by Kresley Cole
"And Lucia?"
"She's stayed alive this long. So I'm counting on her to live one thousand years and four weeks. If I can get everyone to safety, will you give us a shot?"
"What about the cur--"
"Don't answer now," he interrupted, his tone curt. That curse talk maddened him. He felt with a certainty deep down in his bones that he had a future with her. He'd be damned if they'd argue over something that he knew didn't apply to them. "Just think about it."
As Regin and Chase made their way back to meet the others, she studied him under her lashes.
Before, he'd been intriguing to her, attractive, even sexy. This morning, he was devastating.
His wet hair whipped over those lean cheeks. His camo pants clung to his sculpted legs and ass, until her claws curled painfully. Had his steely-eyed gaze always been so breathtaking?
Their activities last night had certainly agreed with the man. Chase seemed to have grown overnight--and shed a couple of decades' worth of tension. The stiffness in his back and neck was absent. Now that his lips weren't pressed into a grim line, she could see his even, white teeth, making her fantasize about what his smile would look like.
She doubted even Chase knew. The man didn't have a single laugh line anywhere on his face, not even a hint of one.
As they neared the others, she asked, "Don't you want your sweater?"
His expression darkened. "Do you want me to wear it?"
She frowned. "I don't care either way."
He smoothed a braid from her face. "Then I'd rather it keep you warm."
When they rejoined the group, almost as one, their gazes locked on his bare, scarred chest.
Brandr looked troubled but sympathetic. Thad gaped, while Natalya winced. Lothaire didn't bother hiding his derision.
Chase jammed his shoulders back, chin raised, and her heart gave a pang. Beautiful Aidan had never had to back down before anyone, had never been embarrassed a day in his life.
But maybe Chase deserved this scrutiny and more from the people he'd hurt. Walk away from him. Let him feel this alone.
Yet her hand decided to reach for Chase's, and her stupid fingers felt the need to lace with his.
The look he gave her as he tightened his grasp was one she'd never seen from him before.
Tenderness.
Brandr broke the silence. "Come on, then, let's get moving. We need to cover a lot of ground today."
As the others set off, she tried to make light of the situation. Because Chase was clutching her hand--like a lifeline. "Did the big bad Blademan just have a funny feeling in his chest?"
His gaze pinned hers, and he rasped one word. "Aye."
FORTY-EIGHT
What a difference a day can make, Declan thought as the six of them climbed a mountain trail.
In that short time, he'd gone from the lowest low to the highest high.
Yes, they were on the run for their lives, beleaguered by a squall, but he felt a hundred pounds lighter. For the last several hours, he'd led Regin through gusting winds and biting rain, blocking both for her. And each time he'd glanced over his shoulder to check on her, her eyes had flickered--with definite interest.
Chest swelled with pride, he realized he might have a shot at more.
When the group took a break before a particularly steep ascent, he squired her back the way they'd come. Out of sight of the others, he leaned down to kiss her damp neck. The lass let him. "Been needin' to do that since we left the stream." He nuzzled her ear. "Have you thought about my offer?"
She pulled back. "Offer? It sounded more like a decree. So, in this imaginary world, where we're a couple and all my allies are safe and sound--and there is no curse that's about to kill you--what do we do with our time?"
"You wanted to ally before. We could be partners, split bounties. I'd still get to hunt Neos and Cerunnos. Slay some Horde vampires, right?"
"You'd let me go into battle with you? Not afraid I'd get hurt?"
"I've seen you fight. I pity anything that crosses you. You're the most capable female I've ever known. Besides, I'd never let you be hurt."
"Uh-huh. And didn't you tell me that we'd find a place to put down roots? Be informed that I've already got one. Lucia and I have always planned to live in adjacent houses on some seashore. How would you like a Valkyrie for a neighbor?"
"You will no' scare me away so easily as that. For more of what you gave me at the stream, I'll reside in Val Hall's attic." He leaned in to murmur, "I now ken the appeal of your little claws. I've got your marks across my arse."
"That a problem?"
"I'll be ireful if I go a day without them," he said gravely. "Besides, a seaside home sounds about right. I told you I like the mountains--and the shore. I grew up on the Irish coast, you know."
"And how would you be with my family?"
"Scarce." At her raised chin, he said, "I can manage with them. And I already have an in with your sister Nix. She sent me a message a week ago."
"What? How?"
"I'd bugged your car. She sent me a message through the damn bug."
"What'd she say?"
"That I should question Lothaire, and that she'd see me soon."
Regin had been sensing a Valkyrie presence for two days now. Was it Nix on the island? "And?"
"And a bunch of other gibberish."
"Nix doesn't speak gibberish. Everything she says is for a reason."
"She told me my middle name would be regret." Chase held her gaze. "Your sister was right. I'm goin' to spend the rest of my life makin' everything up to you."
"Whoa, Chase, you're acting like I'm a done deal. And I'm the furthest thing from it."
"You've given me your terms, and I'm goin' to prevail."
"Let me know when you puzzle out how to get around a thousand-year-old curse. I'll be curious to see."
He opened his mouth to reply, but Brandr called out, "Hey, Chase, we need to decide on the best way up. Preferably taking the path less mined with unexploded incendiaries."
"Aye, then." To her, Chase said, "We'll continue this discussion later." He took her hand, leading her back. After chucking her under the chin, he jogged off to confer with Brandr.
Natalya joined her directly. "I've been waiting to talk for hours. But I didn't want to interrupt Chase--as he seized on any opportunity to touch you. Assisting a Valkyrie over a downed sapling? How romantic."
"What'd you want to talk about?"
"Just to commend you on your revenge last night. It must have been fiendish. Of course, I can only imagine since there wasn't a mark on Chase this morning, only residual bliss."
"He heals fast! I whaled on his face. Must've been thirty hits."
Natalya's lips quirked. "You're glowing like a Lite-Brite."
"Shut it, fairy."
"I don't know what kind of upskirt mojo you've got going on, but that man is different."
Regin gazed over at him as he pointed out something to Brandr. Chase's demeanor was still gruff, but the strain around his eyes was diminished.
He'd grudgingly accepted his sweater back--it was far too big for her to climb in--but he'd rolled up his sleeves, displaying his brawny arms. The flat scars over his skin looked almost like tribal tattoos.
And damn, if he didn't look bigger every hour. Maybe the drugs he'd taken had kept the berserker in him in check?
Natalya gave a little wave at Thad. The kid sat under a rock overhang, trying to talk to Lothaire, but the vampire didn't look lucid. "So now that you've sampled Chase," she said in a low tone, "are you going to keep him?"
"I can't forget about the curse," Regin said firmly. Because she was tempted to do just that. To take that wicked Irishman behind a rock and have her way with him.
"How does he compare to the original Aidan?"
"They're similar in a lot of ways." And those similarities kept tugging on her heartstrings, making her soften toward him. But there were definite differences.
Whereas Chase seemed comfortable wi
th the idea of her fighting, Aidan probably would never have allowed her to go into battle.
Aidan had put her on a pedestal, awed that he was with a Valkyrie.
Chase wanted her to be his ... friend.
Seeing him with Brandr like this--both of them so tall, nodding in agreement over whatever they were discussing--brought back so many memories. Just as before, she could tell there would be a bond between the two men.
But Chase won't have enough time to see it grow.
FORTY-NINE
"So I guess one of my biological folks was a vamp?" Thad asked Regin and Natalya on their fifth day of trekking.
As Chase and Brandr walked behind them in easy conversation, Regin and Natalya hosted day two of their vampire crash course. They'd started it yesterday, mainly to counteract all the things "Mr. Lothaire" had been telling Thad:
"You can teach yourself to half-teleport, becoming as good as invisible to spy on people... Valkyrie blood tastes ambrosial. ... Stealing money from humans is rewarding both financially and spiritually. ... Females crave being bitten--they lie if they deny it. ..."
Regin peered around for the vampire, her hand unconsciously falling on the schwag sword she wore at her hip. Lothaire was MIA yet again. He often went off by himself.
Natalya told Thad, "Most likely your dad was. Vampire females are as good as extinct."
Thad was aghast. "No females?"
Natalya patted his shoulder. "You can date other species, Tiger. Don't you worry. I've already thought of some ladies to relieve you of your big V. One's a nymph--"
"Over my dead body," Regin said. "Two-bit hookers, every one of them."
Thad scratched his head. "Mr. Lothaire said every male needed a purring nymph or two chained to the foot of his bed. As pets."
Natalya gasped. "All right, lad, no more talking to Lothaire."
Though Regin was strong enough to confront that vampire over his crimes against the Valkyrie, unfortunately, Lothaire had come in handy.
If their crew of six passed groups of evil demons, he always appeared in time to defuse the situation. The demons fawned over him like he was Elvis or something, saving them a fight--and saving them time.
They were already cutting it close to get to the boat. For the last five days, they'd pushed hard through the mountains, but the never-ending storms and wind made for slow going. And on the second day out, they'd spotted throngs of Wendigos teeming in the forests below, so their crew had clung as high as possible to the rocky peaks, taking extra time.
All the while, Regin had continued to sense another Valkyrie, yet couldn't pinpoint it enough to go searching. She'd asked Chase about it, but he'd sworn no other Valkyrie had been in the facility.
"Nat, are my fangs looking any bigger?" Thad murmured, his tone dire. "Be honest."
As Natalya oohed and aahed over his "manly" fangs, Regin only half-listened, glancing over her shoulder at Chase. Earlier, he'd tried to draw her into conversation, but she'd been too out of sorts. Now she was lost in her own thoughts, about to introspect like a son of a bitch.
She feared she might be a jot more than infatuated with this reincarnation. Like on her way toward falling-off-a-skyscraper-onto-your-face in love with him.
Which she could never allow.
But gods, that man appealed to her in so many ways. Regin liked that he was complicated, and that he was trying. She admired that he'd overcome so much and was striving to be a better man.
Other males might feel sorry for themselves or rail against fate. Not Chase. He just picked himself up again and again.
For each of the last four nights, the two of them had gone off by themselves. He'd never tried to kiss her mouth or make love to her--as if he knew she'd pull the plug on their arrangement. After they'd slaked the worst of their need, they talked into the morning, with her curled against his chest. He'd pet her hair while she traced his scars, wishing she could take away the pain that had rendered them.
Last night, he'd finally told her of the days and nights he'd been a captive of the Neoptera. Though his tone had been brusque--as if he were relating a military report--he'd physically reacted to the memory. Sweat had dotted his upper lip and brow, his eyes lit with misery.
Afterward, when he'd eventually passed into a fitful sleep, she'd lain awake, dazed, wondering how he could possibly have endured that pain.
And to what end? Why would he survive so much just to have his life ended now?
Though he slept little, when he did he continued to dream about his past lives. One night, he'd experienced the battle when Gabriel had captured Regin's ship. Another night, he'd relived the Spaniard's wicked bed play with her. She'd woken to Chase's fingers plunging deep inside her as he stroked himself in time.
His intense gaze had swept from his busy fingers to her mouth. When he'd wet his own lips, she'd quickly said, "No kissing."
"I can wait you out, Valkyrie," he'd rasped. "Now that my prize is in sight. ..."
Each dream sent her panic escalating. Soon he would remember all, and then Aidan would rise to the fore, taking over.
Declan Chase, the man, would be no more, his life just a memory, his body soon to perish.
The cycle continued, the curse grinding on.
"I need your help," Declan muttered to Brandr as Regin climbed ahead with Thad and Natalya.
Brandr raised his brows. "You know that's what I'm here for."
Declan did know that. The man was proving to be a staunch ally. Still Declan had difficulty asking others for assistance. "How do I talk Regin past that curse?"
Brandr said, "You don't, if you want to stay alive."
He ground his teeth in frustration. In his mind, the rescue from the island was as good as done. All her conditions could still be met. The only thing that stood in their way was this curse.
Declan intended to eliminate anything in their way, to do whatever it took to claim her as his own. The last few days with her had been amazing. Life had never been so bloody easy for him. He didn't have to disguise his accent with her, didn't have to hide his body. He felt no strain.
He'd never imagined that a woman could fit him so well. He liked the way she thought, liked that she said outrageous things and threw mud in his face. Regin had flavor.
His lass was the opposite of soulless.
They'd talked deep into the night, getting to know each other better. She'd confided her secret fear--ghosts--and her addiction to video games. And she was droll. Though he was out of practice laughing, his lips had curled when she'd itemized the things she'd made demons eat.
The one subject she refused to talk about? The distant past. She feared him remembering more, feared triggering that damned curse. "What do you suggest then, Brandr? Because I'm no' givin' her up."
"As if you could."
"No, I'm done for. Would be happily so if I could get her to feel the same way."
"Have you considered trying to become immortal?"
Three weeks ago, Declan would've been insulted by this question. Now it made him regret that he couldn't be. "You think I'd immortalize this battered body?" He waved his hand to indicate his chest. "Besides, I know the risks inherent in turnin'. I just want a few decades with the lass."
"You won't get it. If you sleep with Regin, you'll die. Period. The only chance you have is to become an immortal before you claim her."
"And how would I do that? You know the transformation is no' foolproof." The catalyst to become another species was death--and it didn't always work.
Demons turned only a fraction. The Lykae had better odds, but it often took a newly transformed werewolf decades to control his inner beast--if it could be tamed at all. "Can you transform another into an immortal berserker?"
"I have no idea, but if I had to say, I'd go with no. I've never heard of it happening. The ones with most success at this are the vampires. Which would never work."
"Aye, I despise them, could never become one."
Brandr lowered his voice. "And we know how
Regin feels about them."
"She hates them for killing her man."
"Regin hated them long before that. Her mother's entire race was exterminated by vampires."
Declan ran his hand over his face. "I did no' know that."
"And if you did become a vampire, her Valkyrie blood would be irresistible to you. There's no way she could spend eternity as a host to one of them, not even for you. Face it, Chase, your only hope is to abstain with her."
Declan caught Regin glancing over her shoulder at him with silvery eyes. "Then I've no chance in hell," he said dryly. "But I'm no' convinced of this, Brandr. I'm strong--stronger than I've ever been. I'll no' go out so easily, now that I've something to live for."
"I wish it were that simple. Listen, Regin has alliances with the witches. They might be able to help you--if you don't claim Regin before we reach New Orleans."
"The witches will do no favors for me."
"We can figure something out. But only if you can wait ..." Brandr trailed off as Lothaire approached them. "What do you want, leech?"
He rubbed his tongue on his fang. "Chase's end of the bargain."
FIFTY
"Come, don't be shy, Magister," the vampire murmured, his eyes riveted to Declan's neck. "I grow peckish."
"Don't bloody call me that!" He gazed out past a craggy rock face, back down the trail where the others awaited them. Brandr was supposed to tell Regin that they'd gone to scout ahead, but Declan was uneasy.
And it sat ill with him to sneak around like this, to cede his blood so shamefully. "You aren't even supposed to drink this often," Declan said. "Older vampires can go for weeks. Do you want more of my memories?"
"Surely the rest can't be worse?"
When Declan only raised his brows, Lothaire said, "In any case, I lost blood fighting the Wendigos and need to refill my coffers."
Declan gritted his teeth, rolling up a sleeve. How far I've fallen. Allowing himself to be drunk.
But he had no choice. If he'd had any lingering doubts that he was a member of the Lore, they'd been extinguished; Declan felt compelled by the vow he'd made.
"It'll go faster through the neck," Lothaire said. "And I know you want to be quick. Don't want your female to catch you in flagrante dentate, do you?"
"Forget it."
"I seem to recall that your vow stipulated whenever and however I chose to drink you."