Valkyrie Reborn

by Allyson Lindt

  “Give me your coat.” He yanked his hat off and handed it to her.

  She narrowed her eyes.

  How far did the indoctrination from her childhood run? Would she try to disable him? Kill him? She was still here. Because it didn’t matter how many lives he found her through. Even before she remembered who he was, she was always as drawn to him as he was to her.

  She shoved her hair under his hat and tugged the brim low over her face. She shrugged out of two layers of clothes, which left her in a long-sleeved top and tattered BDU pants.

  That hit too close to home, in regards to their last life together.

  They were in the alley behind the building now. The area was empty but wouldn’t be for long. She turned to him again. “Why are you—”

  “We found the weapon,” someone around the corner shouted. “Suspect is still at large.”

  Which meant Gwydion’s excuse of she’s not packing wouldn’t work this time. “Go,” he growled.

  She hesitated for a heartbeat, and then she was gone in the other direction, finding her way into the sidewalk chaos and vanishing into the crowds.

  With her training, she was safer without him. He was a soldier, not an assassin.

  He hated watching her go, regardless. He’d find her again soon, but this ranked near the bottom of the list of their first meetings.

  STARKAD

  Starkad wouldn’t pace. He refused. He was ignoring several vital tasks, as well. Like calling the organization. Checking the news. Monitoring police bandwidth.

  He couldn’t bring himself to do anything until Kirby returned, safe. She could take care of herself, in this life more than in any other, but that didn’t stop him from being concerned. If something happened to her, he would tear apart every plane of existence, for vengeance. He was done waiting for Odin’s curse to rear its head again. Gods would die by Starkad’s hand.

  The shadow of silent footsteps appeared under the crack in the door, and every muscle in his body tensed.

  Then there was a knock. Not too loud. Not too soft. Three quick, solid raps. A cautious glance through the peephole confirmed it was Kirby.

  He composed himself and let her in. A nearly overwhelming urge spilled through him—the same one he felt every time she was around, but more potent than ever—to grip her hair, claim her mouth, and dive into her essence.

  He’d gotten good at suppressing that. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he said plainly.

  She brushed past him, jaw clenched, and dropped onto the edge of the bed. She rubbed her face, rather than meeting his gaze. Where did she get the hat? A new flavor of concern joined the blend already growing inside. She could have snagged it from a random place, but three embroidered gold crowns on blue canvas weren’t the kind of design one saw every day. The image was King Arthur’s crest, and Gwydion had been wearing it for as long as he’d been telling people he’d been the king.

  “Ruby?” The nickname was one of the few concessions he allowed himself. It was what he’d called her in her first life, because she was drawn to roses and blood and all things hauntingly, beautifully red.

  She finally looked up. “Who’s your contact in TOM?”

  He’d told her in the past it was safest for everyone if she didn’t know. That wasn’t a complete lie. If she realized Brit was the one supplying him information, it might break Kirby. More likely though, she’d refuse to comply, and renew her hunt to see her former partner dead. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

  “It was Brit.” She spat the name as if it tasted foul. “The team leader on this mission. It was Brit.”

  “I didn’t know. I don’t know who’s being sent any more than my contact knows you’re the one I’m working with.” Both true. Brit thought Kirby was dead. It was best that way. “Did she see you?”

  “If her spotter is any good at their job, they know it was me. Fuck.” Kirby drove her fist into the mattress. “She was right there. A hundred meters away. And I missed her. I fired a fucking flash grenade, and she got away.”

  And now both women knew about each other. Fuck was an understatement. “The target is safe. That’s all that matters. You accomplished the primary mission.”

  “Fuck the primary mission.” Kirby was on her feet, doing the pacing Starkad had denied himself. She stalked like a caged cat—graceful, stunning, and deadly. “Okay, so not really. Yay. Hurray. The target is safe. Now there are TOMs in this city. Brit. You heard me say that, right?”

  “I get it.” He kept his voice calm.

  “No. You don’t. She betrayed me. I almost died because of her. She said I—” Kirby swallowed hard.

  He’d been there, through all of it. He not only understood, he’d also lived centuries of betrayal. Though Kirby had never turned against him, so maybe he didn’t completely understand.

  “Tell me everything that happened this morning.” If he could get her to talk through things, it would force her to think, rather than feel. Years of watching Kirby pull herself back together, after he extracted her from the school, had given him a solid idea of what helped her stay sane.

  She paused in the middle of the hotel room and faced him. Anger and hurt flashed in her eyes. She could mask her feelings from almost anyone, but she’d gotten careless with him over time. She recounted the details of her morning, from his call to the TOMs being in the other building, up to finding Brit’s AUG.

  Starkad wanted to argue that maybe it was someone else’s. Even if that was plausible, she wouldn’t want to hear it.

  “And then there was this guy with the cops. They thought he was one of them.” She trailed off, her rage fading.

  Well, shit. He’d known Gwydion and Min wouldn’t be held off much longer. Of course they’d picked this mission to crash. Because if one of them was here, they both were. An Egyptian god of passion and a Welsh god of... Starkad wasn’t even sure what Gwydion was claiming this decade. The situation had gone from mess to dumpster fire.

  “Then what?” Starkad prompted.

  Kirby frowned. “Then he told them he was taking my statement, and he helped me get away. I swear I didn’t trust him. I didn’t give him any information. I went along with it because it was a way out. He didn’t follow me.”

  Starkad wasn’t worried about that. Kirby was the best at what she did. His concern was that she felt the need to justify her actions. “I’m glad you’re safe. I’ll check in. Sit tight until I have our next steps,” he said.

  “Our next step is finding Brit. I’m going to finish the job.” The fire was back in Kirby’s voice.

  “That’s not your call to make. We protect the target. We ensure they’re in protective custody. We move to the next location.” He stopped himself when she clenched her jaw.

  “I work with this organization because they point us in a direction. I don’t take orders from anyone. And I didn’t think you did either.”

  If only life were that simple. “We play by their rules because it’s how we get what we want.” They’d had this fight before. They’d had most of their fights multiple times. “If you want Brit, if you want TOM, you don’t piss off the people helping us get them.”

  Kirby scoffed and shook her head. “She’s here now. I want to find her. If she’s on her way to the airport. We should be too.”

  “Are you going to shoot her in the middle of Terminal One?” Starkad asked. “The same day someone blew up a building downtown? Are you going to hop on her flight and pray you can hide yourself for the next couple of hours? From the one person in that organization who’s almost as good as you, and who probably knows you’re here now?”

  If Kirby said yes, Starkad would follow. He didn’t want it to come to that. Please let her be reasonable.

  “Fine.” She flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I’ll sit tight. But I’m hitting the hotel bar, and I’m charging it to the room. Urd can pick up my tab.”

  “Fine.” He would lecture her on being careful, but she had careful programmed into her. Sh
e’d watch her surroundings. She wouldn’t actually drink. And she’d fuck some random stranger.

  He hated that last one, but he let it slide. The alternative was telling her why he didn’t want her to be with anyone else. Admitting to her that the one thing he wanted more than anything was her.

  Kirby pushed to her feet, crossed the room to Starkad, and stopped less than a foot away. She stood so close he could smell the sweat and grime and stress from her morning out, and the hint of desire underneath. She usually hid that better.

  “Unless you’d like to be my company for the next couple of hours.” She studied him through her eyelashes, her posture abruptly submissive and demure.

  He knew exactly what she wanted, because he wanted it too. She wanted him to bind her. Mark her naked flesh. Make her whimper in pain, and then bury himself inside her until she came over and over, and neither of them could think. His cock ached from the suggestion.

  She looked like the woman he’d loved. Sounded like her. Moved like her. But until she remembered her past lives, she wasn’t his Ruby. She was the girl he’d watched grow from awkward teenager to defiant, stunning woman.

  “I have work to do.” He had no idea where he found the strength to make his voice hard.

  Kirby’s sweetness vanished into a sneer. “Great. Have fun doing whatever you do. I’m gonna shower, sleep, and then get laid.” She waved over her shoulder and walked out of the room.

  If Gwydion and Min were here, she’d start to remember soon. Gwydion had that impact on her. Until then, Starkad would see her stay sane and safe a little longer.

  Chapter Eight

  6 Years Ago - Kirby

  This mission was only recon, but Kirby didn’t care. She was finally out in the field. All the training had paid off, and here she was.

  Even better, Brit was her spotter. They had their own hotel room, a generous expense account—so they could play the part of the people they pretended to be—and an entire night stretching ahead of them that didn’t require them to be anywhere. A movie with lots of explosions and weakly written romance played in the background.

  “This. We have to do this.” Brit turned her laptop toward Kirby, to show her the screen.

  A vast array of sweets, from cake to ice cream to cookies, greeted Kirby. “The only question is, where do we start?”

  Brit looked at the screen again. “With the cake. They have a Party Sampler that comes with a little of everything.”

  “There’s no way we can eat a party sampler of cake.” Though Kirby was willing to try. At home, their diets were as strict as their workout regimen. It was time to take advantage of a new menu.

  “Ordering now.” Brit’s fingers flew across the keyboard.

  Being out on their own for the first time wasn’t the only reason Kirby was so happy. After what happened in Starkad’s class two years ago, when he broke her ankle, it was months before Brit talked to her again. Kirby spent even longer proving that she’d never meant to undermine her. That there was nothing but respect and friendship there.

  Nothing but was a little misleading. As Kirby watched Brit now, smiling and ordering cake, fantasy tickled her imagination. Of what it would be like, to crawl across the bed and kiss Brit. To spend hours stripping each other down, exploring Brit’s body. Tasting her...

  Kirby let the movie play out in the back of her mind but dragged most of her attention from it. One of the classes she’d struggled with was Seduction. She was too direct and didn’t care for the subtleties of pretending to like someone.

  Brit tossed the laptop on the adjoining bed, where it landed with a faint poof. “Supposedly, we’ll have cake in forty-five minutes.”

  “I love it. Who knew cake delivery was a thing? I mean, pizza? Okay. Should we get pizza? Do we need dinner, to balance out dessert?”

  “Uh... not.” Brit screwed her face up in mock disgust. “Next you’re going to suggest we have them bring us a salad to go with it.”

  “I would never.” Kirby laughed. The salads at school were the worst. Spinach and kale, swimming in vinegar and oil. Not all the food was bad, but the salads... She could live her entire life happily, never eating another.

  She twisted and flopped onto her back on the mattress, so she could lie flat and still see Brit. “What should we do until it gets here?”

  They could go over their instructions for tomorrow—building layouts, schedules, streets—but it had all been drilled into their heads, and Kirby could recite the information they had in their sleep. Besides, she wanted space left in her thoughts for whatever they found on reconnaissance.

  “Dunno.” Brit lay down so her head was next to Kirby’s, her body pointed in the other direction. “Seems like we should have a longer list, doesn’t it?”

  “Kind of.” They weren’t really deprived in school; they had to know how to function in the outside world. But they weren’t able to do anything that didn’t fit into an evening’s time. Cross-country road trips. Disneyland. Backpacking across Europe.

  “Truth or dare?” Brit asked.

  Kirby rolled her eyes. “Did you read that in a book? Besides, we already know each other’s deep dark secrets.”

  “Not all of them.” Brit scrambled to sit up again. “There are some things we’ve never shared.”

  “Did you have something in mind? Something you’re dying to get off your chest?”

  “Not me. You.”

  Kirby rolled her head to the side, to study her. “What do I need to confess?” Besides the intense desire she had to be with the woman next to her.

  “Hmm...” Brit tapped her chin. “Are you a natural blonde?”

  “What?” Kirby had no idea where the question came from, but it was funny. “Pretending you haven’t seen me naked in the shower a million times, yes. It’s natural. I haven’t secretly been bleaching my hair since I was thirteen. That’s like me asking you if your lips are really that full and red.”

  “These?” Brit licked her lips.

  Kirby wanted to tilt her head up and do the same.

  “Only one way to know for sure.” Brit straddled Kirby’s waist, dipped her head, and brushed her mouth over Kirby’s.

  Kirby groaned into the kiss, and lifted her head up to feel more of the soft skin against hers. Tingles raced over her skin. This was nothing like seduction training in school. Every inch of her body hummed with need. No sex she’d had prepared her for the pleasant buzz filling her thoughts, and this was only a kiss.

  Brit pulled away with a playful grin but didn’t move. “I get another question.”

  “If I get another kiss.” Kirby didn’t care if this was just a game. It felt incredible, and she was going to enjoy as much of it as she could get. The ping in her heart argued she did care. But she was willing to ignore that for now.

  “That’s a trade I’m willing to make,” Brit said. “Did you ever fuck any of our teachers?”

  Images of Starkad overlapped with those of Brit playing in Kirby’s mind. But they were all pretend. “When would I have ever had time for that?”

  “You were in the infirmary for a month.” She sounded serious.

  Kirby stared at her. “No, I haven’t fucked any of the teachers. Have you? Who would I have even...? No.”

  “Me neither.” Brit shrugged. “But I heard rumors Starkad came to visit you. He asked to see you alone.”

  “And he apologized for breaking my foot, but told me I deserved it for making you look bad. You know that.”

  Brit rested her hands on either side of Kirby’s head and kissed her again, lightly enough to tease but not sate. “Did you ever want to?”

  “Yes.” Kirby had no idea if the answer would ruin the moment. “But so does half of everyone. I’d fuck Chris Evans if he offered, too. That doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.”

  Brit kissed her harder this time. Lingering. Gliding her tongue along the seam of Kirby’s lips.

  Kirby parted her mouth and let her in, diving into the moment. Desire and anticipation flo
oded her. She could lose herself in this forever. She linked her fingers at the base of Brit’s neck, holding her in place and devouring her.

  Brit nipped Kirby’s bottom lip when she pulled away. “I knew you’d be a Captain America girl.” Her lips were bright red and swollen.

  Did Kirby look like that? She hoped so. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “Nope. For you, it’s perfect. Kirby the Super Soldier. Created to save the world from irresponsible gods.”

  Kirby had to admit she liked it. “Think I can get a shield like his?”

  “Probably not. But I think your ass would look better in that outfit.”

  Kirby flushed at the compliment. “I’d have to dye it, though. Can you imagine how much attention I’d draw, wandering the streets in red and white stripes?”

  “Maybe everyone would ignore you.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “No one wants to make eye-contact with the nutjob.” Brit stuck her tongue out.

  Someone knocked, and Kirby’s heart jammed in her throat.

  “Cake.” Brit giggled and climbed off her. “I’ll get it.”

  Right. Kirby couldn’t ignore the longing that sank in when Brit’s weight was gone. Could they get that moment back?

  Brit chatted with the delivery guy for a moment, and locked the door when he left. She half-skipped back with two large boxes and set them on the table. “What do you want to try first?”

  “Whatever looks good.” Kirby needed to be okay with things if Brit had been fooling around. She couldn’t be wounded. She had to wrap up her heart and protect it.

  “All of it looks good.” Brit looked at the first open box. “Snipp, snapp, snute, du er ute.” As she recited a rhyme they’d learned in school, she pointed to a new piece of cake with each syllable. “This’ll do.” She plunged a plastic knife into the box, then pulled two slices of something chocolate out. “I think this one is strawberries and ganache.”

  That sounded yummy. Better than yummy. Just the thought of the flavor combination made Kirby’s mouth water. She almost swore her nipples tingled. Was she getting turned on by dessert? Or she was still stuck in the need that Brit’s teasing filled her with.