Sun's Tear (The Valkyrie's Passion Book 2): A Valkyrie/Shifter Romance

by Renee Jordan

  The second raven nodded and cawed. They could speak. I had talked to Muninn once before.

  “What do you do, Huninn?” I wondered aloud. “Muninn is memory. He watches and records. What do you do?”

  “Think,” Huninn answered. “You might want to try it, Valkyrie.”

  I let out a hiss. “That's all I've been doing. Sitting here and thinking.”

  Huninn cawed, “You have been pouting. Like a little girl crying in her tea. I can read your thoughts.”

  My heart tightened. Did he know I thought about killing Odin or that I had met Loki?

  “You worry for your Einherjer. You think this attack is a distraction that will get him killed. You worry and wring your fingers instead of striking out. You are Valkyrie. If you worry for your love's safety, then think of a way to protect him. Do not drown in maudlin thoughts.”

  He doesn't know what I was thinking. Not all of it. He must be guessing. He sees my body language and extrapolates what the cause must be. I decided to play along. “And what thoughts should I be thinking? Should I go to the Blood Eagles and ask politely that they stop?”

  Huninn ruffled his feathers. “You should think about killing them, Valkyrie. Your sword wasn't given to you to grow dusty with disuse.”

  My face paled. “What? You want me to go and kill them? They're not monsters.”

  “So?” The raven's head cocked. “You are like us. A raven. All Valkyrie are. You feast on the dead. So go and make your banquet. We shall join you.” A hungry gleam appeared in his round, black eyes. His dark beak opened wide. It was sharp, for piercing and tearing dead flesh.

  My stomach knotted. “Is that all I am? A creature that kills?”

  “Yes.”

  I wanted to throw up.

  “You and your Einherjer. He is even more of a killer. He wears the wolf's cloak. The pair of you could descend on these Blood Eagles and be done with them in heartbeats. Flesh is weak. Fire and claw are strong.”

  I grabbed a rock half the size of my palm off the ground, rose, and hurtled it at the raven. Huninn calmly side-stepped it. “Do my thoughts disturb you? Do you disagree with my counsel? These Blood Eagles attacked first. Why should you hesitate to kill them?”

  “Because this isn't the dark ages,” I screeched. “Magnus isn't really a Viking, and I'm no shieldmaiden eager to throw myself into battle and slaughter my enemies. That is not how it is done these days.”

  “You slaughtered Fenrir,” Muninn said. He had been silent, but now he spoke. “How is it different?”

  “He was a monster.”

  “Humans can be just as monstrous,” Huninn pointed out.

  “This is not the first time the Blood Eagles intended you harm,” Muninn added. “Talon tried to assault you when you wandered into their bar. If you had your powers awakened then, you would have cut him down.”

  “Because he was attacking me.”

  Huninn flapped his wings and descended from the electric cable. The raven landed on a brass casing missed by the police. He picked it up in his beak and flapped his wings a few times to land at my feet. He dropped it.

  “Is this not an attack, Valkyrie?”

  I stared at the shell casing, a pit hollowing my stomach. Early today, I had told Magnus I could kill the Blood Eagles if they attacked me. And they had. But to track them down and kill them in cold blood. That was not me.

  I would not do that.

  “Leave her be, Huninn,” a gruff voice said.

  My back stiffened. Odin had arrived.

  Chapter Four

  Raven

  I wasn't happy he wore the appearance of Owen. I mean, Odin was Owen, but I had liked the broken, grizzled Vietnam vet idling away his sunset years in the Boar Coffee and Cafe. He had seemed so friendly, not the man who would throw me into Utgard and so casually tell me he would destroy me if I failed to obey.

  My heart thudded as Odin strolled towards me.

  Odin wore the same army jacket, patches sewn on each sleeve of the 81st Armored Brigade Combat Team, a US Army National Guard unit stationed in Seattle. Their insignia was a raven, stylized like a Native American totem.

  Huninn and Muninn alighted upon Odin's shoulders, perching on either side of his grizzled face. Odin looked friendly. I didn't buy it. I folded my arms and waited for the one-eyed god to say something. He squinted that one good eye at me.

  “Still angry at me?”

  “I will always be angry at you,” I answered.

  “Fair enough.” He reached behind him and somehow produced a carved piece of wood, thin and narrow, as long as my arm, the end sharpened to a point. Runes decorated the length.

  “A spear?”

  “A javelin,” Odin corrected, pushing it into my hand. The pointed end sparkled in the light, the wood imbued with a golden stain there. “The weapon that killed my son, Baldur.”

  My hands stared at the glittering gold soaked into the tip. The blood I had seen across the road last week after I witnessed the glowing, wounded god stumble out of the brush and pass through my car.

  “His killer is moving against me.”

  “The Thief?” I asked.

  “Thief?” Odin furrowed his eyebrows. “Why did you say that?”

  “Heimdall called the...thing that killed him that. It was a walrus-creature. Fat and blubbery, with tusks and gray skin. And he was the Thief of something.”

  “Why didn't you tell me?” Odin demanded. The kind-hearted Owen vanished completely from his face. Only Odin, the God of Battle and Death, remained.

  I shrugged, unwilling to be bullied by Odin. “I had just fought Fenrir and almost died. It hardly seemed important.”

  Odin's fist clenched. “This...Thief may have killed my son, and he may have been the one who loosed the wolf Skoll to devour Sol, the goddess of the sun.”

  “The shadow that swallowed the sun was a wolf?” I asked. “Is this about the tear that fell from the sun?”

  Odin nodded. “Ragnarok hurtles towards us. This Thief seeks to end the Aesir.”

  “Aesir?”

  “The gods. Me, Freddy, the rest.”

  Maybe the gods should be killed. Why where they around? Mankind had grown past the need of them. They could just go away and leave us in peace.

  “That Sun's Tear has to be found. It is Sol's essence. It will allow her rebirth. It cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of this Thief.”

  “What is the Tear?”

  “Do you feel the chill in the air?” Odin instead asked.

  “Yes.” A shiver ran through me.

  “Sol, the sun goddess, has been consumed. The great ball of fire warming Midgard was, obviously, not harmed, but the embodiment of the sun was swallowed. Sol no longer shares her radiance and warmth. Her fire.” Odin poked me in the chest. “Your fire, Valkyrie. It is diminishing. Without finding the Tear, the power of the gods will continue to wane. We will be weak, and then this Thief can see us killed.”

  “Why can't you find it?” I demanded. “You have more power than I do.”

  “Yes,” he answered. “But there are rules. I cannot use too much of my power in this realm without consequences. The last time I unveiled my true appearance, to save you from Fenrir, the energy crackled across the world. Mighty storms were unleashed. Your United States had record outbreaks of tornadoes. Powerful hurricanes and typhoons ravaged the world. I unleashed all that torment, risked plunging the world into an ice age, all so I could save you.”

  Because I was important.

  “Why?” I answered. “What made me so special?”

  To my utter shock, he hugged me. I stiffened. “You are one of my Valkyrie. You are Sigrid's daughter. You are like my own granddaughter. I risked it to see that you would grow up.”

  And yet Odin had no problem letting me fight Fenrir as an adult, even though the beast had already killed my parents.

  “No other reason?” I asked.

  “None.” His beard was rough on my cheek as he gave me a kiss; my skin crawled. “I
know you are angry with me, but I do what I have to do to protect Midgard and humanity. I gave up my eye and was hung from the Yggdrasil to learn this wisdom. You need to stop being hostile to me and obey.”

  “I'll find the Sun's Tear,” I said, my fist clenched. “I really don't have a choice. Magnus and I are your slaves.”

  He pulled away and sighed. “Slave is such an ugly word. I prefer employee.”

  “Then we can quit?”

  Odin shook his head. “Not now. Not when you're needed.”

  We were his slaves. “How do I find the Tear?”

  “Can't you feel its warmth now?”

  I frowned. My cheek burned where his lips had touched me. My skin was still covered in goosebumps, but my right arm didn't feel as cold as my left. I turned and felt the warmth of the sun on my face in the direction the Tear fell.

  “Yes.” I sighed. I had no choice. “I'll find it.”

  “Good,” Odin said. “Muninn and Huninn will watch over you. Just like when you were in Utgard. You were never in danger until the end.” He paused. “I didn't know Fenrir would be unleashed. I expected you to fight Heimdall in a duel to prove your strength and win his approval to come back home.”

  Was that a lie? If we hadn't gone over, we might not have been there to fight Fenrir and save Odin's life when the wolf came for him.

  Why couldn't things go back to the way they were before the Frost Troll had appeared? I just wanted to be happy and held in Magnus's arms. Why did I have to be a Valkyrie?

  I needed Magnus. He had to know what was going on. The Cursed Stump was near the HEMA training center. As Odin departed down the road, I raced inside Magnus's apartment to grab the keys to his truck.

  Chapter Five

  Magnus

  “We need to hit them back,” Jim snarled, smashing his fist into the dark-stained table. His face was flushed. The chunk missing from his nose only made the man appear more dangerous.

  “Yeah,” Rick agreed. “Let's burn down their bar and when they come running out, gun them down.”

  “They want a war, we'll give them a war,” growled Vince, his hands stroking his thick, black beard. “We have our stash of weapons. They used full automatics on us. I say we answer in kind. Burn the bar and shoot them on the way out.”

  “And their women?” I demanded. “There's more than just Blood Eagles that hang out in their bar. We'll have no innocent blood staining our hands.”

  “Is there innocent blood in there?” Jim asked.

  Big Hoss glanced at me, his eyes tight.

  I smashed my fist down on the table. “If we start killing their ol' ladies, they'll start hitting ours. That's not how we act. We'll fight the Blood Eagles. We'll show those fucking pigeons what happens when you mess with a wolf, but I'll hear no more talk of hurting their women or other innocents.”

  “They have that brothel they give protection to,” Thomas, the Sergeant-at-Arms of the Black Wolves, pointed out. He leaned back in his chair, arms folded, relaxed. He always insisted on being called Thomas. “My pa gave me the name, so it's good enough for me,” he would say whenever someone tried to call him Tom or Tommy. “We can raid it, scare off the Johns and the girls, torch it. We'll make sure no one is hurt.”

  Big Hoss gave a low rumble. “That'll embarrass 'em.”

  “It's deep in their territory,” I said, considering it. “If they're smart, and I am assuming they are...” A few chuckled at that. “...they'll have eyes out for us crossing over into their territory. Your raid sounds like it'll take time. We might not have it. We could get caught penned up in the brothel. There's only one road up to it.”

  Thomas nodded his head in concession.

  “We need to put two in the hospital somehow,” Vince snarled. “They shot our prospect. Blood needs to be answered for.”

  “Yeah,” Thomas nodded. “We can't show them weakness.”

  “Anyone heard about Dwayne?” I asked. The kid was tough and eager to earn his patch.

  Big Hoss pulled out his phone and texted Sam who had gone to the hospital to keep tabs on Dwayne. Big Hoss had a fancy phone, touch screen, 4G and all that bull crap. I still used my old flip phone. I didn't see the need for all those apps and games.

  Just ways to rot the brain.

  A moment later his phone chirped. Big Hoss shook his head. “He's still in surgery.”

  “What other plans do we got?” I asked. “Something doable.”

  “Magnus, I'd like to reconsider the brothel hit,” Thomas said, leaning forward and clasping his hands before him. The Mötley Crüe t-shirt he wore stretched across his broad chest. “The problem is how long it will take to evacuate and burn the building, and that it will be sure to draw the Blood Eagles.”

  I nodded. “We're not going to be stupid. We're no shit-brained pigeons.”

  “Well, what if we turned that to our advantage.” A cruel grin spread across Thomas's face. There was a reason he was the Sergeant-at-Arms—he had a steely pair in his jeans.

  “How?” I asked.

  “The brothel's all by itself up Draws Road. Only one way in and out.”

  “Easy for us to get trapped,” Big Hoss pointed out.

  “Also easy for us to have an ambush. If, say, we leave most of the boys hidden in the woods. We wait for the Blood Eagles to race up the road and we unload on them.” Thomas leaned back in his chair, the wood groaning. “We hit 'em hard. We got the fire power. We'll show them not to fuck with us.”

  “Lot of heat,” I said, rubbing at my chin.

  “Nothing that the cops can prove,” Thomas smiled. “The weapons can't be traced to us. We wipe 'em clean of our fingerprints, wear gloves during the attack, and leave them behind. The boys who raid the brothel will have masks and can't wear their cuts. Only ones who will know are the Blood Eagles, and their survivors ain't gonna talk.”

  “Say what you will about them pigeon shits, they ain't gonna talk to the cops,” Big Hoss nodded.

  I chewed my jaw. “We have one guy shot, and you want to put their entire club down?”

  “That drive-by could have done a helluva lot more damage.” Thomas's face grew dark. “We were fuckin' lucky. A bullet almost took my head off. An inch over, and I wouldn't be here right now.” His eyes focused on me. “And what about your new ol' lady. She was there. What if she was the one in the hospital.”

  The wolf's rage howled through me. I let out a snarl. My hands clenched. He was right. They had tried to kill my Valkyrie. I slammed my fist down hard on the table. “Vote!”

  There was a splitting groan as a crack ran across the wood, splitting in half the howling wolf burned into the wood's surface.

  “Fuck, let's vote,” Big Hoss said, his eyes wide at the crack. The table was hard oak. I shouldn't have cracked it.

  ~ ~ ~

  Raven

  I had never driven a truck. It was...different.

  The cab was higher than a car, and I could feel all the weight of the vehicle as I drove it down the winding road into Maple Valley. And I had to work at turning the steering wheel. It didn't have power steering. Who made a vehicle without that?

  My shoulders grew sore as I maneuvered the truck.

  I reached the bottom of the hill where the road entered Maple Valley and waited at a stop sign for my chance to turn right. Some of my anger had left me as I shivered. I didn't like feeling cold. Something had gone wrong with the sun.

  Sol was dead. Her essence shed in a brilliant, golden tear.

  I glanced up at it. The sun seemed as bright as ever. The day felt warm, and yet I wanted to put on a sweater. The people walking through town all wore shorts and light shirts. I was the only one feeling the change in temperature.

  Odin was right. The sun was my power.

  Unless he was lying. He had lied to me ever since I knew him. He never told me that I was a Valkyrie or even that he knew my parents. He sent me off on my date with Magnus knowing it would end up with his death.

  I needed to tell someone the truth. I
wished I could tell Magnus, but with the temper the werewolf part of him possessed, the berserker, he might do something stupid. Like try to kill a god to free me. It was the stupid and so romantic thing he would do.

  But it would get him killed again. And my kiss wouldn't bring him back a second time.

  I would not have Magnus's blood on my hands.

  A car honked behind me. I blinked. The road was clear. Flushing, I did a quick right turn onto the street and drove through the heart of Maple Valley. I was pretty sure the Cursed Stump was this way. What a weird name for a bar. Why would anyone call their bar that?

  I passed the strip mall that housed the HEMA training center. Heat flushed through me as I remembered Magnus's strong arms around me. I glanced through the tinted windows. If we had lost control and made love, everyone would have seen us. Those windows were not tinted enough.

  A few blocks past the strip mall, on the edge of town, was the Cursed Stump. It reminded me a lot of the Blood Eagles' bar, though I wouldn't mention that to Magnus. The bar had wooden shingles and a gray exterior. Flashing neon signs for various beer labels filled the dingy windows. A line of bikes parked in front. A sign, sitting atop of a twenty-foot-high pole, showed a man in flannel kicking a gnarled stump.

  I pulled the truck into a parking space next to a sporty looking coup that definitely seemed out of place at a biker bar. There were a few other trucks, most dented and dirty, the paint faded by hard work. These weren't the trucks of guys showing off their supposed masculinity by buying the largest truck Ford had for sale.

  These trucks were owned by men that actually worked for a living.

  I climbed out of the cab, my stomach tightening. I had to let Magnus know what was going on. We had to find that Sun's Tear and fix things. I shivered again. My arms were covered in goosebumps.

  I pushed through the doors and into the bar. It wasn't what I expected.

  Sure, it was a bar with tables, booths, poor lighting, a small stage for a local band to play on, pool tables, and dart boards. It had a slight, stale smell of spilled bear. It was fairly clean. A jar of pickled eggs sat on the bar while an old man wiped at it with a stained rag.