He paced after Sonja’s father and caught up with him before he rejoined the Irish fairy queen. “We need to talk,” he said.
Troy wheeled around, his hand reaching over his shoulder for the sword strapped to his back. He gripped the sword hilt but didn’t draw. “You are a man without honor, Vidar. When I persuaded Odin to release Sonja from the Crystal Crib twenty-six years ago, we agreed that she would be told nothing of our world and never be involved in our conflict.”
Frustrated anger twisted Vidar’s guts. He would have adhered to the agreement. “Odin had other ideas.”
“Odin always does.” Troy slashed a glance at the grizzled old man hunched upon his ice throne. Odin’s good eye was fixed on them, the other hidden behind an eye patch.
Troy released his sword hilt and raised his hand, throwing a light dome around himself and Vidar for privacy. For a split second his face fractured with emotion, but then his barriers snapped back. Regret rode heavy on Vidar, a memory of a time long ago when they had loved each other like brothers. Before Troy’s father Loki had killed Vidar’s brother and spurred Odin into an orgy of violent retribution that still echoed horror through the halls of Asgard.
“I am not the aggressor, Vidar. I never was.”
“Nor I, Troy.” They stared at each other, the bad blood between their families too bitter and venomous for any hint of friendship to have survived. “I did my best for you when my father wrought revenge. If not for me, Sonja would have died in her crib.”
“Yet now she’s grown you put her in harm’s way?”
“She’s under my protection.”
“That rather negates your threat to harm her if I don’t behave.”
“You know I would never have followed through.”
“I should raze this icy hell to the ground for what Odin did to my family.” Troy’s jaw tightened, and Vidar’s hand went to the sword hidden beneath his coat—not that it would do him any good if Troy decided to unleash his power. “But I enjoy watching your father squirm while he awaits my vengeance. One day I’ll punish him, but not tonight. Go after my daughter and return her safely to the human world.”
Vidar let his hand drop away from his sword. Once they had been equals, young men sparring together, learning the pleasures and dangers of the world they inhabited. Now he doubted he could even stand against Troy in hand-to-hand combat. But he dared not show weakness. “Give me your word that you won’t cause trouble.”
“I give my word I will wreak havoc if you don’t look after my daughter.”
“Understood.” That was the best he could hope for.
“And . . . Vidar.” Troy waited for him to meet his gaze before he continued. “You will never tell Sonja that her power’s trapped in the Crystal Crib.”
Vidar gave a sharp nod. That was something on which they agreed.
The light dome dissolved with a pop, and Vidar strode away through the crowd, ignoring the frantic gestures of his father who would want details of his conversation with Troy. He surged out through the door into the darkness.
Odin’s shape-shifter spies waited perched on the edge of a carriage in raven form, no doubt ready to follow him. Vidar balled a handful of ice crystals and hurled the missile at the bigger bird. Huginn shot into the air in a flurry of black feathers.
“Get lost!” Vidar shouted as Muninn followed his brother.
Sonja stood alone near their sleigh, her arms wrapped around her body, her teeth chattering. He strode up behind her and gathered her into his embrace. “I’m taking you back to Santa’s world.”
“How are you involved with me and my father?”
When she tried to turn around and look at him, he held her tightly against his chest. He should have prepared for this question. “You’re cold and tired. Let’s talk when we’re back in the warmth.” After he’d had time to come up with an answer.
She didn’t object as he hustled her past the sleeping snow cat and into the sleigh. At a word from him, Gleda stood and stretched, flicking her tail. He pulled back on the reins. They reversed off the ice platform and headed toward the woodland where he’d left the theme park’s shuttle.
Sonja huddled deep in the fur coat he’d disguised as a thermal fleece, staring at something in her hands.
“Are you all right?”
When she didn’t reply, Vidar clasped both reins in one hand and used his fingers to tip up her chin. He’d thought she might be crying, but she stared at him dry-eyed, the same guarded expression on her face that Troy wore so well. She’d arrived at his office earlier that day excited and enthusiastic. In a few short hours, he’d killed her excitement and drained her enthusiasm. Bloody good job, Vidar.
He lowered the mental guard he’d raised to block their bond and let his consciousness flow around her. A cold impenetrable wall of resistance met his attempt to enter her mind. For the first time in her life, she’d shut him out. He stared at her in shock. It made no sense unless she’d guessed he was the presence in her mind.
“Sonja, talk to me.”
She dragged in a breath. “Dreams don’t come true.” She tossed away the small thing she’d been holding and he realized it was a resort logo button.
“Are you all right?”
“What do you want me to say, Vidar?”
“Tell me what you thought of your father.”
“You were right. I look like him.” Her voice stayed level, almost unemotional, but the protective shield around her mind wavered and a flash of misery escaped. She felt unwanted, unloved. A pain stabbed the vicinity of his heart.
“Your father only stayed away from you for your own good.”
She cast him a disbelieving glance.
“It’s complicated, Sonja.”
“And I’m too stupid to understand, I suppose.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He couldn’t take her back to her room and leave her miserable. With a twitch of his wrist, he changed Gleda’s direction.
Sonja’s head tilted. “Where’re we going now?”
“I want to show you my favorite view.”
He slowed the sleigh as they approached the flat icy rock. The sleigh’s metal runners scraped onto solid ground.
Despite Sonja’s melancholy, her curiosity picked up when Vidar stopped the sleigh. An occasional snowflake spiraled out of the dark sky toward the endless expanse of glittering frost-glazed landscape below.
Vidar slid close and curved a supportive arm around her shoulders. She resisted the temptation to lean back against the reassurance of his body. She had a sick sense that she was the butt of a joke. Everyone at the Yule Fest obviously knew who she was, and had enjoyed the spectacle of her father rejecting her.
Green light flashed across the dark sky. “There.” Vidar pointed as the colored lights pulsed around them. “Humans call it the aurora borealis. It’s really the light elves showing off.”
She sensed Vidar looking at her and couldn’t resist a quick glance his way. He grinned and her stomach did a strange flip. She’d never experienced such a strong connection with a man before. It was as though on some level she’d known him all her life. She had started to trust him by the time they reached the Yule Fest, despite the fact he’d sprung his strange world on her with no warning. But after what happened at the party . . .
“Explain what went on at the Yule Fest tonight, Vidar.”
He pulled her tightly to his side and the heat from his body seeped through the fur, warming her. Streaks of green, blue, and pink shimmered across the sky.
After long minutes when she thought he wasn’t going to answer, he leaned close to her ear. “Tonight you got caught up in a family feud. Just forget about it, elskan mín.”
She wished she could rewind tonight and delete what had happened. But she’d met her father. “Forgetting’s not an option.”
Vidar’s breath hissed out and he tightened his arm around her. “I know you feel that Troy abandoned you, but he did it to protect you.”
�
�Protect me from what?” She swiveled around to see Vidar’s expression. The golden glow of his eyes took her breath away each time she looked into them. His face was so close to hers she felt his breath on her skin. Her world narrowed to the man in front of her. Her fingers flexed against his chest. “Didn’t Troy want me in his world?”
“It’s not that simple,” Vidar whispered. His hand slid up her back to pull off her hood. His warm palm cupped the back of her head. “Sonja . . .”
He was going to kiss her. She should stop him. She had so many questions he hadn’t answered. Yet her gaze dropped to his lips. He closed the gap between them, his mouth finding hers, hot and smooth, dangerously seductive. Her aunt always said not to mix business with pleasure. But this was way past business into uncharted territory.
The hot tip of his tongue touched her lips, and her mind blanked as he deepened the kiss. Her hand tingled, longed to burrow beneath his coat in search of skin. But it was too cold to start removing clothes.
She barely noticed the squawking and flapping sound until Vidar pulled away from her and looked up. Her heart raced, wanting more of him as if she’d been waiting for him all her life, even though she knew little about him and his world scared her. The two black birds that had been circling above them peeled away and disappeared into the darkness.
Vidar cursed and rubbed a hand across his face. “They’re bad news. I need to get you back to your room. Have you scheduled a flight home?”
The speed at which he moved from intimacy to getting rid of her left her breathless. “You want me to leave?”
Cold bit into her at the uncompromising gleam in his eyes. “It’s best.”
“I left the return date open,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“Check flight times when you get back to your room. Take the first available flight to London.”
“Are black birds a bad omen or something?”
“Forget about them. I just want you off this frozen rock as soon as possible.”
No room for confusion there. Both Vidar and her father had mood swings that threatened to give her whiplash. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask about her deal with the resort, but she would find another way to impress her aunt. Her head was spinning with everything she’d experienced since she arrived. One day in Iceland was long enough to last a lifetime.
Chapter Four
Sonja sat on the bed in her room with her laptop balanced on her crossed legs and booked her homeward flight. She’d finally met her father and found a man who she connected with deeply, yet Vidar and Troy both wanted her gone. Why did nobody want her? She felt more alone than she’d ever been in her life. She’d always known she was different from other people because of her guardian angel, but she wouldn’t allow herself to seek his reassuring presence. After her disturbing visit to the ice palace in the sky and her glimpse of the weird people at Odin’s Yule Fest she no longer trusted anything out of the ordinary.
The first available flight to London was in the morning, so that meant she was stuck in Iceland for a night. She booked an early cab, packed her bag and fell into a restless sleep. Fractured images of her father and the weird people at the Yule Fest alternated with heated memories of Vidar’s kiss and the feel of his body pressed against hers.
She woke in the still of the night and blinked into the darkness. A streak of illumination from the light outside penetrated between the curtains. Tinny Christmas music still played in the distance, although the time was well past midnight.
Something dropped onto the pillow beside her head. Sonja raised herself on an elbow and picked up a black feather. In the sliver of light, it gleamed blue-green like oil on water. Where had that come from?
Movement in the shadows snagged her attention. She sat up, squinting at the corners of the room. The darkness stirred. A scream burst from her lips. Fingers clamped over her mouth from behind, wrenching her neck sideways against a bony chest.
“Shhhh. Shhhh,” a male voice hissed in her ear.
A second figure loomed out of the darkness in front of her. He stripped away the bedcovers from her body. She clawed at the hand over her mouth while her legs were pulled over the edge of the bed and her ankles tied together.
When the hand left her mouth, she dragged in a frantic breath and screamed as her wrists were jerked behind her back. Then a gag tightened between her lips. She struggled, kicked, grunted, and banged her head back against the bony chest until sparks swam in her vision. She must escape now. Once they took her from her room, no one would find her. Anyone who checked would think she’d left for her early flight. She opened her mind, longing for her guardian angel, but he wasn’t there. More than ever, she needed his calm support to help her cope.
Dark, suffocating fabric covered her face. Her breath came in short panicked gasps while they manhandled her. The material enclosed her, and she fell awkwardly. They had put her in a bag. The tight binding on her ankles and wrists bit into her skin as she was carried.
Her head banged against something. Pain speared down her neck, bringing tears to her eyes. Cold hit her and the festive music blared louder. Then she landed with a bruising thud on a hard surface. Muffled voices argued for a moment, then she felt movement as if she were in a carriage or sleigh like the one Vidar had used.
Why had she come to Iceland? She hated the damn place. She opened her mind to her guardian angel again, begging him to come to her. She implored him for help, as she had many times over the years when she’d felt lost and alone and she’d had nobody else to turn to. The image of Vidar merged with the angel’s presence in her mind. Vidar, Vidar . . . She repeated his name—a silent mantra to keep her sane.
Suddenly, his presence flooded through her, shoring up her shredded control with a tender supportive embrace as if he held her in his arms. Vidar was her guardian angel. Vidar was the loving presence in her mind. How was that possible?
Vidar jolted awake to find himself slouched on the sofa before the log fire in his retreat. A flash of terror streaked along his mental link with Sonja, and her anguished call burst through his mind. After years bonded to her he responded automatically: calming, soothing, in the same way he had since she was a baby. He blinked and swiped a hand over his face as his thought processes caught up with his instinct. He’d left her in her cabin at the resort hours ago. She should be asleep. What in the Furies had happened to her?
Staggering to his feet, he knocked the shot glass and empty vodka bottle to the floor. His temples thudded, making him wish he had held off drowning his sorrows over having to send Sonja away to protect her until she was safely out of the country. He pulled on his boots, grateful now that he hadn’t got around to undressing, and headed toward the door. At the sound of whistling wind battering the protective heat shield over his front door he wheeled around to snag his fur coat off the back of the sofa. He wouldn’t be much use to her if he froze to death.
Outside his cabin, frigid air laced with snow slashed his face. If only he could leave this miserable frozen place and return to his mother’s people in Italy. If only he wasn’t Odin’s son. If only he could be with Sonja. His life was filled with if onlys . . .
He pushed two fingers between his lips and whistled, squinting through the blizzard at the snowy slope above his cabin. His snow cat Gleda bounded toward him, freezing droplets flying in all directions as she skidded to a halt at his feet.
He slapped her shoulder affectionately, wiped the worst of the snow off her fur, and threw a leg over her back. His heart thundered in response to Sonja’s panic, but he would rescue her or die in the attempt. Vidar leaned forward to speak directly into Gleda’s ear so she heard him over the roar of the wind. Then he tangled his fingers in her silky mane. His stomach lurched sickly as she flung herself off the icy ledge over the ravine, yet the feeling had little to do with the drop.
Sonja landed with bone-jarring force on the ground and lay still inside the dark, airless bag, gathering her wits for what she would face next. Her teeth c
hattered uncontrollably. On the journey, the chill had penetrated the bag and her fleecy pajamas to pierce the very marrow of her bones. Now she was lying on a surface so cold it could only be ice.
The bag loosened and the fabric peeled back from her face. She blinked at a gleaming expanse of white. The large space was empty, but a long sooty stain on the floor in the center of the room looked like the remnants of the Yule Log that had burned at Odin’s Yule Fest.
Still tied, she wriggled around to peer behind her. Odin sat bundled on his ice throne. His long gray hair and beard hung in matted clumps over his stained coat. A huge wolf crouched on either side of his throne, golden eyes glued to her as if waiting for the command to attack.
“Huginn, turn her round,” Odin ordered. His voice sounded like a glacier grinding rocks to dust.
A skinny man with long dark hair and pointed features pulled the edge of the sack, sliding her around in a graceful arc to lie at Odin’s feet. The gaze from the god’s single visible eye raked over her accusingly. His scowl deepened, creasing his ancient face like old paper.
“She has the look of the Deathless One,” Odin said.
Sonja lay still so she wouldn’t antagonize him, but she listened intently.
Another man who looked like Huginn’s twin stepped into view. They had to be her two kidnappers. “Is she dangerous?”
“Of course not.” Odin flapped a dismissive hand. “Her power’s bound to the Crystal Crib.”
“Shall I remove her gag so you can question her?” Huginn asked.
“I’ll cast the runes first.” Odin pointed his staff at a table across the room. “Muninn, my bag.”
The more timid of the two kidnappers retrieved a brown leather bag with a drawstring top. Odin shook the bag then dug inside and scattered on the ground a handful of rectangular wooden pieces marked with symbols. He stared down at them, absently scratching his beard.
A Midwinter Fantasy Page 20
