by Eve Langlais
The lack meant using human methods to travel. Such as helicopters, which were made for smaller people. Vikings tended to be a strapping bunch.
The pilot kept cursing. “Stop your fucking moving around or I’ll set you down right here, right now.”
“Calm yourself,” Jory said to the man. “We are almost there.” He kept an eye on the screen displaying a map and a blinking red dot.
“I can see the lights of the convoy,” Neil announced. “It doesn’t appear to be moving.”
“Odd place to stop,” Jory remarked. By all indications the area was bereft of civilization. “Could they have had a mechanical failure?
The earpiece in his ear crackled, the signal weak. “What’s this about the convoy? Have you found her?” Lana asked, following the excursion from a tub at home.
“Not yet. I’m going in for a closer look.” Jory spoke knowing his tiny microphone, part of his earpiece, would pick up the words and relay it. “V Squadron, are you ladies keeping pace?”
A female voice replied with a dry, “We’ve already been ahead and back. Your mechanical wings are slow.” The Valkyries did so like to tease about their abilities.
Jory never rose to the bait. As a half-blood—half god, half Valkyrie—it meant that when he dove out of the helicopter, shouting, “Bombs away,” wings burst from his back. Big, dark ones that caught the air and filled him with weightless elation. He didn’t bask for long, as a strapping body plummeted past him.
“Everyone in the V Squadron, Viking up,” he shouted.
More bodies jumped from the helicopter; Neil, Sven, and others who volunteered. While Anya grabbed hold of Neil, Jory dove at his target, Ralph, who’d leaped first once again. He swooped in and grabbed the man under the arms, slowing his descent with heavy pulls of his wings.
“You been sneaking loaves of bread again?” Jory asked.
“You calling me fat?” snarled Ralph.
“Yes,” Jory chuckled. “But that cushion will come in handy for the landing. I hear a bird incoming.” Indeed, the whir of another bird in the sky approached. He released his comrade, throwing him at a tall tree. As he swept past in an arc, he saw Ralph grab a branch and swing.
Then Jory was off, wings flapping hard as he headed upwards and over to where the whirring sound of another helicopter drew his eye.
Rat-tat-tat. Gunfire erupted as the enemy on board noticed their incoming dilemma.
Bullets didn’t stop Valkyries. With shouts of glee, three came swooping in, eyes alight with battle lust, claws extended.
Jory, on the other hand, pulled a sword. Never got a chance to use it.
V Squadron took down the bird, jamming a soldier in its blades, mangling it. The helicopter listed, almost righted itself, then Anya plastered herself on the windshield and began pummeling it.
Since they didn’t need his help, Jory went after the convoy on the ground.
“Vikings, sound off.” A chorus of names sang in his headset, and he noted them all accounted for except for Peter. “Did anyone see Peter?”
“Here. Fuck. My balls. Damn. Bitch crushed my manhood.”
It took but a moment for Jory to finally spot Peter, in the vee of a tree, hugging the bole of it. Moaning.
“Guess you’ll be buying the drinks,” Jory taunted as he hit the ground running. The one with the least kills paid because it was damned embarrassing.
With his feet planted on terra firma, Jory oriented himself. An aerial glimpse had shown four ground vehicles, dark SUVs with headlights gleaming. One truck appeared to have a light broken and its hood dented. There was also lots of broken glass as if a battle had already occurred.
“What’s happening?” Lana asked. “What can you see?”
“Looks like something already hit the convoy.” And not long ago by the looks of it. The engines still ticked as they cooled. The blood was fresh and damp, not yet begun to dry.
“I didn’t expect it to hit so soon. I thought the time change would delay it,” Lana muttered. “She must have panicked.”
“You can’t mean…” Jory hesitated as he looked around, noticing the mangled bodies on the ground, all wearing uniforms. Nah. Not sweet, innocent Claire. He knew the woman fairly well by now. She couldn’t stand to even kill a fly.
The back of the truck loomed open; however, the interior didn’t appear empty. Jory approached and saw faces peering out. Frightened faces.
Before he could question them on what had happened, snarls erupted from the woods and wolves poured out. Larger than normal wolves, their leader a big, grizzled fellow who paused a few paces from Jory and snarled.
So Jory snarled back. The wolf, though, had no interest in Jory. It darted to the side and headed for a body on the ground.
The first one he’d seen not in a uniform and, given the nudity, probably a shapeshifter.
As the wolf let out a baying howl, Jory walked the scene and spoke quietly to his wife.
“Um, Lana, there’s an awful lot of damage here. I think something escaped that truck. Something big and mean.” Impressive enough he wanted to buy whatever it was a beer.
“I don’t know if I’d call it big and mean. Unless you touch her chocolate.”
“Hold on, you’re not saying… Claire did this?” The bodies. The door ripped from its frame and used to smash another soldier to a pulp.
“She tends to go a little wild when she panics.”
“You don’t say.” Now he wanted to buy her two beers and a chocolate sundae. Because damn. Claire was a bunny berserker.
Chapter 17
I awoke naked, as usual. Covered in blood. Again, kind of the norm. What was kind of weird was having Jory leaning over me but having Lana’s voice haranguing.
“…throw some clothes on her. Don’t you dare be peeking at my best friend’s goodies, or I will eat your eyeballs.”
“She will,” I noted. “With lemon squeezed on top.”
“Probably with a side of pickles.” Jory grinned. He shook out his hands, and fabric draped over me.
I clung to it, tucking it around, before sitting up.
“Is she okay? Tell me if she’s hurt.” The voice emerged from an earpiece dangling around Jory’s neck.
“How are you?” Jory rumbled.
“Fine. Where am I?” Last time I woke up, I was in a transport truck locked in a cage.
“We’re in the woods.”
“Duh.” I knew that. “What happened? Where’s Derek?” Because I seemed to remember Derek telling me he loved me before diving out of the truck and getting shot. Idiot. He just couldn’t wait.
“By the looks of it, you saved the day.”
“Did I?” I preferred not to dig too deep because, last thing I truly recalled, my skin tingled. My bunny quivered. My panic was rising, and then Derek went down. Shot in front of my eyes! “I told him to hold on and let me handle it. I knew my inner ninja bunny wouldn’t let me down.”
“Ninja?”
I sighed. “Is this where you agree with Lana and say none of my moves are ninja-ish?”
“Alas, I arrived too late to enjoy the battle. However, I did see the aftermath.” Jory held out a bottle of water, which I grabbed and chugged greedily. “Given the destruction wrought on thine enemies, I would say Claire the Berserker would be apt.”
“The berserker, hunh? I like that.” I grinned. “Wait until I tell Derek.”
The expression on Jory’s face went blank, setting off my uh-oh meter.
“What is it? What happened to Derek?” I grabbed Jory by the lapels and shook him, “Tell me!” Even as Lana shrieked, “Your pet wolf is fine. Don’t kill the father of my unborn child.”
Realizing I held Jory off the ground—only an inch given I was short, but still, manhandling him—I set him down and composed myself. “Tell me what you know. I remember him getting shot, but it was only two bullets. He should have been fine.”
“Two?” Jory snorted. “Last I saw, the showoff sported at least eight. According to the survi
vors, he rose and continued to fight. Quite the scrapper apparently. When he saw some soldiers band together, about to shoot your ferocious beast, he threw himself in front of the bullets.”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten before I exploded. “Oh my God, that idiot. How can a man being so stupid and also be the most sexiest awesome thing ever?” I paused, opened one eye, and said, “He did survive, right?”
“Yes. He is expected to make a full recovery.”
“Sweet!” I fist-pumped. Someone was so getting icing licked off his body the moment I saw him. “Take me to him.”
“Um, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Lana said not to.”
“What?” I glared at the earpiece around his neck and addressed it. “You can’t keep me from seeing Derek.”
The man had stopped a bullet for me. Told me he loved me. I needed to see him. Now.
Lana’s reply froze me. “His family showed up at the scene of the attack and took him back to your old hometown before Jory could find you.”
Eep.
He was gone.
I’d lost him.
Because there was no way I could follow. No way.
But…
I love him.
Did I love him enough to face my family? The panic rose. My skin tingled. Lana yelled, “Don’t let her freak out. If you see her nose twitching, run.”
Running wouldn’t work. I knew that for a fact. I’d run for ten years and still couldn’t escape my past. The question was, had the time come to face it?
Chapter 18
Claire waltzed in with a bounce to her blonde hair, and Derek froze, halfway dressed, one leg in his jeans, the other still out. He’d woken up not long ago and, when he found out Claire wasn’t with him, informed his family he had to leave.
“Leave? You’re still leaking blood!” his mother shrieked.
“Showoff,” muttered his brother.
They didn’t understand. He had to find her.
Only, there she was. In the vibrant flesh, looking gorgeous despite the T-shirt that claimed, “I kissed a Sasquatch.” She better not have. He’d hate to kill Ethan.
“You came.” He wondered if he hallucinated.
“Of course I did. I had to see you.” She chewed her lower lip. “Are you okay?”
“I am now. I’m so happy you came.” He opened his arms, and she threw herself at him.
Being a man, he didn’t wince even when she slammed into a few wounds. Having her close by made him feel a million times better.
Until she reared back and slugged him in the arm, right atop a bandage. “You idiot.”
“What the hell?”
“You stood in front of bullets for me.”
“And?”
“That is the stupidest thing you could have done.” She burst into tears. “That is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me.”
He enveloped her in his arms. “I meant what I said.”
“You really love me?” she sniffled. She raised her head, lashes wet.
“Have ever since we were kids.” He stroked her hair back from her face. “Now it’s my turn to ask. Are you all right? No one knew what happened to you after the battle.” He’d passed out from the second round of gunshot wounds and only woken in spurts as he was carried to safety. When he finally did regain consciousness, his brothers treated him to a rendition of the battle relayed to them by the survivors that spoke of a gigantic bunny with razor-sharp claws and giant ears rampaging and saving the day.
Claire. Apparently, she went really ballistic after he was shot enough to keep him down on the ground. His brother showed him footage of the aftermath with the broken cars and bodies. She’d pulverized the enemy.
“I told you we’d escape.” She beamed, but there was a hint of hesitation in it.
He didn’t let her pull away. “You were amazing.”
“Was I?”
“How could you think otherwise? You won the day, Enny.”
“I killed people.”
“Bad people. I was doing the same. And you should know, I was going to come find you. You just didn’t let me get my pants on first.” Those pants were actually on the floor.
“I like you better out of them,” she cutely admitted.
He lifted her chin. “It means a lot to me that you came.”
“I wasn’t sure if I should, after what happened.” Her head ducked, and it took him a moment to realize why.
“Hold on a second. Are you embarrassed?”
She shrugged. “My bunny isn’t exactly normal, as you saw.”
“Your bunny kicks ass,” he exclaimed.
“Only when it goes into monster mode.”
“Why would you call it that?”
“It’s a killing machine.”
“It’s a warrior. Like you.”
“Me?” She glanced at him.
“Yes, you. I hear that, because of you, all the people they had locked up were freed.” Which some might have found emasculating; however, Derek saw it a positive thing they’d all survived and those imprisoned found freedom again. “You did that. You and your special awesome bunny.”
“I guess.” She shrugged. “Lana finally got to meet her real mom and dad. Jory said she squealed so loud all the smoke alarms went off in the building and the firemen were called.”
“That reunion wouldn’t have happened without you.”
“Guess I was a hero.” Her smile returned.
“Totally.”
“Does this mean for Halloween we both get to wear tights and be Superman?”
“I don’t do tights.”
“How about a loin cloth? You’d make an epic Conan.”
“How about we worry about that next year. First, there’s something you need to do. Something to make this day just perfect.” He winked.
She sighed. “Do I have to?” She fidgeted with his hair and nuzzled his neck.
“Only if you’re in the mood,” he replied, cupping her ass.
“I’ll do it. But after, you’d better be prepared to give me the best sex of my life.”
Hold on. That was what he planned, except she dropped a kiss on his lips and turned around to walk out the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Where do you think, silly? To face my parents.”
Chapter 19
Hardest thing ever. I walked a road I knew and yet, at the same time, didn’t. When had the trees in the front yard gotten so big? The lilac so tall?
I loved the red they’d painted the front door. The frilly curtains in the front window were a change from the wooden blinds that were rarely shut. The vehicle in the driveway wasn’t the same pickup truck my dad owned a decade ago, but it was still a big Dodge Ram, king cab, the paint job a deep blue. My dad used to keep a bag of licorice in the glovebox for us to share when I went on rides with him into the big city for a Costco run. I wonder if he stopped doing that when I left.
I wondered a lot of things about my family. Most of all, what would they say when they saw me at the door?
My pulse raced. Pitter-patter. I was terrified. More scared than when I was caught by the demon. More frightened than the time I stole Lana’s donut when she was PMS-ing.
However, I’d learned one crucial thing since I’d left home. Fear was normal. It was how you handled the fear that counted. Learning how to cope had made me strong.
Strong enough to do this.
It took effort and deep breaths to walk up those steps. My inner bunny was ready to turn tail and run. But I wouldn’t let fear chase me away again.
Before I could knock, the door was flung open and my mother stared at me. I froze in place, not even my nose twitched. My heart, though, it thumped, fast enough I wondered if I was having a heart attack. The urge to flee beat fast as a drum inside me.
I took a step forward instead. “Hey, Mom.”
My mother had aged in the last decade. Lines marked the corners of her eyes and forehead.
Her hair held a hint of gray. She’d been over forty when I left and now was pushing fifty-five.
That said, she looked damned good even if her lips trembled and her eyes glistened with tears.
“Claire? Is that really you?” Spoken in a quavering voice.
I found my throat tight. Too tight to speak so I nodded.
“Oh, baby girl.” Her arms came around me in a hug I’d not realized I’d missed until that moment. Okay, so maybe I had missed it. I’d just shoved it down far enough inside that I made myself believe I didn’t need it.
But I did. I needed my mommy and missed her. I let it all out sobbing against her shoulder. Sobbed and snotted and apologized while she hugged me. And we couldn’t have been there more than two minutes before I heard the sound of pounding feet. I didn’t even have time to turn. I was lifted in the air and smothered by a chest.
I didn’t mind the rib-crushing hug my dad gave me, and I didn’t have to question how he knew I was home. His bond with my mom was strong, enough that they shared feelings sometimes.
Could he feel my shame that I’d ever believed they didn’t love me enough to handle the fact I was different? Could I ever apologize enough for being a teenager who, in her pompous self-centeredness, thought it was better to leave the people who loved her most?
“I’m sorry,” I managed to mumble in a teary voice.
“Princess.” My dad sighed my nickname. “Thank the moon lord you’re home.”
“Actually, you should thank Derek. He’s the one who guilted me into coming.” It seemed important to give him credit. No more lies.
Daddy set me down, and my mother wrapped her arm around my waist. “Come inside, baby girl. I’ll make you something to eat.”
The drool just about hit the ground at the mention. Mom was an epic cook. She could literally whip together anything with the meanest of ingredients. Stuck in the woods with pine tree and moss and not much else? She’d hunt down the edible leaves, snare a wild turkey, stuff it and roast it over an open fire.
Don’t believe it? I’d eaten it. And the raspberry coulee she made for dessert dribbled over a fresh honeycomb? My tummy rumbled.