Ascension: Nate Temple Series Book 13

by Shayne Silvers

  Except…

  I’d neglected to consider that Odin had also been gone for a long time, and that he was essentially a stranger to his own people—the perfect candidate for a switcheroo.

  Still, it was remarkable he hadn’t given himself away somehow.

  I’d obviously underestimated Loki…or overestimated Asgardian intelligence. Perhaps both.

  So, to see that Freya had successfully followed my shifty plan—without bringing all of Asgard down on her and Alice—made me ecstatic.

  Except I’d told Freya to bring her most trusted Valkyrie, Kára.

  Who might just be friends with Niko—the assassin with a heart of gold.

  I realized that everyone was staring at me, waiting to hear why I was here with an Elder.

  “I brought one of your princesses!” I called out to Alice.

  She grinned, her trepidation suddenly washing away, and then she raced towards us as fast as her little legs could carry her. She hit Carl in a full-bodied hug, and I saw him grin wide enough to strain the wire over his ridged lips.

  “Let’s go!” she commanded him, tugging at his clawed hand—which was easily as large as her face. Carl didn’t move, turning his head in my direction to get my approval. Again, no eye contact. Maybe it was just a respect thing, because I definitely didn’t want him to think that he had let me down or upset me in some way.

  I nodded, chuckling as I watched her immediately tug the terrifying Elder along behind her.

  Freya motioned me to join her by the tree, and I realized that she was alone—which instantly set off alarm bells in my head. But Freya looked calm and relaxed, so I tried to keep my face calm as I made my way over.

  “This is a dangerous place, Nate,” Freya said. “I thought you said we needed a safe place.”

  “Is it more dangerous than Baldur growing a pair and bravely deciding to slit her throat in her sleep?” I murmured softly, watching Alice serve Carl a pretend cup of tea in a nearby patch of thick grass. They seemed to have no problem communicating. “Or your throat?”

  She sighed. “I understand the necessity. I’m merely questioning the location.”

  “It was the best I could do on short notice, which was why I encouraged a bodyguard. The one who is now conspicuously absent…”

  Freya lifted a hand to point at a hill a hundred feet away from Yggdrasil and covered in trees and bushes—a great place for an ambush. “She asked me if she was permitted to speak with you in private, but I told her I had first dibs.”

  “Oh?” I asked, trying not to twitch.

  “I trust her over all other Valkyries, Nate, and I saw the way you flinched when you saw me standing alone. It was panic. What’s wrong?”

  I considered my response very carefully. “Concerned about her acquaintances.”

  Freya arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  I nodded, deciding to shift gears rather than elaborate. “How is she able to own a bar? On Earth.”

  “Midgard,” she corrected. Then she studied me for about five seconds, an amused smirk creeping over her face. “Do you not know her story? How Valkyries are chosen?”

  I shrugged. “Not the real answer. We haven’t talked about her past. She didn’t even mention that you were in charge of the Valkyries. And what does her past have to do with her bar?”

  Freya pursed her lips thoughtfully. “That is for her to explain, but I will tell you that she has only been a Valkyrie for a few years and has managed to earn more of my respect than any other in that short time. She reminds me of myself—when I was a younger, wilder, more passionate woman…” she trailed off, staring at the hill adoringly. I blinked at the goddess, wondering if I had heard correctly. “Even if that were not the case, there hasn’t been much need for Valkyries lately. Especially not with Odin missing for decades.”

  “Have you seen him since I was last here?” I asked. “Odin.”

  She shook her head. “Not since he took us back to Asgard, but he didn’t have more than single word responses to anything I asked him. He left Asgard almost immediately, leaving me to fend for myself. Didn’t even say goodbye. At first, I thought your fear for my safety was a slight overreaction, but after his strange behavior and then sudden departure, it only took me a few hours back home to see the dark undercurrents lurking in the halls. That’s when I began to like applesauce quite a bit more. I reached out to Kára, and we left without anyone noticing—they were too enthralled with their own plots and secret meetings to notice.” She frowned thoughtfully, growing silent for a few moments. “I believe he is growing paranoid, because he went through my private letters before he left. At least, I assume it was him.”

  I sighed, not wanting to tell her the truth for fear that she would run back to Asgard to raise an army—or a search party for the real Odin.

  “I should go see what Kára wanted.”

  “We will give you privacy,” Freya said, walking over to Alice. “But give her the benefit of the doubt. If not for her, do so for me.”

  I thought that was a little over the top, but I pressed on, wondering how I wanted to handle the situation. Being friends with Niko was not a crime.

  But it could be. Which was what I needed to find out.

  Chapter 36

  I found Kára seated before a pond in a cozy valley nestled between more rolling hills and looming trees. Her hair was not braided, spilling down the sides of her shaved head in a surprisingly wavy length that hung below her shoulders. She wore her armor, and her two different-colored eyes seemed to draw me in like magic, making my heart flutter at the level of happiness they showed to see me. She grinned brightly, and waved me over, practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

  Despite my concerns, I found myself smiling at her general outtake on life—her joie de vivre—choosing to take Freya’s counsel to heart. Kára had never given me a reason to distrust her, and I definitely didn’t want her making decisions about my character that were based on third-party acquaintances or incomplete rumors. She’d have to assume I was a monster.

  In fact, that was what I didn’t want Niko doing. Ah, ye old double standard. So I took a measured breath, flashing her a smile as I decided to give her the chance she deserved. I’ll admit that I was mighty curious about Freya’s reference to her short tenure as a Valkyrie. I’d always thought they served for eternity.

  I joined her on the grass with a sigh of relief, appreciating the soft ground over the crates in the warehouse. She was also more aesthetically pleasing than a lizard and three angry men.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked. “You had your grumpy face on back there.”

  I nodded. “I think so. Just learned some new information that confused me,” I admitted, choosing honesty. “Remember the first time we met?”

  She scoffed. “We didn’t meet. You trashed my place of business in a bar fight with Thor.”

  “We went outside,” I argued, smirking.

  “He took you outside, you mean.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah.”

  Kára grinned. “After your public argument with Baldur, I approached Freya about my concern for Alice. I didn’t want the girl tarnished by your dangerous reputation,” she teased. When I didn’t laugh, her smile flickered away. “I hope that’s okay.”

  I nodded stiffly, trying to make my smile look genuine. Because her words could be taken multiple ways. “Sure.”

  “Baldur is petty. He isn’t one to care about collateral damage if it gets him what he wants.”

  I nodded, struggling to find the most natural way to slide into my questions.

  “You look tense,” she said, scooting up behind me without warning. Obviously, my shoulders instantly tensed even tighter. “See?” she laughed, not waiting for an answer before her strong, delicate hands began kneading my shoulders.

  I groaned in surprise at her deft touch. “Wow, Kára.”

  “Your friend mentioned you were scheduled for a massage, but I bet I can give a better one,” she murmured into my ear, makin
g my body shiver as my hormones tried to grab hold of my decision-stick. She laughed, delighted by my response.

  Alucard had been lying about the massage, but it was cute for her to remember it. Her touch was like magic, her fingers hot, surprisingly strong, and delivering the perfect pressure. “Where did you learn how to do massages?” I mumbled, impressed.

  She pressed up against me from behind, rising up higher to get some leverage for a particularly difficult knot on my left shoulder blade. “I’m a Valkyrie, Nate,” she whispered, grunting as her thumbs finally worked out the stubborn knot, sending tendrils of icy heat trailing across the adjoining muscles. I groaned in relief. I felt her settling back down behind me, her chest brushing down my spine as softly as fingers dancing. “A warrior this tense is liable to pull his hamstring at the first charge,” she breathed. “Learning massage techniques is a necessary skill for a warrior to learn. As are many others,” she purred, working her way up to the base of my neck.

  Loose strands of her hair tickled my ear, and I reached my hand up on instinct to brush it away. My fingers touched her cheek and I froze like a startled deer.

  Her flesh was hot and, rather than pulling away, she leaned into my touch with a pleasant humming sound.

  My heart began to race again, and I wondered if I had grossly miscalculated our relationship. I carefully lowered my hand, pretending to ignore the disappointed sound in my ear.

  “This is nice, isn’t it?” she asked softly, her palms trailing down my neck and around the sides of my shoulders. She began to squeeze in slow, luxurious motions, working out my deltoids.

  “Mmmhmmm,” I managed, unable to talk as my feet began to tingle for some reason.

  I felt her chest press against my spine again as she leaned her chin onto my shoulder to whisper in my ear. “I do not believe you got a massage, Nate…” she said in mock disapproval. I heard her slowly lick her lips before she continued in a smoky tone. “Or you would not be this tense,” she explained, her inner thighs brushing both of my outer hips as her knees spread to bring her closer, allowing her soft, soft chest to press up against my back more forcefully. “Which means you never got your happy ending.” And she nipped playfully at my ear with her teeth, her full lips brushing against my flesh before pulling away. Then she giggled. “You are tense again. Why are you tense again?” she asked, not bothering to hide her amusement.

  I was panting and my tongue was tingling as my Spidey Senses suddenly gave me delayed warning that I had missed something rather obvious, forbidden, and unfairly tempting.

  I scooted forward, having to force myself to do so in order to even think clearly. I twisted around to see Kára sitting down behind me, not wearing armor.

  In fact, she was so good at not wearing armor that it took me a few seconds to process that she was actually wearing a thin, toga-like undergarment that ended scandalously high up on her thighs. Noticing my attention, her cheeks bloomed bright red. “This was all I had under my armor,” she explained, sounding embarrassed, “and that was getting in the way of the massage. I wasn’t trying to—” She cut off, and suddenly, the armor was back in place like a chastity belt.

  I nodded, keeping my eyes fastened on hers. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to stare. It just…caught me off guard,” I said carefully. Part of me was shocked to see the armor just magically reappear. But it was a very distant thought. Magic was for nerds, and whatever had almost happened was not for nerds.

  She smiled at me with a relieved grin. But I saw other emotions there, too. “On a related note…” she said softly, sounding both hopeful and shy, “I’m…not sure I know the words to explain how I feel about you, Nate,” she admitted, and I could tell that she was being entirely honest. Despite her unintended wardrobe malfunction with slipping off her armor, I could see that she felt nervous and vulnerable and dedicated…about making the first move. “But I would like to try and show you how I feel…” she trailed off, holding out her hand invitingly. Her fingers were shaking. “With a kiss.” She licked her full lips, and I realized they were trembling.

  Kára was a figurative goddess—the fact that she literally wasn’t one only made her more attractive, in my eyes. I experienced an internal civil war, and the North—my brain—prevailed, burning all bridges behind.

  The South—my manhood—would rise again someday, but not today. And it would hold a grudge for generations.

  I sighed, hanging my head and lowering my eyes. “You’re making it very hard for me to do the right thing, Kára,” I said, knowing that I needed to be extremely careful so as not to shatter her self-confidence, but to be true to—

  “Because of Callie?” she asked, cocking her head and sounding genuinely confused.

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “But…I thought that was over between you two?” I looked up at her sharply. She looked just as baffled as I felt. “The way you talk about her when we spend time together made me think it was over—or close enough as to make no difference.”

  I shook my head, ignoring the hesitation that tried to worm into my thoughts as I remembered my most recent encounter with Callie. How strained it had felt between us—even before I’d reprimanded her. Like a wall with a single window stood between us—and the wall was growing taller as the window grew smaller.

  Chapter 37

  I could tell by the look on Kára’s face that she obviously hadn’t intended to meddle. In fact, she looked downright humiliated—on the verge of running away in shame. I needed to handle this carefully, but I did need to be firm. I really liked Kára…really, really liked her. And I didn’t want to lose her because I had accidentally led her to the wrong conclusion about Callie.

  “No, Kára. It isn’t over with Callie. I haven’t said anything bad about her to you, have I? Because even if Callie and I were over, I would never talk poorly about her behind her back,” I said, scooting closer until our knees touched, and extending my hands in an offer to hold hers reassuringly. She had made a bold first move, and like a skittish horse, she was liable to run without a loving touch—a consolation prize of sorts. For the life of me, I couldn’t recall what she thought I had said about Callie.

  She let out a nervous breath, gently grasping my hands in hers. They were feverish. She took a deep breath and stared at me with her captivating dual-colored eyes. She blinked slowly, and I realized she had long, full eyelashes, making it difficult to focus. “You did not say anything cruel, Nate,” she reassured me, gently squeezing my hands. “It was more in how you spoke when talking about her. Your mannerisms. Every time you mentioned her, you always spoke in the past tense. How you never spent time together, for one reason or another. Or you always had an excuse for not going to visit her, or you would justify her not coming to visit you. In fact, you never once told me a story where you were together longer than five minutes without it being related to some battle against a common enemy.”

  The look on her face told me that she genuinely didn’t understand my relationship.

  And I realized…that she had a point. I had done all of those things. And not only had I implied them…they were also true.

  “You always spoke fondly of her,” Kára assured me, “but it was more like you telling me of a beautiful sunset you had once seen—it had been marvelous, but that the sun had also set. And whenever you did speak of your future, I never once heard you say we or use her name—unless you were speaking about your duties as a Horseman. You’ve been back for weeks and you never once tried to visit her, even though Alucard did—several times. I actually suggested you should surprise her for a dinner. Three different times. Instead, you chose to spend four hours with me at the bar…all three times. I thought it was a subtle hint…” she admitted, sounding hurt and apologetic, instantly self-conscious.

  I blinked at her, recalling those exact moments. Again…she was right.

  “I’m sorry if it came across that way, Kára. I just didn’t want to risk leaving St. Louis for too long. I had work to do,” I said, the words
feeling hollow, even to me.

  She nodded sadly. “You said that then, too. That you were both busy with work. But we did not talk of work even once. Any of those evenings. Do you remember what we did talk about?”

  I frowned, feeling guilty all of a sudden. Was I an asshole? What was I really feeling about Callie if my subconscious was out shopping behind my back?

  Then I remembered what we had talked about, and I felt somewhat vindicated. But…it was a shallow vindication. “I talked about how she never called me to arrange a meeting,” I admitted.

  Kára nodded with a sad smile. “Yes. That she was too busy for you, too. And did you hear how your just phrased that? Arrange a meeting. Not a date. And the word arrange?” she asked, sadly empathetic. “It sounds like you’re talking about business, not pleasure.”

  I nodded, realizing that she had another solid point. When I had seen Callie last night, I had definitely appreciated her beauty and her intelligence, but something had been missing that I hadn’t been able to identify. Had it been our spark? Had we neglected it so long that it had fizzled out? Because whatever I had felt had not been limited to me—I had seen a similar emotion in Callie’s eyes when she had looked at me.

  As if we were watching a bridge being built between us—and that it was growing longer with neither of us attempting to cross—content to merely make doe eyes at each other from across the chasm.

  “I wouldn’t have made my intentions known had I thought you were still an item,” Kára said. “As I admitted, I am not great with words. I’m a doer, not a talker.”

  I nodded. “It’s not you, Kára,” I said, feeling lame at the overused excuse, “but I obviously need to do some soul-searching. Maybe even…arrange a meeting with Callie,” I said, smirking weakly at my choice of words, hoping to ease the tension.

  She nodded sadly, staring down at our hands in silence. “I would like to hear how it goes…your soul-searching.”