Mia sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off her high-heeled shoes. He smiled at her and took off his suit coat, draping it over the back of the chair that sat at one of the room’s two vanities. He loosened his tie and began to open his shirt as he walked closer to her.
“You’re very beautiful,” he told her.
“Don’t pretend this is a love match,” she responded coldly. “You don’t need to compliment me or sweet talk me. I know what this is.”
He raised an eyebrow. “It was merely an observation, wife,” he said. “I’ll keep such things to myself next time.”
“Good.” He pulled his tie loose and considered it for a moment. She could practically read his mind. “Don’t even think it.”
He chuckled. “Don’t even think what?” he teased. “Tell me, what do you think I was thinking? It might be revelatory of your own state of mind.”
She stood and turned her back on him. “Zipper, please.”
Derek came close behind her and grasped the zipper tab, pulling it down slowly. “You’re pale enough to be a Draugr,” he said.
“I thought you were keeping your observations and compliments to yourself.”
“Who said it was a compliment? I prefer my women with a little blood in them.”
“Well, if you object, we can just call this off,” she snapped.
“Not so fast. Nobody’s calling a halt to anything.” He grabbed the dress and yanked it down off of her shoulders, using it to pin her arms to her sides. “Do the Dark Sisters bleed, I wonder?”
She should have fought against him, or said something sharp. Instead, she shuddered, and not from revulsion or fear. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she could feel Derek alter his stance behind her, pressing closer.
He whispered against the back of her neck, taking advantage of the access offered by her shorn locks. “What is this about, hmm?”
She started to pull free of her dress, but he held her fast, preventing her from moving. She had learned long ago that a Valtaeigr, even an immortal and ancient one, was no match for a vampire’s strength.
“Let me finish undressing and we can get this over with.”
Her words sounded stronger than she felt, and she was grateful that the fluttering in her stomach wasn’t telegraphed to her voice. He seemed to hear it all the same.
Derek gripped her arms tightly and pulled her back against him, his erection prodding her. He put his face against her head and inhaled deeply, and she shivered. He chuckled in the back of his throat.
“I see you, little Sister,” he said, his voice deep and thick. “I think you want power but only until someone can take it away from you. I think you want a man who can push you and pull you and take away your free will. Don’t you? I think you want a man who can control you.” He grabbed her earlobe in his teeth, piercing it with the sharp points until a tiny drop of blood welled up. He licked it away, and despite her best efforts to stay stoic, she moaned. “Oh, yes. I see you. I see you all too clear.”
“Fuck you,” she tried, but it came out sounding almost hopeful.
He wrapped one arm around her chest and the other around her hips, and he picked her up and put her face down on the bed. His weight pressed down on her, pushing her into the mattress and pinning her tight. She shivered again, unable to stop trembling. He dragged her skirt up and pushed her legs apart with his knees, and while she made a token grumble of objection, she obeyed.
He kissed her neck, his lips just above the pulse point. Bjorn had taken her blood many times, and she knew exactly where the fangs would go and how they would feel sliding in. She stayed still, yearning for that sharp invasion, wishing he would just bite her and get on with it.
Instead, he held here there, his chest against her back, the weight of his body keeping her in place, as if she would have tried to move. His hands busied themselves with her filmy thongs, breaking the elastic that held them together and tossing the garment aside. He stroked her with demanding fingers, and she whimpered.
“That’s the sound of a passionate woman,” he whispered to her. “That’s the sound of someone who likes to be held down and handled roughly.”
His finger breached her lower lips, and she moaned, “Hurry up and do it.”
Derek worked his fingers inside of her. “Hurry up and do what, wife? Tell me what you want me to do.”
“You know what I want.” Her words came out as little more than a breath.
“I want to hear you say it.”
Mia sighed brokenly, giving up the pretense. “I want you to fuck me. I want you fuck me so hard I can hear it.”
He laughed and complied. He pulled his hand free, and then he was sheathed inside her all the way to the root, thicker than she expected. He began to snap his hips, and the sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the room, accompanied by Mia’s ecstatic moaning. She came almost immediately, shrieking in her pleasure as he held her down.
“Oh, yes,” he panted into her ear. “Oh, yes.”
His fangs stabbed into her neck, and she cried out in aguish and delight, her eyes rolling backward. Penetrated by him in two places, she gave herself over to him completely, her magic enveloping them both. He grunted in surprise but kept his rhythm, slamming into her while he filled his mouth with her blood.
She could feel her magic sink into him, blazing a trail through his mind and spirit, leaving her essence everywhere it touched. She marked him as her own, binding his spirit to hers. He would never again be satisfied by any other lover. He would never again be happy unless she allowed it. She branded his soul with the glowing sigils of her power, her Hel-born gift raking into him and burning into everything that was truly Derek.
He came, filling her with his dead seed, and she felt his body quake. He moaned against her neck, his mouth still locked to her vein, and she blazed the final connection.
She whispered as he came down from his orgasmic high. “This is how a Dark Sister and Valtaeigr claims her man. This is how we are connected from now on.” His fangs slid out of her flesh, but their bodies stayed connected. “You are mine.”
Chapter Twelve
Erik pulled into the driveway at his mother’s home, his tires crunching on the gravel as he parked. Ingrid was kneeling in her flower bed, digging in the dirt, and she looked up with a smile when he got out of the car.
“To what do I owe this honor, Your Majesty?” she asked, grinning, wiping her fingers on her skirt.
He smiled back. “I need your advice.”
“Of course. Come inside.”
They went into her little house, and Erik sat at the kitchen table while Ingrid busied herself with putting a kettle on the fire. A bouquet of fresh flowers in a blue glass vase sat on the window sill, and their fragrance filled the room. The place felt peaceful and comforting, and he was grateful for it.
Ingrid sat across from him. “What’s troubling you?”
“Nika.”
She looked surprised. “In what way?”
“She doesn’t trust me.” He leaned back in his chair, his hands falling onto his thighs. “She says she’s been testing me to see if I’ll listen when she tells me she doesn’t want to make love. It’s like she thinks I’m going to turn into some sort of ravening beast…”
Ingrid nodded sagely. “And this hurts you.”
“Of course it does. After everything I’ve gone through, all the years I’ve spent waiting for her to reappear… how could she think I’d ever hurt her?” He shook his head. “You would think she would know me by now. I don’t know how to react. Mother, help me. What do I do?”
“You pass the test.”
“That’s it?” he asked, dismayed. “I just accept this insult and roll over?”
She met his eyes with a steady gaze. “If you want to keep her, yes. Surely she’s worth humbling yourself a little.”
He frowned. “I’m so tired of her not trusting me. This keeps coming up again and again.”
“Trust is hard to earn,” she said. The kettle be
gan to whistle, and she rose to pour some tea. “Once you’ve earned it, she will be yours completely. This is just one last hurdle. Surely you can cope with a little denial.”
“That’s not the point. I’m not upset about the lack of sex. I can live with that. It’s the lack of trust.” He sighed. “But you’re right… she’s worth it to me to put up with this.”
She put a cup in front of her son and sat down with one of her own. “Love and marriage aren’t easy. People think that once you fall in love, that’s the end of it, and it’s all hearts and flowers from then out. But it’s not. You have to work at relationships, and you have to keep winning your love every day.”
He smiled ruefully. “I’d be satisfied with not feeling like I’m losing her every day.”
Ingrid took his hand and squeezed it. “Erik, this is only temporary. I promise you. Once she sees that you are the man she wants you to be, she will be satisfied and the tests will end.”
“I hope you’re right.”
She grinned. “Between the two of us, which one of us knows women better?”
“Point taken.” He chuckled. “There’s another thing.”
“I thought as much. You’d never come to me for just one question.” She sipped her tea. “Let me guess. Mia.”
“Yes. There’s a witch from Russia named Vladimir who wants to hunt her. He says he’s killed all of the other Dark Sisters. Is this true?”
Ingrid’s eyes unfocused for a moment as she called upon her Valtaeigr abilities. Finally, she nodded. “It’s true. She is the last. Vladimir, you say?”
“Yes.”
“Be careful of him. He’s a powerful witch hunter and not to be trifled with.”
He frowned. “Witch hunter? Not a witch?”
“No. He’s a warlock, not a witch. He has witch-like powers, but he uses them against the witches. He is a traitor.”
Erik nodded. “Then I should eliminate him. He’s a threat.”
“Not to you.”
“No, but he might be a threat to the Valtaeigr, and I can’t have that.” He cupped his hands around the tea cup, not interested in drinking it but enjoying the warmth. “If he kills Mia, he may turn to you and your sisters next.”
“It’s entirely possible,” Ingrid agreed. “But you will not be able to destroy him. Only another magic user can do that. I think you know who I mean.”
“Nika. The Rune Master.”
“Yes.”
“She won’t kill him. She’s on his side.”
Ingrid raised an eyebrow. “For now.”
They were quiet for a long moment, Ingrid drinking her tea, Erik holding his. Finally, he said, “One more thing.”
“Ah! The trifecta.”
He smiled. “The young ones in Stockholm are completely addicted to the faery dreyri. They don’t even hunt anymore. Nika thinks we should slowly wean them off of it, water it down with other blood and serve them that way, but I think we should just destroy it all.”
“Bad idea.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll have a revolt on your hands. I know you want the young ones to live like proper Draugr, but they need to be hand-held to get there.” She finished her tea. “If they’re truly addicted, and if you deny them their fix, then there will be chaos. You already know this.”
“But will weaning them do the trick?”
She took her cup to the sink. “It should, as far as getting them off the juice.” She rinsed the cup and then came back to her seat. “What else?”
“Paris. Derek Dupin has taken all of the city because Laurentia Moselle has been here. I told her that she had to fight beside me to take her territory back, and in return, I get her vats and her relics and everything.” He swirled the brown liquid in his cup. “She’s not the fighting kind. She’s not going to be able to take her city back. Should I take it back for her?”
“No. Take it back for yourself. But remember - Vikings have historically had a terrible time in Paris.”
He smiled at a distant memory. “I don’t know. I remember enjoying the place, and we got what we wanted.”
“Of course you did.” She folded her hands on the table. “What else?”
Erik smiled. “I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
“Well, when you do, you know where I am.”
He went to the sink and poured his tea down the drain, then rinsed the cup as she had done with hers. “I saw Gunnar,” he said, not turning around.
He heard Ingrid gasp at the sound of her dead son’s name. “His spirit?”
“Yes. In his house.” He turned and leaned against the counter. “He said he came with a message from Odin.”
Her eyebrows shot up toward her hairline. “Indeed! And what was this message?”
“‘You cannot go forward and backward at the same time.’”
“There’s logic to it, certainly.” She put her chin in her hand. “What do you think he meant?”
Erik shrugged. “I was hoping you could help me.”
She considered the question for a moment. “Well, the most obvious thing is that you can’t go back and try to be a father to Mia now. The second most obvious thing is that you must remember that Nika is not Berit, even though the soul is the same. You can’t expect her to behave the way Berit would have. She’s been reborn and has a new life now, and a new personality.” She looked into his eyes, and he could feel her peering straight into his soul. “You need to ask yourself if you love her because she’s Nika or if you love her because she used to be Berit.”
Her words made him go cold, either with anger or with regret. He couldn’t say. “Of course I know that. I love Nika for who she is, not who she was.”
“Just be sure of it,” his mother said softly. “Be very sure.”
He ran a hand over his face, a hundred contradictory thoughts and emotions roiling inside of him. He muttered, “Why did I ever think being king would be a good idea?”
Ingrid went to him and put her hands on his shoulders, and for a moment he felt like a child again. He pulled his mother into an embrace, and she rubbed his back as she reassured him.
“You wanted to be king because you knew that your people needed a leader, and because you knew that you were the right man for the job.” She pulled back and cupped his face in her hands. “You are smart, and strong, and you have a good heart. You will be the best king they could ever hope to have.”
“Thank you, kära mor,” he said.
She kissed him on the cheek. “You haven’t called me ‘dear mother’ since you were a little boy.”
She looked so touched that he wondered why he’d been stingy with his affection for all these years. “I think it’s overdue,” he whispered. He kissed her forehead. “You’ve always been good to me, even when my father wasn’t.”
“Your father was a hard man,” she nodded. “He was very rough on you and your brothers.”
“Just rough enough for the time. He made us strong.”
“Perhaps.” Ingrid stepped back and looked into his eyes again. “When the time comes to face Vladimir, or to face Mia, I will be at your side. I will help you and Nika overcome this challenge.” She smiled. “And maybe I’ll call my future daughter-in-law and tell her a thing or two about trust.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” She patted his chest. “Have I ever told you that you’ve always been my favorite?”
He smiled, warmed. “No.”
She winked at him. “Good.”
Like so many other things between them over the years, the words were left unsaid, but the intention came through loud and clear.
***
Mia sat in Derek’s office as he received the good wishes and wedding gifts of two of the more powerful Draugr left west of the Seine. She ignored the vampire politics, uninterested as long as they knew who was in charge. Derek accepted their obeisance with noblesse oblige, then sent them on their way.
She looked up when they were alone. “When do we de
clare ourselves to my father?”
Her husband looked startled. “Declare ourselves in what way?”
“As opposing him for rulership of the Draugr, of course.” She stood and strolled to where he was sitting, hitching her hip up onto his desk and letting her miniskirt ride up to show her trim thigh. “He’s unfit to be king, and I can cast magical rings around his so-called Rune Master. We need to depose him.”
He smiled at her, his dark eyes glinting. “You’re ambitious, that’s certain.”
“Without ambition, you stay what you always were.”
“The daughter of a slave, born in slavery?” he needled.
“Yes,” she said. “Or a failed priest with a habit of using the confessional for sexual liaisons with parishioners.”
“Touché.” He leaned back and smiled at her. “I’m impressed that you know about my past. Have you been asking after me?”
“The Valtaeigr in general and the Dark Sisters in particular make it our business to know all of the power brokers in the supernatural community.” She shifted to sit in front of him, her feet on the arms of his chair. She was giving him a good look at the part of her he liked the best. “I know a great deal about all of you.”
Derek smiled. “I’m sure you do.”
***
Nika brought Tamara to the house in Stockholm, parking the Aston Martin in is designated slot in the Bat Cave. She opened the door and carried in her friend’s bags, which she put on the floor at the foot of the stairs.
“Welcome to our house,” she said. “Boy, have I got a hundred things to tell you.”
“You can start with telling me how you got to be so strong,” Tamara said. “In St. Louis, you needed help taking out your garbage.”
“Ha! I was never that bad!”
She smirked. “Maybe not, but you were never like this. Am I going to have to check you for blood doping or something?”
“Sort of…”
Nika hesitated, not at all certain how to proceed with this. She wanted to tell her the truth, needed to tell her, but she didn’t know how to go about it.
“Show me around,” Tamara said, saving her from the moment.
She gave her the fifty-cent tour, taking her through the airy rooms upstairs and down, ending by taking her out into the back yard where she had put in an herb garden. Her friend nodded, impressed. “Nice. Small, but nice.” She grinned at Nika. “No nursery?”
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