Vengeance of a Viking (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors' Kin Book 2)

by Sky Purington

  As it turned out, Jackie was a family friend who traveled back in time to medieval Scotland and fell in love. In league with Grant MacLomain, or Grant Hamilton depending on who you asked, she had left Cybil and her sisters an astounding inheritance as part of a plan to lead them to this house and hopefully keep them safe from what lay ahead.

  “You’re sweet,” Megan said. “But I don’t think you’re truthful with yourself, Samantha.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Megan eyed her for a moment before she said, “Since you arrived at the Fortress with my son, I sensed something was off. And I didn’t know you in the least.” She squeezed her hand again. “But I do know him. When he returned with you, he was different, and I soon learned why. It was because of you, Samantha.”

  Before Sam could respond, Megan continued. “Bjorn has never watched a woman so much…so closely, as he did you. It was unusual for him,” she said softly. “Then you changed as well. You went from dancing, smiling and interacting with my people to spending endless hours alone watching the mountains behind our Fortress after Bjorn vanished up there.”

  Sam tore her eyes from Megan’s and looked out over the sea, surprised she had observed so much considering her husband was on his deathbed. But then she had been a queen for a long time, and this was her only son they were talking about.

  “I’m not sure what came over me,” Sam said honestly. “He just seemed so sad over…” Her eyes slid to Megan, and she shook her head. “Never mind. You don’t need to worry about any of that right now.” She patted her knee and worked at a smile. “It’s time to focus on positive thoughts and getting you better.”

  “It’s okay to say Bjorn is sad over his father’s illness. Because he is. We all are.” Megan studied Samantha’s face. “And it’s okay to say you’re worried about Bjorn. Because I am too.”

  Sam swallowed, confused by the emotions that washed over her. Confused by her increasing desire to return to the past to make sure he was all right. To make sure he hadn’t vanished into the mountains never to return.

  “I don’t understand my draw to him,” she whispered more to herself than to Megan. “Maybe it’s guilt after all.”

  “No, it’s not guilt,” Megan said, having heard what happened on Mt. Galdhøpiggen and Samantha’s strange, prophetic warning meant for Bjorn. She tilted Sam’s chin until their eyes met. “It is something else, Samantha. My guess is it’s a connection between your dragons…between your hearts.”

  “What?” Samantha whispered before her eyes widened. “No.” She shook her head and pulled away. “Definitely not.” No way, no how. She stood as heat flared beneath her skin and red skirted the corners of her vision. “Sorry, I’m sure he’s great, but he’s just not my type.”

  She felt like she was about to go up in flames so she headed to the end of the dock, plunked down and dipped her feet in the cool water. Shortly after, she heard a splash and Megan swam past.

  “Come take a swim with me.” Megan smiled as she lay on her back and floated. “The water’s wonderful.”

  “It’s a little chilly. You shouldn’t,” Sam started but Megan cut her off.

  “Shouldn’t what?” Megan asked. “Be happy? Find contentment?”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Sam splashed water over her legs, hotter than ever. “I just worry about…you know…”

  “Samantha,” Megan said, surprisingly lighthearted. “I have aggressive cancer. I’m sick. Very sick. You can say it because it exists.” She closed her eyes and floated. “You said I should focus on positive things so I am. This is the first time I’ve swum in the Atlantic in years, and it feels amazing. Come join me.”

  Sam had said that. Not to mention she was ridiculously hot. To hell with it. She stood, pulled off her bathing suit cover-up and dove in. The water felt like sweet Heaven. Like relief from a sunburn. When she surfaced, Megan was still floating with her eyes closed and a smile on her face.

  So Samantha did the same.

  A few blissful minutes passed as she basked in the coolness of the salty water and gentle waves.

  Eventually, Megan spoke, her voice soft. “I like you, Samantha. Very much. So I will tell you why you were so hot after we spoke. I will begin teaching you about what you are.”

  When Sam looked at her, Megan still floated, but her eyes were open.

  “You mean…about the dragon,” Sam said.

  “Yes, the dragon,” Megan replied. “The one inside of you, that is a part of you.”

  Sometimes it was easy to forget that though Megan was only human, her husband and children were dragon-shifters. She had raised, loved and understood them.

  Samantha still found it difficult to wrap her mind around the fact that she herself was one. She had always known she was different. Unique. Something unusual. But half-dragon? That pretty much blew her away.

  Yet she had no choice but to accept it.

  That became blatantly obvious after what she had witnessed in Scandinavia.

  “Okay,” Sam finally relented. “I don’t run from things, and I don’t intend to start now so tell me why I was so hot a minute ago. Because it happens often. Not quite as bad but still.”

  “All right.” Megan dipped her head beneath the water then started floating again. “Is it safe to say you’ve always been a night owl, Samantha?”

  Sam didn’t have to give it a second thought. “Yes, but what does that have to do with being hot?”

  “The sun.” Megan’s gaze swept over her. “Your skin’s very fair, and your hair is red, so the sun is not your friend. Therefore it stands to reason your dragon prefers night to day. Anything to get away from solar rays.”

  Well, that made sense. The sun had never done her any favors. She went from white to red then back to white again. Forget a nice, sexy tan. Her skin was all about how many freckles it could gather.

  “You are stunning, Samantha,” Megan said, almost as if she could read her thoughts. “And I imagine your dragon will be too.”

  Her dragon…a creature that would reflect her looks? “I noticed Cybil’s dragon was closer to the shade of her eyes when she shifted, but everyone else’s seemed to match their hair color. Why is that?”

  “It varies from dragon to dragon. Though more common, their coloring does not always match their hair. As to Cybil, she is unique regardless,” Megan said. “Special in ways I suspect we don’t even know about yet.” Her eyes stayed with Sam’s. “Good ways. Strong ways. So do not worry.”

  “It’s hard not to worry about her,” Sam said. “Or any of my sisters for that matter.”

  “I understand,” Megan said. “But I also connect with Cybil and can tell you with assurance that she will be okay. She has a good heart and an inner strength that will protect her well. And she has an astounding man who will always stand by her side.”

  “Right,” she murmured. “Heidrek.”

  She hadn’t known him long, but she liked the new king. He seemed to treat everyone well and unquestionably loved the heck out of Cybil. Sam smiled as she recalled the way he looked at her sister. The absolute worship and devotion in his eyes. Cybil deserved that. She had spent her life devoid of love protecting her sisters from what they were. Dragons.

  In fact, to this day, she and Cybil were the only ones out of their five sisters who actually knew what they were. But she couldn’t focus on that right now. Honestly, how was she ever going to tell Lauren of all people that she was half dragon? Her prissy, stiff, stuck-up sister might actually crack. Because God knows she was overdue to totally lose it. How else could it be considering she had yet to acknowledge she was served with divorce papers six months ago.

  “Your fair coloring is not the only reason you grew so hot just now,” Megan said. “Because that alone would not make you feel like you were going up in flames.”

  Samantha’s eyes shot to hers. “How did you know it felt that strong?”

  Megan touched the corner of her eye then tread water. “I think you know,
Samantha.”

  “You can call me Sam,” she said, trying to detour the conversation even though she wanted answers. “Everybody else does.”

  “Okay, Sam,” Megan acknowledged. “If it will make you feel more comfortable with this conversation.”

  “I’m not uncomfortable.”

  “Sure you are,” Megan said. “Because your dragon eyes came out when you spoke about my son. And you know that only happens when you feel very passionate about something or someone.”

  Samantha thought about the endless times she’d hidden her eyes from her family and even Rick over the years. Her douche bag ex. “Okay, busted,” Sam admitted. “My eyes get a little crazy when I’m overly emotional. And in Bjorn’s case, it’s because I feel like I somehow caused his distress.” She frowned and started treading water as well. “I wish I could undo what I said. Hell, I wish I could remember even saying it.”

  “You will eventually. When you come into and embrace your dragon,” Megan said, compassion in her eyes. “Until then, you must not grow angry when things don’t make sense. Trust it. Know that your dragon has your best interest at heart which means it will protect those in your inner circle first and foremost.”

  “My inner circle?” She frowned in confusion. “But I just met Bjorn.”

  “And yet your dragon was already connecting with him at Galdhøpiggen’s peak.”

  “How do you know it was my dragon?”

  The corner of Megan’s mouth curled up. “Because you were in a place of great power. Had it been anything else controlling you, Kjar and his wife, Aella would’ve known.”

  “Yet we’re facing an evil demi-god dragon enemy more powerful than any other,” Sam reminded. “What’s to say he wasn’t somehow influencing me?”

  “Not in the heart of the seers’ home.” Megan shook her head. “Not at the heart of Mt. Galdhøpiggen.”

  “Fine then. But if I feel passionate about Bjorn it’s only because I think I wronged him,” Sam reiterated.

  “You didn’t wrong him,” Megan said. “You just told him something nobody would want to hear.”

  “And that sucked.”

  “I can imagine,” Megan said. “But it’s not why you grew so heated before.”

  Sam tried not to get aggravated. Megan didn’t need that. “Care to share?”

  A wistful look entered Megan’s eyes. “Do you really want to know?”

  “I do.”

  “Okay.” Megan pointed to her eye again, treading water with one hand. “It was the way your dragon pupil flared.” The corner of her lip hitched up. “It wasn’t just responding to passionate emotions but to arousal.”

  “Say what?” Sam managed, mortified that Bjorn’s mother had just said that. “Nope, I don’t think so. Sorry, but like I said—”

  “I know. He’s great but not your type,” Megan said, a twinkle in her eyes. “Yet I know you have two eyes in your head.”

  “And two ears,” Sam kicked in. “No offense but your son doesn’t say much. And when he does, it’s pretty stern…and grumpy.”

  “True,” Megan conceded, the twinkle not fading in the least. “But what about your two eyes?”

  “What about them?” Sam fought a grin. “The last I heard, they were busy being dragon-like.”

  “So you find Bjorn unattractive then?”

  “He’s handsome enough I suppose,” she allowed. “But too…” She envisioned his beard, those cobalt blue eyes, that stern brow, and then his thick black hair. “Hairy.” Sam touched her chin. “No offense, but I’m more into a clean-shaven face.”

  “Ah.” Megan grinned. “So you’re wondering what he looks like beneath all that hair, are you?”

  “No.” Yes.

  “You could try to ask him to shave next time you see him,” Megan said, a wistful almost sad look in her eyes. “I’ve always said, the first woman who reveals my son’s face after all these years will be the woman meant for him.”

  “Why is he so determined to hide his face?”

  Megan was about to answer when she started coughing. Though she tried to hide it, there was no missing the fear in her eyes. Alarmed, Sam closed the distance. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” Megan gasped, struggling for air as she worked to stay afloat.

  “No, you’re not.” Sam didn’t think twice but wrapped her arms under Megan’s armpits and started toward shore. “Just relax, okay? I’ll get you to where you can stand.”

  A splash resounded from behind them, and in an instant, Svala was there. “Mother,” she said, her voice firm yet panicky as she helped Sam. “What has happened?”

  Megan tried to respond but only coughed more. By the time they got her to shore, she was coughing up blood into her hand.

  Confused, Svala looked at the blood on her mother’s hand, completely clueless about how to handle the situation.

  Seconds later, Sean strode into the water and scooped up Megan. “I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he murmured and headed for the house. “Get a warm cloth and a glass of water,” he said over his shoulder to anyone listening.

  “What are you doing with my mother.” Svala stormed after him, pulling out several daggers.

  Sam rolled her eyes and rushed to do as Sean asked, fairly convinced the Viking woman wouldn’t stab him quite yet. Even so, she made quick work of gathering everything and grabbed a butcher knife for defense before she headed upstairs. By the time she joined them, Sean was tucking Megan into bed. Sam handed him the cloth, and he wiped it gently over Megan’s mouth then cleaned her bloody hand.

  Meanwhile, Svala, the utter twit, stood with her weapons ready and her eyes wild.

  “What did you do to her out there?” Svala said, loathing in her eyes when they met Samantha’s. “You caused this.” She eyed her up and down. “How?”

  “Stop blaming Sam for something she didn’t do, Svala,” Sean said softly, holding Megan’s hand as her eyes slid shut. He didn’t bother to look at her uptight daughter. “Your mother explained to you what was going on with her yesterday.”

  “She explained that this sickness is in her lungs,” Svala said. “But that it would not hurt her. She would conquer it.” She gestured with disgust at the bloody rag. “Yet this wound hurts her.”

  “Of course, it hurts her,” Samantha spat and sat on the other side of Megan. “She has stage three lung cancer. That’s no joke, dimwit.”

  “Enough, Sam,” Sean murmured. “Svala’s just—”

  “Svala’s just what?” Megan’s daughter interrupted. Her deep blue eyes were wide on Sean then Samantha. “You both think I am not smart. That I do not understand my mother’s condition or the medicine needed to cure her. But I do. And now I realize it will not help her…nothing will.” She puffed up and narrowed her eyes. “As I knew all along, she should have come sooner but was too much of a coward.”

  Before Sam could respond, and it was going to be nasty, Svala stormed off.

  “That girl seriously needs a reality check,” she said under her breath.

  “A reality you’ve already lived and have a better understanding of,” Sean reminded gently. “Don’t forget that.”

  Sam scowled. “You’re starting to sound like Mema Angie.”

  Sean shrugged, his sad gaze on Megan’s face. “She’s right, Sam. Svala’s been raised in a culture far different than ours. One less advanced.” His eyes met hers and he took her hand. “Let’s cut her a break, okay?”

  She might not like to admit it, but he was right.

  “Yeah, okay,” she mumbled. “Just keep an eye on her, Sean. She’ll stab you in the back before you see it coming. And I don’t mean that figuratively.”

  He nodded. “No worries, I’ll be okay.”

  That was the last they spoke of it as they took shifts watching over Megan until Sean went to work. When Mema Angie returned in the early evening, she helped out too. She might be pushing seventy, but the woman had the energy of someone far younger as she whipped up dinner for Sam then saw to other things as
well.

  “Go get some rest,” she told Sam around eleven PM. Sam had dozed off on the couch, her plate of food barely touched.

  “I’ll watch over Megan through the night,” Angie assured.

  “But you were up all day,” Sam argued. “Wake me at midnight, and I’ll take over.”

  “I’ll wake you if I need you,” Mema Angie consented, ushering her upstairs. “And no sooner.”

  “But—”

  “No buts.” Angie moved her right along. “Sleep.”

  “Okay, okay,” Sam said as she plunked down on her bed. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” Mema Angie closed the door, murmuring, “Sleep well, darling.”

  Wiped out, Samantha didn’t bother changing out of her clothes but shut off the light and laid down. As always, her eyes went to the picture…the dragon. Sad and frustrated with her circumstances, she closed her eyes.

  Seconds later, her tattoo didn’t just warm but burned like a fire poker, and she shot straight up. Thunder rumbled, and lightning flashed as the pain intensified. Sam bit her lip hard and whimpered as she stumbled from her bedroom and down the stairs. Everything was dark so she assumed Mema Angie was in with Megan. Maybe some aspirin and medicinal tat cream might help. She clenched her hip and winced. Dear God, anything.

  By the time she made it to the kitchen, she was in so much pain she skipped the other stuff and went straight for the Tequila. Bottle tipped back, she chugged it before a light flashed and caught her attention. By the time she lowered the bottle her eyes were wide. She couldn’t be seeing clearly.

  Could she?

  But she knew she was as she leaned against the counter, gripped her hip and stared out at the ash tree…the Yggdrasill. There was no missing what she saw there. Her tattoo, the Gungnir, was carved into the entire length of the trunk and glowed brightly. But believe it or not, that’s not what shocked her the most.

  Nope. It was that Bjorn stood beside it. And he was angry.

  Samantha would never know what came over her when her eyes locked with his. He might be outside, at least fifty feet away, but she saw him clearly. And she was suddenly raging mad. Or maybe she had been all along.