Hero's Curse

by Jack J. Lee

  I wanted to scream. It had been a complete fuck of a day. The last thing I needed was to be told I didn’t have a chance—that all my efforts were useless. I wondered how hard it would be to obtain a nuclear weapon; maybe Drew could get me one. Even if I could get one, how the hell was I going to survive setting one off?”

  “Vic.” B almost sounded sympathetic.

  “Yeah. What?”

  “Idunn’s apples are just a possibility. Try not to stress about shit you can’t do anything about.” I sensed him leave the van.

  For the rest of the trip there was complete silence. We pulled in the Swenson’s driveway a little after 4 AM. Mina, Ben, Andi, and Tim looked beat but happy. As they unloaded the van, Andi was giggling and talking to Mina about how cool it was to have her own bike.

  Aidan, Tim, Ben and I carried the Jotunn down into the basement. We cocooned him in duct tape and all of Aidan’s platinum wire so that if he tried to struggle or escape, he’d slice himself to pieces.

  Once I was alone in my apartment, it was sheer luxury to finally take a shower. Mina promised me before we left for Salt Lake City that we’d talk. I hoped her definition of talking was the same as mine. I toweled myself off, got on my bed. I turned on my laptop and updated my journal. I passed out as soon as I finished.

  I woke, alert but disoriented, to the sound of the door to my room opening. I was naked on top of my bedcovers. “Azam-shay.”

  “Vic?” It was Mina. “Are you awake?”

  Relaxing, I sat up against the headboard while reaching over to turn on the reading light by my bed. My true love appeared out of the shadows wearing a short silk robe, loosely tied at her waist. As she came closer into the light, the deep open V of her robe outlined the curves of her breasts. I saw a hint of her panties at the apex of her slender, tanned legs as she walked toward me.

  “What are you doing in your motorcycle gear?” She asked, smiling. “Is it like sleeping in your Superman pajamas?” She sat next to me on the side of the bed then tapped my helmet. “Can you take this off so I can see you?” I sent it back to storage. I put my hands on her waist and loosened the knot of her belt. I felt her shiver at my touch. I didn’t look down as I untied her belt.

  Mina’s breath quickened, “I promised we’d talk.”

  I ran my hands lightly through her hair on either side of her face, smoothing her hair back over her shoulders. My hands slipped under the robe at her neck, and with my fingers, I pushed it off her shoulders and down her arms. She was wearing matching opalescent camisole and panties that shimmered in the direct light and became sheer in the shadows. Her veiled breasts were works of art. “I remember.”

  Mina’s voice was a whisper, “Are you tired?” She smiled seductively. “Am I distracting you?” She leaned forward and touched my leather jacket with a question in her eyes. I sent my Jacket away.

  “No. Yes.” It was her turn to look at me. I let my hands move up and down her sides then circled her breasts, lightly fondling and squeezing. I watched her pupils dilate as she licked her lips and visibly swallowed, leaning into my hands with a murmur of approval—wanting more. Her eyes were heavy lidded as she watched the path her hands were taking, touching my arms and shoulders, rubbing my biceps and lightly massaging across my chest. She used her nails, pressing hard, scraping down my stomach muscles to the zipper of my leather pants, then up again over my chest and nipples.

  Winding her arms around my neck while rubbing herself sinuously against me, she gently kissed my cheeks, my face. I wrapped her tightly in my arms. Our lips met softly until I licked her lips, opening her mouth with my tongue. Our kisses went hard, explosive. For an instant our souls touched. I knew she wanted me as much as I did her.

  I gripped her wrists and rolled her on the bed until I lay on top, her legs parting to cradle me. I kissed and licked her neck, blowing soft air across the moistness. Mina groaned, arching her back to rub her breasts and nipples against my chest, saying almost inaudibly, “Oh my God, keep doing that!” I slowly moved up, kissing her neck until I reached her earlobe and started sucking rhythmically. Holding me close, she shivered and moved against me, sighing my name in my ear on long groan.

  She ran her hands down my back stroking and massaging. She tugged at my leather pants. “Vic!”

  “Azam-shay.”

  She gripped me and pulled my naked body tighter against her, rubbing her heels up and down the backs of my legs. I brushed her nipple; she trembled and moaned. When I squeezed her nipple and bit down on her earlobe, she started moving her head from side to side, moaning louder and telling me I was driving her crazy.

  I felt Mina’s nails on my back as she bit my lower lip, then kissed me deeply, sucking on my tongue. When she spread her legs wider, I ignored her invitation and squeezed harder on her nipple and then tugged gently, then squeezing harder again while she moaned against my mouth. She broke our kiss and was thrashing against the covers, repeatedly saying my name, when I gently moved her hands aside and pulled her camisole off—throwing it across the room.

  I grabbed her wrists and pulled them over her head. I held her wrists immobile with one hand while biting and sucking on her nipples. She groaned her pleasure as she wrapped her legs around my waist, moving her hips up and down. With my free hand on her leg, I lightly ran my fingers up her inner thigh until I reached the edge of her panty. I allowed one finger, then another, to barely ease underneath. She moved against my fingers as I stroked her lightly without letting my fingers penetrate, my mouth still licking and kissing her breasts. Moaning loudly, straining to release her hands from my grip, she lifted her hips and begged for me to touch her deeper, to let her touch me. As I slowly pulled my fingers away, she twisted her body to try to follow them exclaiming fiercely, “Oh, you teasing bastard.” I released her wrists, sat back, and pulled her panties off in one motion.

  I abruptly got on my knees and put my hands under her ass and lifted her to my mouth. I devoured her until she came. She was still coming, screaming my name, when I lowered her to the bed and prepared to bury myself in her. As soon as the tip of my dick touched her, I became completely limp.

  GOD DAMMIT! I could not FUCKING believe I had completely forgotten about my sexual limitations. My groin was now completely numb.

  “Vic, what’s wrong?” Mina sat up on her elbows, eyes still glazed and unfocused, as she stared at me in surprise.

  Oh shit. I barely made it to the toilet in time. I was still on my knees, dry heaving, when she followed me into the bathroom. “Oh my God, you’re sick!” She handed me the towel off the bar. “Can I get you anything?

  “I’m not sick. I’m still new to the paladin thing. I forgot that I can’t have sex outside of marriage.” I wiped my face with the towel.

  Mina shook her head in astounded disbelief. “Seriously? You FORGOT this? You have got to be kidding me!”

  “I wish I was.” It wasn’t just my broken dick. The thought of some God damned heavenly bureaucrat watching me and Mina made me want to kill. The certainty that somewhere, B was laughing his ass off made me wish I HAD called Sanguinis, shoved the muzzle in his mouth, and taken the top of his head off

  I got up and went to the sink and washed my face. I rinsed my mouth out with mouthwash and spit it out. I was almost getting used to puking.

  “I don’t understand! Vic, are you sure you’re okay? I felt your penis…just collapse. Was it painful?”

  I couldn’t feel anything. It was not a happy situation. “It’s okay. I’m completely numb.”

  Mina hugged me from behind. Her warmth felt good. She snickered against my back, “I do believe, ‘It’s okay. I’m completely numb’ has got to be the worst line anyone has ever said after interrupted sex.” She snuggled against me, wriggling her naked body to fit tighter against me and giggled, “I just feel bad; you didn’t get a chance to have as much fun as me. You’re not going to be numb forever, right?”

  I turned to face her. When she saw my face, her smile became a look of concern.

/>   My true love was smart enough to realize I didn’t find my limp dick funny, but she was right, ‘I’m completely numb’ was an awful line. Fortunately, I felt pins and needles in my groin. It was a miserable sensation but it told me I wouldn’t be numb forever. It was amazing how scary it had been to lose the feeling in my dangly bits.

  Every ounce of exhaustion I had forgotten when Mina walked into my room dropped on me like a ton of bricks. “It’s going to be okay. Let’s go to sleep.” My true love also understood I wasn’t in the mood for laughs and tickles. She quietly followed me to my bed. I pulled back the disheveled bedcovers and turned off the light. I lay down on my back, holding out my arm.

  Mina slid in next to me, laying on her side, and rested her head on my chest with her hand splayed on my stomach. I encircled her with my arms. “Is your feeling back?”

  “Yes.”

  “I love you, Victor Paladin.”

  Despite my exhaustion, frustration, and anger, my reply was easy, “I love you, Mina Swenson.”

  Chapter 26: The Proposal

  When I woke, the sun was high. Mina wasn’t snoring. She had a slight hint of a smile on her face. I had to figure out a way to get some privacy from the heavenly host. Just thinking about someone else watching us last night made my temperature rise.

  I listened to the household. Aidan and Tim were up, Ben and Andi weren’t.

  I grabbed some clothes, and as quietly as possible got ready in the bathroom. I knew I should wait for her to wake up. Mina and I had so much to talk about. I had so much to explain.

  In the last four days, I’d spent more time interacting with others than I had in the entire previous year. I not only enjoyed being alone, I needed solitude. There was no doubt I loved Mina but I also had to get my head straight before talking seriously with her, and to do that I needed some alone time.

  I got out of the house without anyone noticing. Tim and Aidan were busy downstairs. I could hear them working on the Jotunn’s restraints. I walked a couple blocks away from the house and sent a text message to Drew to meet me at the Sugar House Barnes and Noble.

  “Harley.” My bike appeared behind me. It took a few minutes to get to the bookstore. I had gotten some coffee and a bunch of books on Norse mythology when I got a text message back letting me know he’d meet me in two hours.

  I have a system when I’m trying to learn a new subject quickly. Every discipline and subject has its own language. If I go through the tedium of learning the vocabulary of a new subject, it’s a lot easier to grasp the concepts and nuances of that subject. To accomplish this, I skim through each book until I find a word whose meaning I don’t know and then memorize the definition of that word. It’s brutally boring to go through a bunch of books and look up new words. But if I invest the time to do this, I learn which book is the best of the bunch and when I finally actually read that book, I truly understand and retain the information.

  I memorized the names of nine worlds of Norse Mythology, Asgard, home of the Norse gods, Vanaheim, home of the Vanir, Alfheim, the home of the Light Elves, Jotunheim, the home of giants and trolls, Svartalfheim, the home of the Dark Elves, Nidavellir, the home of Dwarves, and finally, Midgard or Earth.

  I looked up the name of every known magical weapon in Norse mythology. Gungnir was Odin’s magical spear that never missed and always killed its mark. Mjolnir was Thor’s hammer that could knock down mountains and always returned to his hand. Thor also had a magic belt called Megingjord that increased his strength. There were a couple other magic swords, Dainsleif, Hofund, and Laevateinn owned by various other gods.

  Zen monks will focus on a dripping faucet or repeat the same nonsense koan over and over to escape their conscious minds. Studying like this helped me do the same. For a time, I forgot about Mina, Jotunn, and Joey and lost myself in pure research. It was what my mind needed.

  I was in the process of researching Idunn and her apples when Drew walked in. I had last seen him eight years ago. His head was shaved and he was a little thicker around the middle, but he was still mostly muscle; six one and about two hundred pounds. At fifty-one, he was past his prime but he was still extremely dangerous. My new senses revealed that Drew had some angel genes, and that he had roughly half the magical potential Tim did.

  I watched his intense blue eyes pass over me and then return. His brows lifted in surprise. He walked up to my table and sat down. “Very pretty. I never thought you’d be the type for cosmetic surgery.”

  “I’m not.”

  He grinned, “So you found the fountain of youth?”

  My face was expressionless when I answered, “Kind of.”

  He lost his grin. “You’re serious.”

  Human beings are herd animals. Drew never had the herd scent. He was always noticeably different. Nowadays, he would have been diagnosed as having ADD and Asperger’s Syndrome. Back at the orphanage, he was just an odd duck with no social skills who couldn’t be bothered to finish any assignment or task he was given.

  Drew is four years older than me, and when you’re a kid that’s a huge age difference. We didn’t become friends until we killed a man together; you could say it was a bonding experience. They never found the body, but the nuns and police were suspicious. Seventeen-year-old Drew was encouraged to join the military. They couldn’t do anything to me because I was only thirteen, but then I crippled an adult who touched me—that got me a one way ticket to juvie.

  Say ‘Attention Deficit Disorder’ and most people think of a hyperactive kid bouncing off the walls. This wasn’t Drew; he had the opposite problem. He was intelligent and coordinated, but couldn’t focus long enough to take full advantage of either trait.

  The Army changed that. Since WWII, the US military has been giving sleep deprived soldiers stimulants. Amphetamines changed Drew’s life: for the first time, he was able to focus and he discovered something he wanted to focus on.

  A bullet in flight corkscrews through the air. Distance, gravity, muzzle velocity, bullet weight and shape, air density, and wind all affect a bullet’s trajectory. There are people who instinctively understand this—Drew wasn’t one of them. He devoted himself to studying ballistics with a single-minded intensity, and spent thousands of hours practicing on the range. He became extremely good at killing things from far away. Once he’d learned everything the army could teach him, he went into business for himself as an independent contractor.

  In juvie, I learned how to be an enforcer, steal identities, fence goods, and launder money. Every once in a while, even loners need someone they can trust, so we kept in touch. If the nuns could see us now, they’d probably say we’d never overcome our socialization issues—they would be right.

  “Do you want to see a troll?”

  He mulled over my question. There was no humor in his voice—only interest—when he asked, “The cute-ugly kind with multicolored hair, or the ones that live under bridges?”

  “The kind from Norse Mythology that turn into stone when exposed to sunlight.”

  “Yeah, I’d like to see one of those.”

  “Let’s go. We’ll take your car.” We walked out to Drew’s Chrysler minivan. “You still driving a mom-mobile?”

  Drew got into the driver’s seat. “Don’t knock it. Pound for pound, the most dangerous drivers in the world drive minivans. Where we going?”

  I gave him directions to the Swenson’s house. “So, did you bring an M-2 like I asked?”

  As we took off into traffic, he shook his head. “An M85C. I’ve got it disassembled and packed in a crate in the back. I also brought two M72 LAW rockets.

  It figured. Shit!

  He glanced over at me and grinned. “I know that look. I’ve used the M85. If you can keep it absolutely clean and inspect the ammo carefully—which admittedly is hard to do in a combat environment—it’s reliable enough. Besides, it was the only thing I could find in the time frame you needed; it was either an M85 or nothing.” He gave a shrug. “Just so you know, I don’t usually keep anti-m
aterial weapons ready at hand. It was sheer luck I was able to get the M85 and the two LAW rockets. They’re the M72E9s, the latest version with the improved warhead. They’re out of the packaging, but they’re still sealed so they should be good. By the way, you owe me five grand each for the rockets. I’m not going to charge you for the M85 because I’m going to keep it.”

  The M-2 .50 caliber Browning Machine Gun was John M. Browning’s magnum opus. Developed at the close of World War One, it was originally designed to shoot down aircraft. It was equally good at shooting down almost everything else, including most armored vehicles, reinforced concrete walls, and hopefully, Jotunn. There’ve been a few improvements made over the years, but basically, it’s the same reliable weapon as originally designed. The M-2 has been in continuous use by the US Military for almost a hundred years.

  Instead of one of the best anti-vehicle weapons in the world, Drew had brought me the New Coke of heavy machine guns.

  Granted, the M85C was smaller and lighter than the M-2. It had a selectable rate of fire, and it was supposed to be the modern, new and improved replacement for the M-2. Unfortunately, it was picky, delicate, complicated, and a bitch to maintain. Even worse, instead of using the same pull-out link ammo belt as the M-2, the M85C used a special push-through link which jammed all the time. After years of trying to get New Coke to work, the US Military went back to the M-2.

  I had about three hours of practice time on the M-2. I had never the opportunity to try the M85C but I’d read a lot of bad press. I knew I had no other options; it wasn’t like I could go to a local gun shop and just pick up an M-2. I trusted Drew. If he said he could keep it working, I believed him

  I was not happy about the M85. The LAWs were another story. I’d taken down a Jotunn with buckshot in the face; a LAW might be a tad excessive, but as every soldier knows, ‘overkill isn’t’. Even at five grand apiece, I was fine with Drew buying them. If we didn’t use them, I could always sell them to someone else.