Viking Warrior Rebel

by Asa Maria Bradley

  Luke had to scramble backward to avoid being stabbed. Everything happened much faster than any fight he had been in before. He’d used inhuman speed to track and attack opponents since he had escaped the lab as a teenager, but he hadn’t fought someone who could match his agility. Luckily, the guy was still groggy, which gave Luke the advantage he needed. He quickly stomped on the guy’s hand and used his other foot to aim another kick to Freaky’s face.

  The guy caught the foot and uttered a guttural groan as he pushed Luke back. Inhuman speed combined with abnormal strength. A trickle of fear slithered through Luke, and the hairs on his neck stood again. He quickly dismissed his reaction and centered himself into fight mode again, but by the time he found his footing, Freaky was standing. His left arm hung uselessly by his side, and the shoulder drooped low at an abnormal angle. Luke couldn’t help but grin. The guy might be some kind of genetically modified monster, but so was Luke.

  And this was the first time as an adult that he got to test his abnormal abilities with a matched opponent. Despite the fear still clinging to the edges of his mind, the soldier in him rose to the challenge. Worthy opponent or not, no need to give Freaky any time to recover. Luke stayed on the offensive and kept an eye on those claws. He attacked with a right uppercut to the chin, and when his opponent’s head snapped back, Luke delivered a left cross to the guy’s shoulder. For the finale, he followed up with an axe kick.

  Freaky grunted and swiped at Luke with his vicious claws, almost shredding Luke’s shirt. The guy tried to regain his balance, but the injured shoulder threw him off axis and he hit the ground like falling timber. His head bounced off the concrete floor, and his eyes rolled back into his head, finally displaying some white. Freaky was out for the count.

  Luke let out a big breath of relief. That had been exhilarating but close. After his brother Donovan’s suicide, the only thing that had kept Luke going was the need to avenge his twin brother. That had been almost twenty years ago, and now finally, after living on the street, military training, and then the FBI academy—where he’d been recruited into the clandestine DTU—he had the skills and the opportunity to make that happen. He was not going to get himself killed. Not when he was so close.

  Freaky was still out, resting with his shoulder at an uncomfortable angle. Luke strode up to the car and peeked inside to see what the creature wanted so badly. The pale form of unconscious Astrid made Luke’s heart skip a beat. He rubbed his chest and told himself the reaction had nothing to do with caring about the blond Amazon. It was only due to her being an important link to the lab that had held him and his brother captive so many years ago.

  A quick check revealed all the doors locked, so Luke took a page from Freaky’s game book and used his elbow to bust in one of the windows. He chose the passenger-side front window to spare Astrid from as much of the spraying glass as possible. Once inside, he checked her vitals, mostly by touch since the garage’s fluorescent lights didn’t penetrate to the depths of the back of the car. Her pulse was weaker than he’d like, but regular. She breathed unhindered. He patted her down, checking for any injuries that would explain the blood trail, and found her car keys in the front pocket of her jeans.

  As he moved down her legs, his hands became coated in blood. Astrid’s jeans were covered in it, as was the backseat. A strip of cloth had been tied around her leg like a tourniquet. He debated loosening the makeshift bandage, but she’d obviously tied it after the jeans got soaked, so it must have stopped her bleeding. Her steady breathing and pulse were good indications that she hadn’t bled out.

  He fished the car keys from Astrid’s pocket and adjusted her position so she was resting more comfortably and more securely. Outside the car again, he spared Freaky another look. Ideally, he’d like to bring the unconscious creature with him so he could interrogate him, but he didn’t have anything strong enough to tie Freaky up. If he wasn’t working undercover, Luke would have had useful equipment with him. Anything less than regulation handcuffs would probably break as soon as Freaky woke up and decided to exert some force on his bindings. Luke couldn’t risk that happening while driving, especially not with Astrid in the car.

  There was that chest tweak again. He rubbed the skin above his heart. Something he ate must have given him heartburn.

  He stepped into the silver SUV and started it. His first priority was to keep Astrid alive, to get her to medical care before any of Freaky’s friends showed up. If that involved leaving a potential source of information unsecured, so be it. Life was full of bitter choices.

  He put the car in Drive and took off toward the hotel.

  * * *

  Luke parked as close to the hotel’s service elevator as he could. By some stroke of luck, he managed to get unconscious Astrid up to his floor and in his room without running into anyone. He’d considered taking her to the emergency room, but he preferred not having his undercover name in any official records, not even on ER intake forms. Showing up at a clinic with a woman who’d been stabbed would lead to all kinds of questions and probably a visit from more than one law enforcement officer. Luke had field medic training. If her injuries weren’t too severe, he’d save time and paperwork by taking care of her himself.

  He grabbed a towel from the bathroom and spread it on the bed before lowering Astrid onto it. He wouldn’t know the extent of her injuries until he removed her clothes. Feeling slightly uneasy about undressing her while she was unconscious, he forced his mind into clinical mode and scanned her exposed skin for wounds as he peeled off her jacket, some kind of knife harness, and her T-shirt. He found plenty of bruises on her upper body and a knife injury on her left forearm. It appeared only superficial, so he moved lower.

  The fabric tied around her thigh was soaked, but no new blood trickled through as he loosened it. He couldn’t get the jeans to cooperate. He finally reached for his utility tool and cut through the denim so he wouldn’t aggravate her injury more than necessary. Then he returned to the bathroom for soap and to fill the ice bucket with warm water. As he cleaned the injury with a soft washcloth, he checked for infection. The skin around the gash was red and irritated, but there was no discolored discharge.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Luke continued wiping Astrid clean of blood. He didn’t find any other injuries except for a few minor abrasions on her legs. They would heal on their own. In the first aid kit that he never traveled without—once a Marine, always a Marine—he found a suture-and-needle package. After irrigating the gash with alcohol, he broke the sterile package and retrieved the pre-threaded needle. He applied small, precise stitches to close the wound. She’d hopefully not have too much of a scar. Stitching up your own injury sucked balls big time and hurt too much to pay attention to scarring, which was why part of his shoulder looked like Frankenstein had stitched it together.

  He cut the last piece of suture and put some antibacterial gel on her wound before placing a large sterile dressing to stop the small trickle of blood his stitches had caused. Astrid’s heart rate and breathing were still steady, even if he wished her pulse was a little stronger. He tucked her under the covers and gathered the bloody towel, jeans, scarf, and discarded medical supplies. The metal trash can seemed like the perfect fireproof receptacle, so he went out on the balcony to burn it all. No reason to leave DNA evidence behind, although he kept one small blood-soaked square of the scarf. He’d run a match search through some of the FBI’s databases.

  He’d just returned inside when his work cell phone rang. A quick glance on the display revealed it was Special Agent in Charge Whalert. Luke hesitated. He hadn’t reported in for weeks and had known eventually the boss would track him down. He’d just hoped the guy would have so much on his plate that Luke would have a little longer before he had to explain being out of touch. The phone stopped ringing but immediately started again. Whalert again. As impossible as Luke knew it was, this time the ringtone seemed more insistent.

  Luke took
a deep breath before stepping out onto the balcony again. He hit the button on the phone that would connect him with his probably very irate boss. Before he had a chance to even squeeze out his name, Whalert was barking in his ear.

  “What the hell, Hager? Almost a month and you don’t check in?” Whalert’s voice was so loud that Luke wouldn’t be surprised if Astrid could hear the guy, despite the patio door and her unconscious state. Yep, definitely pissed off.

  Luke’s ears rang from hearing his real name at such a loud volume. “In my defense, I’ve been a little busy running a nightclub while also handling my mission and maintaining cover.”

  “Do we really need to have the talk about why you need to follow procedures? We have some leeway within the DTU since we’re mostly off radar, but even I demand some sort of protocol.”

  Luke felt like a little kid being reprimanded. His body was actually squirming. He reminded himself that it’d been some time since he hit puberty, and he manned up. “Procedure or no procedure, have I ever let you down before?” When in the wrong, going on the defensive usually worked.

  Some grumbling traveled down the line. Luke couldn’t make out all the words, but one was definitely “asshole.” He didn’t mind not hearing the rest.

  “What progress have you made?” Whalert asked in an almost normal tone of voice.

  “I’ve made contact with the target.”

  “Yeah, Broden shared that in his report. You know, those things most agents fill out on a regular basis.”

  Fuck Broden and his reports. Why did he have to be such a brownnose? “That’s correct. We saw her at dinner last night and I spoke with her, but I had continued contact with her tonight.” He had to give his boss something but would keep the details to himself. Until Luke could figure out exactly what Astrid was up to, there was no reason to involve people higher up the chain of command. The longer someone sat behind a desk, the more complicated they tended to make things.

  “What kind of contact?”

  “I followed her tonight and pretended a chance meeting.” That wasn’t exactly a lie. Even if Astrid was unaware of his presence in the parking garage, they had kind of met.

  “You don’t think she’ll find that suspicious?”

  “Not at all. She has no clue I followed her.” The only full truth he’d said during this conversation.

  His boss chuckled. “You’ve already managed to get her into bed, haven’t you?”

  Luke glanced at Astrid asleep under his covers. “Something like that.” He ignored the stab of guilty conscience and refused to explore if it was because he was misleading Astrid or his boss. “We’ve flirted.”

  Another chuckle traveled down the line. “I just bet you have. I’ve seen how you flirt.”

  Luke pushed down the irritation he felt at his boss’ insinuation. He wasn’t that bad. Women found him attractive, but that didn’t mean he jumped into bed with everyone who gave him a clear signal. Most of them maybe, but not all of them. “Let’s move on,” he muttered.

  “I understand, no kiss and tell. I like that about you.” Another chuckle. “Okay, down to business then. Have you set up a meeting with Kraus?”

  “Yes, but he’s not available until two days from now.” Luke was meeting with the German businessman under the pretense of offering money-laundering services through the nightclub. In reality, he wanted to check if the man had a connection with the covert government labs. Before the North Dakota lab closed down, Kraus had met with the head scientist of the facility. It had taken weeks to set up the meeting. “I’m not sure if he’ll take me up on my offer though. He seems a little skittish.”

  “Most criminals turn paranoid a few years into their careers. And with good reason.” Whalert sighed. “I’m actually calling for more reasons than just finding out why the hell I haven’t heard from you.” Uh-oh. Luke had heard that tone of voice before. It always delivered bad news. He braced himself for what was coming. “There’s been some chatter in cyberspace,” his boss continued. The bureau monitored several regions of cyberspace, including the off-the-grid corners that were usually referred to as the Darknet. Conversations that seemed related to the covert labs often popped up, but so far DTU hadn’t been able to pinpoint who was taking part in the discussions.

  “What can you tell me?” Luke asked. The information gathered was often sensitive enough that only people several security levels above him were allowed access.

  “I don’t know much.” Whalert sounded apologetic. “But there is a lot of talk about a ‘live package’ arriving.”

  Luke sighed. “That could mean anything.”

  “I know, but in this case we think it has something to do with a person or persons. Maybe someone with sensitive information.”

  “Arriving where?”

  “That’s the problem.” It was his boss’s turn to sigh. “We don’t know the location. Hell, we don’t even know if this person is coming voluntarily or has somehow been coerced.”

  Luke’s intuition tingled, and cold tendrils trailed across his scalp. He glanced at Astrid through the glass door. Somehow she was involved in this. What the fuck had she gotten herself into?

  Chapter 5

  The first thing Astrid noticed as she fought to wake up was that a weight around her waist had her trapped. She opened her eyes and saw a male arm draped over her middle. A solid, warm body spooned her from behind.

  Holy Mother of Valkyries, she had no memory of going to bed with anyone. Who was he? Light-headed and disoriented, she tried to remember the events that had led to this situation. Her head throbbed as if she had a hangover, but she didn’t remember drinking alcohol. Slowly she lifted the arm trapping her and slipped out from underneath it and the covers.

  Once safely out of the bed, she turned and found Luke Holden looking at her, leaning on his elbow, head propped up with his palm. His hair was tousled and his smile sleepy as he stared at her. “Hey,” he said, his voice husky.

  The vision of maleness melted her insides, and hearing that throaty voice pulled at something in her chest. Lounging on top of the covers in a gray T-shirt and black boxer briefs that hugged his assets tightly, he was pretty much irresistible. Wait, on top of the covers?

  “What?” she croaked and looked down to see if she was naked. She had on both bra and panties. Maybe they hadn’t slept together.

  Yeah, right. As if she would get into bed with Holden and keep from jumping him. The man was sex incarnate.

  As if he knew what she was thinking, he grinned.

  She swallowed a few times to get her throat to work. “What’s going on?” she managed to squeeze out, marginally clearer.

  Holden’s gaze dipped low and then slowly traveled upward before meeting her eyes again. Heat flashed in his gray eyes and his pupils dilated.

  Her nipples tightened in response to his blatant appreciation, and she swore under her breath. She crossed her arms to hide the evidence of her attraction. How was she supposed to stay away from this man when her body didn’t listen to her brain? She tossed her hair and then stumbled when the gesture made her dizzy.

  Holden shot up from the bed and caught her before she did a face-plant. He put his arm around her shoulders, supporting her as he gently lowered her to sit on the bed. “Easy there, hothead,” he mumbled, his lips buried in her hair. “You lost a lot of blood last night. For a while there, I wasn’t sure you’d wake up.” His Adam’s apple trembled as he swallowed.

  “I was hurt?” Astrid blinked several times to clear the white spots dancing in front of her eyes. Disjointed memories flittered through her mind. She’d fought wolverines in a parking garage. “They attacked me,” she mumbled, enjoying the heat radiating off his body.

  She couldn’t help herself. She snuggled closer into his embrace. The small shift of her legs made her wince. The skin on the inside of her thigh throbbed and pulled. She angled her leg and looked
closer. A neat row of sutures held a knife gash together. Had she gone to the hospital? But why wasn’t she still there? “Did you stitch me up?”

  Holden slid down on the floor and kneeled in front of her. Gently, he traced the stitches with his fingertip. “Shit, Astrid, you almost bled out. I didn’t know if I had time to get you to an ER, and the hotel was closer. I’ve had some medical training, so when I saw that your bleeding had slowed, I took care of it myself.”

  She swallowed loudly. Who the hell traveled around with a suture kit? Who exactly was Holden? The vision of him kneeling between her thighs distracted her from her thoughts. More than just the wound throbbed now. Her inner warrior responded to the heightened emotions. Astrid clamped down on their connection, willing the berserker to calm down and resume its slumber. The beast inside her had other ideas though.

  Mine, it whispered in her mind.

  Astrid jerked. What the hell? The berserker had never spoken to her before.

  Holden looked up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “You didn’t.” She forced a mental command through the connection with her berserker, and finally the beast settled down. “I’m ticklish,” she said to Holden. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice her internal struggle.

  She felt beads of sweat breaking out on her forehead. Her blood loss must be why she imagined her inner warrior speaking to her. The weakened state had caused some sort of hallucination. She cleared her throat. “How did you find me?”

  He looked away and withdrew his hand from her thigh. “You were in the back of your car in the train-station parking garage. At first I thought—” He rubbed his face. “You were unconscious.”

  “No, not where did you find me. How?” She narrowed her eyes.

  His gaze darted to hers before flitting away again. “I followed you,” he mumbled.

  Bullshit. She’d have noticed if anyone followed her down from the mountains. Those twisty roads would have shown someone in pursuit immediately. Even if she’d been upset, she’d have known to check for someone tailing her.