Valkyrie's Call

by Michelle Manus

  “The geek side is the entirety of his brain,” Valkyrie pointed out.

  “Exactly. Anyway, he hasn’t stopped making me try to Track weird shit since then, so I figured I might as well get paid for it.”

  “So can I put you on the payroll?” Siren asked. Her big green eyes were entirely too excited for Valkyrie to turn down.

  “Fine,” Valkyrie said, and Siren let out a squeal. “But don’t be too disappointed when no one signs up to join the Valkyrie battle unit.”

  “Well,” Meredith said, ticking things off on her fingers, “we’ve killed a creepy scumbag, defeated an ancient evil spell, and gotten me and Val to get jobs. We should probably go drinking.”

  25

  Going drinking with Meredith was never a good idea. It was three days later and Valkyrie swore she still had a residual hangover. On the bright side, it gave her something to be miserable about other than the fact that Random still hadn’t come by. Or called. Or probably even thought thoughts in her general direction.

  She dropped the eight-by-eight glass dish containing the burnt husk of a casserole onto the kitchen counter and then opened all the doors and windows before the smoke detector could go off. She had decided that if she was going to be alone for the rest of her life, she might as well learn how to cook.

  Casseroles were supposed to be easy. The fucking Internet said so. They weren’t easy. This was her third attempt in as many days and she seemed to be getting worse with practice.

  In the open kitchen window, a flutter of wings announced Nelsen’s arrival. He’d started showing up a few days after she moved in, the bleakness in his falcon eyes telling her he missed Random just as must as she did.

  Nelsen gave the casserole an odd look and emitted a series of kaks that sounded like an alarm. Even the bird thought her cooking was shit. Not that he was wrong.

  “I’m doing the best I can, okay?” Her words did not reassure the bird. So much so that he flew off without listening to her ramble on. She rambled on a lot these days, and he was usually a very good listener, despite the fact she knew he didn’t understand a word she said. She figured he was probably just used to listening to a human talk, and she was the closest replacement he had for Random.

  A small zing went through her, a faint flicker dappling the property wards. Adrenaline spiked her veins. She had learned years ago that that slight ripple occurred when Random slipped past wards as if they weren’t there. It was so minuscule, it wouldn’t be felt unless a person was sitting around every second of the day hoping to feel it.

  She waited, listening, but there was nothing else. The adrenaline faded, replaced by disappointment. It wasn’t Random. She knew that. For one, he would have no need to sneak through the wards. Though he’d taken down the original property wards when he’d put the house up for sale, she’d keyed the new ones she’d put up to allow him through. If he wanted to come to the house, he could drive right up.

  He wasn’t here—it was just her imagination, wanting him to be.

  She’d read about people experiencing phantom phone rings even when their phone wasn’t in their pocket. This was like that. She wanted him to be here, so she kept inventing little signs that he was.

  She’d been hopeful, after seeing him at the adnexus’ breaking. Hopeful that his seeing her again would at least making him want to come yell at her, or something. She’d been so sure that, if nothing else, paying a million dollars for this house would guarantee he’d come back to tell her he didn’t need her charity.

  But Random hadn’t come home. Not to yell at her, not to forgive her, not to anything.

  She’d resisted the urge to buy a burner phone and call him. She’d made her gambit, and it hadn’t paid off. And she would respect the fact that he wanted nothing more to do with her if it killed her.

  She turned her back to the open door and surveyed the ruined casserole. Maybe it was only burnt on the top and the middle was edible? She twirled a dagger out of her thigh sheath and poked at the crispy top.

  “I think it’s already dead,” a voice said.

  She dropped the dagger and spun to the doorway. Random leaned against it, his hands shoved into the pockets of his faded black jeans. He was only relaxed on the outside. Beneath, he was tense, his usually warm brown eyes wary.

  She’d rehearsed what she would say to him so many times, but now that he was here, all the words fled her.

  “Do you want to come in?” She felt strange, inviting him into his own home. He hadn’t moved any of the house’s furniture or kitchen contents out before he’d sold it, and she’d told the realtors to leave it all. It was still his house, exactly as he’d left it.

  For a moment, she thought he’d say no, thought he’d turn right back around and leave. Then he stepped inside, looking around like he didn’t recognize anything.

  “I made coffee. Do you want some?” she asked, desperate to say anything to keep him from leaving.

  A shadow of the normal Random surfaced. “Is it safer than the casserole?”

  “I can make coffee,” she defended herself. She wasn’t entirely useless in the kitchen. She filled a mug for him, added a splash of cream to it like he liked, and set it in the counter. He walked to the counter but he didn’t sit down. He just slid the coffee cup to him and stared at the placid surface of the liquid. Then he looked up at her, and all the hurt and misery she’d felt since he’d left was mirrored in his gaze. She reached for him but halted midway and let her hand fall back to her side.

  She had to do this right. Her carefully planned speeches evaporated and a rawer honesty tumbled out. “I’m sorry. I never should have let you walk out that door.”

  “Then why did you?”

  “Because I’m fucked up, Random. And that’s not an excuse, it doesn’t make it okay, and I know that. I just… I hated myself. I couldn’t look at myself without seeing him, so I didn’t understand how anyone else could, either.” She took a deep breath, let it out. “And I thought you deserved more than that, more than me. Because you’re the best person I know and you deserve to be happy.”

  Random’s fingers tightened around the coffee mug. “Let me get this straight. You thought I was such a great person that you decided to hurt me as deeply as you could? When I was literally begging you to ask me to stay?”

  She made herself meet his gaze. “I wanted you to give up on me so you could move on. And now I’m terrified that you have and there’s nothing I can do to take it back.”

  “Do you know why I said I was done if you let me walk out?”

  She shook her head.

  “Because when it comes to me, nothing ever changes with you. I give you everything and I get one step forward and ten steps back.” He ran his hand in a frustrated pass through his hair. “Everything you’re telling me now—how do I know that doesn’t change in a week? A month? How do I know you won’t just lie to me the next time you decide what’s best for me? The next time you—”

  “I love you,” she blurted out.

  He went completely still. She couldn’t read the emotion in his eyes, but his voice was harsh. “You love me?”

  “I love you,” she repeated, the words foreign and wonderful at the same time. “And I’m a selfish asshole and I want to keep you even if I don’t deserve you. I’m miserable without you.”

  “You broke my heart, Kyrie.”

  She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut, but she wouldn’t run from this. From what she’d done. Not this time. “I know.”

  “You lied to me. So many times.”

  “I know.”

  “You took everything I gave you and you used it against me.”

  “I know.” Her voice broke. This was it. She had fucked it up beyond repair, and he was just here as a courtesy. He was here to say goodbye. Water blurred her vision, welled up and spilled down her cheekbones. Goddess, she could do without the crying. But ever since those floodgates had opened on the day he left, she’d never managed to shut them down again.

  Random st
epped around the counter to her. She froze. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking across her cheekbones as he brushed away her tears. She stopped breathing.

  “You destroyed me,” he whispered. “So why can’t I make myself hate you? Why is it that when you cry, all I want to do is make it better?”

  “Maybe we’re both idiots?”

  A smile tugged at the corners of his lips before it faltered and disappeared. “I love you, Kyrie. But you knew that. And I can’t go through this all again. I can’t think I have you just for you to turn around and break it all. I won’t survive, next time.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice broke. “And I know that ’‘sorry’ doesn’t fix anything. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me. But I love you so much. And I swear, there won’t ever be a next time. If you give me another chance and we don’t make it, it won’t be because of this. I’ll never lie to you again. I’ll never cut you out again. I’ll never send you away again.”

  “I want to believe you,” he said, something desperate and pleading in his voice. “But I don’t know how to trust you anymore.”

  She was torn between wanting to grab at hope with both hands and wanting to tuck her heart carefully into a box where she couldn’t be hurt if he decided he’d been through too much to trust her again. But holding back, always shielding herself—that was what had gotten her here in the first place. That was how she’d lost him.

  So she opened, instead. She took down every shield, mental and magical, and let her Aspect flow to him, let it surround him in a soft cloud, but she stopped just shy of touching him. She let the offer stand, and she waited.

  He hesitated. Then his Aspect unfurled, moving with hers, into hers, filling the yawning chasm that had opened inside her when she’d lost him. She didn’t try to hide her relief, or the misery she’d felt while he was gone. She laid it all bare, and though melding Aspect like this didn’t give two people the ability to feel each other’s feelings, she willed him to know hers anyway.

  As if wanting it badly enough could make it happen. And maybe it did, maybe his Aspect made it so he did. Because he exhaled sharply and stepped in, pulling her to him, his forehead resting against hers.

  “I missed you,” she whispered, “so much.”

  “I missed you, too.”

  “Don’t ever leave again.”

  “Don’t ever make me.”

  Her instinct was to answer that she wouldn’t, but she had to be honest with him now. Because she knew they weren’t final, yet, weren’t finished. “I have nightmares all the time,” she made herself say. “I don’t know if you’ll ever get a decent night’s sleep again around me. I’m controlling, I always think I’m right, and yet I paradoxically have abysmal self-esteem. If you stay, you’ll probably spend all of your time sleep-deprived, arguing with me, and then fucking me until I feel better about myself.”

  She held her breath, waiting for his answer. His hands worked soothing, promising circles up her back.

  “Kyrie, love, you may not know this about me, but I’m happy to fuck you whenever you want. I love arguing with you, and as for the sleep-deprived bit—I really don’t give a damn as long as it’s you I’m waking up next to.”

  She exhaled. “Does that mean you’ll come home?”

  “I already am, love.” And then he kissed her. She hadn’t forgotten the taste of him, hadn’t forgotten the exquisite mix of need and wonder that spread through her at the feel of his lips against hers, the glide of his tongue. But the memory—oh, the memory paled in comparison to having him here, having him now, having him touching her.

  Feeling that, every emotion coming back to her at once, she couldn’t stop from saying what she really wanted, even if it was foolish, even if it risked ruining everything.

  “There’s something else. Just one other thing,” she said. “I don’t want to be a Winters anymore. I don’t want that name, anymore.” Jace had decided the same, after everything that had come out about Elijah, and he’d taken the Savage name. Valkyrie hadn’t done anything yet. She’d been waiting, holding out hope for this, for now.

  Random frowned. “Change it to whatever you want, Kyrie. It doesn’t matter to me what your last name is.”

  She swallowed, and dove off the cliff. “And if I want it to be Tremayne?”

  Random’s heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t have just said what he thought she’d just said.

  She ducked her head, which had to be the first time he’d ever seen her not look a battle in the eye. “I’d understand if you said no. Goddess knows I’ve given you more than enough reasons to. And if you do say no, it won’t change anything between us.” She smiled, and gave him back the words he’d once given her. “I’ll take any scraps you’re willing to give me.”

  He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “Why, love, are you trying to make an honest man out of me?”

  “Well,” she considered, “you are the son of the Queen of Death. It’s in my best interests to do the honorable thing.” Her smile wavered. “So will you? Marry me?”

  He was more than a little surprised when his heart kept on beating instead of outright exploding in his chest. “I’d be honored to be your husband, Kyrie.” He tilted his head, considering her. “But I want a big wedding.”

  Her face blanched, the horror on it absolutely adorable. “Big?”

  “Mm-hmm.” He rubbed his nose against hers. “Extravagant, even. Consider it recompense for all the hell I’ve been through. I want everyone in this damn town to know you love me so much that you’ll get up in front of them in a nice pretty dress and say vows that only I can probably find endearing.

  “I don’t want to be your dirty secret anymore, Kyrie. I want everyone to know you think I’m worth something.”

  She cupped his face in her hands. “You’re worth everything, Random.”

  She couldn’t know how much those words meant to him, how much he’d needed to hear them.

  “If you want a big wedding, then you’ll have it. Just don’t expect me to plan it.”

  He laughed, the final bit of tension he’d clung to fading. “Not even I’m that delusional.”

  “Random,” she said slowly, her hands leaving his face to glide down his chest, his stomach, to settle at the waistband of his jeans. “My self-esteem is feeling low.”

  “Oh, no,” he said, his voice laced with mock concern.

  “Very, very low.”

  He backed her up against the counter, slipped his hands beneath her shirt to feel the warmth and strength of her. Then his hands roved lower and he dropped to his knees, settled between her legs, looked up at her and said, “I should probably do something about that.”

  Author’s Note

  Curious about that first time between Random and Valkyrie? That bonus prequel scene is available exclusively to my newsletter subscribers, and you can sign up and GET IT HERE. Fair warning, it’s a definite steamy scene, so if those are not your favorite parts of books, you may want to skip this one.

  If you enjoyed Valkyrie’s Call, do consider leaving a review at your retailer of choice. Reviews really are the best way you can help support your favorite authors.

  You can find me on my website michellemanus.com, or Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram if social media is your thing.

  * * *

  Thanks so much for reading!

  Also by Michelle Manus

  The Nyx Fortuna Series

  Guardian of Chaos

  Guardian of Shadows (Coming December 2021)

  * * *

  The Aspect Society Series

  Siren’s Song

  Valkyrie’s Call

  Truthfinder’s Promise (Coming 2022)

 

 

 
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