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

by Jane Cousins

  Now, to find one perplexing Demon and… there, off to the left. Grrr, he was hard to miss. Her quarry surrounded by over two dozen fawning females, ringed by a squadron of exhausted looking Palace Guards.

  There would be no chance of having any kind of private discussion with Galen here tonight.

  Blast. Stephanie wasn’t a procrastinator. It was innate to her kind. Spending so much time on the battlefield taught you to kill quickly and move on. Otherwise it was nothing but pleading, moaning and whining. Followed by the never ending photos of children or grandchildren as some schlub begged for his life.

  Kill quick, get it over with and move on to the next kill. It was a simple motto. Many a Valkyrie, when recovering from a serious hand injury, had been forced to produce a needlepoint cushion during rehab that said those exact words.

  But here, now, Stephanie could see no clear path to Galen. Sure, she could wave the clipboard, sending the She-Demons scurrying like they were sparkly vampires and she was brandishing a superior facial cleanser. Yet it wouldn’t cower the Guards, who looked kind of pissed off. After their day of being dragged around by Galen, she didn’t blame them for hovering, exuding various levels of seething anger.

  But the idea of a group of strangers eavesdropping whilst she attempted to set the record straight in regards to that kiss… abhorrent beyond measure.

  She still couldn’t believe Galen had spent the entire day avoiding her. She too loathed discussions in regards to anything personal, she got it. But surely the pre-eminent near fucking prior to the kiss would cancel out the negatives if she promised not to do it again. Putting the fucking part of the equation back in play.

  Grrr, horny and frustrated, she hated being the poster girl for either of those emotions. With little else she could do, Stephanie headed for the bar. Double grrr, discovering Aspen propping up one end. The only other female at the party who hadn’t chosen to cover up with some voluminous kaftan that would hide all her assets from Stephanie’s critical eye.

  No, all of Aspen’s Lucifer given assets were on display in a tiny, red, micro bikini that called attention to her willowy physique and credible, high, c-cup rack. Her dark hair was plaited back loosely, tendrils framing her beautiful face, caressing her long neck. A matching red flower tucked behind her right ear.

  Aspen’s attention had been focused upon the Galen show, some thirty feet away but she shifted her gaze, sensing Stephanie’s presence.

  “Ah, the loyal, dog-like secretary.”

  “Ah, the clinging embarrassing ex.”

  Stephanie found herself surprisingly having to bite down on the urge to smile. Guessing from the twinkle in Aspen’s green eyes she was doing the same. Damn, a kindred Sister spirit. Turning, Stephanie beckoned the nearest barman over and requested an ale. Placing her clipboard down on the bar to pick up the large frothy pint glass he placed before her.

  “You should retire that thing permanently.” Aspen eyed the clipboard, a superior smirk lifting the edges of her full lips. “The race has been won. The winner of the title - the future Mrs Galen Darvyn - has been declared.”

  “You?” Stephanie eyed the gorgeous Demoness over the rim of her glass as she took a deep drink. The urge to snap that slender neck reared, but she stamped down on it. If Aspen were so damn confident, she would have already collected her prize. “It seems your illustrious female brethren haven’t heard the news either.”

  Aspen shifted her gaze to the heaving throng of females surrounding, all but obscuring Galen from view. “Please, I just like watching the cat fights and the posturing, fools.”

  Stephanie let pity fill her gaze. “Yes, fools.”

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Aspen’s dark eyebrows lifted, storm clouds gathering in her gaze.

  “I did nothing more than agree with you.”

  “Yes, but it was the way you agreed with me.”

  Damn, mind games really were just as satisfying as the cut and thrust of a sharp weapon. Luckily, Stephanie was a quick learner, discovering that it wasn’t just about the words you spoke, but often the ones you didn’t. Plus, who knew a look, a look that said - I understand you are delusional but get why - could really hammer home the pain.

  “I’m the most suitable candidate for Galen, trust me.”

  Yeah, and when people said, trust me, they were usually the ones who believed their own lies. Stephanie did no more than nod and take another drink from her pint glass.

  “We have a history together. I know how he thinks. His likes. Dislikes. I’ve met his family. His parents. His sisters. His friends. I know what he likes to eat. What conflict he considers beneath him. The kind that really revs him up.” Aspen’s smug smile broadened. “I know what revs him up in all aspects of his life.”

  “Hmmm.” Stephanie battled the urge to tear this gorgeous female, who had carnal knowledge of Galen, into tiny itty bitty pieces and do the tush waving battle dance of victory on the remains. Instead, she widened her eyes, fluttering her baby-blues thoughtfully. “But aren’t you the one who cheated on him?”

  “Please, just to make him jealous. He knows they meant nothing to me.”

  “Well, that’s okay then… But how did he react?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “When you flirted with other men, slept with a couple by the sound of it, how did he react?”

  “He was naturally upset.” Aspen’s voice was tight, defensive.

  Stephanie’s right eyebrow arched upwards momentarily. “He didn’t react at all, did he? No jealous rage. No pummelling his competition into a pulp. Did he even notice?”

  “Of course he noticed.”

  “You ended the relationship before he could, didn’t you?” Stephanie was sure she was right and had to lock her knees so she wouldn’t begin waggling her tush in Aspen’s face. Galen hadn’t cared enough about the Demoness to fight for her.

  “It just became apparent that though we are a wonderful match, at that stage in our lives, we wanted different things.”

  “Yes, sounds like you were in love with Galen, or thought you were, and realised that he didn’t love you.” Oh, stab and twist that metaphorical knife. “All these decades you’ve remained hung up on him. The one that got away. You must think this is the perfect opportunity to get your hooks into him, with your insider knowledge. Except he doesn’t appear to be particularly interested, does he?”

  “It doesn’t matter what Galen wants or doesn’t want anymore, his inner Demon knows how close he is to turning stabby. It will recognise me as his best and only hope for survival, for balance. I am supremely confident I can claim Galen with only three little words.”

  Stephanie drained the last of her ale, slamming the glass down on the bar. She gut deep knew the female’s declaration was false, but for some strange reason she had to bite back the urge to scream in Aspen’s face, issuing a war cry, demanding a fight to the death. No, not this time. “Challenge accepted.”

  “Excuse me?” Aspen’s green eyes widened in sudden surprise.

  “You just declared you could claim Galen with three little words. I say, prove it. You don’t even have to claim him, just get him to scare off the wannabe brides and demand the Guards back off for some intimate alone time.”

  “Right.” Aspen laughed, but it sounded hollow. “And what’s in it for me?”

  “Well, Galen I suppose. But if that’s not enough, satisfaction in proving me wrong.”

  “You think you know him so well, just because you pick up his laundry, run his errands and take phone messages?”

  “I do.” Thanks to the time difference on the Fjornfiall plane she’d known the Demon for almost three weeks now. He perplexed her at every turn. But even though Aspen believed she had an edge, thanks to their prior relationship, she wasn’t a six-foot blonde who snort laughed, which is what Galen was adamant he wanted in his future mate.

  Whilst Stephanie obviously wasn’t his future anything but temporary fuck buddy, she thought she understood what drove him better
than Aspen. Having a wife who would sink to use other men to manipulate him was not something he would find acceptable. He would never allow Aspen to claim him… hatchets crossed.

  “After I claim him, the very first thing I’m going to do is have him fire your over-exposed ass.” Aspen tossed back over her shoulder as she sauntered off towards the group crowded around Galen.

  Damn, Stephanie’s gut heated and churned, watching as the dark haired Demoness put an extra roll into her hips. She had faith in Galen, she had no idea why. But if she was wrong? Ugh, heated stabbing jabs joined the roiling in her gut. If that were the case, then Galen wouldn’t have to faux fire her. She’d be long gone. Never to think about the irritating, disturbing, perplexing big lug ever again.

  Grrr. Watching as Aspen moved arrogantly through the crowd of fawning females, like a knife through butter, she was slippery and so damn confident.

  Stephanie discovered she was gripping the edge of the bar so tightly her knuckles had turned white. She would not call her hatchets, she would not storm the group and decapitate Aspen and then for good measure that traitorous, contemptible, despicable… The green-eyed Demoness finally reached Galen’s side. She glanced back for a moment, shooting Stephanie a triumphant smirk before leaning over to begin whispering in his ear.

  Oh, blast, what had she done? Why had she issued that challenge?

  She desperately wanted to close her eyes, but Stephanie was no coward. She would face the consequences of her actions, like a Valkyrie.

  For some inexplicable reason, the outcome of this challenge had taken on a significance that shocked her. All her instincts, all her focus on one individual, Galen, and what he chose to do next. She found herself praying to her Goddess and Creator, that he would make the right decision.

  It took all of her willpower not to jump up and down, waving her arms to get his attention, screaming the words, pick me, pick me. Like some pathetic heroine in a rom-com, that she and her Sisters always laughed themselves hoarse at.

  By Freyja’s Sword, she needed to bang boots with the Demon, now, and get back to the battlefield before she did or said something that she couldn’t take back. Such as words like stay, don’t leave me, don’t find your soul mate, don’t marry some random Demoness. But she didn’t want Galen turning mindless berserker savage either.

  Heavens, Stephanie had never… felt like this before, as if she were on the precipice of some major turning point in her life. Watching as Aspen stood back from Galen, a satisfied smile gracing her lips, anticipation in her gorgeous green eyes as she awaited his answer.

  Crap, Stephanie should have totally paid more attention in that yoga class because suddenly she discovered she’d forgotten how to breathe.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Galen was done. He’d rung his parents. Spoken to each of his seven younger sisters. Lastly, he’d mapped out an escape route from this Realm for Stephanie. It was hand drawn, pretty self-explanatory, but for good measure he’d also included copious notes regarding shift times for the Staff and Guards. Along with which hellhounds that guarded the earth gates could be easily distracted with a raw hunk of meat.

  He’d wanted to find Stephanie a few hours ago, get his apology… his inevitable death over with. But he didn’t want to be responsible for the demise of a squadron of Palace Guards. Who upon witnessing his decapitation would instinctively attack. Even with their superior numbers, he knew they would be no match for his Valkyrie.

  So he’d decided to play along with this farce just a little longer. Sooner or later he’d chance upon some alone time away from his armed escort. Although, he hadn’t factored into his plans the number of flocking She-Demons at this party. The choking cloud of accompanying perfume. The flapping of kaftan sleeves. Plus, the astonishing number of times he would be forced to duck, in order to avoid being smacked in the face every time one of them coyly tossed her long hair.

  He didn’t like being so physically hemmed in, but at least his posse of Palace goons had begun to relax and backed off several paces to give him, and his wannabe-bride groupies, some room.

  Galen ignored a blonde who leaned over, brushing his arm with a scarlet tipped hand, her kaftan gaping open at the neckline as she bent forward. Please, as if any female could compete with his Valkyrie’s assets.

  A red head crowded in from his right, giggling at her rival’s failure to capture his attention as she bumped his shoulder, almost causing him to drop the ice cold bottle of beer he was thoroughly enjoying. “Watch it.” He growled, not even trying to be polite.

  Several of the females laughed at the redhead’s expense. Irritatingly practised, husky, breathless sounds. Galen rolled his eyes, what he wouldn’t give to hear Stephanie’s carefree snort laugh just one last time. Biting back a sigh, he tipped up the bottle of beer, finished it, and grabbed a fresh one from the ice bucket at his feet.

  He was vaguely aware of movement amongst the She-Demons. Muttered curses and the rustle of fabric as voluminous kaftans were wrenched out of the way. Flicking his attention to the left, he only just managed to hold back a disgusted sigh as Aspen stepped in to the inner circle. She was rocking that red bikini, there was no denying it, but all that effort was wasted on him. Couldn’t she read the disinterest in his eyes? Probably, but Aspen could never back away from a challenge.

  Man, he bet all those years ago, if he’d just lied and professed his undying love for her, Aspen would have dropped him like a year old designer pair of shoes.

  Cool triumph shone in those green eyes, the edges of her lips tilting upwards in a superior smirk as she leaned over to rest her mouth against his ear. Her breath was heated as it swept over his skin. “I claim you.”

  Galen’s inner Demon all but yawned in disinterest.

  Seriously? She was trying to claim him? He’d warned her, but typical Aspen, she thought she knew better. As she straightened, he coolly met her gaze, watching that superior look on her face fade, surprise and shock filtering through now. “I don’t think so. But thanks for playing. Here.” He grabbed an ice cold beer and slapped it into her hand. “No one should go away empty handed.”

  All the colour drained from Aspen’s gorgeous face in humiliation. Turning, she stormed off, using her elbows to wrestle her way through the flock of hovering, gleeful She-Demons. The moment she cleared the group he once more became the centre of attention. Crap, these ladies couldn’t even register what a complete asshole he was. They were too busy seeing dollar signs and the title that hung around his neck, like a bloody lead weight.

  Closing his eyes, Galen lifted his beer and took a big swig. At least his aunt hadn’t skimped on the catering, the ale was first class. With the salty smell of sulphur tainting the air, the feel of sand beneath his feet, if he kept his eyes closed, he could imagine he was alone at the beach. Enjoying one last brew, and his ten icy cold friends before the sun set and the day was officially over… for good.

  Unfortunately, his peace and quiet was disturbed by an outraged feminine squawk, followed by several gasps and the flapping and rustle of fabric. By Lucifer’s left ball, what now? He opened his eyes, the She-Demons who’d been clustered around him were racing off in all directions. Scrambling away, panic in their eyes. Hiking up their voluminous kaftans, fear and dismay mirrored on all their faces. Oops, Jinty Frodacks just fell over and two She-Demons leapt right over her. No one stopped to help as Jinty scrabbled in the sand, disorientated for a moment, before regaining her feet and continuing her hasty departure.

  “I must say, I’m loving this clipboard.”

  Galen’s head turned quickly to the left. Stephanie was standing there, wearing a one-piece pink bathing suit, casually fanning herself with the dreaded clipboard. “I don’t even get that kind of reaction when I call my hatchets and wave them around.”

  “Stephanie.” Galen should have been consumed by panic or terror at the sight of her, but all he could feel was a combination of guilt, sheer relief at seeing her one last time and horny. So incredibly horny. An unusua
l mix of emotions.

  “Anyone sitting there?” Stephanie pointed at the lounger next to his, where just thirty seconds ago five She-Demons had fought for butt space.

  “Feel free.”

  Stephanie sank onto the lounger, relaxing back, removing the glasses and dropping them and the clipboard onto the sand. “Oh, beer, mind if I have one?”

  “Please.” So they were going to go the civilised route? His Valkyrie? He would have lost that bet. He had imagined he’d be trying to apologise whilst ducking stabs and swings of her hatchets right about now.

  Soaking in the sight of her, Galen felt his gut relax and his cock go supernova. She looked damn sexy and sassy in that pink halter neck swimsuit. Though trust his Valkyrie to incorporate a cut out plunging neckline. She had no mercy when it came to the male of the species.

  Now the opportunity was here, to raise the topic of the kiss, Stephanie found herself hesitating. “What did Aspen want?”

  Stephanie’s baby blue gaze was the picture of innocence, which instantly had Galen on high alert. “Just to let me know she was leaving.”

  “Oh? Looked to me like she was staking out her territory. Why are you staring at me like that? Smiling?”

  Galen was surprised to find himself grinning, he was stupid happy to be sitting here next to Stephanie, talking. He didn’t care if she killed him now or continued to toy with him and cashed his chips later. Any time spent in her presence was a gift. “I’m just really happy to see you.”

  “Funny. I’m betting you saw me any number of times throughout today… from a distance that is. Nice to see you have stopped running.”

  “I had things to do.” Galen picked up his lounger and scooted it over so it was only inches away from Stephanie’s. Lowering his voice, he held out the map he’d spent the day cobbling together. Very aware of the Palace Guards ringing them, ten paces back, no doubt under strict instructions to report anything he said back to Welst or worse, his aunt.