She was a Valkyrie.
She was not a Valkyrie.
She was…something. Nothing.
“I don’t remember much about my family. My first one, I mean—here on earth,” she said one night, snuggling with Erik in their tent. “Jake and the others…if I had survived, I like to think they would be like them.”
He dropped a kiss into her hair. “I can see that.”
His fingers traced lazy spirals on her bare arm, sending tiny tremors over her skin. “You’re doing well with the sparring. You might want to consider climbing into the ring with me after this is all over. We’ll make a fantastic tag team.” He waved a hand in the air over them, drawing an imaginary banner. “The Valkyrie and the Veteran. The crowd would love it.”
She tried to collect her thoughts, forcing them away from the sensual temptation he presented. “Not exactly what I was thinking about. We still have to figure out how to deal with Kara.” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “I don’t like the idea of having to fight my sister.”
“I understand.” He stroked the back of her hand. “I can’t imagine what it’d be like, but I get that it’s got to feel uncomfortable. But don’t forget this isn’t on you—it’s on her and on those Gods back in Asgard.”
“But Freyja…” she started.
“But nothing.” Erik’s words took on an edge, sharper and harsher than before. “This is bullshit. She could have killed me in the hospital, in the ring—she’s had plenty of chances to finish the job. Sending you on a chase and now Kara…” He pressed his lips together into a tight line before continuing. “She started this. Now it’s up to us to finish it.” He kissed her again. “Go to sleep now—weather forecast says rainy day tomorrow. Get ready for a lot of mud.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Brenna curled up, waiting for the storm to arrive.
…
Erik knew Kara wouldn’t give up the hunt, track them down for as long as it took. He’d seen the determination in her eyes during their brief encounter—the woman was focused on her mission and returning to Valhalla victorious, dragging Erik beside her and sending Brenna to her eternal suffering.
His greatest fear, of seeing Brenna die at Kara’s hands, expanded now to include seeing the people around them perish as well. Collateral damage. Brenna couldn’t promise Kara wouldn’t kill them to hide her tracks or worse, just because the Valkyrie wanted to. Erik had seen Brenna soften and change in the short time spent together—he didn’t know how Kara would or could be affected by her time here on Earth. Given the anger flashing between the two women on that first, brief encounter, he could see Kara turning darker, more fanatical in her search.
The long and short of it was every night they stayed with the group spiked the danger level.
They didn’t have to be there. Erik had recovered weeks ago from his injuries, and now they were both fit and able to strike out on their own. The only reason for remaining with Jake and the others was for the sake of having company—hardly worth risking their lives over.
Maybe the time had come to go.
He broached the subject late one night. They were in another campground, rolling in after dinner at the local Legion. After light conversation, they left Lucy and Mark playing chess and went to bed.
“I’m way too full.” Brenna rubbed her stomach as she shucked her clothing and crawled into the sleeping bag beside him. “Those meatballs were fantastic.”
“Especially the Italian bread,” he added. He reached out and stroked her side, loving the feel of her soft skin. “Can’t say I’ve had something that good for a long, long time.” Erik leaned down and kissed her hip. “I’m only talking about food, mind you.”
He waited until the two of them settled down, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the crickets singing in the tall grass.
“What do…” He took a deep breath, steeling himself. “What do you think of leaving next week? There’s a bus station in Columbus. We’ll be there soon. Might be able to borrow from some connections I’ve got, call in some old favors. Get some fake identification, grab some airline tickets, and head over to Europe.”
“She’ll find us wherever we go,” she whispered. “It might take her months or years, but she will come. Whether we’re here or in Africa, Europe, or Australia—no matter how long it takes, she will eventually catch up to us.” She touched his cheek. “The headaches…it won’t save you. If anything, it might incapacitate you when we finally meet. I don’t know what’ll happen.”
The idea had been simmering under his thoughts for a few days, working under his skin like a splinter. He didn’t want to say it, voice it aloud because of what it meant—but it was an option they needed to discuss.
“Unless…” He swallowed hard, trying to parse his words. “Unless we split up.”
She turned and looked at him in the dim light cast from the fire nearby. “What?”
“Not forever,” he said. “Just until we think she’s given up.”
“She won’t give up.” She frowned. “I thought we were…” She fell silent, crushing Erik’s heart.
“We are. That’s why I’m saying it.” He gathered her into his arms. “If it comes down to you or me, I want you to survive. Maybe you can find some sort of otherworldly way to get back to Asgard, talk to Odin or something like that. If I draw Kara off your trail, it’ll be a hell of a lot easier. I’m her primary target.”
She choked back a sigh. “You don’t understand. It’s not our choice to make. Our fates have already been decided.” Her whispers seemed to be shouts in the small tent. “I’m forsaken, condemned to Helheim and an eternity waiting for my chance to die at Ragnarok, my redemption. All you have to do is let her kill you and you’ll go to Valhalla—be with your friends and prepare for the final battle.” She stroked his face. “That’s the reality.”
“Then what are we sparring for every morning? No, I refuse to believe you’re going to Hel,” he said, forcing himself to keep his voice low. “I won’t let it happen.”
“Not your choice. Not mine, either. It’s out of our hands, and all we can do is delay the inevitable. But yes, leaving soon would be best. These people deserve more than to be drawn up into our fight.” She sighed and laid her head against his chest, her soft hair tickling his nose. “I just…”
“What?”
“She’s my sister.” The words carried the weight of pain, of betrayal.
Erik said nothing, letting her have the last word. Her breathing shifted, turning deep and calm. He tried to commit this moment to memory, this feeling of safety and security, of loving and having loved.
It was all going to end at some point.
…
She was dreaming and knew it because she was back in Valhalla, walking through the training halls. The night sky shimmered overhead, a thousand stars sparkling in the darkness. Here and there a rainbow-colored burst went off, signaling another sister coming home from her assigned duties.
The other Valkyries walked by her, chatting to each other about this and that, the most mundane of things. They’d changed out of their armor, now wearing the long flowing robes used for evening wear.
She looked down, seeing the same light fabric—the soft pastel blue soft against her skin. Her favorite outfit, one she’d worn for countless years.
Brenna turned her attention to the women, recognizing them. Laila, Karol…the names flowed through her mind as she called out to them.
They didn’t respond, brushing by her like she was a ghost.
A ghost.
She reached out and saw her hand pass through one of them, confirming her theory.
“All you had to do was kill him.”
She spun to see Kara standing there in full armor, holding her lance. The multi-colored wings spread out wide behind her, each feather a miniature Bifrost.
“All you had to do was kill him.” She glared at Brenna. “Now I have to clean up your mess.” She pointed the lance at Brenna. “You can still rede
em yourself.” One edge of her mouth turned up in a smirk. “Take the knife from your bag and turn over, stab him in the heart. It’ll be fast and painless; he won’t even know what happened. Dispatch him and I promise you’ll return here within seconds, back to where you belong. With us.”
Brenna found her voice. “No.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t do it before, and I can’t do it now.”
“Why? Because you slept with him? Because you think you love him?” The sneer jabbed into Brenna’s heart. “You can have him here in Valhalla, a hundred times a day if he’s up to the task. Bring him here and you can be together until Ragnarok.”
“I…” Brenna paused, her mind spinning. “That’s not what would happen.”
“Really?” Kara arched an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“Mother Freyja wouldn’t allow it.” Brenna’s chest ached, as if the lance was already slowly pushing through her skin. “We’ve never taken lovers from among the warriors—none of us. It hasn’t happened in hundreds of years, and you expect me to believe it could happen now? Why would this grace suddenly be given to us?” She drew a short breath. “You’ve never lied to me before, through all of the years we’ve worked together. Why now?”
Kara didn’t flinch from the pointed question. “It’s not a lie if you don’t want it to be. Think about it. You could be the first, the first Valkyrie to do this. You’re one of Freyja’s favorites. She won’t deny you this favor for your esteemed service. Ask and you shall receive. He won’t even wake up if you do it right—a flash and he’ll arrive here in Valhalla with you right behind him,” Kara murmured. The lance didn’t move, still pointed at Brenna’s heart. “Imagine it. Your invulnerability back. Your wings. Everything you love and want, all within reach. Wake up and do your job. Do what you were sent to do. Be done with this earthly jaunt and come home.”
The pain increased, cutting into Brenna’s breathing. “Why should I believe you? You told me you were going to kill him and send me to Helheim. Why should I do your job for you?”
Kara smiled. “You know in your heart you’ll never be really with him while you walk the Earth. You’re just another one of his conquests, another fond memory he’ll bring to Valhalla when the time comes for him to ascend. You’re a woman out of time, a fallen Valkyrie, and he will never, never truly love you.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do what you’re supposed to do. Correct your mistake!”
“No.” Brenna shook her head. “I am not a killer.” She spread her hands. “We are Valkyries. We are the ones who deliver souls to Valhalla. We don’t kill people—we bring them to their eternal rewards, make it the best day of their lives instead of the worst. We reap souls.”
“Are you confessing you could never kill him? All this time wasted, and you never had any intention of fulfilling your mission?” Kara pressed on.
“Yes. No,” Brenna corrected herself. “This is between myself and Freyja—not with you. Erik will meet Odin and Freyja in his own time, but I will not hasten that journey. Have you ever thought that maybe this is all part of Freyja’s plan? A way to test us, perhaps—part of an unseen path we were destined to travel?” She spread her hands. “The good we’ve done, the people helped along the way—by listening and offering a shoulder to lean on, to cry on. None of that would have happened if I had collected his soul that first night. Can’t you see this?” Brenna touched her heart. “After all this—who am I to take his life?”
“A Valkyrie. Or so I thought.” Kara tilted her head and sneered. “You sleep with a warrior. You roll in the dirt with him, train with him. But you’re not a killer. How can you tell me you’re not ready to take my life when I come for you? I won’t hold back until I collect his soul and send you down below where you belong. Won’t you fight for yourself? Or to protect him from my spear point? I promise you I won’t have the same hesitation like you had back in the parking lot. I will put my lance through him and send his soul skyward.”
“I…I don’t know.” Her eyes filled with tears. “You are my sister. I cannot kill my family.” She reached out and touched the spear. “If I couldn’t kill Erik, how could I kill you?”
Kara drew back, pulling the weapon out of Brenna’s reach. “Your decision. Garm will feast on your bones soon enough.”
The lance shot forward, impaling Brenna through the heart.
She woke gasping, clutching at her chest. Erik pulled her into his arms as he murmured into her hair, rocking her back and forth as she drew deep, staggered breaths.
“What was it?” he asked.
“A bad dream. Nothing but a bad dream.”
Her bare foot touched the edge of her utility knife, tucked at the bottom of the sleeping bag.
She pulled back with a curse.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“I don’t like it.” Jake scowled as he studied his coffee cup. “Safety in numbers. We all know that.”
They’d dressed after she’d recovered from her dream, and Erik insisted they call a meeting. The sun was rising, and everyone had been slowly waking up, so the suggestion met little resistance.
Not as much as Erik’s announcement had.
“I still don’t know why we’re not bringing the cops in on this,” Lucy said. She gestured toward the van. “Make a call, tell them there’s a crazy woman following us with an eye to sticking a knife in you both. Seems pretty simple to me.”
Jake shook his head. “Be a hard sell. We got nothing more than Erik and Brenna’s word to go on.” He held up a hand, stalling responses. “I believe them, and you know I do. But the police are going to want details, and we just don’t have them. Who she is, why she wants to hurt them. You got nothing but a name, and that’s not going to be enough. Never mind the looks we’re gonna get if we mention Valkyries.” He eyed Brenna. “You understand.”
She nodded.
Jake continued. “Be a lot of questions and if we don’t have the right answers, they’re going to think we’re all a little bit loopy. And what can they do, really? Can’t have a permanent tail on us, waiting for her to make a move. We go out of this county, out of this state, and into another one. No use calling the FBI unless she’s doing something ’cross state lines, and we’ve got no proof of that. Not a whole lot of options here—anyone got something, speak up.”
Erik shook his head in the following silence. “We’ve put you at risk long enough. You and the people around us—the students, the teachers, the other veterans, the civilians who make the food and run the meetings. Safer this way.”
“Not smarter,” Lucy offered. She tossed her cold coffee into the fire. “You shouldn’t go.”
“We shouldn’t stay,” Brenna said. “We’ve been running on borrowed time and luck so far. She’ll find us, and when she does, you can’t be around. She won’t have any problem running right through you to get to Erik and to me.”
Mark let out a grunt but said nothing.
“We can’t make you stay, short of kidnapping you. All right.” Jake gave an annoyed huff. “We’ll drop you at the Greyhound station in Columbus with your gear. Take the tent, take the sleeping bags—it’ll help you get a start.” He eyed Erik. “We’ll also set you up with a bit of cash. Don’t say nothing. You’ve been a help along the way here, and we’re not going to let you walk out the door with a near-empty wallet. You can’t have much left from what you won in Vegas.”
Lucy gave an angry shake of her head as she stood. “I don’t like it. You going off on your own isn’t the answer to this. I don’t know what is, but this can’t be the best solution.” She pointed at Erik. “You let something happen to Brenna, I will hunt you down and knock you into your next life. That’s a promise.”
He didn’t laugh, taking in her serious expression. Erik nodded, accepting her threat.
Brenna stared into the fire, rubbing her hands together. He saw the tension in her shoulders, the stress on her face. Even if they told the troupe the full truth about Kara and her otherworldly weapons, it wouldn’t change the situation.
It was t
ime to go—that’s all there was to it.
“Time’s a-wasting.” Jake got up from the folding chair. “Let’s get our asses in gear. Still got some traveling to do today—nothing going on tonight, so grab your quiet while you can.”
They drove for the rest of the day, mostly in silence. Helen and Lucy pressed in on Brenna from both sides, talking softly to her as they made their way along the highway.
Jake was driving with Mark asleep behind them. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel again. “Still not happy ’bout this.”
“I know.” Erik checked the side view mirror. “But it’s the right thing to do.”
Jake eyed him before turning his attention back to the road. “Might be, might not be. Still feels like you’re just running down another road. But this time without anyone to watch your back.” He snorted. “Thought you’d learned your lesson in the ring ’bout keeping your focus.”
Erik fell silent, spinning that thought over and over in his mind.
…
The traffic leading into the campground was crazy, the lineup of cars leading almost back to the highway turnoff. Accompanied by Jake’s cursing, they slowly pulled up to the check-in booth with plenty of vehicles behind and ahead.
“What’s going on?” Lucy stuck her head out the window.
“Some sort of event happening nearby.” Helen tapped the glass and pointed at one flyer glued on the car window in front of them, the bright letters spelling out the details. “We’re right smack dab in the middle of a medieval fair. Guess when we made our reservations they forgot to mention that event going off.”
“Wonder if they’ve got a tarot card reader.” Lucy poked Mark’s shoulder. “Get your fortune told.”
“I can get that on my cell phone for free, along with all the horoscopes and lucky lotto numbers,” he replied.
“Hi there, folks.” The campground employee checked his clipboard as he took their information. He handed over a map, their location marked with a red X. “Sorry ’bout the crowd.”
“No problem,” Jake said. He studied the map. “As long as we have some peace and quiet. Don’t need parties going all night.”
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