To Vex A Valkyrie (Southern Sanctuary - Book 9)

by Jane Cousins

  “Freyja, I hate you right now.”

  Stephanie beamed, bouncing in place, sending everything jiggling.

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Sorry. Just practising. Now I have to go, otherwise I’ll be late. The twins are on their last warning to play nice… as if that’s ever going to happen. And don’t forget about their birthday party next month. You know how much the girls love seeing you.”

  Brodie smiled despite herself, she loved Stephanie’s hellacious twins right back. Hard to believe they were turning fourteen, where had the time gone? “Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”

  Stephanie’s ponytail swung from side to side. “Nope. As of this moment you are officially on holiday. Sweetheart, I say this with genuine love… go get fucked.”

  Chapter Two

  Fen Valhalla bit back a moan, rubbing at his weary eyes. He wanted to yell at someone to turn that bloody siren off that was battering at his eardrums, but he clenched his teeth instead, enduring. Probably a good idea since the siren was attached to a fire truck speeding towards an emergency call out, and he was the one in the passenger seat who’d flicked on the siren to begin with.

  Goddess, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to throw up or curl into a ball and sleep for a month. Ugh, he was suffering. Though to be fair he’d brought it on himself. A week of drunken revelry to celebrate his sister Hadleigh’s announcement that she was pregnant might seem like overkill to some. Not to him.

  In truth, he’d been celebrating the end of a reign of terror inflicted upon him by his mother. Loved the woman, hated the fact that she’d gone a little grandbaby bonkers. Resorting to throwing potential Baby-Mama candidates at her sons night and day.

  Lying in wait for him at the grocery store, and the bars he frequented. Breaking into his home, and turning up at his work. Invariably, with some wide-eyed, strangely eager woman in tow. Spouting off about her hobbies the moment she opened her mouth, whilst her eyes devoured him like he was the last Godiva truffle in the box. All the while his mother standing by, her eyes filled with hope, her fingers crossed as she futilely waited for the sparks to fly.

  It had been a long and torturous campaign of attrition.

  He’d lost his home in the war. A blue haired nutty artist type that his mother had tried to set up with his brother, Erik, had broken into his home whilst he’d been away at a conference, and just never left. Hah, she could have the house, he wasn’t falling for the old - waiting in his bed wearing nothing but a smile - trick. He wasn’t born yesterday.

  He said a silent prayer in tribute to his two fallen brothers, both lost in the campaign. Melded now… sickeningly happy. But neither of those bastards had done him the courtesy of getting their wives pregnant. And things should have changed the moment Hadleigh’s news had broken. Upon hearing it, he’d immediately gathered all his friends, opened a tab at the Five Alarm Bar and started buying rounds.

  But by day five, he’d begun to suspect that something was still off. And by day six, when a car load of women with big hair and tiny skirts invaded the bar, their eyes locked and loaded on him, he had been forced to come to grips with the horrific truth.

  His mother’s campaign to get him melded, settled, and producing bundles of grandbaby joy had snowballed completely out of control.

  His photograph was still being circulated. His personal details were still available on several dating websites. Which he found to his frustration a few days ago he couldn’t cancel, as he’d never opened the damn accounts in the first place.

  Goddess, the whole hunt and meld the last remaining single Valhalla hadn’t just snowballed, it was now officially at avalanche proportions.

  It had been a relief to report back to work at the Fire Station. But his intended rest and recovery hadn’t quite gone to plan either. With a fire breaking out every night since he’d returned to duty. Between the fighting of fires, the clean up after, followed by investigating the cause, Fen was tired to his very bones.

  Now here he was, holding on tight as the truck took another tight corner, high beams cutting through the darkness ahead. Night number four of his shift, and fire number four. It was suspicious as hell. The fires all broke out around midnight, burned ultra hot, were a pain to put out, and when he sifted through the wreckage all Fen had been able to state with confidence, so far, was that no accelerants or ignition devices were in evidence.

  Point of origin was a mystery as well. All he could say for certain was that something hellishly hot started each of the fires. Not a Molotov cocktail. Nothing liquid. Not a triggered slow burn matchbox. Nothing man-made. It was a genuine puzzle; one Fen, as lead investigator, was determined to solve.

  The truck turned in to the Hidden Cove Cabin and Camping Grounds, Fen reached over and cut the blare of the siren. Though he left the lights flashing as Kristo manoeuvred the large truck easily down the narrow driveway.

  “Over there.” Mills, sitting in the back, tapped Kristo on the shoulder and pointed off to the left, through the trees, up the hill.

  Fen saw with some relief the Chief’s SUV truck was already parked at the scene, and to his experienced eye it appeared as if the fire had already been contained. He cracked a window, and though the smell of charred wood tinged the air, there was no billowing fresh smoke. Looks like the Chief had things under control.

  As they pulled to a stop beside the Chief’s truck, Fen noted a few of the Southern Sanctuary Enforcers were present, dark shadowy shapes, keeping the lookee-loos at bay. Good. Civilians on the scene only ever got in the way.

  Fen exited the truck, not bothering with his jacket or his helmet, he could see the Chief from here, and his boss wasn’t wearing his, signalling low potential danger. He gave the go ahead for the team to stand down but remain on alert.

  The scene was confusing at first. Especially since it was lit only by the truck’s headlights and moonlight. The cabin, what he could see of it, looked surprisingly intact. Though thin tendrils of smoke wafted upwards from the roofline and more drifted out the wide open doorway. It was too dark inside for Fen to gauge the amount of damage, the power had probably been cut so they’d need to bring in lights for the assessment.

  Was that a piece of roof by the cabin front door? Weird, and interesting. Unfortunately, it would have to wait to be investigated, for now he needed to make sense of several other elements concerning the scene.

  The first was the sight of Levi, the rookie assigned to drive the Chief, sitting in the smaller truck’s passenger seat, holding a rag to what was obviously a broken and bloody nose. He sported a black eye and he looked decidedly dazed but otherwise unhurt. Mystery number one.

  Mystery Number two lay sprawled at the Chief’s feet. Closer now, Fen recognised Patrick, one of the Sanctuary’s Enforcers, unconscious, though he didn’t look like he was bleeding. From the drag marks, Fen could only assume that the Chief had pulled him to safety… but not from the fire, the direction was wrong.

  The sound of metal on metal sounded off to his left, he recognised that sound from countless training sessions he’d endured when he was younger. Holy fuck, his eyes widened at the sight of Declan, his sister’s apprentice Enforcer, going toe to toe with what he could only describe as an Amazon. One wearing nothing but a fitted green tank top and tiny pyjama shorts with what looked liked frogs all over them.

  With the bad lighting it was hard to get a fix on her. Doubly so because she leapt, twirled, and spun with effortless speed. Her swords flashing, almost a blur, Declan barely managing to keep her at bay.

  “What the fuck, Pete?” He sidled up next to the Chief, never taking his eyes off the fight.

  “Hey, glad you could make it.” Chief Pete Bright winced as the Amazon inflicted a series of particularly brutal hits, Declan stumbling off balance before recovering. “As you can see… we have a little problem.”

  “Yeah.” What else could Fen do but agree. It was a rather curvaceous problem at that, from what he could see.

  “She won’t let us exami
ne the scene until someone – bests her – quote, unquote. Levi tried to question her when we first arrived but she took him down without blinking, said he wasn’t worthy. Then Patrick arrived to help, got distracted by her cleavage and next thing you know… bam, he’s down too. I called in Declan… thought the pretty boy would flutter his eyelashes and she’d melt into a puddle of co-operation. Unfortunately, she took one look at him, wrinkled her nose in obvious disgust, produced two massive swords from thin air… and well, here we are.”

  “She’s… good.” Fen could only state the fricking obvious.

  “She’s more than that. She’s toying with him. Could have taken him out with her first blow if she wanted to.”

  “Hey.” Declan huffed out a breathless protest, as he rolled across the muddy ground, standing just in time to block his opponent’s next blow. “I heard that.”

  “Stop chatting and put your back into it.” The Chief instructed gruffly. “So, I’m almost sure this fire was started by the same person that’s been keeping us busy the last three nights.”

  “And that’s our suspect?” Fen eyed the Amazon. They were clearly going to need more Enforcers… a lot more Enforcers. And maybe some chains.

  “No.” The Chief shook his head. “That’s our witness. Kept it from spreading until I could get here. Fen, it took a massive load of water to douse the source. What ever ignited, it burned way hot.”

  Fen glanced at Pete, noticing in the dim light how weary and tired his boss looked. Pete must have used up a lot of energy magically calling water from the nearby creek to douse the flames. “You okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. I’d just like some answers. And I’d like to get a better look inside, but…” he gestured to the ongoing duel. Even as the Chief waved, the Amazon’s swords whirled in an intricate move, the flat of one blade making contact with Declan’s chest, even as her other arm shot forward and she smashed her fist against his temple.

  Declan crumpled to the ground in an instant.

  “Shit.” The Chief issued a soft, frustrated sigh before turning his head to stare at Fen, a look of clear expectation on his soot stained face. “Well?”

  “Well, what?” Fen enquired.

  “Your turn.”

  “My turn?” Fen cast an incredulous look the Amazon’s way as she spun her swords in challenge, a flash of white… she was smiling? Enjoying this? “What do you expect me to do against that?”

  “Well, as I recall, I just paid for you to attend an expensive conference where one of the topics covered was conflict and hostage resolution… go resolve.”

  Fen ran weary fingers through his short, dark brown hair, sending the Chief a dirty look. Squaring his shoulders, he slowly began to walk towards the Amazon with the amazing sword skills and the even more amazing long, long legs. This woman was born to wear shorts.

  “Where are your weapons?” The Amazon enquired, disdain dripping from her words. Her tone so scornful it could have stripped paint off of walls.

  Fen bit back a sigh. He was too tired for this. Too weary to negotiate. Too exhausted to be nice. And above all else, he wasn’t stupid. This woman was skilled, it would be madness to meet her challenge. He had no hope of winning… if he played fairly… so he didn’t.

  With a wave of his hand, Fen sucked out all of the air from the woman’s lungs. There was an instant look of surprise on her face, her swords disappearing as she struggled to breathe. A fierce scowl settling over her features as she realised that the cause of her problems was standing immediately before her.

  Fen watched her straighten, no longer fighting to breath, she wasn’t going to waste her energy, instead she would play it smart. He noted those long legs of hers tense. She was going to attack him. Damn, he admired her cool. Didn’t mean he wanted to bite the dust though.

  With another wave of his hand, a brutal gust of wind barrelled out of nowhere, slamming into the Amazon, sending her crashing to the ground. The fire truck’s headlights hitting her full in the face. For the first time Fen realised how gorgeous the woman was, extraordinary really, with eyes that looked like snowflakes falling against a stunning blue canvas. Flawless ivory skin. Small, straight nose. Wide, sensual mouth with lush pink, full lips. And glossy midnight dark hair, currently pulled back in a high pony-tail.

  He held his power just a little bit longer, watching surprise flicker across her features at finding herself sitting in the dirt. Then she gave him a slow nod of acknowledgement. Fen released his magic and watched as she took a slow, measured, deep breath. Anyone else would have been struggling and gasping, but not this woman, as she took another slow, deep, controlled breath.

  Those penetrating shattered blue eyes remained fixed upon him. Not, thankfully in hatred, or challenge… there was surprise, and something else in those depths… respect?

  “I’m okay.” Declan’s hand shot up from where he still lay on the ground a few feet away. “In case anyone was wondering.”

  Fen hadn’t been, but it broke the spell that had settled over him and the Amazon. He took a few steps closer to her, not foolish enough to offer her any assistance.

  With liquid grace she rose, her eyes travelling slowly over him, from head to toe. Cataloguing him, assessing him. Noting his heavy work boots, yellow, insulated regulation trousers, his navy blue t-shirt and then up to his face, and his bared head and short, dark hair.

  Silence stretched between them for a few ponderous moments. Finally, the Amazon with a hard, cold look in her eyes, nodded, as if coming to some internal resolution.

  Fen waited. She was the unknown. He was wary, but ready, as she closed the distance between them, clapping him hard on the shoulder… that was going to leave a bruise.

  “Well met.” She sent him a cool, challenging look. “My name is Brodie Buchanan, Valkyrie of the Eighth Legion. Soul Collector for the Goddess Freyja. Commander of the Screaming Carrion Death Brigade… we should fuck.”

  Chapter Three

  Brodie immediately began scoping out the surrounding area, searching for where the two of them might find some privacy. After four hellish days of being on holiday, she was more than ready to bang this stranger and return to the battlefields. Holiday? She’d never been so bored in her life.

  Finding a lover worthy of her attention, that had not proven an easy task. There had been several promising candidates over the last few days, but all had proven too frail, too weak… too unworthy.

  Until now. Thank Freyja.

  Back to the question of location.

  The nearby woods? Though who knew what strange Australian fauna might crawl, bite, or sting her. The fire truck? Maybe, novel… and convenient, no, too much of an audience.

  Hmm, perhaps the handsome, dark haired stranger who had bested her knew of a place. She was just about to ask him when she realised that he was speaking. She rewound the conversation in her head, she’d just said… we should fuck. And the handsome man had said…

  “No thanks.”

  Her gaze narrowed. Had she misheard him? He was denying her, a Valkyrie? He would never know such pleasure. Perhaps he was already attached? A bolt of anger shot through her at the thought. A foolish reaction she acknowledged. There was bound to be many other men her height or taller around, with solid but muscular bodies, hair the colour of dark chocolate, glinting with hidden fire, and eyes so pretty that merely calling the colour blue, did not do them justice. Cerulean, yes… the colour reminded her of Faulkfaust demons. Yes, those ugly devil dogs had sure bled a pretty blue.

  Which was not the point here. The man had refused her generous offer. She would not take it personally. She would move on. Thanks to the fire, more potential bedding candidates had arrived. Yet despite her best intentions she found herself questioning his decision. “There is another?”

  “Another what?” The dark haired man looked around in confusion. Perhaps he was simple minded?

  “Another woman.”

  “What? No! No women.”

  “Oh…” What a shame. Brodie fel
t a pang of regret. “A man then, I understand.”

  “No! No men. I… look, normally I go for women. And you’re beautiful and your offer is very… kind, a little abrupt, but kind. But you see… women and me right now… not a good idea… so I’m celibate… abstinent-”

  “You’re a man of faith?” She eyed his muscular frame, and rugged features with obvious doubt.

  “No, I’m a fireman. I put out fires for a living. I’m working here. And even if I wasn’t, I’m just not in the head space for any attachments at the moment. Attachments all too often seem to lead to permanent around here lately, and the one thing above all else I won’t do, is permanent.”

  Brodie found herself frowning in confusion, the rugged handsome one was making no sense. “But I just want to have sex with you… no commitment, no sharing. If anything, I would prefer it if you didn’t talk at all, before, during, or after the act.”

  Fen’s instincts kicked into hyper drive, he tamped down hard on the bolt of lust that shot through him. Shit, no. He wasn’t falling for it. A gorgeous Valkyrie landing in his lap like this? It reeked like one of his mother’s match making schemes. He would be strong. He would be aloof. He would get the information the Chief needed about the crime scene and then he would get gone, as fast, and as far away from the Valkyrie with the gorgeous long, long legs and amazing eyes as he could get.

  Declan, who was still lying on the muddy ground nearby, choked out a hoarse bark of laughter. “Sorry.” Declan looked anything but. “I’m still processing the whole celibate bit. I wasn’t aware the word was even in your vocabulary. You sure you’re using it right?”

  “Hey, no one’s more peeved than me. But do you have any idea the number of desperate, sneaky women hunting me down thanks to my mother and her match making schemes?”

  “No idea…” Declan eased into a sitting position slowly. “More than a handful but less than a horde?”