by Libby Bishop
At least, that was her best guess. Erik can’t kill him—focus on that. Erik can’t kill him.
“Welcome back, Ms. Winter.”
Her gaze went from her lover to her captor, who was making his way toward Rune from the opposite side of the room. She recognized a Taser in his hand.
He smiled, wide and bright and eager. “Just in time to see the fun.”
Little bastard. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she warned, protectiveness for Rune bursting through her.
He laughed, moving to Rune’s side. “Oh, she’s fiery, uncle. No wonder you bedded her—she must be a wild one in the sheets.”
“Well,” she said, “you’re not wrong.”
Her gaze flicked to Rune long enough to see him roll his eyes.
“I’ll be the judge of that, Ms. Winter. But for now…”
He fired the Taser right in the center of Rune’s chest, and her Viking jolted. Seeing the pain tighten his forehead and around his eyes boiled her blood. You little shit. You’re going to regret that.
He stopped the flow of electricity—Rune shook the pain off quickly, but the sweat on his brow told her it had taken a toll.
“Did your father teach you how to bind your uncle?” she asked, trying to keep his attention on her until Rune caught his breath.
Erik snorted, annoyance clear in his body language. “He came to visit a few times after my mother died,” he said. “I’d just turned fifteen, and he taught me how to control my growing gifts. Taught me how to protect myself against other godkin. He explained some of the powers I could come across from others like me—some of that included powers Rune has.” He shook his head. “I was an afterthought to him, and once he told me everything I was, everything in my blood, and how to use and counter other powers, he left. And he hasn’t bothered to check in since.”
So he’d taught himself from his father’s words. Rune was right—his brother had a heavy hand in what his son had become. He’d loaded a gun, and never clicked on the safety.
Reign’s absence had played a part in Erik becoming a sick and sadistic monster. The same could be said for Odin. And where the hell is he, anyway?
“I was planning on leaving you alone, to let you get your rest and leave in the morning. Grabbing you would’ve been a mistake because the clerk at the store would have seen me talking to you in the parking lot and noticed you following me out.”
The large, wide windows at the front of the store would have allowed the clerk to do just that.
“But then, when I got home, I realized you looked familiar. It took a little bit for me to realize who you were, but once I did I knew I had to grab you.”
“How do you know who I am?”
“Oh, it took me an hour or so before I finally figured it out. But when I looked through my articles, it clicked. There was one from around the time of Soosie’s death that had a picture of you—on the wall over there.”
She gazed momentarily at the back of a door, and saw newspaper clippings covering it like wallpaper. All of his kills in the paper. Not surprisingly, he’d kept up with the cases, as a reminder of what he’d done, to relish in the hurt he’d caused the victims’ loved ones.
“You are an amazing hunter, Ms. Winter, but you couldn’t have found me on your own. I knew a god, or another godkin, was helping you, so I’ve been preparing for this. I have an alarm that triggers when someone’s standing on it.”
He moved closer to Rune again—she wished she could break the cuffs that bound her so she could tear Erik’s face off for what he’d done, what he was doing. Rune was a warrior, and Erik had bound him because he couldn’t beat him any other way. He was a coward in every sense of the word.
She didn’t bend to anyone, especially a coward.
Her anger pulsed through her, but she couldn’t let it rule her. The strength of it could cause her to lose control, to make a mistake that would get herself killed. That couldn’t happen. She wouldn’t allow her one chance at catching the bastard who’d butchered Soosie to get away because she couldn’t control her emotions.
I won’t fail you, Soosie, or you, Rune. I won’t.
Taking several deep breaths, she pushed the anger down enough to calmly ask, “Do you think you know me, Erik?”
“Oh, I know your type. And this”—his hand hovered over the trigger of the Taser—“is killing you. His suffering. You can’t stop it, no more than you could’ve stopped me from torturing and killing Soosie. I can’t kill my uncle; he’s a full god. But I can hurt him. A lot. And I plan to.”
Well, he was right about one thing—Rune’s suffering was like a knife twisting in her heart. But she refused to play his game. She’d told the bastard she would bring him to justice for Soosie and all the rest he’d killed, and nothing he could do would stop her. Torturing the man she was stupidly starting to fall for was Erik’s way of trying to prove her wrong.
Amateur. Doesn’t know me at all.
She stood, carefully maneuvering her arms around the back of the chair, the cuffs pinching the skin of her wrists as she did so. She rolled her neck, loosening her muscles, then stepped close to the barrier, stopping when she could feel the rhythm and strength from behind it and the bars.
“Who do you think you’re dealing with, Erik?” He turned, his sharp eyes on her. “I am Special Agent Liv Winter, FBI. I hunt assholes like you for a living. You’re nothing special to me. Do you know what you are, godkin?”
He walked to the bars, hatred swelling through him so visibly she was certain she’d feel it if the barrier wasn’t up. But she didn’t care. She’d played this game before.
“Shut up, or I’ll make you shut up. Bitch.” He smiled, predatory, and it honestly did nothing but fortify the steel in her blood. “Just like I did to Soosie. She screamed, you know, and begged.” He laughed. “Poor, little, scared rabbit. That’s what she was.”
Ice ran through her, straightening her back. The anger stirred beneath the cold as he opened the cage door.
“She begged for you, Winter. Pleaded to the gods for you to find her, to free her from her torment.”
She swallowed. Soosie’s melodic voice whispered in her mind at his words, causing her forehead to crease.
Erik’s smile grew as he stepped as close as he could to the barrier, until the front of him kissed it. “When I was hurting her, she screamed for you. Screamed your name over and over and over.”
Her gut clenched as those screams echoed in her mind, as if Soosie were in the room right at that moment. Images flooded her, but not of how she’d found her friend. No… She was seeing what his words implied—the torture Soosie suffered in the very room they were in. The vision ate at her, tore at her heart.
“You hear her now, Liv Winter?” Erik asked softly as he stepped further into the barrier. “Do you hear her calling for you as she’s being brutalized? Oh, how I relished in her pain, her fear. So very tasty, it was.”
Clenching her jaw, she tried to keep the tears from falling but failed. She was frozen as her gaze locked to Erik’s, as if she were unable to force herself to move, to breathe, to fight.
“Liv,” Rune’s voice boomed. “Do not let hi…”
His words trailed off—everything in the room quieted, and the raging storm fell away. She couldn’t even hear the brook. All she heard was her own heartbeat and Soosie’s agonized, tear-filled voice. An invisible hand squeezed around her heart, painfully constricting her breathing with each loud, slow beat.
“Now hear Rune’s. I’m going to make him scream far worse than I did my other victims. I’m going to turn him into a weak, broken god.” Erik’s fingers caressed her tightened jaw. “Then, sweet Agent Winter, I’m going make you my masterpiece.”
No, she told herself. No.
“Oh, yes, I am,” he hushed, as if he could read her mind as the tears fell harder. “I’m going to show the world that godkin can be just as strong and ruthless as the gods that gave them life.”
No one has this power over you, Liv.
He does not own you.
“Stop fighting, have a seat,” Erik soothed, stepping fully into the cage.
She moved backward, fear and anger mixing, the torturous images bombarding her so vividly that she cried out, whimpering as his hand touched her right hip.
“I. Am going. To destroy you,” he whispered through the wretched screams in her mind. “I’m going to take everything Rune and Soosie loved about you and rip it to shreds.”
Shreds… Her body froze with the word as the salty taste of her tears grazed her lips.
The edges of her cage shook, and she realized what was happening—Erik was eating at her guilt because he couldn’t use her fear, because she didn’t fear him. She feared what he’d do to Rune if she failed to save the Viking hunter, but not what Erik would do to her. Not fearing Erik would break his fragile hold on her.
Her watery, blurry gaze still locked to his, she used the images in her mind to force the core of who she was back up. The strength that Soosie and Rune so admired in her. She pulled it up and up and up, until a gargled cry of pain tore from her throat, freeing her breath, her anger.
Erik grabbed her shoulders. “I’m going to kill you, Agent Winter.” His grip tightened to the point of bruising.
She snorted. “You and what army, godkin?”
His eyes widened, and he straightened, as if his own electric power had vibrated through him.
“You’re a coward, a runt of the litter looking for attention.” A smile crept to the edges of her lips, and she felt the bruises on her face as it did. “You are nothing but a brat with daddy issues who takes his anger out on those you deem weaker. But that’s not the case, is it, godkin?”
“Liv.” Rune’s voice seemed to echo around her. “Don’t.”
And chance losing you to your nephew? she thought as Erik took one more step back. I think not, Viking.
Erik’s eyes narrowed, and she could actually see the hazy, diamond-white color of his aura—just as Rune told her it would look when his powers were at their strongest.
“They were all stronger than you. I know that for a fact.”
“You never met the others,” he shrieked.
The barrier behind him weakened with the outburst—she could feel the air in the cage lighten as it did so. She realized that because she didn’t believe in his power over anyone, that made him weak to her.
“How many others, Erik? How many women and men have you killed?”
He grinned, pride rising.
That’s dangerous stuff, runt.
“I killed my first when I was sixteen—a girl in my class. Now, at the age of forty-two, I’m up to fifty-three.” He laughed. “Fifty-three women”—he sneered at her—“and counting.”
Liv chuckled as he took a step toward her, his power buzzing around him like a live wire. “Good luck with that, runt. The only reason you’ve won up till now is because the others didn’t realize they were stronger than you. You kept their fear shoved down their throats with your power so they never had a chance to fight it off.” She made sure the smile on her face was wicked, and very pleased. “You are nothing.”
The barrier disappeared, and shock swam through his features, widening his eyes.
“Too late, godkin.”
He growled. “No.”
She kicked out her left leg as he raised his fist, aura vibrating. The hit sent him through the open cage door, and she followed. As he moved toward her, she jumped up and kicked him hard in the throat with her boot heel.
Thirteen years of martial arts training—worth every damn penny.
He fell back to the wall, then to the floor. She stepped up to him, foot on his throat as he tried to catch his breath, and leaned down at the waist. “You, godkin, can go to fucking Hel.” She smiled at his disdain. He knew damn well that she was referring to the goddess, not the place.Then, she slammed her boot into his face, and he blacked out immediately.
Chapter Eleven
She heard chains break and rattle but didn’t turn her gaze from Erik. Not until Rune was beside her, his fingers tilting her chin so their eyes met. His gaze was filled with worry, pride, and, of course, desire.
Looked like once Erik was knocked out, the power that held Rune dissipated enough that he could break free.
“That was dangerous, Valkyrie. He may not have had the power of fear or guilt over you, but his electric power was still alive and well.”
She sniffed, then grinned, ignoring the pain that caused. “It’s who I am.”
He kissed her lightly. “Thank the gods for that,” he said, fingers lightly trailing over her bruised cheek. “You just saved my damn life, woman.”
“The images I saw…” Her voice cracked slightly as those pictures returned to her mind. “If Erik wanted to defeat me, he shouldn’t have used your death as a weapon.”
He wiped a stray tear from her eye. “I am sorry for the nightmares he has given you because of me, because of my family.”
She shook her head. “That’s not on you.” It really wasn’t. “We need to get out of this basement. Do you think—” The sound of sirens in the distance interrupted her. “The cavalry is closing in.” She met his gaze, sniffling, but still managing a weak smile. “Too bad, really. I mean, I am still in handcuffs.” A little humor never hurt in dire situations.
He kissed her, sweet and gentle, but she didn’t miss the heat in his gaze before their lips met.
“Can’t wait to use my own on you.”
She laughed softly then looked down at Erik. She could feel every bruise, every broken rib he’d caused. He’d done far worse to Soosie and the other women, and though she loathed the emotion, hate seeped through her. But in that hateful moment, the smell of wildflowers invaded her senses—Soosie’s favorite.
“I’m sorry it took so long to find him,” she whispered, and the smell surrounded her fully, almost as if it were hugging her. “Rest in peace, Soosie.”
Rune’s arms came around her, and she broke down in tears, letting out the six years of pent-up anger and guilt at not having caught the killer. Rune didn’t speak soft, soothing words. He did something far more important—he held her tightly as she completely fell apart.
…
Despite the injuries to his body, he felt nothing but shock, relief…and pride in the fierce redhead in his arms. He’d feared for her toward the end, when he saw Erik using the memories of what he’d done to Soosie against her, sending the images, even the echoes of screams, into her mind. Since the godkin couldn’t use fear against her, he used her guilt instead. But that hadn’t saved him in the end, even with his power at full strength.
Liv had defeated the son of a god, an heir to Odin, but the price of that was that she’d forever hear the echo of her best friend’s pain, see the images of what Erik had done. He knew she wouldn’t hide behind that grief. She’d find a way to use it to find another killer, to save another life.
And he loved her the more for it. She wasn’t there yet, but he was ready. He’d known thousands of strong women in his four hundred years of life—both human and goddess—and none of them held a candle to his Valkyrie.
But he still needed to get home, still needed to make certain he’d not lost another close to him to his brother’s anger. That need was eating at him, festering in his blood. Why had the Gate not opened yet? Why had Odin not come to claim Erik and take him back to Asgard?
To temper his emotions, his fear of losing someone else to Reign, he held Liv’s hand by the FBI truck. She was no longer crying. She’d allowed the paramedics to check her over, clean her cuts, and bind her ribs, but she refused the hospital, saying she’d go after speaking with her partner and the local police.
“So Erik was a son of your brother?” Agent Cory Adamson—dark haired and an inch or two shorter than Liv—asked.
“Yes. But my brother has always been careless in who he mates with, and forgets the children he sires until he’s forced to deal with them.” And damn him, Reign would never forget again after this.
“Does he have more children we should worry about?”
Rune shook his head. “He has five other children, and two of those are with human women. Them, you don’t need to worry about.” But… “I didn’t know of Erik, however, so I can’t be certain there aren’t more like him.”
Cory’s grim expression told him the agent understood very well what that could mean.
“We need to find these fifty-three women he claims he’s killed,” Detective Maurice Bass said. “How do we make him talk?”
“I doubt you can. Though, I’m sure Liv could do it.”
She snorted. “Yes, I could.”
Rune saw a smile flicker at the edges of Adamson’s mouth, and he shared that amusement at her response. There was no doubt in either of them that letting Liv loose on the godkin would be…something to see.
“But he is a godkin—Odin will see him to our home and give him a fit punishment. Human bars aren’t enough to trap him securely, not with his powers.”
Adamson and Bass immediately straightened, anger clear in their expressions.
“There is no—”
Detective Bass’s words were cut off by the distinct feeling of the Gate—strong energy to the right of them. About damn time, All-Father.
Turning in that direction, he saw the last bright, bluish-silver pulse of the Gate, then a tall old man, with long gray hair and the stature of a king, walked into view.
The Gate was invisible to the human eye, though they could feel the energy if they were close enough—and they were certainly close enough.
When Odin reached them, Rune bowed his head. “Great-grandfather.”
He saw that Adamson and Bass gave a quick nod to the All-Father, but not Liv. No, she met Odin’s clear blue gaze—well, his one blue eye—head on, unafraid and unwilling to bend to the king who’d let a godkin kill for over two decades.
This isn’t going to go well, he thought as Odin took one step forward.
“You defy my position, Liv Winter?”
Probably shouldn’t greet her in that way, Odin.
Liv squared her shoulders. “Yes, I do.”