by Jackie Ivie
Enthralling.
“You are very tall.”
Her mind felt fogged. He called her very tall? Not really. She was a fraction of an inch under six feet. It wasn’t that abnormal. She’d seen many taller women. She could find them easily if she went looking for shoes. They usually hovered around the size 10 – and up – area.
“Physically fit.”
So she worked out a little. He found that worth commenting over?
“You are not Scandinavian descent, are you? Hmm. Your hair is more...an ash brown shade. Nor are your eyes blue. Interesting.”
He called her hair ash brown? She’d always considered it dirty blond...and why on earth should that matter? The fog grew denser. Almost physical. It was difficult to see clearly through it.
“You are a beautiful woman, Miss Bowker. Very beautiful.”
A swell of warmth loomed through her chest at his words, easing the restriction on her lungs. Stephanie managed to pull in a gasp.
“I don’t believe I could have chosen better.”
Chosen...? He was listing traits as if looking over prime stock. She needed to make sense of what he said. Deplore it. Strenuously berate him. And she would have if her brain and mouth would cooperate.
He answered as if she spoke aloud. “I have decided to answer your questions, my dear. But not here. And not now. You are about to begin a journey. A rather unbelievable one. You need to suspend reality. And judgment. And someday...I believe you will thank me for it.”
It got darker. Her limbs were useless. Paralyzed. Any thought process joined in. She was surrounded by an impression of amazing warmth. Protective. Safe. It enshrouded her. They were moving next, the sensation akin to floating on a sun-dappled pool, surrounded by luxury.
This was really insane.
The foggy feeling swelled to consuming level. And then she felt...nothing.
~ ~ ~
“Whoa.”
Athlerod stopped at the top of the steps. Ethelstone bumped into him with a force that sent him back a step. The ladder rattled.
“What is it?”
“Uh...” Athlerod replied unhelpfully.
“Well? Move in already, and let me see!”
“Oh. Have some...patience, brother.”
Athlerod snickered as he said it. His brother was chuckling at him?
“Move, you haestpeis!”
Ethelstone shoved. Athlerod’s head struck the doorframe with a thud. He spun, and shoved back and Ethelstone fell. He ripped the railing of the steps loose, but it didn’t do much to slow his landing. He smacked onto his back on concrete, creating cracks that radiated outward through the cement. It didn’t help that Athlerod laughed at him, either. Ethelstone was on his feet the next moment and leaping. He snagged his brother about the belly with an arm. The motion propelled them both. They slammed into the jet interior. The fuselage shuddered with the impact. Something fell in the galley area with a clatter. Ethelstone didn’t waste a second. He wrestled for the top position, and the advantage, grunting as if it was an exertion. Then he lifted his head.
And lost his ability to do anything other than gape.
The world ground to a halt, even his need to best his brother. Athlerod easily grappled to the upper position, and then straddled him. Ethelstone didn’t care. He lay on his belly and stared. And when that wasn’t sufficient, he pushed upward to get a better view. The move lifted Athlerod. His brother didn’t help. He didn’t take any of his weight off Ethelstone. It didn’t matter. Nothing was of any consequence except—
“Fine. You win, Ethel. It’s a woman,” Athlerod announced.
A woman?
Athlerod needed better descriptive skills. There wasn’t a woman sitting in a captain’s chair facing them. It was a goddess. A real goddess. She was perched on a chair as if considering lesser beings. She sat motionless. Serene. Completely unruffled at their entrance. Her eyes were open and staring. He couldn’t tell what color they were. The woman was truly beautiful...except even that word fell short. If there was a more descriptive one, he’d use it. She had incredibly long shapely legs, too, skimmed by skinny jeans. Long fingers, too. He glanced at how elegant they looked resting atop the arms of the chair.
The door closed automatically behind them. A hissing sound accompanied the sealing. And then the intercom buzzed on. And the familiar voice of a newly created vampire, the pilot, Vaughn.
“Well! Well. Sounds like I have you both tonight! Glad to hear you’ve finally arrived...and with your usual debonair élan. Welcome boys! Strap yourselves into a seat for take-off already. Or...whatever. But no fighting. No damage. Got it?”
“Vaughn?”
Athlerod answered. Ethelstone hadn’t moved his eyes from the woman.
“In the undead flesh.”
“You can fly? Already? It’s not too soon to be out?”
“We’re going to Iceland. It’s the dark season up there. We should be fine. And...these cockpits are equipped with UV-blocking glass. Total UV blocking. I have as much chance of catching a sunbeam up here as I have of...well. Stow it. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us. We don’t have time for chitchat. You lads ready?”
The engines purred loudly. The cabin shuddered and began moving. Athlerod sighed and stood up, releasing him. Ethelstone took a bit longer to stand. He didn’t take his eyes off the woman as he gained his feet. Something was really weird. He couldn’t quite place it. It couldn’t be her beauty. They’d accompanied some of the most gorgeous assassins on many occasions. Angelique. Reika.
This was different.
And he didn’t know why.
“Hey, Ethel. You’re staring.”
“Do you think she can hear us?”
“No. I think she looks enthralled. And you just let me call you Ethel. That’s twice now.”
“Oh. Well...don’t do it again,” Ethelstone replied automatically. Athlerod was right. She did look like she was in a trance. That was even weirder.
“Why not? It’s your name.”
“Stop it.”
“You have a girl’s name. Ha. Ha. Ethel.”
“Fine. You want to call names? You need to remember yours is Athle.”
“Now, wait. That makes me sound like an asshole.”
“I don’t see the problem.” Ethelstone couldn’t prevent the snicker.
“Pokker.”
“Rasshole.” The name-calling was automatic. He wasn’t really paying attention. There was something truly odd about the situation. Athlerod was obtuse. Or he didn’t sense it. A vibration of some kind was in the air, one that didn’t come from the jet’s engines.
“Wait! I’ve got it. We can shorten names and still be skoruligr. Our manliness stays intact. So. Listen! You can call me Rod. And I will call you Stone. That sounds much better. You agree?”
“I wonder who she is.”
“What? Who cares? It’s not like we haven’t seen women before.”
Ethelstone had gained his feet, and swayed in place. He tensed both leg muscles to stay in one position as the plane gained speed for the take-off. He watched the woman’s body shift slightly as she rocked with the plane’s movement. She was belted into place. A shoulder strap kept her torso upright. A lock of her hair slid forward on her shoulder. The plane slanted. Ethelstone skidded forward but kept from falling. Athlerod wasn’t as lucky. He tumbled headfirst into a chair opposite the woman. It should have amused. Ethelstone should be hooting with laughter. His expression probably mirrored his brother’s as Athlerod gained his seating and looked over at him.
For once, Athlerod looked completely serious. And then one of his cell phones blasted out. That was one difference between them. Ethelstone was the muted one. Where he used a slight buzz, Athlerod had his phones cued to the sound of horns. A plethora of Viking horns. Announcing a raid.
“Ooh. Listen to that. I have a call this time. Me. Not you.”
The sound of horns blasted the cabin again. The woman didn’t move. She hadn’t jumped at the sound. Ethelstone
took a step nearer. Waved a hand before her face. Her focus didn’t shift. If this was a thrall, it was a severe one.
The phone went off yet again.
“Would you answer that already?” Ethelstone asked.
“I was going to. I was just watching you.”
“Me?”
“You’re acting really strange. You know that? Hello?”
Ethelstone swallowed. A tingling sensation accompanied it. His eyes widened, and he turned his head away to disguise it. And then he stiffened. He and Athlerod had been inseparable from birth. They’d been shipwrecked together. Almost died, and been changed into vampires, one-after-the-other. His brother had been at his side for over a thousand years now. He’d never hidden anything from him.
Until now.
“Ja. This is Athlerod. Where am I? Aboard the jet. Heading to Reykjavik. Yes. He is here, too.”
“Hey Ethel. I mean, Stone. He wants to talk to you.”
Ethelstone took the phone without looking. It felt smooth and hard in his palm. He felt it! Alarm bells started ringing through his skull. Then they spread into his ears. That was going to be difficult to hear through. And worse. There was a distinct tingling feeling happening throughout his arms now.
It was Akron on the line. He had the deepest bass voice in the league. It conquered the bell sound easily. “Ethelstone?’
“Ja.”
“Why are you both aboard that jet?”
“The kid gave us instruction. I heard it. He speaks for you. Or...has that changed?”
“Oh. He definitely speaks for me. But he obviously needs to speak faster. Or use smaller words with some associates.”
“We’re not supposed to be going to Iceland?”
“I’ll be succinct. You had the assignment to Iceland. Your brother has a different one entirely.”
“You are separating us?”
“What? No!”
Athlerod frantically waved and shook his head from Ethelstone’s side. He lifted a hand to shush him.
“Your passenger’s name is Stephanie Bowker,” Akron continued. “She is a reporter. She is investigating vampires. I would like you to handle it.”
“Eliminate?” Ethelstone asked.
“No. You are to answer whatever questions she has without compromising the league. Keep her...occupied. Can you handle that?”
“Ja.”
“Good. And one more thing. A large one. She is to come to no harm.”
The last words throbbed with threat. Ethelstone cleared his throat before answering. That was another new sensation. He consciously lowered his tone, nearly matching Akron’s.
“Never. You have my word, Sir.”
“You’ll guarantee her safety?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Even from your brother?”
Ethelstone set his jaw and clenched. Hard. Ache shot through his neck. It nearly reached his heart. And then that muscle quivered. And he felt that, too.
“Yes,” he answered.
“Excellent. I’ll contact you both when you land. Have a nice flight. I do not know if she’ll stay enthralled the entire flight. But I can hope.”
CHAPTER THREE
Stephanie had never had such a difficult time waking before. She’d experienced some weird sleep instances. She’d been a sleepwalker as a child. She’d awakened in all kinds of places. Once, she’d ended up in an adjoining neighborhood. An exclusive one. With a golf course. Sand traps. Ponds. Golf balls that had just been sent rocketing off their tees. And that was before factoring in the real hazards – gossipy inhabitants and legal entanglements. She’d somehow scooted beneath an electrified security fence and been found wandering the fairway, completely unaware of her surroundings. After that, her parents had gotten desperate. She’d been strapped into her bed many times. Across the hips and shoulders. She’d hated it. It felt—
Just like now.
It was like she’d been jettisoned back to an unhappy childhood memory. Except back then upon waking, her senses returned a lot quicker than this. This was akin to being numbed, and it affected her entire body. She tried blinking. Her eyelids took a moment but responded. That was a good sign, although she couldn’t see very well, as if she were driving through fog. At night. Just creeping along, trying to make out surroundings. Her hearing was off, too. She could make out her own heartbeat. It was followed by the sound of each breath. Both had an odd nuance. As if there was an echo. She concentrated to hear more. Caught a rumbling type of vibration. It was interspersed occasionally with low-toned voices.
Male voices.
She really needed to get a grip here. And on something besides...was this an armrest she held to? Stephanie sent the command for her fingers to tighten on the structure. Nothing much happened. If she concentrated, she could barely make out a cool, smooth texture beneath each finger. And her sense of smell was way out of whack. The vague aromatic impression of jet fuel was combined with a decidedly masculine scent. She couldn’t place it, but it was entirely pleasant. Woodsy oak. Warmed amber. Vanilla. Caramel. She sniffed appreciatively. Heard another bit of male banter. Well. Whoever was speaking, they wore great-smelling cologne.
“I would not select her. Not even if we were forced to raid a Christian settlement. Far inland. In deepest Gaul.”
“I would.”
“What? With the choice of women available? I’ve seen the kind of women you fancy. They had a lot more...hmm. What is a good phrase? Curves? Yes. That is it. You like women with big breasts. Wide hips. For childbearing. I know it. I was there. Remember?”
“That was then.”
“Are you blind? I mean, look at her. She is pretty, yes, but she doesn’t even have much in the way of boobs.”
“Stop it, Athlerod.”
“My name is Rod now. Remember? Geez. You are so dense. I truly believe my real brother was switched at birth and replaced with you. A fenrir.”
“I said stop it.”
“You going to make me?”
There was a heavy sigh. The fog about her vision was clearing. Just a little. If she squinted, she could make out the features of what could be a wall. It had little lights along the top of it, shedding illumination on what looked like a gentle curve. As if the wall bulged out for some reason. It resembled an airplane, only there weren’t any windows. There should be. There were indentations that should be windows, only on this wall, they hadn’t been cut out or installed.
A shadow flashed across the wall. A large one. Indistinct. Indefinable. And the moment she saw it, it was gone.
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Really? Why not?”
“Vaughn warned us. No fighting. You heard him.”
“And since when did that stop us?”
“Right now.”
“Oh, yeah? Pokker!”
There was a grunting sound. A sense of movement. Another shadow loomed, growing to encompass the entire wall before disappearing again. Stephanie sent the order to her neck to turn. So she could see. And it almost worked.
Almost.
A loud breaking noise came from somewhere nearby. Followed by a heavy thud. Another. A visible ripple went through the wall she watched, followed by an ominous-looking crack. It snagged along the bottoms of the window indentations before moving through the framework and disappearing behind her. Then she heard a distinct beep sound, followed by an announcement through an intercom system.
“Hey! You guys want to knock it off back there? We’ll be there in about twenty minutes. You really don’t want trouble now, do you?”
“Got it...handled...Vaughn.”
The answer was broken by grunting sounds.
“Right. I’ll try and make it fifteen minutes. Geez. Icelanders.”
Icelanders? Did she hear that correctly?
“You are a moron, Athle!”
“It’s Rod! I told you!”
“Stop this! You heard him. Not...while we’re in...the air!”
In the air?
Realization
obliterated the last vestige of anything resembling fuzziness. Stephanie yanked with her shoulders and somehow got her head to turn. And then she just stared. Her eyes went wide. Her jaw dropped. There were two behemoths locked in what looked like mortal combat. One was astride the other, had an uprooted chair, and was smashing it into the bottom one’s chest. That one had his legs hooked around the other’s throat and was using the grip to push backward. They were wearing what looked like leather. Some fur. And they weren’t wearing it very modestly. Stephanie had never seen such massive arms. Or legs. The limbs about the chair-wielder’s throat had enough hard muscle to win a bodybuilding competition. While his biceps looked capable of bench-pressing a car.
The one with the chair looked over in her direction. Winked. He sat up and tossed the chair over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing. Stephanie watched it glance off the opposite wall, making a large dent in that side of the cabin. Then he smacked a fist into his opponent’s chest. All, while enduring a grip about his neck that should have broken it.
“Hey, Stone. Looks like your lady has awakened.”
“What?”
“The woman. You know. The one we’re accompanying.”
Their fighting stopped. Instantaneously. The next second, one was on his knees, shoving a mass of hair off his forehead, while the other spun, got into the same position, and did the exact same thing. And—
Oh. Holy hell.
She was looking at the Norse god, Thor.
No.
She was facing two Thors.
Two. Only nobody had a big-ass hammer. They had swords in scabbards at their backs. She didn’t know how they could have wrestled with that kind of weaponry or how she could have missed seeing it earlier. She was usually dead-on accurate with observations. The one on her left lumbered to his feet and spoke.
“Offhand, I would say she does not look impressed with us.”
“Shut up, Athle.”
She hadn’t seen it, but the other guy had reached his feet, too. She didn’t know how. He was standing in a shadowed area, placing a lot of him in the darkness. He regarded her with his eyes slightly narrowed. His upper lip lifted. He gave the appearance of being angered. By what? Her?