Her Alpha Viking

by Sheryl Nantus

  “I’m sorry.”

  She turned and looked at him, taken aback by his words.

  “I can’t say I know what it feels like, what’s going on between you and Kara. But I’m sorry.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  They sat in silence until the bus arrived. The driver grunted, punched their tickets, and waved them on board.

  Erik led her to a seat not far from the front, away from the handful of passengers clustered at the back near the washroom.

  “Little privacy here,” he explained as the bus lurched forward. “You showed the driver your identification—where did you get that from?”

  She withdrew her wallet and showed him the driver’s license and social security card. “I had this when I landed. Mother wasn’t going to send me down with nothing.”

  He gave her a wry smile. “Of course not. Freyja thinks of everything.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to berate him for mocking Mother, but she said nothing.

  Another hour of starting and stopping at street corners, picking up and dropping off the odd person, and her patience was almost at an end.

  “How much longer can this take?” she fumed.

  “It’ll take what it takes. Here.” He opened his duffel bag and extracted a pair of energy bars. “I could use a snack.”

  He gave her one before he ripped his own open. “About Hel. You said it’s basically for the worst of the worst—betrayers.” Erik pulled out a water bottle. “Who takes them there? Valkyries?”

  She nodded. “Of a sort. They have their place at the other end of the compound, away from us. We train together, but we’re not close—they keep to themselves.”

  Erik finished off the bar in two bites. “Who chooses where you go? When Freyja saved you back in the forest, why didn’t you go to the dark side? Who decides where you’re assigned?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s not where I was needed.”

  He fell silent, and she was grateful for the quiet. She didn’t like to think about Hel and definitely not about the Valkyries who spent their time delivering damned souls. They might be her sisters, but their haunted eyes, their weary faces made her uneasy. They rarely talked, and when they did it was in whispers, wincing at the smallest sound as if it hurt their ears.

  The bus dropped them off in King City around noon. They ate lunch in a small diner, Erik counting his cash as he left a tip for the waitress. She winced inside, more aware than ever of her empty wallet. Freyja withdrawing her blessings wasn’t the biggest problem in her life right now, but it’d become one soon enough.

  “Where to now?” She followed him out of the diner and into the street.

  “There’s a park.” He pointed to their right. “We’ve still got a good hour or so before the next bus arrives. Time to rest up.”

  He led her in, gesturing at the cool shade under a fat tree.

  “Go and nap. I’ll stand watch.” He sat with his back to the broad trunk. “Ditching the car might slow her down, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

  Brenna folded her jacket and lay her head down, watching him.

  Erik stared straight ahead, his hands curled around his knees.

  She closed her eyes and let her breath out slowly, willing herself to sleep.

  She was back in Valhalla, flying over the Great Halls filled with warriors, feasting and fighting as they waited for the final call to arms. They spread out in front of her in rows, the different uniforms merging into one mighty army as they drank together, laughed together, and enjoyed each other’s company.

  Her wings carried her to the barracks where she landed lightly, careful not to bang her lance on the marble floor. She pressed the button on the side, and it collapsed to the size of a walking stick, making it easier to handle. It was a small but useful feature, one she’d come to appreciate over the centuries. The Valkyries were trained in stick fighting as well, in case during Ragnarok their spears broke, and they had to make do with any weapon at hand.

  She placed it in the rack before pulling off her helmet and tucking it under her arm. She began unsnapping the buckles holding her breastplate secure as she walked, preparing to put it away along with the rest of her equipment.

  A man stepped in front of her, bringing up his shield and barring her way.

  Brenna frowned. “Let me pass.”

  He shook his head. He wore the Guards’ generic armor, their primary assignment to keep unauthorized people from wandering into the barracks. With so many warriors around, it was natural for one or two to become curious about the Valkyries and attempt to find out more by visiting their private quarters.

  It was very much discouraged.

  “Let me pass,” Brenna repeated.

  He stood his ground.

  “Sister.”

  She turned to see Kara standing there in full armor. She held out the walking stick Brenna had just placed in the rack and pressed the button, extending the spear to full length.

  “You’re not allowed in here anymore.” She leveled the point of the lance at Brenna. “You’ve shamed us all. For a man.” She spat on the ground. “For a mortal.”

  “I didn’t…” Brenna swallowed hard. “You don’t understand.”

  “What’s to understand?” Kara advanced on her. “This was never a complicated plan. You were supposed to find him and kill him. You had one job, one thing to do, and you failed. You faltered because you were weak.” She stopped, well within thrusting range for the weapon. “Too weak to do what you were born to do, trained to do. Why?”

  “Lower your lance,” Brenna said. She narrowed her eyes. “I won’t fight you.”

  “Really? Because I’m willing to fight you. To restore our honor.” Kara growled. She took a step forward, the sharp spear aimed at Brenna’s chest. “You are a disgrace to our sisters and to our Mother. You have no right to this lance, to this armor—to these wings and to the call.”

  Brenna stepped back. Suddenly she teetered on the edge of a precipice, the darkness of eternity behind her. No stars, none of the other Realms, nothing but void.

  She spread her wings instinctively, ready to fly.

  They weren’t there. Her shoulder blades burned with their absence.

  “I’ll kill you and take your place.” Kara moved again, the metal point almost touching now. “Freyja will have to recognize me as the best among us.”

  “Is that what this is all about?” Brenna couldn’t hold back the scorn. “Because I bested you years ago?” She shook her head. “It was just a game, an exercise to assign us ranks, as the Allfather commanded. Our Mother told us that. I’ve never treated you as less than an equal.”

  Kara’s eyes narrowed. “No matter.” The razor-sharp edge pressed against the cool metal breastplate. “Your betrayal is complete. Your sins will follow you in Helheim forever, desperate and alone.” Her lips curled up in a sneer. “Fly straight.”

  Before Brenna could reply to the traditional saying, the spear shot forward, slamming into her chest and pushing her off the edge.

  She screamed as she spiraled into the Void, arms and legs flailing around in an attempt to catch and hold on to something, anything to steady herself. Her hands grabbed at empty space, and her stomach twisted as she realized her fate—to fall forever between worlds, an even worse punishment than wandering alone in the barren wasteland of Helheim.

  An image of Freyja appeared in her mind’s eye, the gentle smile washing over her like a cool breeze. The long blonde hair framed her angelic face, the deep blue eyes locking with hers.

  I will always be with you.

  “Are you all right?”

  The soft voice wrapped around Brenna, drawing her back out of the vision.

  “I said, are you all right?”

  Chapter Eleven

  She woke with a start, her face wet with sweat. A blonde woman stared at her, and for a soothing moment she was back in her dream, Freyja’s words echoing in her mind.

  Her Mother�
��s face faded away, overlaid with the one of the uniformed female officer looking at her, forehead furrowed with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Her dark blue police cap edged forward, shading her eyes.

  “Hey.”

  The single word caught Brenna off guard, jarring her back into reality.

  Her fingers dug into the dirt around her as she sat up, her throat dry as she blinked the sleep away.

  “Don’t worry about her, she’s fine. Just catching a nap.”

  She looked to the side and saw Erik, already on his feet and brushing dust from his knees. He gave the officer a deferential nod. “We’re not out to cause any trouble. Give us a few minutes to get it together and we’ll move along.”

  The policewoman raised a hand, waving him down. “No problem at all. The park’s here for everyone to enjoy. Wanted to let you know the community center’s setting up a dinner spread for you. Be ready in an hour or so, being a last-minute thing and all.” She gestured toward a small group of people at the edge of the park. “You can tell the others. Nothing fancy, spaghetti and meatballs, but they’ll do our best by you. We take care of our own.”

  “What?” Brenna scrubbed her eyes with her palms, trying to dispel the last faint memories of Freyja from her mind’s eye. “Excuse me?”

  Erik cleared his throat as he moved to stand near her. “I’m sorry, there seems to have been a mistake. We’re not with that group.” He touched his chest, giving the officer a warm smile. “It’s just the two of us.”

  “Oh,” the woman said. “I stand corrected. Assumed you were associated with them ’cause you’re hanging out nearby.” She tapped the brim of her uniform cap. “Sorry ’bout that.”

  “What are they doing?” Brenna asked. She stretched out her legs and reached for her toes, feeling the weary muscles protesting. A glance at the officer showed she only had a passing resemblance to Freyja, the dream likely a result of Brenna’s tired and overworked mind.

  “Group of vets heading to Washington, DC, for some convention. Doing chitchats along the way, stopped in town to talk to the local high school. Was so popular they got asked to do it all over again tonight at the center after a fundraising dinner, open to the public—those who couldn’t get to the school. If you’re not with them, well…just take care of yourselves. Stay safe.” She eyed Brenna with a soft smile. “Fly straight.”

  The words bounced around Brenna’s sleep-addled mind.

  What…

  Erik nodded. “Thank you.”

  Before she could react, the uniformed woman moved off, strolling around a nearby tall hedge and out of sight.

  Erik, oblivious to the commotion in Brenna’s mind, offered a hand. “Sorry about that. Turned around and she was standing over you. Guess she wanted to make sure you weren’t here against your will.” He frowned as he pulled her upright. “You okay? Look a little dazed. Deep sleep?”

  She stood, still gripping his hand. “Yeah. Something like that.”

  Fly straight.

  She took a few hesitant steps, her legs unsteady and wobbly from the recent exercise. But she found her footing and moved around the tall hedge where the policewoman had gone.

  No one was there—the short hedge led to the sidewalk and street, everyone in plain sight as they walked or jogged by. It was possible the officer had gotten into a waiting car and left, but…

  Erik tilted his head to one side as Brenna returned. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes. I guess.” She pushed the thought away for a second as they glanced over at the marchers. Four of them sat at the picnic table, equal numbers of men and women.

  “Might as well pass on the message,” she said. “Food’s waiting for them.”

  “Yeah.” Erik studied the extended van in the near-empty parking lot. The magnetic sign slapped on the side read “Washington or Bust—support your Vets!” in bright splashes of color.

  He nodded to himself before smiling at Brenna. “I’ve got an idea.”

  She frowned. “What?”

  He nudged a thumb at the van.

  “You want to steal it?” She snorted. “I thought you said we were trying to stay inconspicuous.”

  “Not steal it. Join them.”

  She caught the idea, juggling it in her mind. “You want to sign up for this…whatever? Kara…”

  “Kara’s smart.” He looked at her. “You said so.”

  “Yes,” Brenna confessed. “She won’t stop until she finds us.”

  “Exactly. Might take some time but she’ll find my car, follow the trail to the bus station, and get our final destination. This’ll send her off on a wild-goose chase, at least until her senses tell her to stop.” He nodded at the group. “Not to mention we’d have safety in numbers. And totally random routes.”

  “But we’ll be putting them in danger. Kara will find us at some point, and she won’t hesitate because civilians are in the way.” She looked at the foursome. “I don’t want to have their blood on my hands.”

  “Neither do I, which is why we’re not going to San Diego,” he replied. “Did a bit of thinking while you slept—Ken’s a good man, but I don’t want to drag him into this. He’s got a wife, and last thing he needs is this sort of crazy.” He nodded at the group. “This might be our best chance of getting out of here. We can always drop out at some point in the future if we sense danger or if they start asking too many questions.” He pressed one hand to his side, and she remembered the bruises. “I could use a few days to heal up fully. We’ll have to fight her sooner or later—I’d rather be in peak fighting form when that happens.”

  “We can at least try and see what they say.” Her grip tightened. “How are we going to join?”

  “Stay here.” He patted her hand before releasing her. “I’ll go over and see what I can do. Worst case, we get back on the bus.”

  She was still shaky from the eerie encounter and leaned against the tree for support as he approached the group, singling out the older man, likely the leader. He had a salt-and-pepper beard, short and neatly trimmed, his black baseball cap proudly proclaiming his Vietnam Veteran status. He smiled and motioned to Erik, drawing him into the circle.

  Brenna closed her eyes, turning her thoughts to the recent dream and how it’d twisted into the encounter with the local police officer.

  It had to be a vision.

  Her skin tingled. She’d never had a vision before.

  Except it showed her expulsion from Valhalla. Was it a premonition?

  Was she about to be punished for failing to kill Erik or Kara?

  She shook her head. Whatever had happened, it was in the past, and she had to deal with the present.

  Erik trotted back toward her with a wide grin.

  “We’re in.”

  She stared at him. “What?”

  Erik picked up her duffel bag and handed it to her. “Jake, the guy in charge, happens to be a fan. Paid the big bucks to watch the fight online last night. Told him I wanted to get out of town quietly, lick my wounds, and go quiet for a bit.”

  She grabbed the luggage, his words still sinking in. “And he doesn’t mind having us tag along?”

  “I gave him some cash for gas money. He’s cool with taking us as far as we want to go, a brotherhood thing, what with us being veterans. Helping our own.”

  Brenna shook her head. “I’m not a veteran. I can’t lie about that. It’d be wrong.”

  “No one’s going to ask you to. Trust me. I’ve got it covered.” He shouldered his own bag. “This chance got dropped in our lap. Let’s not blow it.”

  She nodded and followed, the welcoming smiles disarming her concerns.

  Maybe she was where she was supposed to be. Where they were supposed to be.

  Maybe.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Brenna? My name is Helen.” The dark-haired woman smiled and shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you. So glad you’re going to be traveling with us. Always room for another.” She took the duffel bag from Brenna and handed it to the man beh
ind her. “Tuck this into the back, please?”

  The younger man nodded and went around the back of the van. Helen took hold of Brenna’s arm, leading her to the picnic table. “Have you had anything to eat today?”

  “We had lunch.”

  “All right. We’re preparing to head over to the community center to have dinner, do our presentation again, and then drive to the campground for the night. I hope you don’t mind spaghetti—going to be a pretty popular meal between here and Washington, DC.”

  Brenna smiled, finding it easy to do. Helen’s motherly attitude reminded her of the older Valkyries, naturally taking the newcomers under her care.

  “Let me give you a roll call.” Helen settled beside her. She wore a light yellow blouse with a dark brown leather vest over it, her jeans scraped and worn. “Jake’s the one in charge; he organized this trip. He’s the old man in the group, did a few tours in Vietnam.” She pointed at herself. “I’m a Gulf War vet, the second oldest before you try to do the math.” She smiled, and Brenna saw the crow’s feet around her eyes. “Mark and Lucy are the kids, both from Iraq and Afghanistan. Mark’s cool, though he does like to sneak the occasional smoke, so if you’re allergic or sensitive, be careful around him.”

  Brenna nodded.

  “How much did Erik tell you?”

  “Nothing yet.”

  Helen chuckled. “No big secret here. We’re taking a nice long trip driving from here to Washington, DC. It should take a month or more depending on the stops we make on the way and how fast we want to go. Our goal is to arrive in time for a rally and a convention right afterwards, aimed at pushing the politicians to increase our benefits and put more money into Veterans’ Affairs, more drop-in centers, more health care, the usual.”

  Brenna frowned. “What are you doing at the stops?”

  “Making presentations at local community centers, schools, wherever we can get an audience. Our goal is to put a human face on the suffering, on the experiences we’ve had. Can’t do that with a teleconference or an interactive web page. We’re the real deal. I’m retired, so I had the time to come on the trip. The others have their own stories. All there is to it.”