Perfekt Order (The Ære Saga Book 1)

by S. T. Bende

  “Oh. Right. So now you’re doing the job your dad and this Odin guy had?”

  “I oversee all major threats to my… country, and I protect its most sought-after treasures. If they fell into the wrong hands, it would absolutely devastate the peace we’ve worked to build.”

  Tyr’s statement raised a cluster of concerns. What was Sweden doing entrusting it’s national security to a guy who was barely old enough to vote? And why had they given him time off to come to the States? I studied Tyr’s face as he frowned. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” He raised my wrist to his lips. He sucked softly on the sensitive skin, and I let out a quiet sigh, my laundry-list of questions momentarily forgotten. Blood pooled deep in my belly, and my cheeks tingled with prolonged anticipation. When Tyr spoke again, the movement of his lips resonated against my arm. “I’m hungry.”

  Oh. My. God.

  The waitress chose that moment to appear with our food. She dropped my plate in front of me with such force a french fry bounced onto the table. But she placed Tyr’s carefully in front of him, lowering herself slowly so her cleavage was positioned as close to his face as decency would allow. “Anything else I can bring you?” she drawled.

  “Mia?” Tyr raised one eyebrow.

  “We’re good, thanks.” I shot her my sugary-sweet smile. She glared at me and stomped off.

  “I do not think she likes you very much.” Tyr chuckled as he pushed his plate toward me. “Here. Trade. I don’t want to know what she did to yours.”

  “You don’t have to eat it,” I protested. But he held up a hand.

  “Take the cheeseburger, woman.”

  I slid my plate in front of him, gratefully. “Thank you.”

  “All in the name of romance, prinsessa.”

  “You’re not half bad at the romance bit, Fredriksen.”

  “So I hear.” He chuckled. He picked up a fry and took a bite. The intensity in his eyes while he chewed made me pause. There was obviously more to Tyr Fredriksen than I might ever know. As I bit into my burger, I ran through every possible scenario. He was a mutated super-warrior. He could predict stock trends and print his own money—it would certainly explain the fancy house and designer furnishings. He was a superhero. The ideas continued as we talked and ate, and even as Tyr paid the bill and we walked to the motorcycle, each possibility increasingly more bizarre than the last. But my obsessive train derailed completely when I again climbed onto the motorcycle and wrapped my arms around Tyr. It was on the back of that bike, my arms wrapped around my date, that my mind jumped onto an entirely different track. And it didn’t shift focus until after Tyr dropped me off, with a long, lingering, front-porch kiss.

  ****

  That Friday night date was the start of my new normal—my somewhat bizarre, definitely unexpected, ridiculously fabulous, normal. The next week, Tyr picked me up when I finished at the engineering lab, and we headed to his place with Henrik and Brynn to cook dinner together. It became our Tuesday and Thursday night tradition, and we’d alternate my heartier Southern meals with Henrik’s lighter Scandinavian ones. Weekends were for hiking, watching movies, or hitting the beach. We’d bring picnic dinners over to Elsa’s, who seemed to respond to the company; several times when I was there, her vitals spiked with marked improvement, and once I even saw her mouth twitch in a smile. Her condition was improving steadily, and there had been no mention of any more dangerous sightings in the woods. I was no closer to figuring out exactly what Tyr’s job entailed, but the upside of spending so much time with him was that his secrecy didn’t bother me as much as it used to. He was letting me into his life as much as he was able, and I was learning to make peace with the fact that his mysteries would unravel themselves in due time.

  At least, I seriously hoped they would.

  On a Friday afternoon in late October, Henrik, Brynn and I were pulling an extra session in the lab. Henrik bent the prosthesis’ finger back and forth and grinned at me.

  “What?” I handed him the solvent and he poured some over a swab before wiping down the robot.

  “I’m just glad Tyr got over himself and started dating you. He’s been decidedly less obnoxious since you came into the picture.”

  “You said it.” Brynn looked up from her notebook, where she’d made great headway on the algorithm. “Dating you has brought out a kinder, gentler, less irritable Tyr.”

  Brynn and Henrik looked at each other and burst into laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “Can’t explain. But if you’d known him all your life like we have…” Brynn gave in to a fresh bout of hysteria.

  “Sorry.” Henrik wiped his eyes. “Hand me that wrench, would you?”

  I did as instructed and tried not to feel left out.

  “And speak of the devil.” Henrik winked. “Tyr says you guys have plans tonight.”

  “He said to dress warm. Any idea where he’s taking me?”

  “Yep. I helped him pack up.”

  “Pack up? Are we going away?” I tried not to panic. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for a sleepover. Tyr had been opening up more about his life before Arcata, and he was sexy as sin, but I still didn’t know if I was ready to sleep with him. I wanted to, I wasn’t made of stone, but he had this whole secret world with his sister and his job that I couldn’t begin to understand. How could I let him in on that level without understanding exactly what made him tick?

  “You wish you were going away,” Brynn teased. “Tyr’s hot. Soooo hot.”

  “He’s okay.” Henrik muttered.

  “He’s more than okay. You’re hot, too. But you’re an intellectual hot. The brains, the wild hair, the glasses—definitely a bookish hot.” Brynn conceded.

  “Which is sometimes better than the non-bookish hot,” I offered, relieved I still had some time to decide whether I wanted Tyr to be my first… well, my first everything.

  “Charity will get you nowhere. Work harder, ladies. Fred isn’t going to finish himself.” Henrik adjusted his glasses and attached a tiny screw to the arm.

  “We’re still calling it Fred, are we?” I exhaled, relieved the focus was off me.

  Henrik bristled. “Yes, we are. Fred was a very special dog.”

  “Okay. Truce.” I held out my hand, and he took it.

  “Truce. Oh, and Mia? You’re welcome for the marshmallows.”

  He grinned as I blinked. What the heck did that mean?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “YOU LOOK AMAZING, PRINSESSA.”

  Tyr stood on my porch with a handful of purple peonies. He was perfection in fitted jeans, a grey Henley, and his leather jacket. He let his eyes linger over the neckline of my tight sweater before holding out the bouquet. Score one, LaPerla.

  “Thank you.” I took the flowers. “These smell great.”

  “So do you.” Tyr wrapped his arm around my waist and dipped me back, planting a feather-light kiss on my lips. My head spun as he pulled me up. He eyed me levelly. “You gonna make it?”

  I laughed. “You’re trouble.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Let me just go put these in water.” I darted into the kitchen, and put the peonies in a slim vase. It would have made sense to have a vase waiting at the door; Tyr rarely showed up empty-handed. Still, it took me by surprise that the bad boy who employed a team of armed guards for protection was sweet enough to bring me flowers. Tyr wasn’t turning out to be at all what I’d expected. He was much more thoughtful than he wanted people to believe, at least from what I’d seen during the last few months. Something told me I’d only scratched the surface.

  As I walked back through the front door, Tyr held out his arm. He walked me to the street where the gleaming black motorcycle waited.

  We made it to town in record time, and by the time Tyr slowed to the speed limit, my heart was pounding a beat worthy of a college-bowl-game halftime show. He must have felt it through his jacket, because he reached around and pressed me against him with on
e hand, then slid the same hand slowly down to my behind. He gave a firm squeeze and returned his hand to the handlebar.

  Oh, hot bejeebus.

  We kept our speed low as we moved through downtown. The little shops lining the quaint street were picturesque in the cool night. Couples strolled casually in and out of the diner, and I wondered if we were going to one of the three restaurants in town, but when the light turned green, the bike revved again.

  We passed through the main hub, and Tyr took the road that led down to the beach. The beach! Now his suggestion to dress warm made sense. The shores of northern California were downright chilly at night.

  Tyr brought the bike to a stop and swung a long leg over the side. He wrapped his fingers around my arms and guided me off the seat. When he pulled off his helmet, his grin lit up the whole beach. It would have been buzz kill to mention my legs were the consistency of Jell-O.

  “Thought I was going to lose you for a minute back there.” He lifted my helmet from my head and hooked it to the seat. I fluffed my hair while his back was turned.

  “Uh-huh.” I straightened up. “And you thought you’d secure me by fondling my tush?”

  “Kept you on the bike, didn’t it?” Tyr winked. He pivoted with his shoulders pulled back, his eyes combing the beach so intently, he could have memorized the specs on each grain of sand. Although his back was to me, I heard the low rumble of his voice a half-second before I saw the light. It appeared overhead, then whirled around in a blur, encasing the beach in a pale green bubble. My squeal echoed across the sand as the illusion disappeared.

  “What in the name of all that’s good and holy was that?” I blurted.

  Tyr turned around. “What?”

  “That!” My finger jabbed at the air. “That… crazy light thing?” Tyr’s litany of cryptic comments ran through my mind like a newsfeed on fast forward. “Hold on. You mumbled something just before it happened. Did you do… whatever that was?”

  “What are you talking about?” Tyr furrowed his brow.

  My words tumbled out. “Did you do that?”

  Tyr placed his hands on my shoulders and squeezed. “Baby, if you saw some crazy light thing, it was probably the meteor shower. It starts tonight, remember?”

  “This didn’t look like a meteor shower. It looked like a Northern Lights thing. Like what you guys get in Scandinavia.”

  Tyr shook his head. “Arcata’s not far enough north for that kind of atmospheric phenomenon.”

  “You’re avoiding the question.” I waited.

  Tyr sighed. “Listen, baby. I need to make sure the guy hunting my sister doesn’t come after you. Henrik thinks he saw him in the woods again today, so we’re being extra careful. That’s all you need to know.”

  “Why can’t you tell me what I saw?” Ignoring the shiver that crept up my spine, I let irritation at Tyr’s secrecy trump my fear at Elsa’s attacker being close. Again.

  “Because it would take too long, and dinner would get cold. Come on.” Tyr grabbed a bag off the back of the bike and slung it over his shoulder. He laced his fingers through mine and tugged me toward the sand.

  My mind swam with questions, percolating to the point of being overwhelming. If the light hadn’t been a bad thing, why wouldn’t Tyr just tell me what I’d seen? Did he have some hidden flare gun, or illegal fireworks? How would either of those keep Elsa’s would-be killer away? And why did so much of his life still have to be such a big secret?

  “Tyr.” I broke our silence as we rounded an outcropping of rocks and entered a small cove. “Do you trust me?”

  “Implicitly,” he swore.

  “Then why won’t you tell me what just happened?”

  Tyr sighed, and pulled a small plastic tube out of his pocket. It looked like a lighter. “Because I don’t want you to laugh at me. I know you think I’m overprotective. I haven’t forgotten our first run together.”

  “You are overprotective. This is not news.”

  “Regardless.” He held up the lighter. “Henrik designed this. It’s a kind of refractor. It bends light in a fifty-yard circumference around the spot it’s activated, so anyone outside its reach can’t see what’s happening inside its reach. Meaning if Henrik really did see the guy hunting my sister today, we don’t have to worry about him seeing you with me right now.”

  “Seriously? Henrik made that?” I stared at the device. “He’s a genius.”

  “He likes to think so.” Tyr shrugged, putting the refractor back in his pocket. “So that’s it. I trust you. Henrik’s a nerd. We’re safe from the bad guy in here. Now can we please eat dinner?”

  “Of course.” Thank God. My imagination had started to come up with some pretty unbelievable explanations for Tyr’s strange behavior, none of which were all that comforting. Leave it to the Math Club and Henrik’s obsession with technology to set order to my mental chaos.

  “Good.” Tyr tossed his bag on the sand, then pulled out two blankets and an array of food. He laid one blanket on the sand and started unpacking dinner: focaccia sandwiches with turkey, avocado, and cheese, and a steaming foil container, plates, forks and napkins.

  “What’s in the foil?” I sat on the blanket.

  He lifted a corner of the lid and I breathed in the scent. “Mmm, mac and cheese.” It wasn’t the boxed variety. This looked as if it had been made from scratch. It even had breadcrumbs on top. “Is that… bacon?”

  Tyr winked.

  Oh, yum.

  Tyr sat next to me and held out the second blanket. He wrapped it around my shoulders before handing me a plate. He piled food on top and passed me a bottle of sparkling water, then filled a second plate for himself and raised his own bottle to mine. “Skål. Cheers.”

  “Cheers.” We clinked bottles and took a drink, then I tucked into the food. “This is amazing. It’s so savory. I’m impressed.”

  “You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Tyr said wryly.

  I took another bite. The cheese was the perfect mixture of tangy and smoky—Gouda was my favorite. “You should do more of the cooking from now on.”

  “I don’t look nearly as good as you do in an apron. Besides, you like to be in control in the kitchen.” Tyr leaned over with a lascivious grin. “It’s hot.”

  I ducked to hide behind my hair, but Tyr tucked the strand behind my ear.

  “You’re så förbaskat beautiful, Mia.” He let the words linger. When I finally broke eye contact, every nerve in my body buzzed.

  My fingers trembled as I picked up my sandwich. Tyr did the same, and we chewed in silence, staring at the waves crashing ten yards away. When we finished eating, I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my head on Tyr’s shoulder. He wrapped an arm around me, gently massaging my lower back. I closed my eyes, trying to commit every detail of this moment to memory.

  “How’s Elsa?” I ventured.

  Tyr let out a breath. “She’s having a rough day.”

  “Oh, Tyr.” I circled his waist with my arms and squeezed. “What happened?”

  “I have no idea. She was doing well for a while.”

  “I know. Last week, she had more color in her cheeks. It almost seemed like she was just sleeping.” I nuzzled against his chest.

  “Yeah.” Tyr rested his chin on the top of my head. “Her vitals have been volatile since yesterday. Her doctors don’t know what’s wrong—none of her treatments have changed, and her internal injuries have been stabilized for weeks. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Is there anything you can do?”

  “I’m doing everything I can.” Tyr’s agony came through in his voice. “I just don’t know how much longer she’ll be able to hold out. Her cell counts are… she’s not doing great.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “Do you want to go see her right now? I’ll go with you.”

  “No. I went this afternoon. Henrik’s with her now. I think my energy was actually making her worse. I get pretty upset when she takes a dive.”

  “I’d be exac
tly the same if anything ever happened to Jason.” I squeezed Tyr’s waist again and his mouth brushed the top of my head.

  “Just be careful, okay?” Tyr’s lips moved against my hair.

  “Always am,” I promised.

  Tyr lifted my chin with a finger and kissed me softly. When he pulled back, his eyes were considerably lighter. “Help me find some driftwood. I thought we’d make s’mores. I’ve never had one before.”

  “Do you even know how to make them?”

  “Henrik gave me some pretty detailed instructions.” He rolled his eyes, and I laughed.

  “Let me guess—step one, build a fire with birch strips configured in the perfect teepee shape, covering exactly four pieces of wadded-up newspaper for kindling. Am I close?”

  “Frighteningly so.” Tyr held out a hand to pull me up. “Help me look for those birch strips, will you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  We strolled along the beach, hand in hand, pausing to pick up pieces of driftwood that looked reasonably dry. When we’d collected enough to start a small fire, we headed back to our blanket. Tyr arranged the wood in a small pit and pulled the lighter out of his back pocket.

  “I thought that was the magic light bubble thing?” I questioned.

  “It’s multi-functional.” Tyr flicked the trigger, but the breeze snuffed the flame. His brow furrowed, and he tried again. And again. He stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and bit down, glaring at the lighter.

  I let out a giggle.

  “This funny to you?” He looked up.

  “Yes,” I admitted. Seeing my cool, capable Hercules bested by a piece of plastic was priceless.

  He didn’t swear. Didn’t throw it into the surf. Instead, in true Tyr fashion, he simply returned to his task, manipulating the tiny device long after it was obvious the thing wasn’t going to cooperate. It was a matter of pride at this point, and I knew things well enough to know he wasn’t backing down. He might have been the only person on the planet more stubborn than me.