The Valkyrie's Guardian

by Moriah Densley

  Instead of going out the exit, Jack punched a code in the security keypad, and a concealed door opened out of the wall. Complete darkness yawned behind it, with the dark earthy smell of an underground tunnel. “No one but me and Kyros has this code.”

  Nice that Jack had the night vision of a cat, but Cassie had to take the uneven pavement and sudden turns blindly. She rammed into his back, unaware he had stopped. She felt the hard outline of two pistols and a knife handle tucked into his waistband. She recognized the sounds of forest at night and a welcome draft of fresh air. The tunnel opened outside the castle gate into thick foliage.

  Jack climbed out the hatch first and handed her through. He shut the door without a sound then raised his face to the breeze, sniffing the air in long shallow breaths. He looked pagan in the wan moonlight, shirtless, hair rumpled, a wild air about him. He was hunting, and sympathetic waves of excitement revved her pulse too. He paused and leaned eastward, dragging in deep breaths with flared nostrils. He went unnaturally still, then huffed in satisfaction, a twitchy smile playing on his lips. If he had a tail, it would be wagging.

  She didn’t smell a thing. That was saying something, since she’d become disgusted with every possible kitchen smell the past few weeks. Not to mention she lived down the hall from a dormitory full of sweaty, stinky boys.

  “This way.”

  Despite her protests, he jogged a half mile toward the hills flanking the Inverness river. He paused at the first row of foothills cradling a stone ruin. He hovered behind the tree line, sniffing and scanning the area.

  The wind shifted and she finally caught a whiff of the smell he’d tracked. Nauseating, the same rancid-yogurt-formaldehyde stench she remembered from the base. It made her stomach roil, made her crave violence, teased her brain with dark, ugly impulses. It set off a new bout of cramping that buckled her knees. She gripped a nearby branch and forced herself to breathe evenly, hoping Jack wouldn’t notice her suddenly closed mind. She really didn’t want to get sidelined.

  Jack halted her with a combat hand signal — already in soldier mode — and stalked behind the wall of the rubbled building. Probably one of hundreds of Druid ruins listed on travel brochures. She watched as he crept silently, staying behind the cover of the forest, then he disappeared for long minutes. A soft noise in the brush made Cassie turn and crouch, ready to fight. It was only a doe, blinking in curiosity. Jack emerged over the bank of the river, stamping his feet and hissing oaths under his breath. He marched back to her hiding place, making a racket compared to his silent stalking before. She didn’t dare laugh at the two rabbits hopping after him.

  “Gone. No one’s here, we’re too late.”

  “How could that be?”

  “He stopped inside the ruin — I’m sure of that, but past this side of the river the trail goes cold. Probably took a sodding boat. We never put that into any of our security plans. Everyone can thank me for that stupidity.”

  “No way, this isn’t your fault. You can’t personally take care of absolutely everything.”

  “The hell I can’t. Don’t sugar coat it — I’m the officer in charge, so I’m at fault for the failure. And I get to call Kyros and tell him I lost a boy capable of spontaneous combustion, kidnapped by our favorite Mr. X.”

  “Gee, your day sucks. And the sun isn’t even up yet.”

  He shot her an exasperated look and shook his head. Guess he didn’t have his sense of humor working this time of night. Jack handed her his weapons from behind his back then dropped his pants and stepped out of them. He strode away toward the river without another word, his ridiculously-muscled back and rear end reflecting the moonlight quite nicely.

  “Ah, Jack. What are you doing?”

  “Skinny-dipping. Call it fat-arse dipping if ye want.”

  She folded his pants and tucked the weapons inside, totally weirded out. He came back a few minutes later, drenched and even more ticked off. He cocked his head to indicate she should follow him, and he kept walking as though nothing going on here was bizarre. He didn’t even stop to ask for his pants and weapons.

  She cleared her throat. “So, since you brought it up, I might add that I like your backside. It’s not tiny like some guys have, as though they never grew out of their ten-year-old butt. Yours is very grabbable. Like the classical Atlas, muscled and round and proud of it.” She whistled low in a flirty cat-call.

  Jack halted and leaned his head back with his eyes squinted shut. She thought he was angry, but then he turned around and planted a quick hot kiss on her mouth. He laughed — a hollow sound — and tucked her under his arm. As abruptly as he’d reacted with joviality, his energy deflated and he trudged to a halt. He scrubbed his face and looked up at the quarter moon, as though he expected divine guidance.

  “Sorry, Cass. I can’t do this.”

  “Do what?”

  He unfolded a scrap of fabric from his fist and held up something dark and dripping water. “Lie to you. I was going to go back to the academy without telling you, but I can’t.”

  She took the fabric scrap and turned it over in her hands.

  “I went back because I caught your scent by the river. Strange, because you’ve never come this way. Or have you?”

  “No.” Finally she recognized it — her underwear. Black satin panties with lace around the waistband. Worn yesterday, should have been in the laundry bin inside their shared quarters. She waited for panic to strike and sink in her gut, for dread to make her tremble with fear. She looked at Jack, and as the seconds ticked past, she found her reaction matched his.

  One-hundred-percent colossally pissed off.

  • • •

  Kyros and Lyssa stopped in front of the grand entrance, and like magic, every head of family in the MacGunn clan appeared to greet them. Ben opened Lyssa’s door and handed her out like an impeccable Victorian gentleman. Hugh shook hands with Kyros and assigned his boys to valet parking and baggage service.

  Jack and Kyros took off right away with their heads together, serious as a funeral. Cassie gave Lyssa a half hour to get settled in, then knocked on the door of her west wing suite, which showed no sign of termite damage. The inside rivaled the Ritz-Carlton. Cassie cleared her mind, knowing Lyssa would hear if she betrayed even a shred of jealousy over the MacGunns rolling out the red carpet when she and Jack got the Cinderella treatment.

  Cassie managed a genuine smile. “Sorry you have to run to the rescue every time we screw up.”

  “Hey, it’s the perfect time of year to visit Scotland.”

  “If you don’t mind eighty-degree afternoons and arctic nights.”

  “That’s fine, I brought a husband.” Lyssa winked, nearly convincing Cassie she felt as cheerful as she looked.

  “The power goes out here all the time; no one will suspect it’s you two, burning up the sheets.”

  Lyssa laughed and folded Cassie into a hug, exactly what she needed. “I missed you. How are you fee — ” Lyssa stepped back, wearing a startled expression. What’s that?

  What’s what?

  Shh. Lyssa frowned, then pulled Cassie by the arm and made her sit on the bed. Lyssa knelt on the floor and laid her head in Cassie’s lap. Lyssa closed her eyes and breathed slowly for what seemed like minutes.

  She sat up and smiled. “Can’t you feel that?”

  “Ah, no.”

  Lyssa smiled again, and her fey sage-hazel eyes misted. “Your baby. She’s lovely.”

  Cassie’s mouth gaped open. “She?”

  “Oh, yes. Strong, and happy. Her thoughts are simple, she has no conscious awareness, but she is content.”

  “Why can’t I hear it?”

  “I don’t know. Sorry, Cassie.”

  “I’m supposed to have a boy.”

  “Well, it’s only the size of a quarter, so I can’t say for sure. I’m
talking about an essence, like a color of light, and it’s definitely feminine. In an aggressive sort of way. Like a kickass shade of hot pink.”

  Cassie blinked, that hit-by-a-freight-train feeling still running her over. But it did make sense, because she remembered Lyssa’s baby, who was definitely a boy, and she knew this by listening to his … what’s the word? Presence? Essence, whatever. Bizarre, all of it.

  “I’m sure you’ll feel her soon. Her thoughts should come to you in another four weeks, for an extra-sentient baby. It sounds like whispering, like a river from far off. Listen for it.” She smiled, and it broke Cassie’s heart to see how sincerely happy Lyssa was for her.

  “Thank you, Lyssa.” She would know what Cassie meant. “Any luck for you?”

  “No.” She sounded testy. “Kyros is holding out on me. He says he can scent it when I’m fertile. Some glandular pheromone … whatever. Spooky, huh?”

  “Jack said the same to me. Minus the scientific analysis.”

  Lyssa smirked, a very knowing expression. “I’ll bet.” She fingered the quilt covering the bed. “Kyros keeps pushing me to get back into the concert circuit, to get my mind off a baby.”

  “Do you want to?”

  “Actually, I have an idea, but Kyros doesn’t like it. I want to teach music at one of the academies. Doesn’t have to be Network-One. You probably haven’t heard about this, but we’ve seen more recruits with autistic tendencies lately. I think music lessons would help them.”

  “Considering the trouble those kids get into when they’re bored, I can’t imagine why not.”

  “Too dangerous, I’d get too attached, blah, blah, blah.”

  “Well, I hope you win, because it’s a cool idea.”

  They both smiled, knowing it was an uphill battle. Kyros was three centuries old and set in his ways, and Lyssa was as meek as a seasoned Harley biker. Naturally, they fought like hedgehogs.

  “So, how are you feeling, Cass?”

  “Lousy, but that’s not what I came to talk to you about.”

  Lyssa raised her brows but listened.

  “I assume Jack told Kyros about the stolen underwear prank, and he told you?”

  Lyssa nodded, her nose scrunched in distaste. “Scary, as in stalker-creepy.”

  “I’m asking for help with a plan, but first I need to know what Mr. X wants from me. Can you guess why would he tell Krav to kidnap me?”

  Lyssa lay back on the bed, her feet still on the floor. An odd thinking position. “Those orders came before the first manifestation of your valkyrie powers. Otherwise, I’d say he wants a pet lightning machine.”

  “Exactly. Why me? As far as extra-sentients go, I’m not very impressive.”

  “I dunno, Cass. The lightning through the fingers trick? Wicked cool.”

  “Before that.”

  “Don’t think in terms of weapons. Healers are rare, and you’re the best. Maybe he wanted to breed you. If we can’t find any extra-sentient females, I’ll bet they can’t either. He wants you to breed his evil extra-sentient army.”

  “Gross. But then why didn’t he try to steal you? You’re immortal and powerful, much better genetics, if that’s the point.”

  Lyssa scanned across the ceiling, as though she was speed-reading invisible text printed on the rafters. “We have to remember the timeline. Henry’s memory was before the landslides, maybe even earlier. At that time, a spy could have learned you were living on your own. There was also the scandal in the tabloids with me and Kyros. It was six months ago, but because of it the whole world knew I was pregnant.”

  “Except me.”

  “Sorry. You were going through your own trauma then; I couldn’t lay one more burden on you.”

  “I understand.” She appreciated Lyssa’s delicate reference to Cassie’s own scandal, the situation at Los Angeles USC which resulted in her dropping out of her residency.

  Kyros had intervened, doing a mindwipe on the parents of the child she operated on, the chief of surgery and all the nurses, and half the medical board of examiners. He confiscated hospital records and made dockets disappear from the county justice center. It was the biggest mess she’d ever caused, although it was only one of many. Her inability to behave normally at the heart of each disaster, she was what the Network termed: unintegratable.

  Cassie snapped her attention back to the present — Lyssa was talking.

  “ … Of course it’s just a theory, Cass, but it makes sense. Work the reasoning backward: Merodach’s main goal was to build an army of extra-sentients. That’s the reason he raped my mom, that’s why he came after me. He turned over operations in the U.S. to Mr. X. That’s a stupid code name, don’t you think?”

  Lyssa tapped her chin and thought aloud, “So, the only available extra-sentient female he could find was you, because I was already pregnant and kept under lock and key by Kyros. Mr. X tracked you and Jack to Coronado. He used Henry to draw you into an ambush, which failed. I’d like to know how he found you here so quickly, but he’s still trying to get to you. He’s biding his time since he knows he can’t get through Jack.”

  “So he’s going to keep pulling those stupid stunts until he goads Jack into doing something rash. That’s what all the taunting is about. He knows if he pushes the right buttons, Jack will lose it, and maybe get himself killed. That leaves me wide open, or so he thinks.”

  “Who was there when you killed Krav?”

  “Just me, Jack, and Henry. But I also lost my temper here a few weeks ago. At least a dozen clan members saw some blue lightning.”

  Lyssa pursed her lips, probably holding back a reprimand. “I doubt Mr. X knows what you are. Unless he has a source inside Kinmylies, he probably thinks you’re an easy target and doesn’t know you’re pregnant.”

  “I like the way you think. But he stole my underwear. He has resources. Of course, he could have used a brainwash victim. Let’s assume he thinks I’m vulnerable once he gets rid of Jack … ”

  Lyssa smiled, hearing the sum of her thoughts. “Devilish, Cass. You got balls. But I can’t help you with that. It’s just wrong.”

  “I’ll tell you what’s wrong. Waiting for a terrorist to kidnap more children and hurt them. Waiting for someone in Jack’s family to be next. If it’s me he wants, I say we let him have it.”

  “No way.”

  Cassie ignored her. “All you have to do is keep Kyros out of my way. If anyone can distract him for a while, it’s you.”

  “Even if I managed that, what are you going to do with Jack? He won’t let you out of his sight long enough for you to make it out the door.”

  “Let me handle Jack. Just be ready, okay?”

  • • •

  The same day Kyros and Lyssa arrived, Henry went missing. One moment he was sitting at a table in the library, and the next he was gone without a trace. Jack was beside himself, but hours of searching led only to the knowledge that the security equipment had been tampered with again, and it wasn’t Curtis, who had no recollection of doing it the first time. He was innocent, a brainwashing victim like the SEAL candidate who attacked Cassie.

  The next day, Jack and Kyros both got nicked by the sniper. An expression of impatience, grazing Kyros in the shoulder and hitting Jack on the inside of his knee, the bad one. Kyros hunted down the sniper’s nest but the shooter had slipped away, disappearing into the river again. This time the watch reported with certainty there was no boat on the water, but again, that’s where the trail went cold.

  The sniper left behind another piece of stolen clothing, this time a satin half-slip belonging to Neva. Cassie couldn’t blame the MacGunn clan for revolting against the Network. Only Kyros’ promise of protection calmed them. Sort of. On the bright side, the MacGunns finally took security seriously.

  By the end of the week, everyone was irritable and frus
trated over being cooped up and frightened half to death. Mr. X was a good terrorist, because he’d made them afraid of a nebulous threat, which thrived on their imagination. Cassie hated him doubly for that. Although only a few people knew she was the target of the operation, she still felt like Jonah on the storm-tossed ship. If someone didn’t throw her overboard soon, she would do it herself. It was time to take action. That is, if she could get rid of Jack long enough to do it. He’d been serious about following her into the washroom — nothing daunted or embarrassed him.

  The more she thought about it, she realized she would have to exploit Jack’s weaknesses to make her plan work. She felt ill, contemplating hurting him on purpose. When Tom, Hugh’s youngest son, was brought in with a bullet wound to the thigh, Cassie decided nothing else mattered. It was time to act.

  Her resolve hardened to flint as she operated on the boy. She stanched the bleeding and repaired the damage. Tom took it like a champ, but Neva was freaking out. Cassie worried the stress would affect the baby — Neva already looked bad. She only had days to go, she was in constant pain and beyond exhausted; this was the last thing she needed. Hugh wore a cold look in his eyes that scared everyone. Cassie hadn’t seen Ben for a while. That couldn’t be good.

  • • •

  Despite the impending doom, Cassie was having a good time. Neva’s complexion looked healthier after making short work of the chocolate-covered toffee Cassie had smuggled in. Lyssa ate a rye bread and roast beef sandwich, wishing out loud it was a chipotle turkey on focaccia with spring greens and Italian olives. Always a sandwich connoisseur.

  “Probably nothing like that to be had in the entire nation of Scotland.” Cassie teased, “Haggis, Lyssa. And porridge. That’s on the menu.”

  Neva laughed then whimpered, rubbing her huge belly. She pushed against the roiling baby who made his mother’s shirt move like a monkey on a waterbed. Cassie had seen the abused skin of her belly earlier, mottled with bruises and burst blood vessels. Her ribs were warped and cracked, they jutted out at unnatural angles. Cassie didn’t tell Neva, but she would need surgery to repair the hernias riddling her abdomen. Neva didn’t notice the pain from it on top of everything else. And she’d said this was the easiest one to carry, which blew Cassie’s mind.