Love Beyond the wall (A Rizer Pack Shifter Series Book 1)

by Amelia Wilson

  It was the Draugr.

  The Ulfen rose and rushed to her, grabbing her hand and pulling her after him into the next car, moving in the direction opposite the one she’d been traveling in before. She clung to her bag and followed him, preferring the company of a strange werewolf to that of the vampires who were hunting her on behalf of her father. They burst through first one set of doors, then another, traversing three cars in their flight. The Draugr footsteps followed them on the roof, keeping pace all the way.

  “Pray for a tunnel,” Dominic told her.

  He found a toilet and pulled her inside with him. There was barely room for both of them to stand, especially since he was so broad. He pressed up against her, his chest against her back, his pelvis tight against her buttocks, and he wrapped his arms around her. She could feel his camouflage envelop them both, and she held her breath, although she knew that it made no difference if she were breathing or not.

  The footsteps continued past them on the roof, running farther down the car before they stopped short and turned. The Draugr circled back, then hesitated. He had clearly lost the scent. His footsteps raced away.

  “Is he gone?” she asked.

  “Shh.”

  They heard the car doors open, and the same footsteps stalked down the aisle. They hesitated outside the toilet, and Dominic covered her mouth with his hand to keep her quiet. She grabbed his hand with hers, simultaneously clinging and trying to tear it away from her face. He resisted her efforts, and then, miraculously, the Draugr outside the door walked away.

  They listened until the footsteps vanished completely in the rushing of a car door as the Draugr abandoned the train. Mia sagged against the wall and closed her eyes. She nearly dissolved into tears; only her pride and her unwillingness for a werewolf to see a Dark Sister in tears allowed her to keep her composure.

  Dominic released his hold on her mouth and backed up as much as he could in the confined space. “He’s gone,” he told her.

  She slid away from him, stepping out of the toilet and into the aisle. He followed her. “Whose blood is all over your jacket? Your last kill?”

  He looked insulted and tossed his head. “Mine.”

  When he moved his jaw, she saw a raised scar on his throat, the clear mark of a Draugr attack that had not healed well. She had never seen an Ulfen who didn’t heal from a vampire bite.

  “What happened to your throat?”

  “Don’t be stupid,” he grumbled. “You know what that is.”

  “Why didn’t it heal?”

  He popped the collar of his jacket, hiding the mark. “I guess I’m just lucky that way.” He walked away from her, but after he’d gone a few feet, he turned back to face her. “You’re welcome.”

  She didn’t respond right away. She just went back into the toilet and closed the door, locking it behind her.

  Chapter One

  Erik sat in what had been Magda’s office at Snake Eyes and looked at the pile of ledgers on the desk. Nika crouched behind him, rummaging through the bookshelf, pulling out more of the leather-bound record books and piling them up beside the first. She stopped and stood beside him, one hand on her hip, the other on his shoulder. He snaked an arm out and encircled her legs with it, his hand on her thigh.

  “That’s the last five years,” she said. “Do you have any Draugr accountants that we can pay to go through this mess for you?”

  He sighed and flipped through the pages of the top book on the pile. “They’re not actually a mess. Magda was very precise and deliberate. Her records are pristine.” He turned another page, then closed the book. “But you’re right. I am no accountant, and I can’t begin to figure out whether this place is in the black.”

  Across the room, another vampire sat cross-legged, examining a list of invoices. She was dressed in blue jeans and a Detroit Red Wings hockey jersey with a big number 5 on the back. Her hair was spiky and dyed improbable colors. Her ears had each been pierced five times, and a gold hoop pierced her left eyebrow. She had a tracery of tattooed cobras around her wrists like permanent bracelets. She looked like any other millennial in Stockholm…except for the fangs. “Oh, Snake Eyes is in the black,” she said. “But whether it stays that way once the supply of illegal dreyri runs out is anybody’s guess.”

  “Elke,” Nika asked, “how much faery blood is left?”

  She squinted up at her. “Enchanted or unenchanted?”

  “Both.”

  She scratched her head where the hair was pink. “Unenchanted, about seventy barrels’ worth.”

  Erik was horrified. “Seventy barrels?” he echoed. “Good gods!”

  Elke nodded. “And enchanted, about five hundred barrels and about a thousand cases of bottles. The Draugr population won’t have to go cold turkey on its faery blood addiction just yet.”

  Nika moved her hand to the back of her man’s neck. She tried to gently rub away the tension that she could feel building there. He was going to be developing another one of the headaches that dealing with his new kingship kept causing him. She bent and kissed his temple, literally blowing a healing breath against his skin, the air coming out of her laced with tiny glowing runes. The arm around her legs squeezed in silent gratitude as the nascent headache evaporated.

  “We won’t have them go cold turkey,” she said, knowing that his initial plan had been to destroy the enchanted faery blood. “A bunch of vampires with the DTs would be a nightmare. We ought to start mixing the faery blood with the human-based dreyri until we can wean them off of it.”

  He sighed. “You’re right. I hate it, but you’re right. Until then, I want to maintain strict controls of the stock.” Erik sat back and Nika ran her fingers through his blond hair. “I want to make certain that we are the only place where the Draugr can get this shit.”

  Elke stood, unfolding in one smooth motion that revealed her pre-turning past as a competitive gymnast. “Sure thing, boss. I’ll go double check the locks. You two should be the only ones with a key. By the way, the staff are running a little betting pool.”

  Erik glanced at Nika, and she smiled at him. He looked at his assistant. “What betting pool?”

  “That Mia will be brought back here before the wedding. There’s a lot of money changing hands.”

  His expression soured. “I don’t want people betting on my daughter’s well-being.”

  “Nobody said anything about her well-being,” Elke said with a shrug. “Just whether she’d be back.”

  Nika chuckled. “Okay, I’ll bite. What are the odds?”

  “It’s 3 to 1 that she’ll be back before the wedding, 5 to 1 that she’ll be back afterward, even odds that she’ll make some sort of dramatic appearance on the day itself, and 17 to 1 that she’ll vanish forever.”

  Erik sighed. “And where have you put your money?”

  Elke grinned. “Dramatic appearances. I’m a sucker for that stuff.”

  In spite of himself, he smiled back. Her impish good humor had an infectious effect on his moods, an unanticipated but very valuable fringe benefit to her installation as his assistant. Nika was glad she had that effect on him. “Get out of here, you little turd,” he said.

  She giggled and skipped out of the office.

  “She’s incorrigible.”

  He guided Nika to take a seat in his lap. She went willingly, draping her arm around his neck. She kissed him. “Totally true. Now, Mister Captain Thorvald King of the World sir, how would you like to get some lunch? We’ve been in here for hours, and if I don’t get a break, I’m going to hit something.”

  He smiled at the string of names and ran his hand over her scarlet tresses, stroking the soft waves that ran from the crown of her head to the small of her back. Since she had been turned, her hair had grown much fuller and longer, and he loved to touch it almost as much as she loved receiving that touch.

  “Okay,” he agreed. “Let’s go take a break.”

  “Excellent.”

  She started to stand up, and he pulled her bac
k down. “I thought maybe…”

  “No way. If you want to make love, you’re going to have to take me to a bed, or at least a couch.”

  “There’s a couch in here.”

  She tapped the end of his nose with her fingertip. “No. No office nookie. I am sick of looking at this place.” She hopped up onto her feet. “Air, Your Majesty. I need some, right now.”

  He let her pull him out of the chair, a smirk on his face. “I can’t go out there. The bar is full of Draugr who all want something.”

  Nika linked her arm with his. “I’ll protect you.”

  “Promise? I’m scared.”

  She looked at him, and she burst out laughing, unable to maintain the charade. The thought of a warrior like Erik being afraid of toadies was too much.

  “What?” he asked. “There are vampires out there.”

  “You giant goofball!”

  Erik laughed and slid his hand down to take hers. “All right, since you say you’ll protect me, I’ll be brave.”

  “Stop!”

  “There’s just one thing I need to know,” he said.

  She raised one slender eyebrow. “What’s that?”

  “Did you seriously just use the word ‘nookie?’”

  Nika laughed and gave him a soft slap on the arm, which made him chuckle. “You are such a brat!”

  “Yes,” he nodded. “It’s part of my charm.”

  “I never said you were charming.”

  He grinned. “Touché.”

  They made their way out into the bar proper, leaving the private office and going into the open front area of Snake Eyes. The room was filled with Draugr, some old, some very young, all of them jockeying for position and trying to attract the attention of their new king. One of the Draugr, a startlingly beautiful woman with raven hair, bowed to them as they entered the room.

  “Your Majesty,” she said, her voice throaty. She cast her dark eyes down, flirting outrageously.

  Erik more or less looked past her. “Good afternoon, Maria,” he greeted. He took Nika’s hand and walked her out of the bar, headed for the bright light of day outside. As they passed the assembled Draugr, Nika could feel the weight of their stares on them, and she could almost taste their barely-restrained yearning for favor. Erik walked past them as if he didn’t see them, but Nika couldn’t replicate his calm self-assurance.

  Courage, Erik told her through their Chosen bond. They would never hurt you. They wouldn’t dare.

  I’m not really afraid of them hurting me, she responded in kind. I feel like a rock star waiting for the fans to rush the stage.

  Erik chuckled and held the door for her, his touch making the ward jangle through the club. He was the only surviving member of the First; the ward would respond to nobody but him, now. She stepped out into the sunlight, enjoying the warmth on her skin. She was grateful that the Draugr weren’t the sort of vampires that Hollywood movies showed. She would have been very sad to never see daylight again.

  He joined her on the sidewalk, slipping his arm around her. His hand settled comfortably on her hip and she leaned into him.

  “Let’s eat in a sidewalk cafe somewhere,” she requested. “I love the feeling of the sun today.”

  “Your wish is my command.” He kissed her temple. “I know just the place.”

  Chapter Two

  They walked a few blocks south of the club until they reached a little restaurant with cheerful yellow tables and white umbrellas. The hostess seated them and handed them brightly-colored laminated menus. Erik smiled at Nika as they got comfortable.

  “I’ll bet you never would have believed that life as a vampire could be so sunny,” he said.

  She laughed. “No, indeed. Based on all of the movies I’ve seen, we should be bursting into flames or something.”

  “I try not to do things like that,” he said drily.

  Once they had ordered their lunches and the server had taken the menus away, she reached out and took his hand, holding it on the table top. “So, do you want to talk about the wedding?”

  “I expected that we would eventually,” he smiled. “I think that weddings belong to brides. Just tell me what you want, and I will make it happen.”

  “Don’t you have any opinions?”

  “As long as we’re married at the end of the day, nothing else matters to me.”

  She brought his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers. His hands were so masculine, broad and strong, just like the rest of him. There was nothing about Erik that didn’t entice her. “You’re so sweet,” she told him.

  “Just being honest.” He touched her face gently, his eyes warm. When he looked at her like that, she was convinced that nothing could ever be wrong in the world. “So… you must have a thought or two.”

  “A few,” she admitted. “I want my friend, Tamara Jackson, to be my maid of honor.”

  “Tamara,” he repeated. “I know you’ve mentioned the name, but I don’t think I know her.”

  “You met briefly, just before the Rune Sword was stolen. She was the one I was at the exhibit with.”

  He snapped his fingers. “Oh, yes! The one who wanted you to call her.” He smiled devilishly. “Tell me, did you ever make that call?”

  “Not right away,” she admitted. “Things were a little busy, if you’ll remember.”

  “I remember very well.”

  “I called her once we got settled in Mellerstön. She was mad at me - boy, was she mad! - but we got everything straightened out. Once I told her about you, she was full of questions and relationship advice.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  Nika smiled and brushed an errant lock behind her ear. “I told her that I was swept off my feet by a hot Swedish Special Ops soldier who stole my heart and whisked me away to his homeland.”

  “Ah! The truth, then,” he grinned.

  “And nothing but the truth.”

  He leaned across the table and kissed her. Their lips lingered, and it was only reluctantly that they parted. Their moment was interrupted by the arrival of their food, and they settled back into their chairs again.

  Erik cut into his open-faced sandwich and asked, “So, Tamara as your maid of honor. Why don’t you call her and invite her to come to Stockholm? We can put her up in a nice hotel.”

  She stirred her soup. “That sounds great. Who do you think will be your best man?”

  He hesitated, and she saw a flicker of sorrow on his face. All of his friends, his brothers, were dead; the losses had been so recent, she wondered if he’d even had time to properly grieve. She suspected that the loss of men he’d known for literally centuries would take a long time for him to accept.

  Finally, he said, “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out, though.”

  “Are you okay?”

  He smiled for her, but it looked forced. “Fine. How’s your soup?”

  “Hot.” She hesitated. “But I guess it can’t really burn me anymore, can it?”

  “Nope.”

  He watched as she took a tentative spoonful; although it was certainly hotter than she would normally have liked, it didn’t cause her any pain, and the taste was not obscured. She shook her head. “I guess I still have a lot to get used to.”

  “It’ll come in time,” he reassured her. “You only turned a few months ago. It’ll be hard to overcome a lifetime of habits learned as a human, and nobody expects you to do it over night. Nobody else has.”

  “Not even you?”

  “Especially not me.” He took a sip of his water, then asked, “So, about the wedding… do you want it to be in a church, or at the courthouse? Or maybe Ingrid should officiate in the old style?”

  She considered the question. “Well, since you’re not Christian, it seems kind of silly to have a church wedding.”

  He shrugged. “It’s up to you. It’s whatever you want.”

  Nika looked at the rune tattoo on her arm, then said, “I think, all things considered, we should have an old-style wedding, with Ingr
id doing the honors.”

  For someone who had claimed to not care about the details, Erik looked awfully pleased with what she’d said. She chuckled to herself.

  “All right, then,” he said. “I’ll give her a call and let her know.”

  Erik’s cell phone interrupted their conversation, playing Roger Daltrey’s voice singing “Who are you?” He scowled at the offending object and swiped the screen to take the call.

  “Hej,” he answered.

  A man’s voice responded. “I know where your daughter is.”

  Nika leaned closer, although she could hear the other speaker perfectly well thanks to her augmented hearing. Their eyes met as Erik asked, “Who is this?”

  The man laughed. “Someone who wants to prove his worth to his king.”

  “Where is Mia?”

  “Expect a text.”

  The call ended abruptly, and Erik frowned. Nika asked, “Did you recognize that voice at all?”

  “No.” He watched his phone expectantly, and finally he was rewarded by an incoming text with a photograph attached. He opened the photo and they looked at it together. The photograph showed Mia with her hair bleached blonde and cut short. She was leaving a train, her elbow being held by a young man in a tattered leather jacket. Nika gasped.

  “That’s Dominic. He’s Ulfen. I met him in Norway.”

  “Is he a threat?”

  “He saved me from his pack the night they killed Lars and Sif.”

  “That can’t have made him very popular with Ardrik.” Erik studied the photograph, specifically the signage and objects in the background. “I can’t tell where this picture was taken, and the number that sent it is unlisted. I need to figure out where she is.”

  Nika sat back. “When we were on that stage in Uppsala, when you executed the First and Magda… what were you going to do with her?”

  “It depended.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether she was acting of her own free will or if she was being compelled by my brothers.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe she would have done those things to me unless someone ordered her to do it.”