Shatterproof

by Stein Willard

  “Do you know who the address belongs to?”

  “Yes. It’s the offices of a private security firm.” He glanced at one of his men. “A reputable firm with branches across Europe.”

  Loki finished his drink. “Anything else?”

  “The target was rushed by ambulance to an emergency room early this morning.” He had a satisfied gleam in his dark eyes. “We have an inside man at the hospital, who’s keeping us updated on the target’s condition. It seems the woman is in a coma.” The man smiled broadly. “It’s almost too easy.”

  You have no idea, Loki thought. “If it looks too easy, then it probably is. Tell your man not to make a move until he hears from me.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  He rose to refill his glass. “I need to be alone for now.” He waited until the room was cleared before he doubled over, hugging his stomach. A sheen of cold sweat formed on his forehead. If he wanted to survive this, he needed to calm the hell down.

  Besides, he needed to find someone who might actually be a worthy opponent for Hlif. Centuries might’ve passed, but he still had a few favours he could call in.

  Unpaid favours never expire.

  ***

  Shawn couldn’t believe his eyes. There was simply no way to explain what he was witnessing without running the risk of being admitted to a mental institution. It must be the most dehumanizing act he’d ever seen committed against another being. To render someone with such a dazzling presence and vitality, into a speechless, cold and motionless mass, was horrifying. It was terrible for the ones witnessing it, but it must be even worse for the one experiencing it.

  “It’s… it’s…” he couldn’t even find the words.

  “Help her!” Magarethe’s voice was thick with unshed tears. The emotional request spurred Shawn into action and he stepped closer, holding out the lock of hair. When nothing seemed to happen, he began to panic. Hlif had instructed him to bring the lock close to her body. He did that and nothing happened.

  “Closer. Go closer.” Magarethe grabbed the lock of hair and holding it in her hand, cupped Hlif’s cheek.

  Shawn heard a soft cracking sound. He pulled Magarethe away and shielded her with his body just in time before the granite husk around Hlif exploded, shooting shards in all directions. They turned slowly to find Hlif standing before them, looking unaffected by the transformation.

  She calmly dusted herself off and picked up the lock of hair, which she thrust into the pocket of her jeans. “We need to get back to Bo.”

  Shawn nodded, once again rendered mute by the change in Hlif. As far as proving a point goes, that ranked top of the list for him.

  “How are you feeling?” The question sounded lame, but Shawn found that he genuinely wanted to know.

  Hlif gave him a probing look, but before she could respond, maybe to tell him not to ask stupid questions, Magarethe moved into the arms of the Valkyrie. She clung to the younger woman and Hlif’s arms protectively curled around Magarethe’s wiry frame. Giving them some privacy, Shawn moved over to where Harald stood, watching the women.

  “Only a very strong woman could endure something like that for almost two thousand years,” Harald muttered softly. “I’ve only been aware of my previous life for the past two hundred years and already the thought of relearning everything in my next life, is wearing on me. Hlif went through that every day for over two thousand years.”

  Shawn looked at the man with sudden interest. Here was a great source for most of the information he needed. He threw a glance at the two women and noticed that they were sharing a silent look, their arms still around each other. It appeared they were oblivious of Shawn and Harald’s presence.

  “Could I buy you a coffee, Harald?”

  The man shrugged. “Sure.”

  ***

  The battle was particularly vicious, with the Gaels retaliating to the sound thrashing Gurith and her warriors dealt them. After a month of minor, probing battles, to test each other’s battle strategy, Gurith had won all of them and had hoped that would be enough to convince the enemy to fall back and leave their shores. But they obviously read the outcome of the small skirmishes differently than she did.

  A warrior cut down one of her men and came directly for her. He was huge and his axe was stained red with the blood of her brothers. Bloodlust surged through her as she advanced on him. He was a head taller than her and twice her weight, but instead of seeing herself as being at a disadvantage, Gurith saw his size as a great opportunity. His bulk and that heavy axe were slowing him down.

  They met with a mighty clash of weapons. His greater strength almost threw her off balance, but she used her smaller, leaner form to absorb his blows instead of blocking them. After a few rattling blows, she noticed that his movements were slackening. He was tiring and it was time to end this. When he lifted his axe for a downward swing, she kicked out at his knee. The brief, ensuing moments of surprise and hesitation, allowed her to lash out and run her sword through his chest.

  As the man fell to his knees, Gurith’s senses went into overdrive. She turned, just in time to see two enemy combatants bearing down on her. Before they could reach her, a tall form intercepted them and Gurith watched with surprise as the newcomer cut the men down with spectacular skill and speed.

  Although the warrior was fighting on her side, Gurith sensed something wasn’t adding up. She knew all her warriors and had at one time or another sparred against them during their practice sessions. She didn’t recognize this warrior’s fighting style. Gurith needed to keep the warrior close to determine why he had infiltrated her army.

  “Stay with me,” she ordered. The warrior turned to her and she found herself looking into a mysterious dark grey gaze.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Three brutal hours later, Gurith entered her tent, bloodied and thrumming with the aftereffects of bloodlust. Her page quickly divested her of her chainmail and handed her a horn filled with cool, frothing ale.

  “Send in the warrior.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  The warrior was shown in and Gurith noticed that he still wore his helmet. Irritated, she pointed at his head. “If you want to talk to me, you will remove your helmet.” Her irritation grew when the warrior hesitated before he slowly removed his headgear. Gurith almost choked on her drink when she realized that her guest was, in fact, a woman. A good-looking one with long raven locks and penetrating dark grey eyes. The fact that the woman wasn’t showing any reverence to Gurith’s station; made her wonder if she may have been too hasty to invite a stranger into her tent, especially one with such a remarkable fighting skill.

  “Who are you?”

  The woman cocked her head slightly. “I am not sure you will believe me if I tell you.”

  Gurith ground her teeth in annoyance. “Why did you infiltrate my army?”

  “I wanted to meet you.”

  Cold dread filled Gurith. She was here to assassinate her. She glanced at the chest that held her weapons. She should’ve armed herself before asking the warrior to join her.

  “You won’t need a weapon, Gurith. I am not here to harm you.”

  Gurith glared at the warrior woman. “I did not give you the right to address me by name.”

  The woman nodded. “I know, but I am not here as your subordinate.” She approached Gurith. She was a head taller than Gurith and up close; there was a peculiar aura about her. She was looking at Gurith with something akin to admiration. “I had to come see you for myself and now that I did, I am convinced. You are indeed the most beautiful woman alive.”

  Gurith found herself gaping at the warrior in speechless surprise. This stranger had insinuated herself in Gurith’s army for something so trivial. Gurith felt a small flutter in the pit of her stomach. As trivial as it may be, it was also exceedingly exciting at the same time. She took a steadying breath and a long drink of her ale. Her night seemed to have taken an interesting turn.

  “What shall I call you, warrior?”<
br />
  The tall woman smiled. “You can call me Hlif.” She turned away, giving Gurith her back. Two things shocked Gurith about that action. Firstly, no one turned their back on her and secondly, the sight of the powerful wings sprouting from the woman’s back stunned her.

  Her brain worked fast and hard to make sense of everything that had transpired in the past few minutes. Her eyes grew wide as she finally came to a bewildering conclusion. Wings, combined with the name Hlif and the formidable skill on the battlefield could only mean one thing.

  If all the stories her mother had told her as a young child were true, then she was in the presence of none other than Hlif, the Supreme Valkyrie and daughter of Odin, the Ruler of Valhalla. That also meant that she was completely outranked. She slowly lay the horn down on a nearby table.

  Almost breathless with awe, she spoke up. “What can I do for you, milady?”

  Hlif turned to face her, a small smile on her lips. “I would like to get to know you better. Would that be fine with you?”

  Gurith swallowed hard. What a stirring request. “Yes, milady.”

  “Call me Hlif. I believe we will grow to be close friends.”

  ***

  Magarethe’s eyes were warm with a mixture of regret and affection.

  “How did you manage to turn out to be so warm and caring after everything you’ve been through?”

  Hlif smiled. “I had a wonderful mother and a great woman who loved me.”

  “Bo?” A wondrous look came over Magarethe’s face. “She kept you alive.”

  “She did.”

  Magarethe shook her head. “How did you manage without giving up?”

  A nurse peered into the room. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”

  “We were just leaving,” Hlif said as she took Magarethe’s hand and led her from the room. They stopped at the nurse’s station to enquire about Bo before they continued to the waiting room.

  “You didn’t answer me. How come you never gave up?”

  “She made me promise not to.” Hlif stretched out her long legs. “She was gone so suddenly, I never got a chance to say goodbye.” She glanced at Magarethe. “I needed to see her again.”

  “Now that you’ve found her what’s going to happen?”

  Hlif was scared of the answer. “The curse can only be broken when Bo remembers and returns my love.”

  “That will be easy.”

  Hlif scoffed. “She’s a very stubborn woman.”

  “And I bet you love that about her,” Magarethe said with a twinkle in her eye. She reminded Hlif so much of Bo in that moment and the urge to see her beloved rose suddenly. “What is it?”

  “It’s been a while since we last saw her.” She rose and walked over to the nurse’s station. “I’m here to inform you that we’ll be waiting in Bo Witteman’s room for the rest of the day.” The woman opened her mouth to protest, but Hlif held up her hand. “If you have a problem with it, I suggest you take it up with your management. Another option would be to move Ms Witteman to a more accommodating hospital.” She returned to Magarethe. “We’ll be waiting in Bo’s room for the rest of the day.”

  Magarethe looked at her in surprise. “How did you manage that?”

  “I didn’t make it a request.”

  The older woman smiled as she stood and followed Hlif. Just like earlier, the sight of Bo, pale and unmoving, rattled Hlif once again. She steeled herself and approached the bed. Magarethe was already standing next to the bed, her gaze dark with emotion as she studied Bo’s face. Hlif spotted a chair in the corner and brought it closer for Magarethe. The woman seemed not to notice.

  “When she was a toddler, I would sneak into her room and sit with her.” Magarethe wiped at her cheeks. “She looked like an angel with her ashen hair, red cheeks, and tiny mouth.”

  Hlif could see the picture Magarethe was painting. Bo was startlingly beautiful awake, but there was an ethereal quality to her when she was unconscious.

  “Why don’t you tell her these things? She must think you gave her away because you didn’t want her.” The pain was visible in the pale eyes. “I know you love her. You might not say it out loud or show it through your deeds, but it’s written on your face every time you look at her.”

  Magarethe ran a finger down Bo’s cheek. “I love her more than anything in this world and beyond. It almost killed me not to see her for the last twenty years, but I didn’t want to lead them to her. It would’ve been the death of me if I had been the cause of…”

  Hlif gently rubbed the woman’s back. “That wasn’t going to happen.” Magarethe gave her a puzzled look. “I’ve had people guarding her from the moment she left Iceland. She was never in danger.”

  “You knew who we were when you met us yesterday.”

  “I did.” Hlif shrugged. “I wasn’t prepared to meet her like that. When the professor told me that she was in trouble, I acted without realizing how it would affect us.”

  “I can’t thank you enough for coming to our rescue as well as looking after Bo for all these years. I was so scared for her.”

  Hlif snorted. “And then she gets hurt with me only a few feet away.”

  “I was even closer to her.” They both sighed. “We are quite a pair. The former Valkyrie carrying a two-thousand-year-old torch and I, a woman who was hiding behind her fear of losing her precious daughter that she gave her up to be raised by someone else.”

  A few minutes later, when Magarethe sank into the chair, Hlif stood watch over Bo’s bed. A silent sentinel. As much as she didn’t want to remember, she was reminded of the many instances where she stood, unmoving, watching the gradual decay of Gurith’s remains.

  ***

  Gurith watched as Hlif approached her half-brother. “Please, do not do this, Loki?”

  “Do not plead with him, beloved. Instead, kiss me; take my breath away,” Gurith said softly and held her arms out to receive Hlif. She could see that her request had confused her lover. The dark grey eyes moved back to the smirking Loki before she embraced Gurith.

  “What are we going to do, Gurith? I cannot live without you and hopefully the same applies for you,” Hlif mumbled into the fragrant blond hair.

  “Let us give him what he wants.” Gurith tightened her hold when Hlif tried to move out of the embrace. “He will not stop otherwise.”

  Hlif threw a lethal look at Loki. He was smiling. Noticing that Hlif was distracted, Gurith reached for the dagger stuck in the back of her trousers. She hesitated for a moment and closed her eyes tightly before she shifted her body slightly and plunged the knife into her chest. She bit down hard to keep from making a sound. This was a sacrifice she needed to make. There was no way Hlif would allow for Loki to take her and Gurith wasn’t going to lose the love of her life over something as inconsequential as a mortal life. She gently turned the brunette’s head so they were facing each other. Hlif looked equal parts anxious and angry.

  “Kiss me, Valkyrie,” Gurith said softly and Hlif complied. This was the last time she was going to kiss her beloved and thus, she put everything she felt for Hlif into the kiss. She surely got Hlif’s attention now, for the other woman pulled back to look at her, breaking the kiss. The move also gave Hlif a clear view of the dagger sticking out of Gurith chest. There wasn’t much time left. She could already feel the coldness moving up from her feet.

  “What have you done?” Hlif moaned; her voice infinitely sad. “Oh my love, why?”

  “No… No… NOOOOO.” Loki screeched nearby, trying to push his way between them. Gurith held on with almost superhuman strength. She wasn’t going to die in the arms of that depraved man.

  “I cannot let…” Her sight was dimming rapidly. “… them steal my soul. I have immortalized you in there. At least this way my soul will roam the mortal realm. Find me, beloved, and remind me of our love.” She suddenly felt so tired and Gurith closed her eyes for a moment. It was so difficult to keep upright. Hlif was there to capture her when her knees buckle. “Kiss me again, my
heart. Take my last breath and let it live inside you until we meet again.”

  Chapter 15

  Loki glanced at his watch. An hour had passed and he was beginning to wonder if his message had been received. Just as he was about to give up, he felt the slight vibration in the air. He tossed his drink back and turned with a wide smile on his face. His smile wasn’t returned. Instead, a withering dark gaze was fixed on him.

  “What do you want?”

  Loki threw his arms wide in a jovial gesture. “Bodvar, old friend. How long has it been?”

  “Not long enough,” the giant snapped as he regarded Loki with clear contempt.

  “Now, now, no need to get like that, my friend,” Loki said with feigned hurt in his tone. “We know each other too well to go at it like strangers.”

  Bodvar’s face twisted in pure hatred. “What do you want, Loki?”

  “Well, since you’re offering your assistance, I need you to help me take care of a small problem.” The Berserker frowned, his seven-foot frame stiffening. Loki grinned. “No need to panic. It’s a really small issue and once you’ve taken care of it, we’ll be even. What do you say?”

  The giant’s face hardened. “What is this problem you need help with?”

  Loki pointed at the liquor cabinet. “Would you like a drink first? I promise you that one can make a name for oneself in Valhalla if it were possible to take whiskey there.”

  “You have been banned from entering Valhalla.”

  “A small misunderstanding that I can fix in no time.”

  He served them both and turned to the Berserker. The man stared at the glass, but didn’t take it. Loki shrugged and took a sip from his glass, all the while studying Bodvar over the rim of his glass. The man was the most fearsome of the Berserkers. He was a bodyguard for some mortal king, but upon his death, was ‘recruited’ by Odin, who made him his personal guard. He was renowned for his strong character and incorruptible ethics, but Loki knew that it would only be a case of waiting for the man’s weaknesses to present itself. And it did.