by Lauren Dawes
Bryn’s eyes widened for just a second before her cool expression returned. Mason leaned back against the side of the bar, his words hanging in the air between them. She couldn’t deny it, and even if she tried, he’d call bullshit.
“Is that so?” Her voice was icy.
“Yes.” At least she hadn’t flat-out denied it.
Bryn poured herself another drink, picked up the glass and moved from behind the bar toward the door that led to her office. Mason stayed where he was until she glanced over her shoulder at him.
“Come with me.”
Mason looked over at one of the other bodyguards standing by the stairs, indicating that he was stepping away for a moment. Then he followed Bryn out the side door and into her office.
Once he was settled in the chair opposite her desk, the Valkyrie began to speak.
“Who told you?” she asked, eyeing him over the rim of her drink as she took a long sip of vodka. She put her glass back down, still watching him.
“Nobody told me. I …” Mason thought carefully about what he was going to say. He’d made a blood oath to Korvain that meant he wasn’t allowed to discuss Valkyries with anyone, but … he wasn’t talking to anyone. He was talking to a Valkyrie. “There are some things you don’t know about me, Bryn.”
One pale brow arched. “Is that right?” she replied coldly. When he only bobbed his head in reply, Bryn’s lips thinned. “Tell me exactly what it is you think you know.”
“I know of the Valkyries and the gods. I know of Mares and I know of Odin.” Bryn shook her head in disbelief, but Mason pressed on. “I’m also aware of the Nine Worlds and the Fall.”
“How?” she asked, anger burning in her voice.
At least she’d given up the pretense of ignorance. “Korvain is aware of everything I know, and how I know it,” Mason replied.
“What does this have to do with Korvain?” Bryn’s fists slammed against the desktop, rattling her glass. Bryn’s anger was a whole other person in the room, breathing in their conversation and spitting out a whole lot of hostility in return.
“Because Mason was the one who saved your life,” a dark voice interrupted. Korvain—all seven feet of muscle-bound Mare—stood in the doorway, imploring Bryn with his eyes. “He saved your life, Bryn.”
Korvain’s dark eyes settled on Mason. “He can hear the thoughts of the gods,” he added simply.
Bryn’s chair creaked as she sat back. “Hear their thoughts?”
“Yes,” Mason said with a shrug. “And I want to know more about Eir.”
Bryn’s eyes shifted to the glass in front of her. “Can’t you just read her thoughts?” There was a sharpness to her voice that Mason had never heard before.
“I don’t enjoy doing that if I don’t have to,” he said in his defense, keeping his eyes downcast.
“But sometimes you have to?” Bryn snapped back.
“His abilities have served you very well so far, Bryn.” Korvain interrupted. “Think about this for a moment. This is Mason. You trust him. All he’s doing is telling you something that might help to protect you better.”
Her eyes rose, her voice low when she finally spoke. “But what if he tells others of us? He’ll put us all in danger.”
“I would never do that, Bryn.”
“I have already taken care of that,” Korvain said at the same time. “He has taken a blood oath. He’s sworn to secrecy.”
“Or what?”
Korvain gave Bryn a wicked smile. “I get to show him just how good I am at my job.”
A long, heavy silence fell upon them as Bryn deliberated. “How much does he know about what happened last month?”
“Nothing.”
Mason kept his eyes on the Valkyrie, hoping that his expression showed just how much he cared about her, and how worried he’d been after her abduction.
“You might as well know it all, then.” Bryn blew out an irritated breath. She proceeded to tell him everything, from the death of her Valkyries to her capture, from Eir’s twin sister’s death to Loki’s. When Mason learned of Eir’s loss, he felt the pain like a sharp stab through his heart.
“And who’s Darrion?” he asked, directing his question to Korvain, who was now perched on the edge of Bryn’s desk, his face betraying nothing. The only reason Mason knew Korvain was pissed was that whenever Bryn had mentioned Loki or her imprisonment, the muscle in his jaw had jumped.
“My guild master. He’s also the one who had charged me with killing Bryn. I still don’t know where he came up with the idea, but the fact that Loki was going after the other Valkyries too makes it seem as if they were in league with each other, whether knowingly or not.”
“And you have no idea where he is right now?”
“No.”
The finality in Korvain’s tone made it clear to Mason that this conversation was over. Hauling himself out of his chair, he stood to leave, but as soon as he reached the door, Bryn spoke.
“Thank you, Mason. I’m glad you’ve had my back. Loki would have eventually discovered a way to kill me if Korvain hadn’t found me when he had.”
Mason turned to her. “I’ve still got your back. And you should know I would never betray you, or the others. You mean too much to me.” He hesitated, unsure how his next words would be received. “I want … I want to tell Eir about what I know.”
Bryn looked concerned. “Why would you want Eir to know about this?”
Oh, fuck. How was he supposed to explain his way out of this one?
“Ah, when I saw her before, I kind of let the word Valkyrie slip in front of her. I was just so surprised to see her and it just kind of popped out.”
“How do you even know her?” Korvain asked, his dark voice like the tip of a blade being run down Mason’s spine.
“I met her in the park the other day.” When Korvain glared at him, he felt compelled to add, “We had breakfast.”
Korvain and Bryn shared a look.
After a long beat, Bryn replied, “I don’t see why you can’t tell her. Eir can keep the secret, since it’s mutually beneficial.”
Mason let out the breath he’d been holding. “Thank you.” As he made his way down the hallway, Mason knew Eir would have a whole load of questions for him, and he’d better be damned ready to answer them for her. He wanted to be honest with her. He wanted her to know about him—for the first time he wanted a woman to know about him and his past.
Fuck, he was in over his head.
Chapter 22
It was three am, and Eir was the most nervous she had ever been. Not even the excitement she had felt at meeting Odin could top the butterflies currently battering the inside of her stomach. But that was Odin. And this was Mason.
A human.
A man she wanted to get to know better—and that was something she had never thought would happen to her. Mason somehow knew about her, and even though she hadn’t confirmed his suspicions, it didn’t take away the fact that he knew something about the Valkyries.
Maybe he was just guessing—taking stabs in the dark. He was pretty damn close to the target for stabbing in the dark, though.
Against her palm, she crushed the three gauze bandages she’d promised him, wishing she already knew what he was going to tell her. The gentle ding of the elevator bell brought her attention back to the present. She stared at the closed doors, willing them to open a little faster.
A few excruciating seconds later, they parted and the empty expanse of hallway opened up before her. Steadying herself with a few deep breaths, Eir forced her feet into action, her brain already running through the different scenarios. She had to admit she was surprised not to see Mason there waiting for her but also relieved at the same time. Despite being ready for him, she also felt completely unprepared.
Her sensible shoes hushed gently against the polished concrete floors, carrying her past Bryn’s office, where low voices could be heard through the wooden door. Stopping at the staffroom, she pushed open the door and took a peek insi
de.
Empty.
Mason still had to be in the main bar.
“It’s closing time.” Mason’s disembodied voice floated through the brilliantly lit bar as Eir went through the door. On the opposite side of the room, Mason was gently ushering a young woman out into the now freezing Boston night.
The door squeaked closed behind Eir then, ruining her chances of slipping inside unnoticed. Mason whirled around, his mouth open as if he was about to say something, but he closed it when he saw it was Eir. With his lips curling up into a shy smile, she couldn’t help feel the flicker of heat beginning in her chest.
“I thought you weren’t going to show up,” he said, taking a step closer. With his approach, Eir was keenly aware that she could smell the hypnotic scent of his aftershave and the fresh, clean spice of his skin. Oh, what was she doing? Her hands clenched tight around the gauze, reminding her that she had another excuse to see him.
“I had to give you these.” Her voice sounded so small. Holding the bandages out, she deposited them into his open hand.
“Thanks.” He shoved the gauze into his pocket, his eyes never leaving hers. “We need to talk, but I have to get home to Sophie, and I have a feeling you’re going to have a lot more questions than I can answer.”
What was he asking her to do?
He cleared his throat nervously. “I’m saying I want you to come back to my place so I can feed Sophie and take her out for a walk. We can chat there, and I’ll be able to answer all your questions.”
Eir bit her lip, her teeth digging into the sensitive flesh.
“Please, Eir,” he pleaded. “I promise to bring you back here after we’re done, no matter the time.”
Her head was screaming at her to reject his proposition, but her traitorous body was all for it. In the end, all she could do was nod.
“Great. Let me get some things out of my locker and we can go.”
“I’ll get my coat and let Bryn know where I’m going.”
She soon found herself sitting in the front seat of Mason’s car as he drove, her hands nervously clenched together. Bryn hadn’t even blinked at her request to leave with Mason. In fact, she had smiled knowingly at Eir, telling her, ‘It will be good for you.’ What that meant she had no idea.
Mason drew her from her thoughts. “Are you warm enough?” he asked, adjusting the dials on the center console.
“I’m fine.” She looked out the passenger window, watching the city lights flash by. It was quiet at this time of night—almost as if Boston was abandoned, and only the ghosts haunted its streets.
“I love this time of night,” Mason said in a gravelly drawl, echoing her own thoughts. “I love how quiet it is.” Eir looked over at him, taking the opportunity to study him as he concentrated on the road. The passing street lights alternately cast his face in shadows and light. A fine stubble was just starting to grow on his jaw, and Eir found herself wanting to reach out and run her fingers along his cheek. He turned his head slightly to look her way, and Eir averted her gaze, embarrassed.
Ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of an unassuming apartment building in downtown Boston. Maybe five or six stories high, it looked like all the other brownstones around it, but when she stepped into the lobby, Eir was surprised to see how modern the interior was.
“This is nice,” she said absently, taking it all in.
He laughed gently. “Sophie and I like it just fine.”
The mention of his dog brought a smile to Eir’s face. She was looking forward to seeing her again.
“She likes you, too, you know,” Mason told her.
Eir started. Her lips parted to ask him how he’d known what she was thinking, but she thought better of it. She was sure he would answer all her questions in due time.
They rode the elevator together in silence, Eir flushing at how close they were standing, of how his breathing had accelerated ever so slightly, just like her own.
When the doors opened, Mason allowed Eir to exit first, sweeping his arm out in front of his body. Stepping out, Eir could see that there were only two doors to choose from on this floor.
“It’s this one,” Mason murmured, placing a gentle hand on the small of her back, and a jolt of desire shot through her. Not for the first time, she wondered who this man was and why he made her feel the way she did when he was around. He opened the door to his apartment, and Eir stepped inside, greeted by a blast of warm air and the wet licks of an excited dog.
*
Mason moved forward and grabbed Sophie by the collar, pulling her away from the goddess.
“Sorry. She gets really excited when I get home. She’ll calm down in a minute.” After getting Sophie to sit down, Mason was surprised when Eir crouched down in front of her, scratching her behind her ears and baby-talking to her.
Mason laughed. “You definitely have a friend for life now.”
Eir peeked up at him, golden highlights in her hair shining. “She really is lovely.” He held her gaze a second too long, till they both felt uncomfortable, but then Sophie rolled over onto her back to get her belly scratched.
Mason was normally pretty wired after a shift at the club, and tonight was no different. He moved towards the kitchen, setting the coffee maker to start and pulling two mugs from his cupboard.
“Coffee?” he called, busying himself with getting out the cream and sugar.
“That would be great,” she replied. He looked up, surprised, to find her standing on the other side of the kitchen bench. She had shucked her coat, revealing the purple sword tattooed on her neck, and her eyes were bright and curious. The doubt and unease he’d seen when he’d first asked her to come to his apartment were now gone.
“How do you take it?”
“Black.”
He grunted, putting the cream and sugar away. “Me too.”
The Valkyrie said nothing more while Mason waited for the coffee maker to finish. When he set the mug in front of her, Eir had perched herself on one of the stools that were stowed under the bench. He settled in against the side of the counter, staring at Eir over the lip of his mug as he took a sip.
He could tell by her face she had questions, but he didn’t dip into her thoughts to confirm it. He never liked doing that in any case, but with Eir it felt like a real invasion.
The Valkyrie blew on her coffee to cool it, then took a sip. “You said we needed to talk?” she asked.
“Yeah. We need to talk. I feel I need to explain some things to you.”
Eir never broke eye contact. Christ, Mason could feel the heat in those eyes, could feel the questions burning there.
“I … umm … I …” Mason paused. How in the hell was he supposed to broach this subject? It had almost been easy with Bryn. With Eir, he just had no idea how to start, but he did want her to know about him.
“Look, let’s just address the elephant in the room. You know I’m a Valkyrie.” She waited for him to confirm her statement before continuing. “The reason I was so surprised by you knowing is that no humans know this. They don’t believe anymore.”
“I know a lot about your world, Eir—Odin, the Valkyries, the Aesirean gods—all of it.”
“How?” she asked, her voice the barest whisper. Sophie padded over to her, sensing her distress, and placed her head in Eir’s lap.
Mason looked down at the counter, the tip of his index finger running over a dried coffee ring. He’d kept his secret for nearly ten years, not telling anyone what he knew, but somehow—within the space of a month—he had not only spilled it to one of the most dangerous and feared beings in the Nine Worlds, but to his boss too, and now he wanted to tell the woman he could seriously fall in love with.
Eir reached for his hand. Her small fingers were dwarfed by his, but the warmth he felt at her touch gave him the courage to go on.
He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, but couldn’t shake the feeling that his throat was closing up, being choked by dust and debris long since settled in his memories. �
�Thirteen years ago, I joined the marines, and almost ten years ago I was injured while on tour in Iraq.”
“Injured, how?” she asked, her tiny fingers cinching tighter around his hand. That same warmth he’d felt before in the park was back, and a moment later he could have sworn he felt more relaxed than a few seconds ago.
“My unit was in the town of An Nasiriyah. I was with three others, making our way up to the top floor of what we thought was an abandoned building. I was third in line and I think that may have saved my life.”
Mason fell silent. Every time he thought about that attack, he was right back there, reliving it.
The screams of agony.
The pleas for help.
The smell of blood soaking into the dust and sand.
He was suddenly yanked back into the present when Sophie stuck her wet nose into the palm of his free hand. Pulling his other hand from Eir’s grasp, Mason crouched down beside Sophie and wrapped his arms around her neck. A wet swipe of her tongue brought a measure of peace, and for a brief moment he wished he was alone.
“I’m sorry,” Eir said. “This is obviously difficult for you to talk about. I’ll just go.”
She stood up and made her way to the door, but Mason was faster. Gently, he took her by the elbow, stopping her.
“Please, don’t go.” Mason’s voice sounded rough even to his ears. “I just need a few minutes.”
Eir touched his hand, but instead of returning to the kitchen, she headed for his dark leather sofa. Mason followed with Sophie shadowing him. Perching on the other end of the sofa, he waited until his heart stopped pounding. When Sophie placed her head in his lap, Mason’s fingers sank into the dense fur between her shoulderblades.
“There was a bomb on the rooftop. It was detonated remotely. The first two guys were killed …” Mason closed his eyes, trying to fight off the vision of the life bleeding from his brother’s eyes. “I was thrown back by the blast. I hit my head pretty hard and the same with the other guy. I was knocked out cold. It was only when I was patched up and sent home to the States that I realized something wasn’t quite right.”
“What do you mean?”
