by Anne Schlea
Torhild wavers on her feet, fighting the strength of Runa’s pull, but then topples backward. Runa follows her to the floor, the blade still clutched in her right hand.
Hitting the floor with a grunt, Torhild’s eyes open wide to see Runa’s blade coming toward her face with all the speed and strength Runa’s capable of. With nowhere to go, her hands come up in a useless attempt to block the blow.
Runa slams the blade into the rock floor with so much strength it breaks in two.
The room around her erupts in screams.
She’s defeated the seated leader of the valkyrie nation. Holy hell, what has she done?
With no other option since vanishing into thin air isn’t possible, Runa pushes up from the floor and looks down at Torhild. “I grant you mercy and disgrace.”
Torhild, equally unsure of what to do, stays on the ground until one of her sisters comes to gather her from the floor. She glares at Runa. “You bed with the vampires; you will be no leader of ours.”
“It would seem neither are you.” Runa stands taller, stronger, power sifting through her veins from the walls of Valhalla itself. She didn’t realize the power that came with leadership, but she feels the energy of Freyja flowing through her. “The power of our mother Freyja doesn’t agree with you, Torhild. Take your seat.”
Torhild stands in front of her, looking like she might argue, until the sister holding her up tugs her arm to move her away.
Moving casually, with no hurry, Runa picks up her war sword from the ground. She wipes it down on the edge of her shirt and then sheaths it on her back. Next, she takes her jacket from Britta’s outstretched hands and puts it on. Finally, she looks around the room, at each valkyrie in the eyes. “Anyone else?”
No one speaks, most of her sisters look at the floor.
After ample time had passed for someone to speak up, Runa approaches the seat of leadership. Carefully, she sits, tall and straight. Ahead of her, she can see the doorway to the Great Hall, and the fires burning beyond in the torches.
“Now.” Runa looks around the room. “It’s time to make a few changes in the way we run things around here. But first, let us discuss the issue of war.”
Chapter 19
“Tell me something I can tell my mate.” Zartan twists his coffee cup around in a circle on the table. He’s fidgeting, which is unusual for him; the topic at hand is an uncomfortable one. Zartan isn’t used to asking for favors.
“You know the rules.” Kristoff feels for him, but oaths are oaths; he understands too clearly how important Stephanie’s safety is to Arthur. “I can tell you they’re fine. The baby’s fine. When Stephanie gives birth, I will make sure Antonia gets a photo – a paper photo that can’t be electronically traced. No more than that. Information is dangerous and my oath is to Arthur, not you.”
“You’re sure we can’t arrange one phone call?” He looks hopeful. “This is breaking her heart.”
“Not even for my queen. This is war, Zartan.” Kristoff raises an eyebrow. “Would you willingly risk Antonia for a phone call?”
“No.” Zartan concedes. “You know if I don’t ask, she’ll have my hide.”
War talk lightens to baby talk. It’s been weeks since any nosferatu attacks. Patrols are coming up empty night after night. While Zartan and Kristoff would like to believe that the enemy has given up and gone into hiding, that’s doubtful. More likely, they’re regrouping, consolidating, and forming a better plan.
They’re all waiting to see what the other races decide to do. Join the fight or stay at home and protect themselves. It may be quiet, but no one from any race believes it will last.
“How’s she doing?” Kristoff watches his security move around the atrium of the hotel. There still hasn’t been a breech, although Damian has taken Tara and returned to Charleston to establish himself as the Toiseach of his clan. A dozen of Zartan’s best went with them to set up new security for the young Toiseach. “Antonia?”
“She’s adjusting. I don’t think my home is ever going to be my own again. There’s been a constant stream of ambassadors vying for her attention. It’s like being at Versailles all over again.” Zartan shifts to retrieve his phone from his pocket. He reads the text and clears the screen. “Speaking of. I need to go.”
Zartan stands from the table, looking around the restaurant. The weapon holstered under his jacket flashes for the briefest moment. His eyes fall on a siren sitting at the bar chatting with a business traveler. They linger for a moment, curious, then move back to Kristoff.
“Have you heard from Runa?” Zartan asks the question casually as he takes one last taste of his coffee. It still hits Kristoff in the gut.
“No.” He stands, too, and motions for the waiter to clear the table. “Her cell phone is still off.”
“Hang in there.” Zartan reaches out to shake Kristoff’s hand. “Maybe one night you’ll come home and she’ll be waiting with wine and roses. Go to your rooms. Get some rest, friend, you look like you need it.”
Kristoff turns the handle to the door of his suite and his body draws up tight. There’s a scent on the air that hadn’t been there when he left to meet Zartan. Closing his eyes, he breathes deep, his heart speeding. It’s subtle, a slight change in the air, a displacement of something he can’t quite put his finger on.
He pushes the door open to find rose petals scattered on the floor, making a trail toward the balcony door. He chuckles. “Wine and roses. Nicely played, my friend.”
Runa is standing on the balcony waiting. The setting sun has painted the sky above the hotel and behind her golden red. She’s waiting for him, hands clasped in front of her, her blond hair curled and flowing down her back. She’s dressed in a simple black dress that hugs her curves and falls to just above her knees, delicate stiletto heels on her feet. The sapphire bracelet he gave her for the vampire summit is on her wrist.
“You’re back.” He immediately wishes his words were more eloquent, that he’d thought about what he wanted to say when he saw her again.
“The shopping in Milan was terrible this year.” She lets out a frustrated sounding breath, waving her hand in the air. “And it’s still so chilly in Paris right now. I guess here is as good as anywhere to be.”
Kristoff smiles and doesn’t bother to try and hide it. “I missed you.”
“Of course you did, everyone misses me when I’m not here. You’re all very dull without me.” She flips a golden curl over her shoulder, then her eyes focus. “Business first. The valkyrie go to war.”
He nods. It’s not a surprise. He expected such. “Against us?”
“No.” Her smile tightens and her eyes harden. “They stand with you under a new leader. Torhild has been overthrown. There will be an emissary from the War Council - the leader who now speaks on behalf of the valkyrie.”
“Who?”
Runa waves her hand through the air again, her eyes looking away from him at the floor despite her words being light and playful. “It’s complicated and really boring. Let’s talk about that later. I have way more important things to discuss with you.”
“Really?” He smiles and takes a step closer.
She holds her hand out to stop him, takes one deep breath and then another. Kristoff’s heart drops, she’s going to tell him good-bye. After everything they’ve been through, this is the end. Finally, she looks up at him, makes a face, and speaks again. “Don’t look at me like that. This isn’t good-bye, but I need to do this before I lose the nerve.”
Kristoff raises an eyebrow. When did Runa ever lose the nerve to do anything?
“If you’re really sure you want me around every day, then I guess I’m yours.” Her brow furrows in a frown as she thinks over her words. “Or you’re mine, more to the point. I’m sure you’ll want to do some kind of overly dramatic vampire ceremony later, but tonight we’ll need to have a valkyrie mating ceremony. It has to happen on the night of the full moon after I’m granted permission by my sisters and I took too long getting back here, s
o tonight’s the night.”
All humor drains from Kristoff’s body. Had she just said what he thought she said? “Excuse me?”
“There’s a time limit, you see.” She keeps the lighthearted tone to her voice, but Runa moves her eyes to stare at the bracelet around her wrist. She plays with it, spinning it around. “It’s a whole thing, there were swords and lots of yelling…you really don’t need the details. The important thing is that I won you and now I have until, like, the moon rises tomorrow complete the marriage ceremony or else I have to go through this whole thing again. I didn’t think there’d be actual rules until we started digging in the archives at Valhalla; that’s where this time-limit thing comes in. We really should look at changing that…”
“I thought valkyrie hated men.” He latches onto the most substantial fact his brain can land on. “I didn’t know you even had a mating ceremony. Or marriage. Whatever.”
“There’s a lot about valkyrie you don’t know. There’s a lot I don’t know. There’s a lot Torhild kept from us, but that’s going to change. This is the wrong topic; we can talk about that later.” She looks up, her eyes locking with his, her lips curling into a sly smile. She has him and she knows it. “So, how serious are you about this permanent relationship thing?”
She steps to the side to reveal a table on the balcony behind her. It has a spray of red roses in a crystal vase, two lit candles with an unlit candle between them, sprigs of rosemary and cedar, and two black velvet boxes with rings inside.
This time, Kristoff actually has to grab the edge of the doorway to keep from falling over. She brought rings.
“You’re only getting one shot at this, Russian.” She smiles and steps toward him, holding out her hand. “I think if I tried this again because you turn me down today, my sisters really will kill me and give the seat of leadership back to Torhild. I’m kind of banking on us making it to prove to the valkyrie that love can be as powerful as vengeance.”
“You’re serious.” He holds back from her, afraid to believe her words.
“I am.” When he doesn’t take her hand, she reaches up to lay her palm against his cheek. “Let’s make this thing official.”
Kristoff reaches his hand up to hold hers more firmly to his cheek. “Your wish, my command.”
Smiling, Runa steps toward the table. She guides him through a very simple ceremony of lighting the unlit candle, speaking a few words, and then she gifts him with a valkyrie dagger made in the forge at Valhalla. Only then does she lean into him with a deepening kiss.
He pulls back and glances at the other hotel windows facing them. “Perhaps we should finish this inside.”
“Good idea.” Runa takes a step toward the balcony door, but Kristoff stops her by scooping her up in his arms. She half-heartedly struggles against him; he tightens his grip around her.
“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting go of you.” He buries his nose in her hair. “I didn’t think you were coming back. I thought you’d gone off to fight with your sisters for good.”
“Fight.” Her body shakes as she stifles a giggle. “We did plenty of that. We fought for days over the war. Over you and the place of someone like you in our world. They came to see reason.”
Kristoff kicks the balcony door closed behind him and carries her to the bedroom they’d shared. The door is already open; he can see she’s scattered rose petals through that room, too. Candles burn on the dresser and nightstand, along with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “You must have planned this out.”
“I needed to focus on something while I was waiting to fight in the Great Hall.” She sighs happily when he kisses her behind the ear. “If I’d only thought about how many of my sisters I might have to defeat, I would have gone crazy.”
Kristoff stops, her words running through his mind. “Fought in the Great Hall?”
“It’s how I earned the privilege to keep you.” She blushes. “I did mention that you’re technically my property by valkyrie law now, right?”
“Mmmmm.” He narrows his eyes at her; it seems he’s going to need an education on valkyrie law. “You might have left that part out.”
“It’s only in valkyrie territory.” Runa has the sense to look guilty. “It might not come up, so long as we stay away from my sisters as much as possible.”
“Define valkyrie territory.” Kristoff tries to make his voice sound as stern as he can, but he’s sure the damage is already done, and he isn’t going to like the answer.
“Anywhere one of my sisters is located.” She runs a hand down his chest, looking for buttons to undo. “You don’t see them that often….”
“Until your representative to Antonia’s court arrives. Who’s going to be joining us from the War Council, nosh?” A feeling of foreboding is starting to settle over Kristoff. Trust Runa to give him the one thing he desires more than anything on this planet only to attach strings of complication. He has a bad feeling about the identity of this new leader.
“You’re focusing on the wrong part of the conversation.” Runa wiggles, trying to force him to set her down. “We have other things to focus on.”
Her hands start to pull at the buttons on Kristoff’s shirt, her lips coming up to kiss him under the chin. He groans and shifts his arms to set her on the bed. Even without seeing her, he can feel her smile. Warnings of valkyrie who kill their lovers echo through his mind.
“This isn’t the last of this conversation, nosh.” He prowls over her, Runa sinking into the bedding below him, still working on the buttons to his shirt.
“I know, dear.” Her fingernails skim across his bare skin, breaking him out in goosebumps and sending shivers down his spine. Moments later, her hands tug at his belt. “I brought you a present. It’s on the table.”
“I mean it, Runa.” He groans, the belt comes off and disappears into a corner of the room. Using her legs as leverage, she rolls with him until she’s straddled on his stomach.
She reaches over to the nightstand and grabs the small, white box. “Open it.”
“Now?” His voice sounds strangled, other things on his mind, but he reaches up to take the box out of her hand. If opening this box is what Runa’s mind is on, then nothing will stop her. He might as well get it over with so they can move on to more important matters. “Can’t it wait?”
“Nope.” She smiles and pushes her hips downward, causing him to draw in a deep breath. “Now.”
“I swear you’re going to kill me one day.” He firmly stills her movements with a strong grip on her hips. Then he quickly removes the yellow bow from the top of the box and looks inside. It’s an old-fashioned looking key. He raises an eyebrow.
Runa smiles and takes it from his hands. “It’s not a real key, but I couldn’t exactly wrap a car and bring it up here. Since the car I bought you doesn’t use a key, I had to improvise.”
“You bought me a car?” Kristoff looks to the box top on the floor with its ribbon. His stomach drops and his head starts to spin. He’s pretty sure there’s a headache coming. “Please tell me it isn’t yellow.”
“It is!” She claps her hands and bounces on her knees, causing Kristoff to grunt when the air is pushed from his lungs. “It’s just like the old one, I knew you’d love it!”
Kristoff sits up, pushing Runa back onto the bed. “You bought me a Kissel 6-45? That car’s an antique, and probably worth $200,000!”
“It’s worth exactly $200,000, which is why my bodyguards are down in the garage standing guard around it.” She grins, her eyes sparkling. “They weren’t very happy with their assignment, but you did tell them to listen to me and it still works!”
He falls back on the bed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. She’d bought him that damned yellow car. It’s probably filled with moonshine, too. Wait! Is moonshine still illegal? Probably whatever stuff Runa came up with is. They might make a legal version now, but that wouldn’t excite Runa enough. He might need to send someone down there to empty the car and stash the illegal b
rew before the DEA come knocking on his door.
“I know you’re super excited about the car, but we’ll need to take it out for a spin later. We have other pressing matters at hand.” She raises an eyebrow and slides back up his body to indicate what kind of pressing she means. The dress comes over her head, revealing nothing underneath, effectively ending Kristoff’s frustration and any coherent thought.
What car?
Epilogue
The morning sunshine bathes Serene’s balcony in golden light and warmth, a fine accompaniment to her morning coffee and newspaper. Sipping her French press coffee and wishing for the better brew she’d become accustomed to in Milan, Serene scans the headlines. No mention of unknown deaths or strange markings on dead bodies.
Good. Her nosferatu contact is doing exactly what she told him to do – lay low. The creatures are immortal. It isn’t like they can’t sit still for a few weeks to wait for the heat to pass. If they’re lucky, Zartan and friends will get bored, move on to another crisis, and forget about everything that’s been going on with the medical labs.
Personally, she doesn’t see the fascination. Why the need to know how the biology of a mermaid works? Or if a valkyrie can produce young? Does it really matter? She gets that nosferatu aren’t capable of reproducing on their own, but as long as maji exist, their race will be fine. Quit worrying about it.
“Serene, your guest has arrived.” One of Serene’s sirens step in the doorway leading back into her apartment.
“Fabulous, send her out.” She closes her newspaper.
Torhild, in her habitual black pants and shirt, is shown out the door to the balcony. Her eyes blink against the light of the morning sun until she slides sunglasses on. Then she focuses on Serene.
Gesturing to the empty chair on the other side of her breakfast table, Serene smiles warmly. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Please.” She walks to the glass railing of the balcony and looks out. They’re near the top floor of the tallest residential building in Atlanta, and it’s a long way to the street below. She takes the seat Serene offers and slides down. The apartment building is all white and chrome. Torhild looks completely out of place. “You’ve heard by now, I assume?”