the sand, someone for him to have a delirious dream about, put her into his own desperate fantasy. A chance meeting in the meal line feeding his imagination, overstimulated by pain and shock to create this illusion.

  His heart sank with the revelation. Another wounded soul like himself, dealing with battle trauma.

  She relaxed into his grip, waiting to see if her words had affected him.

  “Listen, you need help.” He didn’t have a clue how to approach this, had no idea what would be a trigger for her.

  He couldn’t just let her go. Aside from the imminent danger to himself, he couldn’t risk someone else getting hurt, swept into her fantasy.

  He glanced over to where the knife still lay on the asphalt, just out of reach.

  “I can take you to the drop-in center, make some phone calls.”

  She frowned, her confusion evident.

  “I’m trying to help you. Work with me here.” Erik looked at her hands. “I’m going to let go now, and we’re going to talk. You make a move toward that knife and I’ll put you back down again, so don’t try it.”

  He released her, watching as she lowered her arms slowly. “Are you on any medication? Do you have someone I can call to come take you home?” He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tense muscles. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not anyone you would know or want to be with.”

  He wanted to believe her, he really did. But it couldn’t be true.

  There were no Valkyries, no angels falling from heaven. There were only battlefield hallucinations, minds snapping under stress.

  She glared at him. “I’m not insane.” She touched her hand to her heart, pressing against the white blouse. “I made a mistake, and I need to fix it. I need to…” She frowned as her attention shot over his shoulder to focus on something, someone behind him.

  He tensed up, recognizing that look from years of combat.

  Danger.

  She grabbed him by the shoulders and threw both of them to the right, crashing down on the asphalt.

  He looked up to see the metal lance stab into the wall, the point sending off sparks as it failed to penetrate the thick bricks. It pulled back, safe in the woman’s grip and ready to strike again.

  Damn. Shit just got real.

  Chapter Six

  Brenna was caught between being mortified and enraged. She pushed Erik away from her and scrambled to her feet. The sick feeling in the pit of her stomach grew as she spotted who had attacked them.

  The woman stood in a battle stance, gripping the lance with both hands. Her Valkyrie armor and wings were gone, replaced with a long black leather trench coat over a T-shirt and jeans. Her blonde hair was long, pulled back in a loose braid over her shoulder.

  Kara.

  Before Brenna could speak, the woman shook her head. “Step away, sister. Now it’s my turn to finish the job.” She leaped forward, targeting Erik who was still on the ground, his eyes wide as he took in the scene.

  Brenna charged in and grabbed the spear, stopping the assault as she tried to pull it out of her sister’s hands. “What are you doing? This is my mission.”

  Erik scrambled to his feet and moved out of range, warily eyeing the pair.

  “It was your mission. Again, you refuse to complete it. Now it falls to me to correct your mistake.” She spat out the last word as she stepped back, yanking the weapon free from Brenna’s grip. “What is wrong with you? Did living among these people turn you soft? Have you forgotten your true home?”

  Brenna raised her chin, glaring at her. “I’ve hunted this man since our Mother sent me here to look for him. Now he’s within my grasp. Why are you here?”

  Kara gestured at Erik, who was watching them intently. “Is it that hard to figure out? Because he’s still alive. I watched you hunt him, witnessed you waiting out here for him. I saw your shameful attempt, hardly worthy to be called an attack.” She shook her head. “You not only failed to kill him, but you allowed yourself to be disarmed and dominated.”

  Brenna swallowed hard, unable to dispute the charges.

  “What’s wrong with you? How did you lose your way?” Kara’s voice softened, and for a second, Brenna was back at her barracks, talking sister-to-sister as they worked and trained together.

  “I didn’t.” She grabbed the lance out of Kara’s hands again. “I can kill him, and I will.”

  She spun and pointed the rod at him. He stood there, staring at her.

  A short jab, that was all it would take. Straight to the heart, through the remains of the T-shirt hanging off his shoulders. Fast and deadly.

  The spear vibrated in her hands.

  Brenna realized with shock her fingers were trembling.

  “Enough.” Kara shook her head. “This is what our Mother feared, why she sent me to carry out her orders if you failed.” She yanked the weapon out of Brenna’s hands.

  Brenna let out a yell as the sharp tip dragged along her forearm, slicing through the leather jacket and the thin blouse underneath.

  The burning, shocking pain ran through her arm, startling her. She slapped her hand over the cut, numbness seeping through her mind.

  No.

  Kara saw it, too. She took a step back, using one hand to point the spear at Brenna. “You have been forsaken by Freyja while I remain blessed.” She glared at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll take his soul to Valhalla, as is his honor and duty. You, you will go to Helheim to spend eternity separated from us for your misdeeds.” Her voice softened. “Don’t fight me, sister—I promise I’ll make this fast for you.”

  Brenna couldn’t breathe. She stared at Kara, frozen in fear and anger at hearing her own words tossed back at her.

  Erik sprang into action, charging at them with an angry roar that startled the two women.

  He slammed his shoulder into Kara, sending her flying. The Valkyrie’s head bounced off the concrete as she skidded to a stop, a good distance from the pair. The lance broke free to roll under a nearby car—out of reach. Her eyelids fluttered as she le
vered herself up to her knees and glared at them, wavering in a struggle to stay upright.

  Erik staggered to his feet. He let out a low whistle, seeing Kara’s rapid recovery.

  “Fuck.” He looked at Brenna. “Is she alone?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.” She spun around, expecting the Fenris Wolf to leap out of the darkness at them. “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Fuck,” he repeated. “I’m not staying around to find out if she brought backup. I’m in no shape, and neither are you.”

  He grabbed his duffel bag, offering his free hand to her. “I’m not leaving you here. We’ll figure this out someplace else, where no one’s trying to stab either of us.”

  She didn’t hesitate, taking hold and following him to a nearby car.

  Her world had shifted in a matter of seconds, the hard facts punching her consciousness with an almost audible thud.

  Kara was here. Kara had tried to kill her. Neither of which would have happened without approval by their Mother. Who had obviously been watching her fumble her attempt to take Erik’s soul.

  Again.

  Erik dropped the bag and dug in his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. “Damn it. I thought all the fighting was going to be inside the ring.” He turned his head to one side and spat out blood before glancing toward the still-dazed Kara. “Your friend plays rough. What’s her problem?”

  “She’s another…” Brenna hesitated, not sure what to say. If he didn’t believe her before, he sure wouldn’t believe her now.

  “Another Valkyrie? Are you kidding me?” Erik yanked the door open. “We can talk later. Right now, we need to get the hell out of here before she gets her act together and comes after us again. I’m in no mood or shape to deal with this.”

  “She’s…” Brenna let the sentence trail off, trying to figure out what to say.

  “Whatever.” The car engine roared to life. Erik flung open the passenger door. “I’m not going to drag you along if you don’t want to come, but I think it’s a damned good idea.”

  She glanced back and spotted Kara propping herself against the side of a car, spear in hand.

  She slid in over the dark green leather seats. “Let’s go.”