She was done with this. She was just fucking done.
She marched to the doorway and made her way upstairs to the bathroom, meaning to straighten her hair out and splash some water on her face. The last thing she wanted was to have Vika and Tor walk in and find her a freshly kissed wreck.
All she’d intended to do was tidy herself up and come back down, but as she passed her bedroom on her way back she found herself taking a detour. Maybe a different book would take her mind off things until they got back. She opened one of her bags and dug around amidst the books, looking for something that might hold her interest.
It must have taken longer than she realized. The sound of the door banging downstairs made her start. That must be them this time.
She could already hear footsteps coming up the stairs as she walked to her bedroom door. As she opened it, Tor was already in front of her and she stepped backward to let him in.
“What happened?”
She scanned Tor’s face, searching for any possible clue, but Tor’s expression was impassive, his eyes shuttered.
“They’re sending her for tests.” Tor closed the door behind him without turning around. “Vika’s gone for a walk to clear her head. The doctor tried to stay upbeat but I think he scared her.”
I think he scared her.
The image of Vika scared, suffering, flashed into Kala’s head and refused to budge. Wanting to do something, anything to blank it out, she looked up at Tor’s face, seeing the fear behind the serious mask, and stepped into his space, reaching up to kiss him.
Tor kissed her back, urgently, passionately, and Kala was lost.
She stumbled backward, her calves hitting the mattress, then her balance was gone, tumbling them both onto the bed. Almost without thinking, Kala kicked off her shoes. An image of Vika annoyed about shoes on the quilt flickered across her mind, then was blanked out as Tor buried his face in her neck, trailing kisses along the sensitive skin.
She couldn’t help but notice how different it was from the vardøger. The silence of that night versus the sounds she could now hear—Tor groaning, guttural, hoarse. She clutched at his ass as his hard cock pressed against her thigh. The smooth heat versus slick, sticky skin when she slid her hands up under Tor’s T-shirt, dragging her fingers along his spine. She rolled herself on top of him, unfastened his jeans to reveal his length and engulfed it in her mouth, silk over steel.
How she had longed to taste him again, taste the pre-cum gathering at the tip and the caramel of his skin. How she had pictured the trail of dark hair she had longed to follow down. Tor was already bucking underneath her, moaning, and Kala shifted out of her jeans and knickers, leaving Tor’s on. She had no time—she needed him now.
And she needed to hear him.
“Talk to me,” she demanded. She rose above him, positioning herself over his cock. “Tell me it’s you.”
You’re Tor. My best friend’s brother. Not the vardøger. You’re Tor.
“It’s me,” Tor gasped back, his voice rising when she slid down onto him, locking him in place. “Oh, God!”
Kala threw back her head and moaned. She started to move, sliding up and down on him, feeling the drag of his cock inside her. Oh, God, perfect. The pleasure was already spiraling in her gut, and it would need to be fast—they were safe for now, safe to moan and scream if they wanted to, but Vika could be back at any moment, and oh, God—
Tor’s hands rose, clutched at her ass and Kala cried out as the sensations built, higher, higher, then exploded outward, heat and electricity radiating from her core. Tor stiffened then let out a low, guttural groan when her clenching muscles triggered his own release.
Letting him slip out of her, Kala dropped to the bed beside him and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling his arm slide around her.
“Let’s not tell Vika yet.”
Tor hugged her a little tighter. “Just so long as you don’t forget you’re mine.”
Kala let a small smile cross her face.
I like that. You’re mine.
Tor murmured again into her hair.
“It was always you.”
Kala’s heart leaped as she recognized the words.
Always you.
Chapter Six
#xa0;
An email notification flashed in the corner of her screen. Kala clicked it open, recognizing Mack’s email address even before the message was visible.
Loving the vardøger story! Why don’t you see if there are any other paranormal myths while you’re there?
Kala allowed a smile to cross her face. Barely finished one story and Mack’s already on to the next. No great shock there.
It had been two months. Two months of supporting Vika in her fear, two months of one test after another, then the terrifying word ‘biopsy’, lurking like the hangman’s noose.
There had been times when she had just wanted to wrap Vika in a blanket and hide her away from the world, from anything that might threaten her safety.
An operation, they had said. We can’t know anything for sure, they had said, while handing out leaflets about ovarian cancer. Try not to worry, they had said, as Kala and Vika had sat holding the frightening statistics, as Vika had been forced to sign preoperative forms and swab herself with a cotton bud for MRSA.
‘Try not to worry ’. As if anything else was even possible.
The operation was the following day. Vika was to go in that afternoon to be given final checks and monitored before going under general anesthesia, preparing to have an ovary removed. They had been reluctant to perform a full hysterectomy at Vika’s age, although the oncologist had made it clear that if it became necessary, it was still very much on the table.
“Take what you have to,” Vika had said, with a coldness in her voice that had sent a chill through Kala. “I don’t need any of it that badly.”
She was hiding behind a mask and it made Kala want to scream.
And Tor. God, what this had done to Tor.
For the first week after they’d made love, Kala and Tor had pretended nothing but friendship. Kala had felt like a sixteen-year-old again, sneaking kisses when nobody was around, touching herself at night as an unsatisfactory replacement for Tor’s presence. She had known Vika would feel weird about her being with her brother, and now was not the time for weirdness between them. This could wait.
Then Vika had surprised them in the bathroom.
Looking back, it was ridiculous. It was juvenile.
And it had had the potential to have been even more embarrassing.
She had just gotten out of the shower and had been combing out her hair in the mirror while wrapped in a towel, when Tor’s face had appeared behind her. Before she’d had time to say or do anything, he’d slid his arms around her waist, pressing a soft kiss to her neck, and Kala had melted.
She could only be thankful he hadn’t chosen to unfasten her towel when he’d turned her around in his arms.
“I would say get a room, but I think you’ve already got one.”
Kala had frozen, afraid to move quickly for fear of losing the towel. Tor had stepped back, standing up straight to face his sister, who had been leaning against the doorframe with arms folded, looking for all purposes like a disapproving teacher—but with a glint in her eye.
“Vika—”
“Oh, don’t bother, Tor.” Vika had shaken her head, her blonde hair in a flurry around her forehead. “I could hear the hormones crackling around you two from the day Kala arrived. I was wondering how long it would take for you to say something.”
“It doesn’t bother you?” Kala had asked.
A smile had crossed Vika’s face. “As long as you don’t tell me what he likes in bed. I really don’t need to hear that. Apart from that, it’s my best friend and my brother—what’s not to like?”
And so they’d stopped hiding from Vika, although Kala had made an effort to avoid making eyes over the breakfast table or too much noise at night. There were limits to Vika’s toleranc
e, after all.
But Tor… Tor had suffered.
She had found him sitting in his bedroom, in the living room, staring at walls. Sometimes punching them. He refused to talk, refused to tell anyone how he was feeling. Trying to protect Vika, or her, or himself—it was hard to know—but Kala had left him alone at first, not wanting to push him.
Even now he was reluctant to talk about it. But he had held her a lot, seeming to work his feelings out that way. Then, one day, he had sighed and hugged her tighter.
“Oh, baby.”
She had hugged him back.
“I know. It’s tough.”
Tor had sighed again. “Just don’t tell her, yeah?”
“I won’t.”
And she hadn’t. Vika would have insisted on being told everything, wanting to help, but Vika was the one sick. She deserved all the care and attention, not to have their own worries put on her.
She popped her head round the open door into Vika’s room, where Vika was packing a small holdall on the bed.
“You don’t need to take much, you know. We can bring you anything extra you need.”
“I know, and I’ll be in a nightie most of the time.” Vika stared down at the bag. “I just don’t want to spend too much time thinking. I’ll panic.”
Kala glanced over Vika’s shoulder. The holdall was almost completely packed with books.
“You really need a Kindle.”
“Bit late now.” Vika shrugged. “Anyway, there’s only one charge point at the bed and I need that for my phone.”
Kala doubted she would have her phone on charge the whole time, but decided it wasn’t worth debating.
“Have you got everything?”
“Think so.” Vika looked down. “And, yeah, I know you’ll be in every day. You can keep me distracted.”
“You’ll be hitting on every male doctor and nurse in the place. You’ll have plenty of distractions.”
Vika laughed and Kala joined her, conscious that the laughter was being strangled somewhere in her chest. They were babbling and she knew why.
Vika was having an operation. For cancer. And they were all terrified.
Without thinking, she reached out and pulled Vika into a hug.
“It’ll be okay.”
“I know.” Vika hugged her back, hard, and Kala let out her breath in a rush.
It’ll be okay. Focus. It’ll be okay.
“Tell you one thing,” Vika added as they broke apart. “You need to bring in your story once it’s done. That’ll definitely take my mind off things.”
“Yeah,” Kala agreed. “That’s a much better image to have in your head. A Bigfoot.”
Laughing, Vika turned to zip up her bag and Kala’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She dug it out, her mind still full of what Vika had said.
Her Bigfoot story.
She’d been working on it non-stop for the past two months. Vika had been pestering her to show it to her the whole time, but Kala had been firm—not until it was finished.
It was almost finished. A couple of days of edits and it would be ready to go.
Ready to go.
The thought of sending that precious file out to publishers made her gut clench. It was her pet project, her baby. To think of publishers— objective publishers, she had to admit—looking at it with a cold eye, finding mistakes, judging it, made her cringe.
But she had to bite the bullet and get it out there.
And, Vika being Vika, she would never tell the truth about whether or not it was good. Kala needed fresh eyes on it before she could be sure—and those eyes would have to belong to a publisher.
She clicked open the email that had appeared on her phone. It was from Niall, an editor for Spiritualise, an online paranormal magazine.
Hey, are you still in Norway? Any scope for an article on local myths and legends?
A grin spread across Kala’s face. So, not only Mack was interested. It seemed like she would have enough work to keep her going for a while.
She could stay in Norway for the foreseeable future. Take care of Vika, and—
As Vika threw her bag over her shoulder, Tor’s voice came from behind them.
“You ready, Vika?”
“Yeah, I’ve got everything.” Vika made for the door, slipping past Tor as he stepped to one side. “I’ll go put this in the car.”
Kala was about to follow her but Tor caught her by the shoulder. She looked up into his concerned face.
“You okay?”
“I’m not the one being operated on.”
“I know that. But we’re all stressed.”
Kala held his gaze for a moment then let out her breath in a rush. “Yeah. A little. But I’m fine.”
Tor touched her cheek, tipping her face up toward him, then leaned in and kissed her.
Oh.
Kala slid her arms around him, feeling the comfort of his firm body against hers.
It would be all right. She could stay here with Tor for as long as she liked. She could help with Vika and they could be together.
At last.
Me and Tor. My best friend’s brother.
After all this time. But somehow, his being Vika’s brother no longer mattered. He was Tor and he was hers.
And the vardøger had brought them together. She would never forget that.
As their mouths parted, Tor whispered into her hair, “Good to go?”
“Yeah,” Kala whispered back, smiling. “I’m good.”
And she was. Because she was here, and Tor was here, and she was loved.
And all because of the vardøger.
And somewhere in her head, she was sure she felt something nod in agreement.
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
In the Halls of the Mountain Troll
Tanith Davenport
Excerpt
Chapter One
#xa0;
Rain spattered the windows of the café, mist making the sunlight bleak. At a table by the wall a man was sitting with a breakfast tray, a small stack of paper on the seat beside him, oblivious to the sideways glances given by the other customers. His messy beard, tousled brown hair and heavy duffel coat gave him the appearance of a slightly cleaned-up vagrant.
“This place is too expensive.” Astri Ingebrigtsen dropped her food on the table and sat down across from him, throwing her dark hair back out of her face. “At this price these eggs should be gold-plated.”
“Get Micke to pay.” Otto grunted, looking down as he dug through his paperwork. “He wanted to stop here.”
“I did. He moaned.”
Otto rolled his eyes just as Micke appeared beside him, breakfast in hand. Without a word Micke picked up the papers then dumped them unceremoniously on Otto’s tray before sitting down with his own.
“Paying for Lise’s too?” Astri asked casually.
“Get lost,” Micke snapped.
As Lise joined them with her own food, Astri turned her attention to her breakfast, smiling to herself. Micke was so easy to wind up.
But God, it had been a miserable week. She cast a rueful glance out of the window to where their trailers sat in the car park, each attached to a Jeep. They were a necessity when they were on a job that required travel, but try as they might, it was impossible to keep them properly warm inside, even with the help of space heaters and extra blankets.
And this had been a long job. Traveling every day, out hunting every damned night. She was beginning to think it would never be over.
Otto was spreading a map out on the windowsill, eating his svele one-handed as he ran a finger along the road markings. The shrill ring of a mobile phone cut through the air and he cursed, dropping his fork and burrowing his hand into his coat pocket.
“Otto here.” He paused. “Not yet. We left Trondheim this morning.”
Astri exchanged glances with Lise. This sounded important.
“We should get there around two. We’ve booked ahead. Tell him to wait in our cabin
.” Otto hung up the phone and eyed Astri and Lise, who looked back at him innocently.
“That was Gunther. Our new addition will be meeting us in Orkanger.”
“What did you say his name was?” Lise asked through a mouthful of bread.
“Kai. Kai Amundsen.” Otto glared at Micke, who had let out a dismissive snort. “Enough, Micke.”
“We don’t need more people.” Micke twisted in his seat to face Otto, his mouth twisted in disgust. “Too many of us attracts attention. And we don’t need a greenhorn holding us back.”
“We’ve been over this. We need his research to capture it.” Otto held up a hand to forestall any further response. “This is not negotiable. Eat.”
“He’s right, Micke,” Lise cut in. “We’ve been chasing it for weeks. This could mean we finally catch it.”
Micke slammed his fist on the table, making the cutlery jump. “I do not need some college student to tell me how to do my job. When he’s never in his life caught a tr—”
“Micke! ”
About to snap back at Astri, Micke caught her eye and shut his mouth. Astri hastily scanned the room to see if anyone had overheard.
It didn’t seem like it. A few heads had turned at his outburst, but apparently nobody had picked up on that last dangerous word.
She glanced through window again at their trailers and Jeeps. It would be so easy for people to work out what they were doing. That film a few years ago had helped throw people off the scent, making the truth much less likely to be believed. But even so, they were hiding in plain sight. It only needed one conspiracy theorist to blow the whole thing wide open.
Micke kept his head down for the rest of the meal. The rain had eased a little, but the wind hit them in the face like a knife when they opened the door. Automatically, Astri pulled up her hood and fastened her coat. Lise ran across the gravel car park toward their car, her blonde hair streaming behind her like a silk scarf. By the time Astri reached it, the engine was already running, and as she climbed into the passenger seat she felt the warm blast of the heater.
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