To Vex A Valkyrie

by Jane Cousins

  His intent expression abruptly changing as the spray from three high pressure hoses suddenly hit him in the chest, bringing his forward momentum to an abrupt halt. He landed unceremoniously in the mud. Tried to get up, slipped over, landing on his backside.

  “The house!” Someone cried out a reminder of the importance of getting the burning structure contained before the flames had a chance to spread to the surrounding vegetation.

  With the pressure of the water hoses suddenly gone, Lanyard thought to get up. Only managing to make it to his knees when a rough hand dug into his scalp, fisting a large handful of his remaining hair. Lanyard stopped moving immediately, looking up into Fen’s angry blue eye, the other one puffy and half shut.

  “I still have enough strength to make you bald. You want to keep what’s left on your head? Don’t move.”

  Whether it was the dousing of water, or the clear air, the Vulcan’s eyes began to dim in colour, the orange fading, dark amber reasserting itself as he glared up at Fen. Despite kneeling in the mud, the minor Godling remained proud and defiant, but he was also very, very still.

  Which was all Fen could hope for, given the fact that if the man moved even slightly, there was a very good chance he might topple over in to the mud. His tank was officially dry.

  Brodie glanced down at herself, assessing the damage. She needed a bath, and something to put on several burns, but other than that she was surprisingly intact. Her attention shifted to what was going on around her, the fire crew now focused upon the house, and the ring of Enforcers, standing, looking foreboding, ringing Lanyard and Fen.

  Fen! Her gaze swept over him. The left side of his face was still bruised, and swollen. The skin around his wrists looked ugly and raw. Yet he’d never looked better to her. He was alive, safe. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as he looked up, his one good eye meeting her gaze, a grin spreading across his face. Damn, she loved the man.

  “You okay, Brodie?” Elijah shuffled up next to her, itching idly at his left elbow, trying to get his fingers up and under the seaweed wrap barrier.

  “Yes.” She was, but the word came out a little dully. It was over, she’d defeated the Vulcan as she had vowed to do. Now it was time to live up to the rest of that vow. It was time to leave. “What will you do with him?”

  Elijah shrugged broad shoulders. “Probably not a lot we can do. I’ll speak to Darcy, our liaison, and she’ll get in touch with his people, and they can come and get him.”

  “Seems a little unfair, given all the damage he has caused. How do you know he won’t be back seeking retribution?”

  Elijah cracked one of his rare smiles. “I’m guessing you haven’t met Darcy yet. He won’t be back causing anymore trouble once he spends some quality time with her. But what about you? What guarantee do you have that he won’t come after you?”

  Brodie frowned, hmmm, damn, the man was a demi-god and a relative of a friend of hers, what could she do… oh, yes, that might work. “Do you have your phone with you?” She enquired of Elijah who nodded. “Record this for me, would you?”

  Lanyard watched with narrowed eyes as Brodie approached, her armour gleaming in the sunlight, her eyes sparkling brightly, reminiscent of flakes falling in a snow-globe. Lanyard’s upper lip curled back. “You… you will pay for-” He abruptly stopped talking when Brodie reached out, flicking a finger down hard on the bridge of his nose.

  “I made you a promise, Vulcan. That when I kicked your ass I would dance for you.” A smile curved Brodie’s lips as she raised one hand in the air, turned, and began to wave her tush back and forth in Lanyard’s face. “Da, na, na, na. Da, na, na, na.” Several of the Enforcers began to laugh and clap.

  Fen tossed back his head and laughed along with them, this woman was magnificent. Bold, strong, never say quit. She belonged on the battlefield, facing challenges everyday. And if she was away from that life, she’d be miserable.

  He couldn’t ask her to stay. And he certainly couldn’t go with her, trailing around like an unwanted dog in her wake. Begging for any scraps of attention or affection she might be willing to send his way. Degrading himself, and losing her respect.

  No, they were not meant to be. He couldn’t offer her anything but love. And she’d said from the start no attachments, no emotions. Saying the words now, it would probably just make her pity him. Better to say nothing, let her go. Though she didn’t have to go right away, did she? Perhaps they could spend just a little more time together, celebrate her victory in a more appropriate setting. Though that would just be putting off the inevitable, Brodie was leaving, he already felt hollow inside.

  Brodie stopped dancing abruptly when she glanced up to meet Fen’s gaze, there was something final in that look. Goodbye? Yes, of course. He was far too polite to say the word out loud. And their arrangement was over, wasn’t it?

  The Vulcan was caught. She now had blackmail material to keep him from exacting any revenge on her. Still, it felt wrong that Lanyard would be getting away effectively scot free, given all the damage and problems he’d caused.

  She sighed, and straightened. “I’m done.” She watched as one of the Enforcers, a slim man who looked too fragile to handle Lanyard stepped forward, said something to Fen under his breath, and reached out to touch, no, pinch the Vulcan’s neck. Abruptly Fen let go of him and Lanyard slipped to the muddy ground unconscious. Four Enforcers stepping up to form a close ring around him.

  Fen took a staggered step, Brodie fought the urge to go to him, help him. No, if she touched him now, she might never stop. Instead it was Taite who stepped in, placing his shoulder under Fen’s arm to help. Walking him out of the way, past the fire trucks and their equipment to a cluster of cars. One of the trucks had its tailgate down and it was there that Taite deposited him.

  “Get the first aide kit.” Elijah instructed Taite, halting a few feet from Fen, studying him. “You look like shit.”

  “I’d say you should see the other guy, but you already have. Vulcans don’t have a lot of offensive skills but they seem to be practically indestructible.”

  “You’ll need to write a report.” Elijah instructed.

  “You might have to dictate it.” Taite was back, unpacking the first aide kit and pulling out several cold packs. “Your wrists don’t look good.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be as good as new once Nell bandages them with her new seaweed wraps.” Elijah assured, the left side of his mouth twisting upwards. Revenge was sweet.

  Brodie hovered next to Elijah. She should go. No, she should stay. Damn it. The longer she drew this out, the more painful it would be. Fen was safe. He would heal. He would get on with his life. Fight fires. Build his dream home. Flirt with women, date them. And once his nephew or niece arrived, he’d probably start sleeping with women again. Safe from the match making schemes of his mother. Grrr, she felt hot, jealous rage flare, only to be smothered by a nasty hollow feeling.

  Perhaps she could just sneak away? No, she looked around, Fen’s one good cerulean eye was focused unwaveringly upon her, as if challenging her to make a break for it. She met his gaze, tilting her chin up slightly. Valkyries never ran from a challenge.

  Taite smoothed thick blue ointment over Fen’s wrists, then switched to a clear ointment for his face. All the while, Fen’s attention remained riveted upon Brodie. He had this scary feeling that if he blinked, looked away for one second, she’d be gone.

  The staring competition would have lasted longer but the sound of a fast approaching car engine caught the attention of everyone not fighting the fire, or guarding the prisoner.

  A red car turned into the driveway too fast, skidding slightly, a speedy blur between the lines of silver birch trees before coming to a screeching halt. The driver’s door slammed open, Saffron emerging, gaze frantically sweeping across the area.

  “Fen!” Relief filled her voice as she spotted him. Closing in fast, her dark blue hair shining in the sunlight, her low cut white dress with big yellow splashes over it looking flimsy
yet feminine. There was a desperation, an intensity surrounding Saffron that made every man in the vicinity instinctively want to step back, and for some strange reason cover their manhood.

  Brodie’s instincts on the other hand were to call Raven, step forward and meet her challenger. No, no, Fen was not hers. If he wanted the water nymph, she ignored the sudden strange stabbing feeling in her gut, then he was perfectly entitled to be with the blue haired, calculating cow.

  “I heard over the police band about the fire.” Saffron looked at the remains of the smouldering wreck that had been Fen’s house. “And that you were injured, are you alright?” Saffron shifted her attention back to Fen, cataloguing carefully all his injuries.

  Saffron had intended to throw herself at Fen, hold him tight and soothe away his pain. But the man hadn’t even bother to meet her gaze, his attention fixed totally upon the Valkyrie.

  Wasn’t that just lovely. She had been monitoring the emergency bands for any news on Fen, rushing over here, nearly causing two crashes, and this was the thanks she got. She was beginning to think that maybe… just maybe, Fen Valhalla was not the man for her.

  Which was galling, all that time wasted. Baking spiced tofu cakes. Cleaning his dilapidated house in hopes he might come home to share a meal with her.

  Grrrr, she supposed she could try one last ditch effort to make him jealous. There were plenty of strapping candidates on display here today. Saffron’s eyes roved quickly over the offerings. No, too stern. Too threatening. Too young. Hold on… her attention froze on the magnificent specimen swaying slightly, now kneeling in the mud.

  Oh, my. Her heart rate sped up. That broad, muscular chest. Those dark, seething, amber eyes. That strangely appealing hacked hairstyle he was totally owning. Searing desire flashed through Saffron’s belly.

  “Is that… is that a Vulcan?” She pulled back her shoulders, thrusting out her chest unconsciously, willing his gaze to fall on her. Taking a few steps forward, her hand coming down to grip Brodie’s wrist hard, squeezing. “Is it?”

  “Yes.” Brodie answered, bewildered by Saffron’s strange behaviour.

  “He’s not taken, is he?” Saffron squeezed Brodie’s wrist harder still, her whole body frozen in place, waiting for her response.

  “Freyja, no. Wait.” Brodie stepped slightly in front of Saffron as she made to move towards Lanyard. “You don’t want him, trust me. He’s arrogant, superior and a chauvinist through to the bone. He thinks women are chattel, and fit only to serve him.”

  “Really?” A speculative look filled Saffron’s sea blue eyes. “Hmmm, a fixer upper? I can definitely work with that. Give me a week with him, I’ll send you a wedding invitation in the mail.”

  Brodie stepped out the way, watching as Saffron sashayed across the ground, silk dress swishing madly, drawing attention to her lush curves.

  “What just happened?” Fen blinked.

  “Um, I think you just lost your admirer.” Brodie pointed out helpfully, suddenly feeling strangely ridiculously happy.

  “Er…” Fen watched along with everyone else as Saffron moved to wrap her arms around the kneeling woozy Vulcan, bringing his head down to rest between her impressive breasts, a soft hand reaching up to soothe hacked hair off his brow. “Well, it looks like Lanyard will get his just desserts after all.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Elijah pulled out his phone. “I’d still like him to have a chat with Darcy though.” He moved away to make the call.

  Taite finished packing away the first aide kit. “Nell will want to see you first thing, Fen.”

  “Yeah, thanks.” Fen watched Taite stride away. Which just left him alone with Brodie. “So, Saffron and Lanyard?”

  “Could be a perfect match.” Brodie acknowledged.

  “Maybe… so, would you like to go for a victory drink… or something?” They could dine out somewhere nice, talk… for the last time. Damn, he didn’t want to draw it out, but he also didn’t want to see Brodie leave.

  Something? What did Fen mean by that? Sex? Was he talking about sex? Brodie swallowed, even as her libido rejoiced, she slapped it down hard. She wanted him, badly. And more sex would be great, fantastic even, but when would it end? How would it end? And what if he found out how she felt? What if she let it slip in the throes of passion?

  Some men might take advantage but not Fen, he’d be horrified. He would pity her. No, no… never. She swallowed hard, gritting her teeth, forcing the word out. “No.”

  “No?” Fen enquired, half smiling at her abrupt response.

  “No… thank you.”

  Fen’s expression hardened, something was going on here, something final. “Brodie, I-”

  Forcing a smile was the hardest thing Brodie had ever done, but somehow, she managed it. “Well, as holidays go, it’s been… interesting. We caught the bad guy… and… um, thanks… for the sex.”

  She called Raven and swiped the air, opening an access Portal to Valkyrie Headquarters, stepping through it before Fen could even open his mouth to respond, to say goodbye.

  Fen stared hard at the spot where Brodie had disappeared. She was gone, just like that. Poof. So long and thanks for all the sex.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Stephanie’s eyes lifted from the quarterly budgets as the silver pen lying on her desk skittered slightly. What? A glass trophy on the nearby bookcase wobbled next, accompanying the pen. Was it an earthquake? No, the rattling was too steady, intermittent, almost as if something… or someone was fast approaching her office.

  Given the thick plushness of the carpets decorating the administration floor of Valkyrie Headquarters, she would have said it was impossible for anyone to create such a racket. Thump, thump, thump. Getting louder, growing closer. Whatever, whoever, was coming, obviously meant business.

  Calling her war hatchets, Stephanie tensed, ready to face her foe. The double doors of her office exploding inwards with a thud, Brodie Buchanan striding through them before they could slam shut.

  Brodie. Phew. Stephanie relaxed, disappearing the hatchets. Her intercom buzzed softly, and Helgastein Gerwitz’s dry tones filled the office. “Brodie Buchanan to see you, Boss.”

  Hah, sarcastic cow. Reaching over Stephanie flipped the switch. “Yeah, I figured that out for myself, thanks.”

  Shifting her focus to Brodie, Stephanie reconsidered her decision on disappearing her war hatchets. Brodie was in full battle gear, armour gleaming, streaks of ash and soot marring her legs, arms and face. Bands of bright red, blistered, burnt skin ringing her upper arms. Shit, Brodie looked like she’d been in a fight. And from the intense glimmer in her eyes, she looked ready for another one.

  “Brodie?” Stephanie did her best not to jump as Brodie stepped up to the desk and slammed a fist down upon the surface, leaning over it so her face was only inches away from Stephanie’s.

  “I had sex! Are you happy?”

  Hmmm, so much for the idea that getting laid would relax her friend. Stephanie arched a fine, dark blonde eyebrow, something had definitely happened, and she’d lay good money down that it had something to do with a man. “Back from holiday so soon?” Nose wrinkling, with Brodie this close she could smell the stink of charred wood and burning flesh.

  “I am never, ever, going on holiday again.” Brodie gritted out, glaring directly into Stephanie’s baby blues. “I want it noted in my file. No holidays!”

  “Okay.” Stephanie watched as suddenly all the tension appeared to drain out of Brodie, she pushed back from the desk and slumped down on to the visitor’s chair. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.” Brodie crossed her arms over her chest, wincing slightly as a knuckle grazed some burnt skin and ruptured two blisters.

  “Those are quite some burns you’ve got there.”

  “All Vulcans are dickheads.” Brodie muttered under her breath.

  Vulcans? Stephanie leaned back in her chair. Had Brodie hooked up with a Vulcan on holiday? Maybe had herself a little holiday romance that didn’t end well?
“So?”

  “I want you to put me back to work.”

  “I was hoping you’d return from holiday a little more… relaxed than this.”

  Brodie’s fractured blue eyes lifted, and Stephanie fought not to flinch at what she glimpsed fleetingly in those depths, not anger, not challenge, there was a rawness there, loss.

  What the hell had happened on the bloody holiday that Brodie had returned in such a state? “Brodie, what’s going on? Is it a man?”

  Brodie shook her head, refusing to talk about it. If she said his name. Talked about Fen Valhalla, then she was sure this pressure that seemed to be building up within her would erupt, and she would start screaming, or killing, and never stop. “Put me back to work.” The words came out tight and harsh. “Please.” The last all but a desperate plea.

  “Sure.” Stephanie tapped her screen, scanning down through the current campaigns. “Something to ease you back in?”

  “No. Give me something on one of the higher plains. The bloodier, the better.”

  Stephanie tapped a few more keys. “Done.”

  “Good.” Brodie rose abruptly to take her leave.

  “Stop by medical first… get those burns taken care of.”

  Brodie nodded absently. “Sure, after I’ve seen the elves. I need a replacement for Reaper.”

  Stephanie’s mouth dropped open in surprise. By the Sword, she’d give anything to find out what had happened to Brodie whilst she’d been on leave. Vulcans, burns, Reaper gone, and that devastated look of loss lingering in her eyes. It would be one hell of story.

  “Good to have you back, Buchanan. Oh, and don’t forget the twins’ birthday party is coming up.”

  Brodie shook her head, a party, no, she couldn’t possibly go. “I-”

  “You promised the girls.” Stephanie reminded. And it would be the perfect time to question Brodie further, after she’d had the opportunity to work through all her emotions on the battlefield. She’d get some drinks and cake into her friend, and insist she spill her guts.