The Viking Queen's Men

by Holley Trent

  He shifted his gaze over to Ollie—the only movement he could manage—and his anguish was clear, though whether it was from the pressure in his head or from hurting Tess, Harvey couldn’t speculate.

  The vibration became louder still, and Harvey had no words to describe what it was and how it sounded. It pounded his brain like a powerful hurricane, and everything that wasn’t stiff and numb in his body was battered from the inside out from the assault. He felt like that violent hurricane was made of tacks and nails, and they wanted out of him.

  And he’d let them out any way he could if it’d make the pain stop. He’d cut them out of himself if he could, but he couldn’t move, and could hardly think.

  The only thing he could process as the pain pushed him down to his knees was that she hadn’t wanted to hurt them, but just like Harvey had to make Ollie understand where they stood, Tess had to do the same thing.

  There was a reason why their women called the shots, and there was a reason why the Afótama had a healthy fear of Muriel, who was as famous for her kindness as for her station. Muriel needed her own defenses to protect that big heart of hers, and obviously Tess had inherited some of her own.

  He felt an odd mix of pride and fear at his queen finding her power. She could break him, if she wanted, and maybe he deserved it.

  She released her hold on them, and Harvey’s body betrayed him. He fell face-first onto the concrete floor and couldn’t compel his body to move, not even when Tess’s boot heels clicked past his head and toward the door.

  He couldn’t push enough breath through his body to say her name, and couldn’t reach out to her telepathically, either.

  She was shutting him out, but maybe she had to for the good of them all. Afótama couldn’t cause harm to their mates without enduring an emotional blowback. Even though they’d fucking deserved it, she suffered for what she’d done.

  Fuck.

  “Gotta fix this,” Harvey said when his tongue’s clamp loosened.

  Ollie didn’t say anything for a long while.

  Harvey picked his head up a few painful inches and turned it toward him. Ollie was shaking, but he’d convinced his body to sit up.

  Warriors.

  Harvey had to admit that Ollie was impressive. The gods saw fit to push the groups back together after all those centuries, and it made good sense they’d match Tess to someone as strong as he was faithful. If Tess had to have anyone from Fallon, Ollie was the best.

  “Yeah, we’ve got to fix it,” Ollie said finally. He rubbed his eyes and exhaled sharply. “Or at least try. I’ve always been good at fixing things, but I think this may be beyond my skill set.”

  “But not mine. I’m the tactician of the two of us.”

  “Two heads are better than one, I suppose.”

  Harvey groaned. The double entendre wasn’t lost on him. “Are you agreeing, then?” He Harvey tried to flex his toes inside his shoes and found they wiggled. His body was communicating with his brain again, though he felt numb all over as if he were under some sort of partial anesthesia. He managed to pull his knees under him and get up on all fours.

  “I suppose I am. Look. I want what’s right for Tess. I want to give her what she needs.”

  “We both do.”

  “Yeah, but what you don’t understand is that my late wife was an adulteress. It’s hard to wrap this around my head. It feels like the right thing for Tess, but it makes me flash back to all those years of being cheated on. I don’t want to be in that place again. It’s a low place for folks like us.”

  “Tess fought for you. You really think she’d hurt you on purpose?”

  Ollie grunted. “No. I don’t. In fact, I think she’s holding some heavy shit back because she doesn’t want to hurt me.” He cringed. “Us.”

  Harvey used the workbench’s edge to pull up, and leaned against it while he caught his breath. “That scare you?”

  “A little. I’ll deal, though. You?”

  “Same.”

  “You understand that this is weird, right? We’re going to take a lot of shit for it, right at a time when Tess is trying to purge the built-up anxiety from the web.”

  “Honestly, I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that for much longer. As far as public opinion goes, for the time being I don’t see a problem with us carrying on as we have been. No one but a few insiders in Norseton know the particulars about our relationships. They expect Tess to take a consort, but there’s no urgent need for anything formal as long as they believe she’s acting effectively as our conduit. People will feel comfortable enough to start pairing off again, and by the time anyone realizes what’s happening in Tess’s household, no one will care enough to do anything about it. When people are happy at home, other people’s business becomes less of their own concern.”

  “I hope that’s true.”

  “And if it isn’t?”

  Ollie lifted his gaze from the floor and pinned it on Harvey. “Then my boys are going to have a rough time of it.”

  “We’ll keep them buffered.”

  “We, huh?”

  “We. That’s the only way this’ll work. You have a relationship with Tess, and I have one. I benefit from her being happy. If that means minimizing stress on your side of the triangle, I’m willing to do what I can. I hope you’d do the same for me.”

  Ollie didn’t say anything, just stared.

  Harvey would have paid handsomely to have that psychic tether to him just to know what the other man was feeling. Ollie had to know what Harvey was feeling, because that was one of his gifts, just like stripping memories. He tracked Tess too late to Fallon and had caught the tail end of the brawl. He’d watched Ollie clean up the mess—watched him work people over. Ollie’s ease at using his gift had made Harvey’s jaw drop. He was so casual, and yet gentle. Matt had been far more clinical about it. He’d made all those airmen forget, but they left disoriented. They walked out thinking they’d had too much to drink. Ollie’s charges, though, had left laughing. They believed they’d been in a damned good fight and won it. It took a good guy to make the extra effort without being asked, and that was exactly what Tess needed.

  “Yes, I would,” Ollie said finally.

  Harvey smiled. “Come on. Let’s go see if se can catch up to her.” He pushed away from the table and stopped upon feeling the warm wetness on his chest. Bright red blood trailed down his button-up shirt. He wiped the blood from his nose and reached for a clean-enough shop rag. “Shit. Might want to stop by the hospital first. I think I have bone fragments in my sinuses.”

  Ollie slapped him on the back as they walked to the door. “You can really take a punch, man.”

  “And land one, too. Sorry about your face.”

  “Not sorry about yours. Told you I’d fix that pretty problem.”

  “Dick.”

  “Nope. Viking.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Tess pulled the pillow over her head to block out the motel room’s light and the sound of her cousin’s voice. That didn’t stop Nadia from talking. She just talked louder, and occasionally lifted the corner of the pillow to make sure Tess caught particularly salient points.

  “Stop blocking me out!” Nadia shouted.

  “Am I allowed no privacy at all?”

  “Minutes here and there. The longer you go offline, the more panicked everyone gets. You’re going to have to figure out how to quiet the buzz without shutting the gate all the fucking way down. I know Ótama told you that you were doing it wrong, but this is overkill, cuz. The folks need their conduit.”

  “The folks will have to cope.”

  “Okay, you’re in a shitty mood and I get that, but you have to persevere for the sake of duty. Be pissed all you want, but handle business at the same time. No one expects you to be cheerful all the time.”

  “I could have killed them, Nadia. I know I could have—the power was right there within my reach, and I was so angry.”

  “But you didn’t. You knew when to walk away.”r />
  She had known, but actually walking had been difficult. Like Ótama had said, she needed to find the end of the thing, and she had. The end was scary. She’d wanted to make both Ollie and Harvey understand just how foolish they were, and she’d been sick of being ignored. She wanted to drive home the point so it was clear as day. She wasn’t going to put up with infighting within her own fucking inner circle. Ótama had, figuratively, shaken some sense into her during the men’s confrontation.

  She’d said, “Make them prove they could rule on their own, or else they will always be only consorts, never chieftains.”

  The ghost had been right, of course. Sometimes when Tess was around them, she became too passive for her own good. It was one thing to give up control in bedroom. She liked having someone else in charge of her pleasure, but out in public, she had to have a grip on the reins.

  There was a balance to power, and it changed with every encounter. She needed to learn how to ride it.

  She sighed and pushed the pillow off her head. “All right. Who is this guy who wants to talk to me?”

  “Guys,” Nadia corrected. “And don’t give me the fuzzy eyeball treatment when I tell you. I’m serious as a heart attack.”

  “Oh, shit. That doesn’t bode well.”

  Nadia waved a dismissive hand. “It’s just an introductory meeting. I’m sure they’re harmless.”

  “You’re sure, huh?” Tess hadn’t planned on this trip turning into a diplomatic function. She’d just wanted to see her man.

  Fat lot of good that had done her.

  “Trust me,” Nadia said.

  Tess guffawed. “That’s what you said right after you told me we’d be able to fly out of here no problem.”

  It turned out that they couldn’t get a flight out until morning, and Tess hadn’t been up to driving into the next big city. She wanted to lay around feeling sorry for herself, which was a luxury she hadn’t been afforded in far too long.

  “Look at the positives, queenie,” Nadia said.

  Tess rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

  “I’ll continue to do so because it makes me laugh. But as I said, look at the positives. You may be stuck here overnight, but being in the area put you into the path of someone I think you’ll really want to have at your back if push comes to shove.”

  “Like Ollie and Harvey, my supposed helpmates?”

  “I will pistol-whip you and feel no remorse, so help me, gods.”

  Tess put up her hands. “Fine. Tell me who they are and show them in.” She slid off the side of the bed and then, sighing, patted down her gnarly hair in the dresser mirror. She looked like a hot mess, and not even the fun kind.

  “Heath Horan, crown prince of the Sídhe, and his chief lieutenant Thom,” Nadia announced.

  Tess stopped patting, and eyed Nadia warily via the mirror. “Say what, now?”

  Nadia already had her hand on the doorknob. “Fairies, but don’t let them hear you calling them that. You’ve got to be careful with the Fae, queenie. You never know what kind of grudges they’re holding from way back when. Some ancestor may have pissed them off royally five hundred years ago, and now they have a chance to seek their revenge with you.” She wriggled her eyebrows.

  “If you’re trying to be reassuring, you fucking suck at it.” Circumstances like the one she was in was where having Harvey around came in handy. He navigated her through the diplomatic shit with far more aplomb than she could manage on her own. She blew a raspberry. Having Ollie around for the muscle right about then would have been a hell of a balm for her frayed nerves, too.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have left them crumpled on the floor like that,” she whispered. Her heart had broken seeing the anguish on their faces as she sent that surge of power through them, but she hadn’t known what else could she do. Keep shouting only for them to not listen? She’d made them listen, and she was paying the price for it.

  What if they don’t come back?

  “I doubt they’ll try anything,” Nadia said, oblivious to Tess’s inner turmoil. “It would be a political nightmare if they did. The last thing they need is to piss off the Afótama queen knowing you’re favored by the gods and blah-blah. We do share a few gods, so it’s in their best interest to be cordial.”

  “Favored by the gods, my ass. Show them in.”

  “You got it, queenie.” Nadia opened the door, walked to the railing, and shouted down to the parking lot, “Come on up, boys.”

  Tess sat on the frayed plaid armchair in the corner and folded her hands atop her lap. Then she realized how that must have looked, all prim and proper when she was anything but. She settled for placing her arms atop the rests. Her heart pounded as heavy footsteps thundered up the exterior stairwell, mingled with masculine murmurs.

  They seemed calm enough. Maybe her off-schedule meeting wouldn’t be a complete disaster.

  Nadia entered the room, and in spite of the angst she’d wasted on finding the perfect sitting position, Tess immediately stood when the men crossed the threshold.

  “Holy hell,” she said.

  “I believe that’s an oxymoron,” the man with short hair said. His grin told her he found the greeting far too amusing.

  They didn’t have pointed ears or ethereal light emanating from their skins, but even knowing what they were, Tess wondered how anyone could think they were normal men. The hues of their eyes were too rich for the human spectrum. Although the men were kind of pretty, they were also kind of greasy. Some women liked that shit. In all that motorcycle leather, they were nice to look at, but they didn’t stir anything in her the way her men did.

  She wrung her hands on her lap and pulled at the silks of the psychic web. Harvey’s thoughts were on bandages and gauze, Ollie’s on his swollen knuckles. Hopefully, they wouldn’t refuse her offer of comfort when she saw them…assuming they returned. She’d hurt them as badly as they’d hurt each other. She couldn’t blame them if they stayed away.

  The man with the short hair stepped in, pushed open the bathroom door, and turned on the light. He scanned inside and then stepped farther into the bedroom. He looked at each corner, then approached the beds. He gestured to them. “Hopefully you won’t be offended if I look beneath?”

  Tess shrugged. “Go ahead.”

  He looked under both, then turned to the other man—the one with the long black hair hanging in his face—and shook his head.

  “You two are really here alone?” the one Tess assumed was Heath asked. He pushed his hair behind his ears and Tess could see his raised eyebrows. “Are you bloody insane? Where’s your man? Where are your guards?”

  “Why would you assume I have either?” Tess asked. She put her hands on her hips and turned to the chair.

  “I know the way it works, love. The queen always has guards, because anyone who gets to the queen can upset the entire collective.”

  Tess plopped into the chair and crossed her legs. “Did you hear that, Nadia? I’ve apparently become queen of The Borg.”

  Her cousin snorted. “I’d say you’ve got the resistance is futile thing down pat, given what you did a few hours ago.”

  Tess’s stomach lurched.

  Heath crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall near the bathroom. “Dead serious. I know a lot more about some of the despicable things that go on in this world than you do. I’ve been around a very long time. I already know you’re a different sort of queen than your grandmother, because your grandmother wouldn’t have met with me like this. She would have had her aide tell Thom to make an appointment, and then I’d have to pass the muster of her consort. Your grandfather never let me get close, so I gave up trying.”

  “I didn’t grow up with my family.”

  He nodded. “So I’ve heard. Really, I just wanted to introduce myself, or try to, since I was in town. Bit of unsolicited advice, love—don’t travel alone. I’m sure your aide is quite capable, but…” He jammed his hands into his jacket pockets and looked at Thom. “There ar
e a lot of unsavory characters around here. Lawlessness is one thing, and I can certainly appreciate the drive to be free of structure, but these people have gone so long without purpose and guidance that they can be unpredictable.”

  “So we’ve noticed,” Nadia said. “But we appreciate the warning.”

  A loud knock on the door had Tess clutching her chest, Nadia reaching for her knife, and Thom moving fast as light to get between Heath and the opening.

  Thom put his hand on the knob and checked the peephole.

  “Probably overkill, guys,” Tess said. “It might just be some drunk who locked himself out of his room and thinks this one is his.”

  Thom guffawed and opened the door. “What the fuck are you doing here, man?” he asked whoever was on the other side.

  Tess craned her neck to see whom he was talking to, and her heart fluttered when a bruised and bandaged Ollie stepped into the room and did one of those complicated, rehearsed handshakes with Thom, and then gave Heath a man-hug.

  “I could ask you the same question,” he said.

  Harvey stepped into the room after him, owning a few more stitches and bandages than the other man, and looking rather chagrined. He walked straight to Tess and pulled her against him. “What the hell are you doing, letting strange men in? And why’d you leave?”

  “What?” She balked. She’d expected that their next encounter would start with a fight about what happened in Ollie’s garage, and what she’d done to them. What she’d done was unforgivable for so many reasons. She’d lost control.

  She opened herself back up to the Afótama web and tugged on its silks yet again, smoothing its edges down in her mind.

  There was Harvey, front and center waiting for her, and his thoughts weren’t of anger, but of regret. He thought the mess was his fault. Maybe it was in some ways, but Tess hadn’t played nice, either. She’d used excessive force because she only wanted to have to use it once. She wanted them to know the taste of it so they’d learn to combat it, if the need ever arose.