by K.N. Lee
“He’s my bonded warrior, yes. I’m his queen. It’s all very Nordic and ancient-sounding but the sentiment and love connection is as true as it gets.” A small, secretive smile formed on Fraya’s lips.
Kara stayed quiet for a few moments, unsure of whether to push Fraya’s open, sharing mood. Finally, she said, “Any clues on where I am to live now that I’m a Valkyrie? How will I support myself?”
Fraya rubbed her chin. “You could keep your Tremont apartment, but we’d advise against it. Too many memories and questions there. You’ll get a stipend, a living wage for your service but still, you’ll have to blend in. Next week, let’s head over to HQ and see what we can find for you. But first, you have your next assignment.” She pointed down to Sisters of Mercy hospital.
Kara glanced below. “Oh! We got here fast.”
Fraya chuckled. “Yeah, but Mr. Show-off got here faster.” She pointed at Bork, striding along the streetlight illuminated sidewalk at a crisp clip, carrying Jaidon.
Kara stared at the two men. “Whoa. Shortcut?”
“No doubt,” Fraya said. “Either that or he had to show off his incredible wing speed.” She scoffed.
They flew lower, until they were within earshot of Bork.
“Put me down,” Jaidon croaked from below. “I’ve got this.”
“Not on your life,” Bork said, trotting out of sight into the building.
“Men,” Fraya said. “You can bet Bork is enjoying the hell out of being a special agent.” She pointed to a dark area of the parking lot, near the edge.
Kara landed, folding her wings out of sight.
Fraya touched down next. She gripped Kara by the shoulders, letting her scorching gaze burn right through Kara’s soul. “You’ve got this, sister.”
“You’re not going in with me?” Kara suddenly felt small.
“Nope. You’ve got to do this on your own. Your first true kill is always the hardest.”
Kara swallowed hard. She took in Fraya’s stunning, powerful appearance, drawing strength. She wondered how she’d ever thought of denying this new destiny—her new life as a Valkyrie warrior. Then, she let out a deep breath. “I’ve got this.”
Fraya nodded. “I know you do.” She spun Kara around and gave her a small shove. “Aim true and send your human soul to join with yours.”
Kara trotted toward the emergency room entrance. Before entering the sliding glass doors, she turned to wave to Fraya, but the warrior-woman had already taken off. Sighing, Kara strode through the doors as if she owned the hospital. She hoped no one saw her and the blood spattering her clothes.
Bork stood arguing with a nurse at the check-in counter. He still held Jaidon.
Jaidon appeared to have passed out again. His skin looked waxen, blotted with bruises.
“This man needs care, pronto! He did his service for the United States. Now you do yours!”
“Of course. I already told you, agent...” The woman’s hand fluttered and shook as she shuffled through paperwork.
“Agent none of your business, that’s who.”
“The doctors are on their way.”
“Not good enough. They should already be here. Who’s in charge? Let me speak to your supervisor.” His voice ricocheted around the empty waiting area.
Kara slid past them, not wanting to draw attention. She found the lift and took it to the fifth floor.
The corridor was empty now of night. A few quiet voices could be heard from the nurse’s station on her right. Kara moved down the left, in stealth mode.
When she arrived at room 501, she stared at the frail woman on the bed who looked two threads short of a complete unraveling.
The silvery cord connecting their bodies shone dimly, as if already sensing her human form’s demise.
The steady whoosh of machines powered her human lungs, her heart, her very existence. She’d already be gone without modern technology.
Standing in the doorway, Kara stared at the spiky waveforms on the heart-rate monitor, recording her human heart’s activity. She looked right and left down the corridor. Spying no one, she slipped inside the room and closed the door.
Her shoulders drew back with military precision. Withdrawing the crossbow, she lifted the scope to her eye. Am I ready for this? This act was the ultimate act of love. She’d loved Jaidon. Sure, he’d mourn, but he’d have a chance to love again. May he marry a good housewife sort of woman, not a field agent. She chuckled.
She loved the person she’d been. She looked forward to the person she would become. And the person standing here holding the crossbow? That woman kicked some serious ass. Without another thought, without hesitation, she aimed, letting the arrow fly straight through her human heart.
23
Kara stood underneath a tree bursting with cherry blossoms, gazing at of a group of mourners at St. Augustine’s cemetery in Boston. With sunglasses on and her hoodie pulled over her abundant red hair, she stood far enough back to be able to witness the entire event, yet not so close as to be noticed.
It was weird watching her human body be put to rest.
Her parents had chosen this historic cemetery, which dated back to the 1800s, to be their final resting place. Little did they know they’d be burying their daughter before they died.
A substantial crowd came to watch Agent Kara Falko’s funeral. Uniformed FBI and police, as well as friends and family gathered in somber repose around the oak casket. Younger agents carried the American flag in white-gloved hands. Konner stood, staring into the distance next to Agent Richter. Dark circles ringed his eyes, making Kara wonder if he thought of her as more than the mere distraction Fraya had mentioned.
I always thought he liked me. Maybe he simply couldn’t see me as his equal. She shrugged. If he could see me now. I could kick his ass to Sunday and back.
A black clad priest, with a black leather bible propped in his right hand, intoned wishes for her human soul.
Kara chuckled, knowing she’d already taken care of the soul-part. Last night she’d even dreamed of her human-self bossing Odin around.
Jaidon was a compete wreck. He sat in a wheelchair, his leg in a stiff white cast, his face hung in his hands. Grief poured from him.
Her mom, dressed in a black linen dress, stood next to Jaidon’s wheelchair, gripping his shoulder as she sobbed.
Standing stiffly next to her mom, even her father dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief.
Kara wished she could comfort them but figured she’d only do more harm than good if she approached. And approaching Jaidon, well—she had no doubt would send him to his own grave.
A flutter of wings with accompanying caws caught her attention. She looked up to see crows flying overhead. One of them landed. It hopped from branch to branch, coming to rest at the lowest limb—the one near her head.
“Go ahead.” She tapped her shoulder. “You can land here. Just don’t go snooping around inside my eardrum.”
The crow landed, ruffling its feathers.
She inclined her head toward the bird, nuzzling its feathers softly with her hood.
It made a low rattling noise.
“I think he likes you.”
She jerked, craning her head turning this way and that, searching for the man belonging to the voice.
Ace strode toward her, grinning, his long legs striding across the groomed grass. He held out his arms.
She raced toward him, leaped, and threw herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his hips.
He caught her, stumbled backward, and then righted himself. He squeezed her hard. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” She leaned back, eyed his luscious ruby lips, and slanted her mouth to his. She kissed him like there was no tomorrow.
He ground his lips against hers.
Finally, she pulled back. “Even though it was only a couple days...”
“It felt like weeks.”
“Immortal training has its own timeline.” She couldn’t stop the stupid grin on
her face.
“Right? Check this out.” He gently released her, pushed up the sleeve of his Henley shirt, and flexed his muscle.
Kara whistled. “Nice biceps, baby. It matches mine.” She pushed her sleeve up and flexed her arm, too.
“I couldn’t have gotten that ripped in a couple days.” Ace returned the grin.
“That’s the thing. We get to operate in all kinds of time warps.”
They stood, smiling at one another.
“You look fantastic. What all did you learn?” Kara said, stroking a curly lock from his forehead.
“Oh, man. It will take a while to tell it, let alone integrate it.” He pushed her hood back and lowered his lips to her neck.
She shivered as he nibbled her sensitive skin.
“Got any plans?” he said, when he finally lifted his head.
She stared into his unforgettable blue eyes. “Other than hang out with you and sort out my immortal life? Can’t think of anything.” She turned to face the funeral.
The casket was being lowered into the ground.
Jaidon, her mom, and her dad continued sobbing.
“It’s so sad. I wish I could let them know I truly am in a better place. I hope my human soul is bossing Odin around. I’m sure she is. My Valkyrie self is starting a process of self-discovery.”
Ace took her hand, drawing it up to his lips. He kissed each finger. “Do you feel the need to stick around here and watch it to its sorrowful finish?” He inclined his head toward the mourners. “Because...I got a new place. Apparently, being Death I get a stipend.”
Kara laughed. “Me, too! I’ll get a new apartment on Monday.”
They turned and walked side by side.
“I got a motorcycle, too. It will get me around better than my Jeep ever could.” He made the gesture of the cross on his chest. “May it rest its soul in Jeep heaven.” He wrapped his arm around Kara’s shoulders. “You ready to ride, fire goddess? I figured we’d head over to my place, do whatever we feel like doing...” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Then, I hear there’s a wicked gang war erupting over on the south side. You up for some justice and soul sending?”
“After fooling around with you? I couldn’t imagine anything better. If we get to head back and fool around some more.”
Reaching for her hand, he laughed and picked up his pace to a jog.
When they got to his motorcycle, she let her hands outline the gleaming black body. Her fingertips traced the image of Death on a motorbike painted on the gas tank.
“Pretty cheesy, Ace. You know that, right?”
“Hey,” he said, in mock annoyance. “That symbol is sacred.” He thumped his chest with his fist. “Every death guy through time has had some version of it inked on his skin.”
“Do you have it inked on your skin, too?”
“Yes, I do. And I can’t wait to show you—to feel you—to love you.”
She inhaled sharply at his words. “You love me?”
“I do. What’s death without a companion?”
“I don’t know.” She dropped her gaze to her feet, feeling human suddenly. “I…I love you, too, Ace.”
“Let me see your eyes.”
She met his beautiful, unforgettable eyes. “I love you,” she said again, with more conviction.
“Thank God. Life would be so un-fun if it wasn’t shared.” He swung one long leg over the motorcycle frame. “Climb on, baby. And let’s ride. I don’t ever plan on letting you get away.”
She swung her leg behind him, settling onto the cushy leather seat. Then, she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around and placing her hands on his thighs. “Let’s go. We have a lot of learning ahead.”
“And loving.” He powered on the engine. “That’s going to be my favorite part.”
~The End~
About the Author
A New York Times and USA Today bestselling, award-winning author, Calinda B writes kick-ass heroines who don't know their own strength. When she's not writing, she's been known to fall off ice cliffs; fire walk with Russian fire officials; or wake up from a six weeks coma, wondering how she got there in the first place. She’s been stuck in deadly currents at Deception Pass in her kayak, and loves to swim with sharks. She greets every day with a smile and an openness to what might be around the next corner.
With umpteen books roaming the universe and more in her head, you can find her at www.calindab.com. Or, if you want to stay connected, join the exclusive mailing list! http://www.calindab.com/newslettersignup.html
Also by Calinda B
SERIES:
Favors for the Fallen (coming in 2018)
Full Moon Falling: Book 1
Death meets the Dying: Book 2
A Fire in the Dark: Book 3
The Charming Shifter Mysteries:
Storm Shift: Book 1
Power Shift: Book 2
Blood Shift: Book 3
Bad Boys Need Love, Too:
Looks Like Trouble to Me UNCUT: Book 1
Trouble Times Two UNCUT: Book 2
Tracked by Trouble: Book 3
Point of Contact:
Blurred Lines – a 3 Part Military Romance: Book 1
Sassy Aphrodite and her Sweet Dirty Mouth: Book 2
Riding the Edge of Darkness: Book 3
Standalones:
Night Whispers (Also in Audible)
Red Rex: Blood Echoes (Also in Audible)
Night Whispers (Also in Audible)
Headspace
Meeting with My Maker
Crow’s Caw at Nightmoon Creek
Fire (Also in Audible)
The Remingtons: Crazy Love
The Remingtons: A Twist of Love
All books can be viewed on this page: http://calindab.com/books.aspx
Fox Trap
A Guardians of Ghael Novella
Jayne Fury
Lies. Shifters. And space vampires.
Elly Morgan’s a PI on a mission to capture a murderer. But when she encounters him in an alley on her home moon, she discovers he’s more dangerous than she expected—too much even for a foxkin like her to handle.
Detective Blaine Cornell’s tracking the same murderous quarry—and though teaming up with the beautiful ex-cop-turned-PI makes sense, the secrets he must keep from her put them both in a life-and death-struggle to save her kindred.
If they can’t learn to trust each other, they could both lose everything. And set a blood-sucking fiend loose on the innocent inhabitants of the moons of Ghael.
For Jason
My Carolina Lowland country boy who adopted me as his mum
And who loves foxes of all varieties.
1
The Patriarchs
The order was simple. Show up.
Two days ago, Blaine Cornell – son of Patriarch Solblaine, of Clan Solblaine – found himself in the Hall of the Brotherhood with boot heels clicking down a shiny white tiled corridor. White like the teeth of the Sanguinary, his race of kindred. The swish of his long black oiled duster accompanied the tattoo.
Shusssh, click-click, shusssh, click-click.
The request came from the Council of the Consanguinity. Actually, the summons had come from Blaine’s father, who sat on the Council as he had for over a millennium.
Men in crimson robes hustled to and fro, nodding or ignoring Blaine as he made his way to the final chamber of the corridor. The heady perfume of fresh kill was sweet. Seductive. Mouthwatering. Blaine caught himself in a swoon, stiffened, and bit down on his inner cheek to regain composure.
There was always fresh blood in the chamber.
Stopping at the door he waited, inhaling, testing himself. He was ready.
A red-clad guard opened it from the inside.
As the monstrous door swung open, the scent hit him like a starving man at a banquet. He winced, turned his chin to his shoulder, and covered his mouth and nose with a silk handkerchief he hastily retrieved from his coat pocket.
Membership to the council wa
s limited to the ten Patriarchs, the First Ones, brought here by the Forebearers who had come from Teeva’Oa to form the Will, which dictated the laws of the alliance of lunar races that circled Ghael. Only nine Patriarchs remained.
He turned his head back to the ruling council members sitting on the high dais, waiting, unflinching, watching him. Save for The Solblaine. That Patriarch’s gaze was focused left. Instinctively Blaine followed the scan and caught a glimpse of the chamber in the corner of the expansive room. A chamber which, in all of his four hundred years, had always held the stasis form of the arch criminal, Patriarch Ysbal.
It was empty. The door hung open, an impotent icon of its failure.
Blaine whipped his head around. Shutting out scents and sounds, he centered only on each of the nine faces, in turn. Dread shot through his belly, forcing him to purse his lips as if to contain it.
Nine sets of golden eyes stared back at him, unflinching.
He looked at their hands, eye level to him; they, too, did not budge.
“I think you’ve deduced why you’ve been called in, Chief Investigator,” The Solblaine’s voice cut through Blaine’s dread, centering his son’s attention up to the high dais. Blaine re-focused on his father’s face. It was a mirror image of his own. As a first born of the Patriarch, he looked as much like his father as any of his brothers, though he did have his mother’s blue eyes.
“Where is the monster?” Blaine asked, his voice rising in accusation, loathing seeped out a bubbling tide of rage.
“Ysbal Fortier has escaped.”
“How is that even possible?”
“One of his clan, we suspect, has freed him.”
“But… how?” Blaine flattened his lips. While his nostrils flared in anger, and his back stiffened, the hairs on his arms rose in anticipation of what was to come. Blaine glowered at the assembled men on the high white dais. “Is that what you want me to find out? Who set him free?”