Rise of a Viking (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors' Kin Book 1)

by Sky Purington

  Except the most repressed one.

  Her eyes went to Lauren. The only sister who almost shifted entirely but didn’t remember it. But she would. They all would.

  Unless she and Heidrek found a way to stop it.

  Because somehow they were the key.

  Desperate for space and time to think, she stood and stretched. “I’m off to bed everyone.” She leaned over and looked at Mema Angie. “Thanks for the delicious lobster rolls. See you in the morning?”

  “Probably not.” Mema Angie sat up and smiled. “Sleep well, darling.”

  Cybil nodded and waved at everyone. “Catch ya in the A.M.”

  Everyone said their goodnights as she climbed the stairs. Thankfully, there was a deck off her bedroom. One she utilized despite the storm. Lightning crisscrossed the sky, illuminating the choppy ocean. Elbows braced on the railing, she stared at the tree, her thoughts still on Heidrek. Some might say he haunted her, but she didn’t quite look at it like that. Not when he was trying to keep her away.

  Not when he was somehow trying to protect her and her family.

  She thought of those that might be his family. Kol was a relative. She closed her eyes and focused on the name and let it lead her to others. Kol’s brothers. Naðr Véurr…a king. Raknar. The men who had ended up with Amber’s sisters. Her thoughts chased them until they focused on a young blond boy with a stutter and deep sadness. He grew, changed, became a man.

  Heidrek.

  Her eyes snapped open, and she focused on the tree again. He had become something unexpected. What he became changed everything. It would make him a king.

  The king.

  Someone so important that it drew attention. She blinked and shook her head as thunder crashed and rain fell harder. No, he drew attention by his actions. He brought trouble to his people…to his family.

  That’s what he had been trying to tell her all along.

  Stay away.

  Stay safe.

  And she would. He needed to know that.

  Cybil didn’t realize what she was doing until she was down the stairs off her deck and heading for the tree. The wind was strong, and the rain cold but nothing fazed her. She needed to be beneath the ash.

  She needed to understand.

  Hands braced against the cool bark, she stared up but saw nothing beyond flashes of lightning. Yet she felt something. A slight vibration that had nothing to do with the endless thunder. Her eyes dropped to her feet. To the root.

  The Yggdrasill carving glowed again.

  “Stay away,” whispered close to her ear.

  Her eyes shot to the right, and her breath caught.

  There he was. Gorgeous. Masculine. Intense.

  Yet ghostly.

  At least a foot taller than her, he had dirty blond hair, stubble on his strong jaw and the same, piercing blue eyes she had seen in the photo. He wore a red tunic and brown fur over his broad shoulders.

  Her eyes fell to the bear pendant hanging around his neck. “You use that to connect us and protect me. Does that mean keeping my family and me from traveling to you and yours?” she whispered as she shook her head and met his eyes again. “Because it won’t. It isn’t working.”

  He started to talk but stopped, confusion in his eyes. “It should only connect us. Protect you. Nothing more…” His eyes roamed her face before they went to the house. “Please. You must stay away for the safety of your kin.”

  Cybil was caught off guard by the flicker of desire in his eyes when his gaze returned to her. More so, by her sharp response to it. She frowned and shook her head. “I’m trying.” She attempted to tear her gaze from his but couldn’t. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Run from here. Get away from this tree.” She sensed that he wanted to reach out but didn’t. “If you stay, I cannot stop this.”

  “But you led me here,” she whispered, desperate to understand. “Didn’t you?”

  His eyes roamed her face again or at least she thought they did as he started to fragment. “I…do not know.”

  “Heidrek?”

  She sensed his surprise that she knew his name. Then he shocked her as well when he whispered her name before vanishing altogether.

  “Oh no,” she murmured. “Don’t go. Please don’t go.”

  Despite the tree cover, rain poured on her face, splashing down through the leaves as she walked around the trunk, searching for him. But he was gone, and she knew better than to get anxious over it. Not like the countless nights when she awoke with her heart pounding and the sheets twisted around her ankles.

  Still, whatever had just happened left her feeling hollow and empty in a way she couldn’t quite explain. Numb, she found her way to bed but didn’t bother getting out of her wet clothes as she lay down and stared at the ceiling.

  What she felt now was the polar opposite of excitement. The oxymoron to the thrill she endlessly sought. An aching absence in her soul that made no sense. She must have drifted off at some point because the next thing she heard was the shrill of Sam’s voice.

  “Kowabunga!” her sister cried before cannonballing onto her bed.

  “For crying out loud,” Cybil complained and buried herself further beneath her comforter. “Go away.”

  “Hell no.” Sam reached under the blankets and put something greasy beneath her nose. “Just smell that, sister.”

  “Oh, ew.” Cybil couldn’t help but smile as she shimmied toward the opposite side of her California King bed. “Was that bacon you almost accosted me with?”

  “Sure was.” Sam whipped the blankets away and sprung to her feet, planting one foot on either side of Cybil before she could escape. “Hickory Smoked to be exact.”

  She might be eager to be alone right now but looking up at her sister with her hands on her hips and a chunk of bacon hanging out of the corner of her mouth had her chuckling. “You know you’re a bonafide lunatic, right?”

  “Don’t talk about boning and licking,” Sam said and pushed the bacon into her mouth as she bounced once. “Because I got neither from Sean last night no matter how hard I tried.”

  “Boning?” Cybil mouthed. “Who even uses that word?” She shook her head. “And that was lunatic not lick. Big difference.”

  “Whatever. I heard an ‘ic’ sound.” Sam bit her lower lip, sultry like. “And lick is one of my favorite words.” She winked. “When it comes to certain things.”

  Cheered considerably by Sam’s unfailing quirkiness, Cybil swiped her leg and caught her sister’s ankle.

  Samantha yelped and fell down beside her, bacon still trapped securely between her teeth as she laughed. “No fair, Black Belt!”

  Cybil ignored her reference to being a black belt and rolled onto her side, still grinning. She loved all her sisters, but Sam would always be her favorite even if she didn’t feel the same. No, Sam’s closest sister would always be Lauren. Not that she knew it yet.

  “Oooo….” Sam narrowed her eyes and pressed her thumb and forefinger between Cybil’s eyebrows then smoothed her fingers out. “There you go again analyzing and over thinking God knows what. You’re making wrinkles.”

  Cybil only meant to chuckle but outright laughed as Sam tried to smooth out the lines between her eyes. “I’m only getting older. Wrinkles are gonna happen one of these days.”

  “Only if you let them.” Sam’s eyes met hers. “Stop being so intense and re-direct the road-map of your life and face.” She smoothed her expression. “See, like this. Feel the mojo of the universe and relax.”

  Cybil snorted. “Did you seriously just say that?”

  “Shit, I think I did.” Sam scrunched her nose then sat up. “Ignore.” Then she jumped over Cybil, landed on the floor, grabbed her hand and started yanking. “Come have breakfast. Lauren and Sean are down there together, and you know how much fun that is. Zero conversation. Dull. Dull. Dull.” Sam yanked again. “Come save me.”

  “You’re acting like a teenager,” Cybil said as she crawled out of bed and put on her slippers.


  “Well, yeah.” Sam tapped her foot, hands on her hips. “I had to act like a proper wife for nearly a decade. Reverting back to my youth while I’m on vacation sounds like an awesome idea.”

  She had a good point. And coming here was a vacation for all of her sisters seeing how Cybil was the only one who had decided to actually stay.

  Well, the sisters who were willing to visit that is.

  Because one was stubbornly estranged.

  “Hey, Sis?” Cybil said.

  Sam stopped at the door. “Yeah?”

  “The forecast says it’s going to be rough out there today.” She grinned. “You wanna go Jet Skiing?”

  Like always when she asked one of her sisters to live on the edge with her, Cybil anxiously awaited an answer. Would they? Or would they say no and she’d feel that same old sinking sensation?

  On average, she took risks that made no sense. And typically she wanted at least one of them with her no matter how dire the circumstances. And that wasn’t good. Or so others might think because she was putting them in harm’s way.

  But she knew she wasn’t.

  Not only did she have the gift of foresight but they could survive things no mortal could. It was as if a part of her wanted to be like them. To connect. Understand them on a deeper level even though they didn’t know what they truly were. It was a lonely place she had lived in for far too long.

  “Sure, count me in,” Sam responded.

  They shouldn’t be out on the water today. Sean would have a conniption.

  “Sis? You coming?”

  Her eyes snapped to Sam, and she mustered a smile. “Yup, I’ll be right down.”

  Worry flickered through her sister’s eyes. “You sure?”

  Cybil swallowed and nodded. “Yes.” She waved her away. “Get outta here.”

  Sam eyed her for a moment before she grinned and said, “Alright, alright,” over her shoulder and headed down the hallway.

  Head braced in her hands, Cybil did what she had done so many times before. She reminded herself that she was doing the right thing by not telling her sisters what they were. That she was keeping them safe even as she risked their lives with her stunts.

  She slid the bedside table drawer open, reached to the back and pulled out a picture. Her dad stood smiling with her and her four sisters when they were little…taken the very day she realized they weren’t normal. Samantha, Lauren, Shannon and Erica.

  Her eyes stung as she looked at them. It was a bitter pill to swallow for a girl barely twelve years old to know her sisters were different. So she couldn’t imagine how they would have taken it since they were even younger. All of them had suffered in one way or another because she hadn’t been honest. But how could she even begin to tell them what she was? What they were?

  It had been impossible at twelve and only became more difficult over the years as she explained away things they didn’t understand. She conveniently set aside the fact that half the time she did not entirely understand what she was.

  They came first.

  They always had and always would.

  Now that they owned this house, she continued to hope they would become as close as they once were.

  “Let’s go, sleepy head,” Sam called from the bottom of the stairs. “Or I’ll eat all the waffles!”

  Cybil smiled, clipped her hair up and plodded downstairs. As expected, Sean and Lauren were in their own corners. Lauren was on the couch with a book, and Sean sat at the kitchen island leafing through paperwork.

  “Look at you, Sean.” She grinned in passing. “Running your own business.”

  He grunted without looking up.

  Cybil poured some coffee then eyed the thick waffles on the griddle. “They look good, Sam.”

  “I know right. Pure perfection.” Sam glanced between Sean and Lauren then rolled her eyes. “And not appreciated until now.”

  “Life’s a bitch,” she said before Sam plunked a chunk of waffle on Cybil’s tongue.

  “Oh, so good,” Cybil groaned with enough sensual emphasis to gain Sean’s attention.

  The corner of his mouth hitched up as his eyes met hers. “You’re bad.”

  She winked. “On occasion.”

  “You are supposed to set a good example for Samantha, Cybil,” Lauren reminded. Dressed in a business suit, her hair was tied back tight again.

  Cybil’s eyes met Sam’s as her sister mouthed, “An example?”

  Cybil perked her brows and shook her head, whispering, “Don’t do it, Sam. She can’t handle—”

  Too late. Sam took a waffle, smothered it in syrup and headed Lauren’s way.

  Her little sister’s eyes grew wide as Sam approached. “What are you doing?”

  “Serving you breakfast.”

  “No, you are not.”

  “Yeah I am.”

  Lauren stood and smoothed her crème colored pant suit. “I am married to the State’s Attorney and well past the age of food fights.”

  “Not for much longer.” Sam strode her way. “And get off your high horse. I was married to a governor.”

  Lauren eyed the waffle. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “I would.” Sam sprinted after her.

  Lauren whipped her high heels aside and took off.

  “Just stay away from my pictures,” Cybil called before she realized they weren’t propped up against the wall anymore.

  “Mema Angie wanted them hung before she left,” Sean informed. “So I helped.”

  “Ah.” That didn’t surprise her. Angie had done that with other new portraits. The woman had an uncanny eye for lighting so she trusted they were hung in the most favorable places around the house.

  “No,” Lauren protested as she raced past the island and back into the living room.

  Cybil grinned as she watched them. Sam might drive Lauren crazy, but she was the one who could always break through her protective shell. A shell that seriously needed to be shattered. Right now.

  Married at twenty-one to a man over a decade older, Lauren had become his stalwart supporter as he navigated the political world. She was the pretty little trophy on his arm as he repeatedly cheated on her. Not that Lauren would admit as much. Oh no, the rumors were always wrong.

  Until they weren’t.

  Unfortunately, now that Lauren had helped him get where he needed to be, he was moving on. And everyone knew he was moving on with his mistress, a woman half his age.

  But, God forbid her sister would acknowledge it.

  Lauren showed no signs of sadness and pretended everything was fine even though she’d been served divorce papers nearly six months ago. All was well in her perfect self-delusional bubble. And though Cybil and Sam had tried to talk to her about it, she remained closed off.

  The whole thing drove Samantha to distraction.

  Sam had lived a similar life with Rick except she declared war when she learned he was cheating. He’d been served divorce papers within weeks. And as a little added bonus she strung several of his most expensive business suits up at prime locations in their city, each ruined and sporting a note about what a douche he was.

  “This is a four-hundred dollar shirt,” Lauren declared as Sam finally caught up to her and the waffle became a weapon.

  Cybil tuned them out as she stared at the pictures she had sent from Sean’s phone to hers. Voice soft, she said, “So what does everything we talked about last night have to do with Erin and her friend Jackie?”

  Sean’s eyes met hers. “I have no idea. Grant was pretty vague.”

  “You dealt with him before, didn’t you?”

  Sean eyed her for a long moment before he nodded. “Yeah, he was the lawyer who made sure I got this house after Megan vanished.”

  “Hmm,” she murmured. “Interesting.”

  How was Scotland and Scandinavia interrelated in all of this? Because she knew without a doubt that they were.

  When the doorbell rang, her eyes met Sean’s. “Expecting someone?”

  He
shook his head. “Nope.”

  A delivery man greeted her with a package she had to sign for. Though lightweight, it was large and rectangular. She knew right away it was a picture.

  By the time she made it to the living room, Lauren had already retired upstairs in a huff, a sore loser in the war of the waffles. Pleased to have conquered, Sam wore a wide smile as she flopped down on the couch, winded.

  “What’s that, Sis?” she asked.

  “I have no idea,” Cybil murmured. A little rush spiked through her as she tore off the wrapping. She hadn’t known this was coming. There was no sense of foresight at all.

  When she finally saw what it was, she froze.

  How was this possible?

  “Sean,” she whispered, dumbfounded. “Did you do this?”

  Because he was the only one who could have.

  He crouched beside her and held her elbow in support. “No.”

  Expensively framed in gilded gold, it was the picture she had taken of the ash tree. The one that made Heidrek’s face clear.

  It was astounding.

  Unimaginably striking.

  “Look.” Sean pointed to the corner where an artist would usually put their signature. While her elegantly curved “C” for Cybil was there so was something else.

  The Yggdrasill symbol.

  As if burned into the picture, it almost appeared to be on fire.

  “Oh, wow, Cyb,” Sam murmured, standing over her shoulder. “You’ve done some amazing work but this…there aren’t words. It’s amazing…he’s amazing…gorgeous.”

  Cybil was speechless as Samantha continued.

  “And it’s not a dragon this time except for the tat on his neck,” she whispered. “Very cool way to tie it in with the rest of them.”

  Cybil recalled how certain she felt the night before that a picture had been missing.

  And now this.

  “But how? Nobody else saw the picture.” Her eyes went to Sean. “Did you share it with anyone?”

  “You know I didn’t.” He frowned. “I wouldn’t.”

  “Then I don’t understand.”

  He shook his head and pulled her up. “Eat breakfast then we’ll figure this out.”