by C. Gockel
He put an arm around her and led her down the sidewalk. “I had to block my mind, so the others couldn’t read my thoughts. Are you okay? You’re not hurt? I was worried sick.”
“I’m okay. I met the Minotaur.”
He shook his head. “Thee moy. How did you get away?”
“It turns out he’s a nice guy.”
“I find that hard to believe. I know many vampires who are terrified of him.”
“Maybe he was just crushing on me.” She smiled and winked.
He laughed. “Now that I believe.”
Gertie noticed they had passed the square.
“Wait. Hector wants me to wait at the square.”
He stopped and cupped her cheeks. “Oh. I thought you wanted to help protect Marta’s family.”
She did. “I doubt I can be much help,” she said. “Unless you give me your powers again.”
“Just tell me what you want to do.” He looked deeply into her eyes.
“I, I want to go with you.” Was he using mind control on her? “I want you to drink my blood.”
She could feel him trembling beneath her hands as she caressed his back.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.
“Now that you’re here with me again, I am. I was terrified that I might have lost you.”
“Oh, Jeno.” She kissed his cheeks, then his mouth.
He returned her kisses and said, against her lips, “Without you, I have no reason.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true. If I hadn’t met you, I wouldn’t care one way or the other about the uprising. But now I have a reason to fight.”
“Let’s fight together,” she said, squeezing his hands. “Give me the power I need to help.”
“Not out in the open.”
He took her hand and led her around the corner and into a dark alley. Then he pushed her against the wall of a building and kissed her madly. Her heart raced with excitement as she anticipated the power she was about to gain. She stretched her chin into the air, begging him to hurry.
“Please, oh, please. Now!”
Jeno bit into her throat and ravished her.
The euphoria came over her, along with the dizziness, though she recovered more quickly than usual. The first thing she tried to do was read Jeno’s mind, but he still had it blocked.
“I have to keep everyone out,” he said. “Shall we fly? We might not have much more time.”
“Let’s go.”
Hand in hand, they flew up and over the city toward the Angelis apartment building.
They arrived in time to see the family around the dinner table, eating. Gertie felt nostalgic, wishing she could be among them. They seemed sad and quiet tonight. Maybe they missed her and were worried about her. She felt sort of like Ebenezer Scrooge with the ghost of Christmas Present. She wondered why they weren’t up in arms after her warning. Why were they going about their evening as usual? Hadn’t Hector told them that the vampires were coming?
Suddenly Mamá slapped her hand against the table. The other members of the family looked at her and froze.
“I’ve done as you asked,” Mamá said. “I’ve thought about what you said, Klaus. And you, too, Nico. But I can’t let you do it.” She broke into tears. “I can’t let you do it.”
Gertie turned to read Jeno’s expression and was stunned by the presence of the six vampires from the Hotel Frangelico gathered behind him. A few yards away, dozens more vampires hovered in the air, waiting. None of them had bothered to make themselves invisible. Although it was dark enough that people might not notice, to anyone studying the stars, the vampires would be a major shock.
“What’s going on?” she asked Jeno through quivering lips.
“We’re going to awaken my father,” Jeno said. “Come on.”
He took her hand and, along with the others, flew down to the apartment entrance. The front door was never locked, and the door to the basement was just off the entryway to the first floor.
The whole thing about a vampire needing to be invited inside must have been a law rather than a magical force, because Jeno and the six other vampires had no trouble entering a building where they were not welcome. The rest of them surrounded the block.
“Jeno, why are you doing this?” Gertie whispered as they flew down the basement stairs. “If your father leaves, there will be nothing in the way of the uprising.”
“I don’t want him destroyed,” Jeno said. “He’s my father.”
“You heard what Dionysus said. You’ve heard the rumors. You’re almost guaranteeing that the rebels will take over this city.”
“What would be so bad about that?” he asked, when they had reached the basement floor. “We’ve been living in caves for centuries, unwelcomed, shunned, and disadvantaged. Let the mortals change places with us for a while.”
Gertie couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Jeno, I’m a mortal.”
“And we can change that, if you’d like.”
She stood there at the base of the steps in silent shock, as the other six vampires surrounded the larger of the two coffins.
“Anyway, I don’t care about the uprising so much as I want to save my father, and I’m going to need your help.” Jeno took her hand and led her to the coffin. “You will help me, won’t you, Gertie?”
Gertie suddenly realized what Jeno intended to do. He intended to feed his father her blood.
One by one, the vampires broke the chains around the larger coffin. When the final chain was busted, several of the wooden doors in the basement opened, and five warriors with their swords drawn charged the scene. Hector was among them.
The warriors—one woman and four men—ranged in age from eighteen to thirty-five, with Hector being the youngest. They carried swords and shields, and they were glowing, like gods.
Before Gertie could think or respond, Hector spun around like a tornado and sliced off the heads of two of the vampires. One of the heads dropped at her feet. She screamed and hid her face in Jeno’s chest.
“I told you to go to the square!” Hector shouted at her.
Jeno lifted her into the air and crossed to the other side of the coffin. The other three vampires immediately positioned themselves between Jeno and the warriors as Jeno opened the tomb. Gertie barely knew what was happening when Jeno sunk his fangs into her wrist and then held it to his father’s lips. The ambushing warriors beheaded two of the remaining vampires, and then Hector stabbed his blade through the chest of the third. The third had gone invisible, but when the blade met his flesh, he reappeared as he fell to the ground, dead.
Jeno held Gertie close and growled, “Back off, or I’ll kill the girl.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Hector said through gritted teeth. “You’re in love with her.”
“But I’m not,” came an ancient voice from the tomb.
Jeno’s father sat up and pulled Gertie into the coffin. The dank smell made her nauseous, as she kicked and screamed and scrambled against the vampire’s grasp. Her superhuman strength was nothing compared to that of the older vampire.
Hector’s face turned white.
“Jeno, please!” she cried.
Hector swung his blade toward Jeno’s neck, and Gertie screamed.
“No, Hector!”
She managed to pull away from the older vampire’s grasp—maybe he let her go—and fly between Hector and Jeno. Hector’s blade stopped about an inch away from her face.
The hesitation was long enough for Jeno and his father to pull her with them up the basement steps and out of the apartment building. Flanked by both vampires in the dark sky, and surrounded by dozens more, Gertie turned back to see Hector running along the street beneath her, calling out her name. Tears stung her eyes. She hadn’t meant for any of this to happen.
Jeno tightened his arm around her waist. “It’s going to be okay, koureetsi mou.”
He kissed her hand, which was bloody still from where he’d bit her.
He licked her hand and arm clean and took another taste from the open wound at her wrist.
She closed her eyes to the euphoria the virus gave her as it re-entered her blood stream and travelled to her brain. This time, however, something was different. This time, a deep, dark yearning took possession of her. As they flew down toward the acropolis, Gertie found herself in desperate need of something.
The thing she needed was human blood.
~FIN~
Vampire Affliction: The Vampire’s of Athens Series, Book Two, is available at your favorite retailer.
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VALKYRIE'S VENGEANCE
An Introduction to Loki's Wolves Series
by Melissa Snark
A thirty-year alliance that aligned wolves and hunters has shattered.
Victoria Storm leads a few surviving members of her pack in a desperate flight. As the only surviving child of their leaders, the she-wolf inherited the role of Alpha. The violent deaths of her parents and the man she loved left her devastated, and the lives of her followers depend on her decisions. Simple survival often conflicts with the demands of preserving her Norse heritage, so she must struggle to balance her duties as Freya's priestess and Odin's Valkyrie. When innocent children are abducted, she must set aside her differences and work with her worst enemy to rescue them.
Valkyrie's Vengeance was adapted from "The Child Thief". This is an 33,000 word expanded version.
To my husband and my children. I love you.
Acknowledgments
Valkyrie's Vengeance is an expanded version of The Child Thief, so I'd like to acknowledge the beta readers who provided input on the original story. Many thanks to Carol Braswell, Lucinda Gunnin, Rissa Watkins, and Lara Parker.
My thanks also to the individuals who provided more insight along the way: Gabby-Lily Raines, Ana P. Martinez, Pamela Talley, and Jessica Kisia.
I can't begin to express my gratitude to Michelle Devon and Lynn Hunter for their patience and shared wisdom over the last couple years as I've developed my Loki's Wolves series. You guys rock!
Sheryl R. Hayes and Lisa Rayns are two of the best critique partners a girl could ask for.
Jen Whitten, thank you so much for the constructive feedback!
Praise For Valkyrie's Vengeance
This book is a great time! It combines all the best elements of the paranormal with a spine-chilling mystery. Although short, it is a well-told story full of twists and turns. The author has a light easy-going touch with a descriptive style that draws the reader into the action.
Although a little light on the shape-shifting aspect of the characters, the story explores other aspects of the supernatural, drawing inspiration from Viking mythology. This use of mythology in a modern way opens up a plethora of new ideas for the genre. “Valkyrie’s Vengeance” is a nice easy read, perfect for unwinding after work or on a Sunday afternoon.
InD'Tale Magazine
12/09/2015
Chapter One
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"Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! Merry Christmas!"
Cowboy Santa's recorded greeting ended on a nerve-grating crackle. The decoration fell blessedly silent once again. The large red and white inflatable St. Nicholas swayed with the force of the air blower keeping him erect.
Wincing, Victoria Storm started the mental countdown. T-minus thirty until the inflatable doll would once again bellow its holiday cheer. The constant drone of the machine's engine grated on her nerves and hurt her sensitive werewolf hearing. But it didn't annoy her nearly as much as the nails-on-chalkboard static.
She stood at the northwestern corner of a busy four-way light in front of a Western apparel store in downtown Albuquerque. People were out in droves taking advantage of the clear weather to do their Christmas shopping. The morning air was crisp and chilly, but the sun shone bright. Harried mothers herded rambunctious children. Women out for retail therapy moved at a more leisurely pace, chatting as they walked. Couples young and old had arms loaded down with bags and boxes. Traffic moved along at a snail-paced crawl. Vehicles navigated an obstacle course of curbside parking, stop signs and lights, and busy crosswalks.
"Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! Merry Christmas!" Crackle.
"Should we kill it?" Teenage werewolf Jasper shot Victoria a smile and a conspiratorial wink.
"It's just so..." Rotating her head, Victoria tried looking at it sideways. But no, doing so offered no improvement to the aesthetics of the decoration.
"Ugly?" Jasper quipped.
She pressed her lips together to contain the laughter shaking her sides and struggled to inject a note of warning into her voice. "Jasper, please..."
"Hideous?"
She heaved a long-suffering sigh.
"Want me to put it out of its misery?" Grinning, Jasper took a menacing step toward the blowup doll. He hiked his hand, fingers spread to suggest a claw.
"That would be wrong, and you know it." Victoria reprimanded him with a stern frown, unwilling to admit how tempting she found the suggestion.
A month ago, back when she had a lot more freedom and fewer responsibilities, she would've enjoyed a stab 'n run. Before she became Alpha of the Storm Pack following the violent deaths of her parents at the hands of hunters. As their new leader, Victoria was now the center of the spiritual connection shared by all the members. Today, her conscience dinged her for even daring to consider it. A proper leader didn't engage in vandalism or juvenile pranks.
"Blowup Santa dolls are wrong."
"Jasper..." Exasperation edged her voice. Her struggle to not dissolve into giggles hurt. "I said no."
"Huh." As Jasper huffed, his long arms swung far and wide. He came within inches of striking one of the many pedestrians crowding the sidewalks. The woman performed a sharp swerve to avoid getting hit and shot him a nasty glare as she passed.
"But I'm bored. How much longer do we have to wait?"
Victoria ducked and slipped neatly under his waving arm. The fifteen-year-old's hands and feet were larger than the rest of his body, making his movements awkward.
At a couple inches shy of five feet, the top of her head was even with his mid-chest. She had the muscular build of a dancer. Even though it had been years since her last formal training, she moved with the grace and precision of a ballerina.
"I don't know for certain," she said. "Freya didn't provide any specifics."
"But it has to be right here on this exact corner?" He stabbed at the ground and then flung his arm toward the opposite street corner. "Why can't it be over there?"
She settled her hands on her hips. "What, are you four? The goddess has commanded that we wait right here, so this is where we wait."
"But jeez, we've been here over an hour now." He stared at the invisible watch on his wrist and pulled the estimate out of thin air.
"It's been twenty minutes at most. How long we've been here is beside the point," she explained. "When a goddess tells you to wait–"
"You wait."
She nodded. "We wait."
Jasper didn't miss a beat. "Just what are we waiting for?"
"Freya didn't say."
His tongue poked between his teeth and past his lips. "Can't you ask?"
"One does not interrogate a goddess." Victoria frowned over his impertinence. All the while, she acknowledged her own edginess, feeling very much the hypocrite. Mentally, she extended a prayer to Freya. Goddess, what are we waiting for?
Freya's gossamer giggle flittered through her mind. Who is the child now?
Victoria sighed and replied telepathically, Well played.
Just a little longer, my priestess. Be patient, please.
"I'm bored." Jasper paced furiously. "I mean, like, really bored."
Victoria bit her tongue. Through the pack bond, she felt Jasper's impatience as if it were her own emotion. As pack mates, they shared an enduring and mystical connection. The empathic and spiritual union served as the foundation of their magic and held their social group together. It was most effective at close range. Only extreme trauma provided enough potency to unify them across great distances.
Glancing around, she resisted the desire to nag further. At twenty-four, she was nine years older than the boy, but it often felt like much more. She wondered how he’d reduced her to acting like his mother.
Her grungy appearance didn't help her disposition. She wore her pale blonde hair back in a braid. It had been weeks since she'd indulged in luxuries like makeup or nice clothing. Hot meals were few and far between, hot showers were even rarer.
"Did Freya hint at why we're here?" Jasper asked. "Are you a priestess or a Valkyrie?"
"Good question." She rocked on her heels, surprised at the boy's ability to parse the two. Her duties as Freya's priestess and Odin's Valkyrie often proved compatible. But the two things were far from the same. Not everyone understood that, even within her own pack.
"If you're here as a Valkyrie, I'll finally get to see you collect the souls of slain warriors destined for Valhalla." Eagerness energized the boy's voice, making it clear which option he preferred.
"It seems unlikely this will be the location of a great battle." She cast her gaze about the bustling venue. Not a warrior in sight. "You wouldn't be able to see the spirits of the fallen anyway."
"How do you know who to take?" He leaned forward, a bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes. Like most young men, Jasper loved stories of valor and glory, the gorier the better.
