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

by Jane Cousins

  “Seven centuries?” Oh, damn, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly began to fall into place. The timing was way too convenient, yet no one had ever connected the dots before. Galen’s inability to talk about them? The Shamans had to be broadcasting some type of magic, or placed a geas on the Conflict Realm to prevent anyone from speaking about their origins or even thinking about them too deeply.

  “What?” Galen could read Stephanie’s expression; she’d discovered something important.

  “Let’s step though this. Seven centuries ago the Shamans arrive in this Realm. Soon after, a war begins on the Western Front with the Morghdorn Horde. Your once upon a time peaceful tree-hugging neighbours. And in a marvellous coincidence timing-wise, all these unmated males suddenly begin turning Berserker.”

  Galen found it extremely difficult to concentrate on Stephanie’s words. Like he was fighting through some mental barrier made of barbed-wired and thick smoke. Grrr, he found anger helped. The angrier he grew the clearer he was able to think. Someone had been fucking with his mind. Not only didn’t he like the theory Stephanie was proposing, he was seething mad that somehow, some way, his aunt’s magical pets were performing mind control on his kind. Keeping him, his brethren, from questioning. Keeping them from looking too closely at what was going on.

  He found he couldn’t speak directly about the history of the Shamans but he could talk around whatever geas they had put on him. “What about Laynn? Is my aunt a victim in this, a puppet? Or are her magical pets doing her bidding?”

  “Having met your aunt, I know how I’m voting.”

  “Yes. I can’t see Laynn as anything but the puppet master. But why? Was her goal-” Galen found he couldn’t say the words he wanted to out loud so changed tacks slightly. He waved his hand at the frozen image of Flagstaff. “…to create the messy stalemate on the Western Front?”

  “War can be very good for the economy. This could be all about keeping the royal coffers full, but…”

  “But?”

  “I’ve watched reams of footage, the Morghdorn Horde are relentless, their numbers superiors. Daily they regenerate by the hundreds and throw themselves like lemmings back into Battle. The Berserker Battalion barely manages to hold the line… imagine if there were no stabby troops?”

  “We’d be over run.” Galen finished the thought. “Lucifer. She wouldn’t… no, fuck, she fucking well would. Do you think my aunt, her Shamans, somehow… magically triggered all those Demons, turning them stabby in order to create a Berserker army?” Galen could tell by the apologetic look Stephanie sent his way that it was exactly the conclusion she had come to. Fuck. “And me? Why would she choose to have me triggered?”

  Stephanie swung her feet around and hopped off the bed, she could tell from the stormy rage that shuttered Galen’s face suddenly that his anger levels were spiking. His gaze ruthless and chilling. His breathing coming in short, harsh pants. The muscles in his throat and chest flexing and straining. Unafraid, she approached him, grabbing his larger hands in hers and bringing them to her chest. Getting right up in his face so the only thing he could see was her.

  Stephanie was like a bright shining beacon, washing away the black encompassing rage that threatened to sweep him away. Staring into her gorgeous blue eyes, Galen’s breathing gradually slowed and relaxed. The killing rage subsiding, as want and need re-focused his emotions. Damn, the Valkyrie made him horny as hell at the most inappropriate, or should that be the most appropriate of times? Anger receding, passion igniting, and thankfully his self-control returned.

  “Clearly there is more going on here than we ever imagined. This war. The Shaman trio. You getting hit by the stabby whammy. We know who, or at least most of the players. We are getting very close to discovering what the hell is going on here. Trust me, Galen, I won’t stop until we’ve uncovered every treacherous secret your aunt is hiding.”

  “Stabby whammy?” Galen found himself laughing. Something he would have thought impossible five minutes ago as Laynn’s heinous activities began to make themselves known. Now he was aware of the geas surrounding the history and nature of the Shamans, he knew Stephanie had to be on the right track. “Just how do you propose we go about uncovering the truth when everyone in the Palace is deathly afraid of me now, and I find I am unable to even form the right questions to ask? Exasperating the problem further, being that no one will be able to answer any questions we do manage to pose.”

  Stephanie’s gut unclenched. Galen laughing? Talking and planning with her? He was back under control, she wasn’t going to lose him, not now, not ever to Berserker mode. If she had to paint the Palace walls with blood to keep him safe, sane, then that’s what she would gleefully do.

  “Your fellow Demons might be afraid of you, but they still want their daughters to marry you. We have the perfect opportunity at tomorrow night’s Gala to do some digging. I think we can ask all the questions we want; we just need to phrase them in such a way that doesn’t trigger the magical geas the Shamans have placed over everyone.”

  “Okay, in the meantime, you can practise on me to try and identify the boundaries and exact nature of the spell so we can put together a list of work around questions. I also think we should have a chat with the Idelski. This stalemate trade deal, the timing of it? It just strikes me as way too coincidental that Laynn is dragging out the talks, promising them a solution in the near future and I just happen to be on the stabby whammy chopping block, with the countdown clock ticking away fast.”

  “Yes. Way too convenient. What do they say in the movies, follow the money? Can you take a look? You do have a lot of experience ferreting out assets.”

  “Good idea. I’ll start investigating the Idelski right now.”

  “And I’ll finish watching the last two centuries of media footage from the Western Front. Thank Freyja, for the fast forward button.”

  Neither of them moved.

  Stephanie was suddenly very conscious she was bent over, her face only inches away from Galen’s, his hands covered by hers, clasped to her breasts.

  Galen would happily drown in the ocean blue of Stephanie’s eyes. So gorgeous. Strong. Smart. Wickedly funny with an evil streak a mile wide that tickled his funny bone and made his inner Demon all but waggle its non-existent tail in appreciation. “You know, I haven’t gotten around to thanking you yet.”

  “Thanking me?”

  “For everything. You didn’t ask for any of this. Instead you are out for an innocent night stroll and fall through a mountain into my lap. Then melodrama ensues. Trapped in a subterranean cavern. Kidnapped by a Shaman. Brought here. These inane parties. Welst drooling all over you. Now we discover my aunt is potentially responsible for the loss of over six hundred of my brethren to a war that perhaps is nothing but a way to make money or a smoke screen for Lucifer knows what. I’m surprised you haven’t cut and run far and fast before this point.”

  “I gave my word. A Valkyrie’s honour is all.”

  “Is it… is it just your honour keeping you here?” Fuck, he couldn’t believe his timing. Trying to work out if Stephanie had any other motives for staying by his side to help sort out this mess. Yeah, like she might have some kind of feelings for him? Damn, he was a needy fool.

  Stephanie forced a small smile. He couldn’t know, could he? That she might be…could potentially be… contemplating thinking about the l-word when it came to him.

  Goddess above, like Galen needed any more melodrama in his life. He was no doubt trying to find a nice way to tell her to keep her emotions to herself if that was the case. Show no weakness, Valkyrie. By the Sword, your lips are only inches from his. Do not kiss the Demon, you risk exposing all your secrets.

  Stephanie did the only thing she could, short of calling her hatchets and decapitating Galen. She magic’d away her top and sat on his lap. When in trouble, kill or distract. It was like lesson five in the Valkyrie handbook. To save herself from any further embarrassment she was determined to distract with gusto and true commitment. Lif
ting Galen’s hands to cup her bare breasts. “You know, we have all of tomorrow for you to chase down the Idelski finances and for me to finish viewing the footage. What say we take a break and get some exercise? You have been pretty much cooped up in this suite all day.”

  Galen’s ink dark gaze simmered with heat. “You offering to chase me around the room for a while?”

  “If you like. What would I get as my prize when I catch you?”

  “Whatever you want. Just the say the word, it’s yours.” His words rang with truth and gravity. If he could pull down the two moons he’d give them to her. All she had to do was ask. He’d worship her from dusk until dawn if she kept looking at him like that. His eyes flicked down to those luscious lips of hers, he’d definitely start there.

  Sensing that he intended to lay a lip lock on her, Stephanie was tempted to disregard her… doubts regarding kissing him. No, she couldn’t take the chance. Thrusting her hand into the mass of silky black hair at the back of his head and pulling hard. As his chin lifted she leaned forward quickly, nuzzling the skin beneath his ear, planting heated, petal soft kisses down the side of his throat.

  “I believe it’s my turn to take control. So you just sit there and look pretty.”

  Galen groaned as Stephanie’s dexterous fingers undid his trousers, parting the material to palm his ready and hard cock. “Damn, woman.”

  Stephanie couldn’t deny she really liked how Galen responded to her touch. The feel of all those hard planes of muscle under her touch twitching and flexing. His heart racing. His cock supernova hard and heated, just for her. Pushing off from his chest, she slithered down to kneel between his legs. Face, to well… cock. Her lips twitched upwards with a smile of anticipation. “Seems like I might have just found my prize. You did say I could have whatever I wanted, right?”

  “Hell, Valkyrie. If I devolve tomorrow, I will go down the path of Berserker one strangely happy stabby Demon.”

  Stephanie bit back a growl as she slowly drew his cock towards her waiting mouth. Galen was not going stabby, even if she had to pull Lucifer up from the Pits of Hell by the short and curlies and get him to resolve the mess going on in this Realm.

  Double grrr, even if they somehow managed to fix everything, find a cure, there was no future for her and Galen. Welst had said it loud and clear. Conflict Demons rarely formed meaningful connections outside their kind. Besides, what did a suave, urbane lawyer have in common with a bloodthirsty Valkyrie warrior?

  Hmmm, besides really great sex that was. Stephanie had heard of worse reasons to base a relationship on. Relationship? Goddess above save her from herself. Before she could open her mouth and start babbling on about ridiculous fantastical things that could never come true, Stephanie was exceedingly grateful that she had something large and conveniently located right in front of her that would keep her mouth busy for a good long while.

  Damn, yet another thing to add to the list of things she was going to miss about Galen when they finally parted ways. She was definitely getting soft in her old age. Thank Freyja, the same couldn’t be said for her Demon lover.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Gala the following evening was held in the Palace Ballroom. A sumptuous room that reeked of elegance and a limitless decorating budget. Elaborate floor to ceiling mirrors. A heaping of gilt. More sparkle piled on top of the gilt. Whilst a multitude of glittering tiered chandeliers radiated little rainbows of colour down upon the crowd and the gleaming parquetry floors.

  A quartet was seated in one corner; three violinists and a cellist, playing hauntingly angst ridden music that the guests appeared to enjoy immensely. A swarm of waiters wearing silver doublets and tight black pants were meandering throughout the crowd, dispensing drinks and food from heavily laden trays.

  Around the very edges of the room, like a grim wall, stood a multitude of black clad Palace Guards, their swords holstered for the moment but they radiated tension and readiness. If an unmated Demon could turn Berserker spontaneously, then everyone was now a potential threat.

  They were here for the protection of the guests. Though making it very clear where they suspected the next threat would come from. Intently observing Galen’s movements from the moment he entered the Ballroom.

  Stephanie hadn’t ever been to such a glamourous party before. Not invited anyway.

  She’d certainly crashed a few in her time. Of course in those instances she’d been working, and taking a castle by storm whilst a distracting party was taking place was chapter one in the how to avoid a siege handbook.

  She quickly discovered not being covered in sticky blood and having to step over body parts was a surprisingly refreshing change.

  Whilst she might not be wearing her Valkyrie armour, Stephanie had kept with the theme. The gold dress she was wearing tonight was strapless, the tightly fitted bodice showcasing her best assets and narrow waist. Then the skirt kind of poufed out slightly to fall to her knees, practically demur for Stephanie. But when she’d seen Galen step out of the bathroom this evening, looking all kinds of devastating in a black tuxedo, she’d felt the need to bring her classiest A-game.

  The grin Galen had gifted her with as he eyed her from the top of her sleek high ponytail, down to her sparkling, gold, three-inch sandals. Whoa, Freyja. If they didn’t have a party to go to, and an armed escort waiting outside their suite to act as escort, she would have totally torn that tuxedo off with her teeth to get to the muscular coated candy goodness underneath.

  Focus, Valkyrie. Stop thinking about how wonderful Galen looks this evening in his tux. Or how good he smelt, his aftershave weirdly making her stomach dance. Stomping down hard on the bizarre urge to reach up and caress his clean shaven jaw. Likewise ignoring the even more insane desire to call her hatchets, bare her teeth, and challenge every single Demoness that was fluttering her lashes Galen’s way to a fight to the death.

  “No clipboard this evening?”

  “No. I must say, I kind of miss it.”

  “I have complete faith you will find a multitude of other means to get under my brethren’s skin.”

  A warm glow of pleasure unfurled in Stephanie’s gut. That was the sweetest compliment she’d received… ever. Made a pleasant change from – nice rack. Which is what she heard most frequently on the battlefield, right before she separated some leery lout’s head from his body.

  “Okay, I see Margrete, Kaleb’s mother. She’s standing over by the buffet table with some friends. I think we should start our fact finding mission with her. She likes to play at being a conspiracy theorist. Loves attending all the prepper conventions, inciting panic and mayhem in her wake. More importantly, she’s considered quite the hub for all the latest gossip.” Galen grabbed Stephanie’s hand and began sauntering towards the far right corner of the room. Steadfastly maintaining a grim scowl of death expression. Which at least made anyone who thought to engage him in conversation hesitate, and by the time they’d worked up the courage, he was long gone.

  Stephanie was dealing with another first. Holding hands? Surprisingly, she didn’t feel even the slightest desire to chop off Galen’s limb for being so presumptuous. She… damn, she found she kind of liked it. Galen’s hold was warm, gentle even, yet she could sense his underlying strength. The act, it made her feel important in his life, included, that they were equal partners.

  Heavens, she was being silly. Partners. That’s all they were. On a mission. No doubt Galen had just grabbed hold of her hand so he wouldn’t lose her in this crush. It meant nothing. Just like last night’s second sex-fest was just a way to burn off energy and keep themselves busy… again and again and… again. Yep, just a convenient stress relieving all night session. No feelings to see here, move along. Get this mission done and go your separate ways.

  Margrete Chipp was very well preserved for her approximately eight-hundred odd hell turn years. Hardly looking a day over the Earth equivalent of sixty. She was an ashy blonde, her hair cut short, but styled a little bouffant to cover the fact th
at she was a little on the short side for a Demon at only five-foot-nine. Her eyes were pale blue, sparkling, looking like they missed nothing, her smile infectious. Seeing Galen break through the crowd her whole face lit up with genuine affection. “Galen, my darling imp.”

  “Aunt Grete.” Galen leaned in to kiss her cheek before nodding at her three companions. Technically Margrete was more of a distant cousin of his mother’s, but he’d always called her aunt.

  “Excuse me ladies.” Margrete stepped away from her companions who looked a little put out that they weren’t going to get all the latest gossip directly from the guest of honour’s mouth. “Darling, you are looking so well. How are you feeling?” Margrete squeezed Galen’s arm, real sympathy lurking in her gaze.

  “I’m good. In control. I’d be remiss in not mentioning how fabulous you look this evening.” He admired her dark blue fitted long gown.

  “Thank you, but why are you wasting your time flirting with a mated old Demoness like myself, when you could be out there claiming hearts?”

  “I… we, need some answers, and I thought you might be able to help.” Galen pulled Stephanie forward.

  “Oh, my, how could I have missed you?” Margrete’s friendly gaze travelled slowly up Stephanie’s tall curvy frame, not missing the fact that Galen had a tight hold on her hand. “Aren’t you a gorgeous… Valkyrie, and a long way from home.”

  Stephanie nodded, Galen had said Margrete was sharp and a fountain of knowledge. She was the first one to guess her Valkyrie nature. Which was a good sign.

  “This is Stephanie. Stephanie, my Aunt Margrete.”

  “Your mother is going to be so jealous.” Margrete reached up to pinch Galen’s cheek. “She doesn’t know, does she? And your sisters? Please tell me I’m the first to-”

  Galen cut off Margrete before she could embarrass him and put Stephanie in an untenable position. Margrete had known him since he was a small imp playing in the lava pits with her son, Kaleb. Of course she would instantly guess at his feelings for Stephanie. “We really need your help. It’s important.”