What's Up, Buttercup? (Vexatious Valkyries Book 1)

by Jane Cousins

  Stephanie’s chin lifted. Maybe the Demon wasn’t so smart after all. Thinking he could make her do anything she didn’t want to do. To give him a fighting chance she’d allow him to make the first move. Her whole body tense and alert, waiting. Except Galen didn’t do anything. Seriously? He was going to subdue her with his good looks?

  A mocking comment was poised on Stephanie’s tongue when suddenly her whole world exploded. A flash of blue flames flickered across the midnight surface of Galen’s eyes and… she blinked, looking around. Her head hurt. Her heart was racing.

  More worrisome, she discovered she was sitting down at the Freyja damned table.

  Chapter Six

  Galen froze, the sharp tip of a dagger at his jugular signalling that quiet time was over. Caught red-handed tending the long, shallow cut on Stephanie’s arm with an antiseptic wipe. Pity, he was almost finished.

  “What the fuck did you just do to me, Demon?”

  “I believe I won the challenge you issued.”

  “How? Start talking.”

  Galen swallowed pointedly, the dagger digging into his flesh ever so slightly, but not drawing blood. “Are you going to be a sore loser?”

  Stephanie grit her teeth, her head throbbed, though other parts of her were feeling better. The ice pack Galen had tied to her knee numbing the ache there. Sneaky bastard, she hadn’t loss much time but the Demon had certainly gotten busy on the first aid front whilst she’d… spaced?

  She hurriedly double checked that her injuries had been his sole focus, noting her clothing remained undisturbed. Which should reassure her, but strangely only pissed her off more. Any other male would have seized the opportunity to cop a feel. See, perplexing.

  Reluctantly, Stephanie palmed the dagger. Watching with a suspicious, narrowed gaze, as Galen finished tending to the cut on her arm as if he hadn’t been facing death mere seconds before. He was a cool one, she’d give him that.

  Grabbing a fresh antiseptic cloth, Galen swiped it over every remaining scrape, cut and bruise he could see. It was surprisingly easy for him to remain clinical about the exercise, maybe because the roiling anger in his gut at the Valkyrie’s carelessness with such a precious commodity, herself, was eating away at him.

  “I’m waiting.”

  “For?” He enquired, dabbing at one last small knick. There, he thought that was everything. Unless she was hiding more injuries under that tight, tiny t-shirt. For the sake of his sanity, he decided not to go there.

  “I want an explanation.” Stephanie grit out, watching as he deftly packed away the first aid kit before strolling over to the kitchen to wash his hands.

  “I hope sandwiches are okay. Water or juice?”

  “Water.” Finding herself momentarily distracted by the plate Galen thumped unceremoniously down before her. Two large, delicious looking sandwiches all for her. Food. Third rule. Though she did wait for the Demon to join her before she began eating.

  Galen couldn’t explain why it made him so damn happy to watch his Valkyrie tuck into the food he’d prepared for her, it just did. “What do you know about Conflict Demons?”

  “We do extensive research on all our clients.” When Galen only shot her an impatient look, Stephanie decided to elaborate. She would play along if it meant an explanation of how he’d won the challenge. “Conflict Demons are physically sturdy. They can take a beating and keep on ticking. Short of decapitation or losing their heart, they heal pretty much anything. Not known for their smarts. Battle skills tend to be capable but not stellar. Swords. Knives. Fists. They get distracted easily. Anger makes them sloppy. No teamwork. Tend not to play well with others.” She looked at him, wondering if the truth hurt, but all Galen did was nod as if he agreed with her recitation.

  “You play to the averages, I get that. What do you know about how we go about inciting conflict?”

  “My understanding is that you require touch.”

  “For the majority of my brethren, that’s true. For some though, it just requires exposure to their presence. Their blast zone averages about ten feet in circumference and saturation levels take about five minutes to kick in. They tend to hang out in a lot of elevators, or on planes or trains to get their kicks.”

  “You sound like you don’t approve.” She was surprised.

  “Low hanging fruit. No effort or class. And then, there is the final classification of my kind, who, with nothing more than a thought, can incite conflict. Probably only about fifteen percent of my brethren fall into that category.”

  “Your eyes.” Stephanie snapped her fingers as a memory surfaced. “There were blue flames in them. So you can mind zap conflict?”

  “Yes.” Galen finished his first sandwich and began on his second.

  “Hell. That changes our intel. But… if you hit me with the conflict whammy, shouldn’t I be feeling something more than a headache?”

  “Valkyries are pretty singular in their focus. I dialled it down, but for anyone else I hit with that look, they would have either exploded into violence, been frozen in terror, or had an anxiety attack. Your kind is all about control. I knew you would shake the conflict whammy off pretty quickly. You just needed a brief minute or two to recalibrate your goals and focus. Giving me time to play Doctor.”

  “Except you had no idea how I would react. I could have killed you.”

  “If I’d attacked you, yes, probably. Your instincts would have instantly kicked in. However, I had no ill intent. Plus, I’ve been doing this a very long time. I’m an excellent judge of character, as such, I had a reasonably good idea of the outcome.”

  “Reasonably?” Where had she put that dagger? Maybe she’d see how the Demon liked being treated as a test subject as she carved into him.

  “Hey. Don’t be like that. You challenged me, remember? And if it had been with weapons, I’d be injured or dead by now. We use what the Gods Above and Below grant us, you know that.”

  She did, but she didn’t have to be happy about it. “Did you feed on me?” She’d heard rumours that Conflict Demons gained insight into their targets when they fed. She didn’t like the idea of Galen, who had already out manoeuvred her once, having any more ammunition at his disposal.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  That had been a hard won battle with his inner Demon, who wanted more than anything in this world or any other to taste Stephanie. Galen would have liked to have said that he recognised such a move would have been invasive, but really, he was protecting himself. He was already half in love with this woman, but nothing in life was guaranteed. If he tasted her, and lost her… just the thought caused his gut to roil. No pale imitation forced meld would ever be enough now.

  If he tasted and lost her? He had a feeling he’d burn worlds down. Mindless killing machine on the rampage.

  Stephanie drained the last of her water. Her headache was finally receding now that she’d eaten and rehydrated. Casting a hard glare Galen’s way, she watched impatiently as he took his own sweet time finishing lunch. Absently she adjusted the ice pack.

  “You should probably look into that.”

  “It will be good as new come tomorrow.”

  “I meant your internal conflict, not your knee.”

  Stephanie frowned. “I don’t do internal conflict. You said it yourself. Valkyrie. Focused.”

  Galen shook his head. “I can’t work in a vacuum. Trust me, even Valkyries are conflicted, even if it is just over which of their sharp, pointy weapons they love the most.”

  Her conflicted? Never. She rose in the morning and either hit the battlefield or trained in preparation for the battlefield. She adored her Sisters. Loved to visit injury and death upon her enemies. Though it was annoying having her hands tied more and more lately because of all the corporate and social events suddenly on the battle schedule.

  And honestly, don’t even get her started on how all their suppliers appeared to be half-assing everything recently. Lumpy pillows. Fatty meat. The Accounting Department’s general rule of late w
as clearly to go with the cheapest vendor bid when it came to their suppliers. Rarely bothering to set any quality standards or ensure the few that were contractually agreed upon were being met.

  The elves who supplied their weapons were jacking up their prices every month and no one at Corporate appeared willing to do a damn thing to put a halt to their greedy actions.

  By Freyja’s Sword, if she were in charge, things would be different, better.

  Wait, stop. She was a Battle Valkyrie through and through. Just because she was a little dissatisfied with how things were being done lately, believing her left toe could do a better job, it wasn’t like she intended to do anything about it. Did she? Should she?

  Stephanie just couldn’t seem to shake these feelings of creeping dissatisfaction. The constant questions that had begun plaguing her for the last decade. Just because this was the way things had always been done, did they need to keep on following antiquated rules and traditions?

  “You need to stop that.” Damn, the waves of conflict coming off the Valkyrie were too tempting by half. Galen concentrated on finishing his sandwich instead, chewing rapidly.

  Crap, she did have conflict. No, it was not allowed. She’d been trained from the cradle to fight on the battlefields. She would not, would never, ever, go into… Management. Bah, just the thought made her stomach twist and leave a sour taste in her mouth. All someone needed to do was light a fire under Corporate, not her… but someone.

  Ripping away the ice pack, Stephanie stood up abruptly. She had to move, do something, anything. Maybe throw the gorgeous Demon with the ink dark eyes onto the bed and have wild, distracting sex.

  Unfortunately, that option might come with its own problems. Galen was cool, confident. The bastard even tried to order her around. He might not wish to have sex with her. Huh, what was she saying? she was a Valkyrie, of course he would. Though his behaviour today? It didn’t really scream interested, did it?

  Polite. Thoughtful. Helpful. Arrogant. Self-assured. Masterful even.

  Hmmm, yes, sex might just be the distraction she needed.

  But what if he did refuse her kind offer? Outlandish, but stranger things had happened. There had been initial heat in his eyes when they first met, but that had distinctly cooled, hadn’t it? So sex was probably off the table, damn it. Annoying, irritating, perplexing Demon.

  “Fuck, you are killing me, woman.” Galen had no idea what Stephanie was thinking but whatever it was she was sending out intoxicating, all too tempting waves of conflict.

  Right, pick an activity and focus on it, now! “Let’s hit the spring. I know I’m close to working out how to climb up that chute.”

  Thank fuck. She’d made a decision.

  Stephanie followed Galen down the short tunnel towards the hot spring, kicking herself as she watched him shed his shirt as they walked. Unveiling those broad shoulders and - considering he appeared to like sitting around doing paperwork so much - ridiculously muscular back. His belt came next. Heavens, now he was reaching down to undo his trousers.

  She so wasn’t subjecting herself to the sight of his gorgeous ass again, she was still having flashbacks from the last experience. Brushing past Galen she morphed her outfit back into sensible one-piece bathers before diving quickly into the spring. Wishing with all her heart that the blasted thing was icy cold. She needed something to help put out this strange flickering heat that had set up shop in her lady parts.

  She refused to be attracted to a perplexing Demon who appeared to have some kind of multiple personality disorder. Heated interest one moment. Cool friendliness the next. Followed by a display of sheer arrogance when he tried to order her about, for her own damn good, so she couldn’t even fault him on trying to be needlessly dominant.

  Worse, he had dominated her.

  She’d issued a challenge and he’d won. Through trickery and use of his magic, she could respect that… him. Damn it, that just fanned higher the simmering yearning low in her body.

  She was trapped in a cavern with a perplexing Demon that she was physically attracted to. Throwing him down on the nearest flat surface and having sex with him didn’t appear to be an option. And she couldn’t kill him, she’d be stuck with a decomposing corpse.

  Blast, what was a Valkyrie to do?

  Focus, on getting out of here. That needed to be her number one priority.

  Though to be brutally honest, one less Valkyrie on the field wasn’t going to change the daily outcome of brutality visited upon their paying clients. However, there was honour, duty and Sisterhood at stake here for Stephanie. Above all else, there was the pledge she had made to serve Freyja.

  She was not desperately, futilely, trying to climb this vertical chute just to get away from Galen Darvyn. Who she was reluctantly forced to admit she found both attractive and yet, at the same time, strangely disturbing. Proving to be both more complex than most other males she had met and a lot more unpredictable. Though nothing she couldn’t handle or ignore.

  Yes, she had the distinct feeling that it was in her best interests to keep on ignoring him. Her gut was warning her that the Demon was up to something. Only dead Valkyries didn’t listen to their gut.

  In the meantime, she would focus. Her number one priority was to escape. Her number two, ignore the darkly attractive Demon.

  Though if he continued to be an annoyance, she hadn’t completely dismissed the idea of killing him. She’d noted some deeper tunnels that fed off from the hot spring. She intended to explore them if she failed in her bid to conquer this bloody vertical chute.

  Even if she didn’t find a way out of this prison, maybe she’d find a deep nook or cranny big even to store a Demon sized body. On that happy thought, she launched herself up into the chute with Galen’s help for attempt number forty-three.

  * * *

  It was only five days since the Valkyrie had all but fallen into his lap, but Galen’s temper and patience was being severely tested to the point where he was afraid he was about to do something incredibly stupid. Like throw all his meticulous plans away and just hit Stephanie with pleading puppy dog eyes, begging her for some attention and affection.

  Yeah, like that wouldn’t get him a gold boot to the face.

  No. He had to be stronger than this. He had to stick to the plan. He had to be nothing but friendly, casual and cool.

  Thank Lucifer, the Valkyrie was so intent upon escaping this place. As she set off to explore the caverns beyond the spring each day, he hit the shower and let the freezing cold water grant him some small measure of relief from the wracking horniness that was plaguing him.

  Fucking hell. It was torture. Sharing a bed with the woman every night, rigidly ensuring he kept to his own side of the mattress. Sleeping wasn’t an option. Her scent. Her nearness. She was so bloody tempting. Every single second was spent lying there, fighting for control over his inner Demon. He would not break from the plan. Too much was at stake.

  Unfortunately for Galen, his Demon side didn’t agree. It wanted to taste, touch and devour.

  Every morning he was both grateful that he could finally rise, get some much needed distance and dismayed, because watching the Valkyrie bounce out of bed was next level torture. Pure hell, given the tiny sleep tops she insisted upon wearing, the bouncing was very self evident.

  In fact, he’d come to discover that Stephanie had an insanely irritating habit of walking on the balls of her feet and him trying not to follow the two front and centre bouncing balls required an act of supreme control on his part. Thank the Fiery Pits, the woman was occupied elsewhere for large amounts of time in her quest to find a way out from under this mountain.

  Galen had quickly discovered that cold showers only helped fractionally to take the edge off his frustration. It would have been nice to give himself some self-relief, but his Demon alter ego wasn’t having a bar of it. He spent his days instead ploughing through paperwork. Galen would have preferred to have spent his time drinking, but he needed his faculties sharp for when the Va
lkyrie made her eventual reappearance nearing the end of each day.

  Problem was, he was reaching the end of his tether. This plan of his did not appear to be making any inroads with Stephanie. They shared breakfast and dinner together each day in all but total silence. Excepting for the occasional - pass the salt. Every evening they adjourned to the torturous device known as the bed.

  Then did it all again the next day.

  He was polite. Friendly, but on the cool side. He refrained from asking personal questions, though he was dying to know every little thing about her. No knowing looks. To avoid temptation, he kept eye contact to a minimum, less wearing on his poor cock.

  Checking on the chicken casserole he’d placed in the oven in readiness for Stephanie’s return, Galen eyed the clock. Refusing to countenance the idea that she might have been successful in her search for an exit and made her escape. If she did, fine. It just meant he could go on the hunt. Damn, he really liked that idea.

  Much more so than this close quarters hell he was being forced to endure. Acting like some sort of deranged innkeeper who was bucking for a glowing five-star review. Heating towels for her shower. Making her breakfast and dinner. Packing her a freaking lunch to take on her daily jaunts.

  Fuck, but what choice did he have? Clan law, when it came to mating, hadn’t changed since the first Conflict Demon had crawled out of the lava pits. The female issued a claim on the male. If the union was meant to be, the male’s inner Demon recognised that claim on an instinctual level and an instantaneous bond, meld, was formed. An unbreakable link between soul mates. It couldn’t be faked or forced, except by the Queen’s trio of Shaman.

  Galen was an excellent judge of character. It’s what made him such a successful divorce attorney. Not to mention four hundred years under his belt of manipulating others so he could feed on their conflict. It was written into his DNA. From the cradle he’d begun playing his proud parents off against one another.

  He knew if he pursued Stephanie actively, openly, she’d dig her heels in and just for the sake of being stubborn, shut him down. Valkyries liked to control every situation, he could relate. So he needed to manoeuvre Stephanie into thinking pursuing him was all her idea.