Nika tried to find more energy to send another paralyzing spell, but she had nothing left to give. She was still too weak and new as a Draugr to fly. There was no way she could reach Erik unless she simply jumped.
Given the choice between watching him die and a possible broken leg, she opted for breakage and jumped.
Bengstrom was ill prepared for her descent. She landed hard beside Erik and grabbed Bengstrom’s arm, wrenching him away from her lover. She could hear a bone snap inside his shoulder, and it matched the one that had shattered in her leg. Her teeth were flashing and she flung him away.
“Nika,” Erik managed to say. “The knives…”
She pulled the daggers out of Erik’s sides, and he sagged in relief. Bengstrom approached cautiously, holding up his good hand.
“He called you Nika. Are you Nika Graves?”
She hissed at him, her human side completely subsumed by the vampire. He did not come closer.
“Nika, I am a friend.”
She bent over Erik and helped him to his feet. Police officers and other humans were running in from the outer edges of the spell, and she was no longer maintaining it. The hold the magic had was beginning to weaken.
“We have to get out of here,” she told Erik. He nodded.
Bengstrom came to her and helped her carry him. She growled warningly, but he ignored her. With a common effort, the three wounded Draugr made it to the SOG van, and Bengstrom drove away at top speed, roaring away from the conference center.
Epilogue
They ditched the van about two miles to the east and stole an unremarkable sedan. Bengstrom continued to drive until they reached Ingrid’s little house by the shore. The old woman helped them inside and opened the root cellar, where a cask of dreyri waited. The three vampires settled down around it and drank it nearly dry, fueling their healing and recovery.
They stayed at Ingrid’s house for days, waiting until the furor over the attack on the summit died away. Somehow, the old woman retrieved the Book of Odin and returned it to Nika. When she was asked how she had done it, she only smiled.
Nika cut the bullet out of Erik’s shoulder while Ingrid splinted both Nika’s leg and Bengstrom’s arm. She left them to the dreyri and their conversation.
“When did you turn?” Erik asked his friend.
“Just after your team was killed,” he said. “I was approached by a woman who said she was your friend, someone who said that you would need a proper team again. She offered me the power, and I took it.”
“What was her name?”
“She said her name was Sif.”
Nika’s jaw dropped. “Magda’s bodyguard?”
Bengstrom shrugged, and Erik chuckled. He raised the mug he was using to drink the dreyri and held it up.
“Here’s to old friends and unexpected rescues,” he said. He looked at Nika. “And to old loves made new.”
Nika smiled. “Skål.”
And then they kissed for a very long time.
*****
THE END
About Next Book In Rune Series
Rune Hunter
Rune Series Book 3
By:
Amelia Wilson / J. A. Cummings
Prologue
Summer had come to Sweden, bringing warmer days and the days of the midnight sun. The wildflowers bloomed and gave their scents to the warming breeze coming in from the sea, intertwining with the salt and the water to create a natural perfume. It was idyllic.
In the depths of the forest, a council was underway. A campsite that was normally used by humans had been reserved for the event, and a wall of illusion had been put up around it to conceal the happenings inside. The faery had gathered from all around Scandinavia, something they normally did not do, but the events of the winter had made it imperative.
Ardrik, the Ulfen chieftain, stood in the center of the meeting ground. Around him were arrayed trolls, with their hairy heads and hulking bodies, and the Nøkken, rightly angry. A trio of the Huldra sat together, their comely faces and shapely bodies nearly entwined, throwing sexual tension into the mix because they simply could not contain themselves. There were nisse and tomte, sensed more than seen, and a bevy of witches complaining bitterly to one another about the actions of their sister, the Aesir vessel and witch Ingrid Nilsson.
Ardrik believed that there had never been an assembly like this one, and for a good reason. The faery creatures were too chaotic to accept an order for long, something that made his people, the wolf shifters, eschew their company. It was best, he thought, to get this meeting underway before everything got out of control. Already there were hungry looks from one of the Vittra to the youngest of the Mara, and the mylings were beginning to cry. It was time to get started.
“My friends,” he said, raising his voice as only an Ulfen could. The raucous gathering fell quiet, and he heard only the whisper of the wind in the trees. “We are gathered because of the affront of the Draugr to our kind.”
The leader of the Nøkken rose. “They killed my brother! Our king, who carried the soul of Loki! They burned him!”
A chorus of anger and calls for retribution rose. Ardrik held up one of his hands and allowed a half-shift, his hand elongating and claws growing from his fingertips. “Yes. Your brother Sigurd was slain by the Draugr Rune Master and her Huntsman.”
“Two Huntsmen,” one of the Huldra objected, her cow’s tail whipping in the open, crumpling her skirt. “We had been told that only one remained, but there were two.”
One of the elves waved his hand dismissively. “The second one is of no concern. He is newly turned, and he is no vessel.”
Ardrik asked, “Though the death of the Nøkken leader is a great pity, it is only one murder, and from what I have heard, he had it coming. Have there been other actions by the Draugr? Speak.”
One of the Mara complained, “They have been harvesting our blood against our will.” The crowd grumbled in anger. “They kidnap us and drain us for their evil tastes.”
Ebba, the most powerful of the trollkona, rose. “They went into one of our villages and destroyed all of the trolls living there. Trolls, trollkona, even our children – all put to flame.”
Again, there was a wild outcry of rage. In the midst of the cacophony, the Nøkken chieftain roared, “They have begun a war against the faery! I demand justice!”
The eldest Mara rose, her black hair wild around her emaciated shoulders, pooling like shadows on the white fabric of the nightgown that she wore. “The Ulfen are our soldiers. Will you rise? Will you protect us against these attacks by the vampires?”
Ardrik looked at his contingent, including his three eldest sons. They dropped to all fours and transformed, their huge wolf-forms quivering in anticipation of the order. He made his decision.
“We rise. Let this be war!”
Chapter One
Nika woke to the gentle sound of a summer rain against the window pane and the warm security of Erik’s arm looped around her waist. She was lying on her back, and beside her, his head sharing her pillow, he was sleeping on his side, his arm flung across her with the sort of protective possession that he always showed.
She looked into his face, taking in the tousled blond hair and the pale perfection of his skin. He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. His lips were ever so slightly pink and his nose was perfectly straight. With his eyes closed, his golden lashes spread out against his cheeks. His fine, high forehead was unlined, and he looked like an angel. Unable to resist, she kissed him.
The first kiss went unnoticed, but the second brought the barest opening of his lips and a sigh of contentment. She smiled and let him sleep.
The windows were speckled with moisture, and the morning light was filtered through rain clouds blowing in from the east. From where she was lying, she could look out the window and see the choppy grey sea, the whitecaps cresting toward the rocky shore. Sea birds wheeled overhead, and she could see boats on the water as the village fishermen went out in sea
rch of herring.
Their lives had been quiet since New Year’s, when Erik had purchased this cottage on the island of Mellerstön, extending out into the Bay of Bothnia. Theirs was the only house on the island, and if they wanted to reach civilization, then they had to take a boat to the mainland. The nearest big town – if you could call a city of 23,000 people “big” – was Piteå, where they obtained their groceries and picked up the shipments of dreyri that Sif sent them from Stockholm. Their isolation was splendid and complete, leaving them with nothing but nature and each other.
In this quiet place, they lived as Erik might have lived before he was cursed, with a few exceptions. Nika was modern enough to require electricity and indoor plumbing, and he complied with her wishes. Their cottage was thoroughly modern in amenities, with a massive generator that Erik and Lars Bengstrom had hooked up in early January. There was a stable with two horses, a boat house and their boat, and a satellite dish so that Nika could still make contact with the world at large via cell phone and computer. It was perfection.
Ostensibly, she was here working on a book about Viking history. Her employers at the Royal Museum of Stockholm had given her a twelve-month sabbatical to do her research. She was halfway through that span of time and hadn’t committed a single word to paper. She had been too busy enjoying her new life with her man.
Erik stirred beside her, pulling her closer, his hand cool against her stomach through the thin fabric of her night gown. She put her hand over his, marveling not for the first time how large his hands were compared to hers. Erik was a big man, strong and capable, but he was also loving and gentle. She had seen all sides of him in the time they had been together.
She held up her palm and brought forth rune power, something that came easier to her every day. She let a series of tiny runes dance along her skin. She pressed the runes to his hand, and he inhaled sharply at the unexpected prickly sensation as the glowing runes raced up his muscular arm. She grinned as he opened his eyes.
“No fair,” he murmured, still half asleep.
Nika kissed him. “All’s fair in love and war.”
“Not runes. Runes aren’t fair.” She kissed the tip of his nose and ended her magical caress. He smiled and opened his bright blue eyes. “You didn’t have to stop.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t fair.”
“I did, but I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”
There was mischief in his eyes, and she laughed. “You always wake up happy.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” He kissed her neck. “Look who I have in my bed.”
“Hmm, and I thought I was the lucky one.”
Erik smiled. “You can keep thinking that all you like. Don’t stop on my account.”
She snuggled in against him. “So…I was thinking maybe we could go into Piteå, do some shopping… maybe eat out…”
“We don’t need anything, do we?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Bored?”
“No.”
He sat up a bit and looked into her eyes, clearly puzzled. “Then what’s the occasion?”
She put her arms around his neck. “Seven months ago today was the day we met in America.”
He kissed her, then broke into a smile. “Our souls have known each other for over a thousand years, and you’re excited about seven months?”
Unperturbed, she answered happily, “Yes.”
He chuckled. “You’re adorable.”
They kissed again, and he moved away, sliding out from under the covers. The blankets fell away to reveal his well-built frame, the view unhindered by clothing. She wholeheartedly approved. As he walked toward the bathroom, she enjoyed the sight of his muscles flexing beneath his fair skin. He could make fitness models weep with envy.
As he walked, ignoring that fact that he was providing her with a feast for the eyes, he said, “When you get older as a Draugr, you’ll have a completely different perspective on time.”
“Maybe,” she allowed, “but this is my perspective now.”
She got out of bed and followed him into the bathroom. He was turning on the shower, testing the water temperature with one hand, facing the door with a grin. He’d known she would come in.
“Okay,” he said. “We’ll go celebrate our monthiversary.”
“Monthiversary?”
“Well, it’s not a year yet, so it can’t be an anniversary, can it?”
She slipped her nightgown over her head and hung it on a peg on the bathroom wall. When she turned back to face him, his eyes were warm and he was smiling in appreciation of the view. She chuckled. “Were you just ogling me, Mr. Thorvald?”
“Why not? You were ogling me when I was on my way in here.”
“I’m not ashamed.”
He pulled her into his arms. “Neither am I.”
They went together into the heat of the shower, the steam rising around them when he closed the shower door. He tipped his head back to wet his hair, then stepped aside so that she could wet down, too. They stood facing each other, the water running down their skin like searching fingers, warm and soothing.
He took her mouth in a deep kiss, his arms around her. She stepped into his embrace, her breasts pressing against the hard planes of his chest. He dropped one hand to cup the roundness of her buttocks, squeezing gently. She sighed into his mouth, and he moved his kiss to her cheek, then to the corner of her jaw.
Nika tightened her arms around his neck, and he slid both hands down to grab her, pulling her closer to him. She could feel the heated rod of his desire caught between their bellies, throbbing against her, almost as if it was pleading with her to let it in. She swayed, rubbing her body against it, pulling a low moan from his throat.
Nika pressed her lips to Erik’s neck, feeling the power of his heartbeat just below the surface. She licked the smooth skin above his vein, savoring the feeling of his pulse against her tongue. He moved one of his hands farther down, his fingertip just brushing against the engorging lips of her sex. She shivered and pulled him closer, wrapping one leg around his, her heel rubbing against the rock-hard muscle of his calf.
He turned her so that her back was against the shower wall, and he pressed her against it. His hands supported her seat and brought her up into position, and she happily allowed it. In truth, he was so strong and in such control that she could not have prevented it, but the thought of resisting him never crossed her mind. He was all she wanted.
She stroked his pulse point with her tongue again, and he breathed, “Do it.”
She felt the green Draugr lights ignite in her eyes, and her long teeth descended hungrily. He rubbed himself against her, the weeping head just skimming along her slit, and she needed more. She pushed her fangs into his vein.
He shuddered in pure pleasure at the onset of her feeding and arched against her, sliding home. He reached deep inside her, and as he began to move, she moaned against his neck. She sucked the blood to the surface and into her mouth, wet passes of her tongue mimicking the rhythm he was setting farther down. Erik held her up and rocked into her, impaling her along his thick length again and again. She clutched at his shoulders and urged him to go faster.
He complied, setting a fast pace that neither of them would be able to sustain for very long. She reached her climax first, pulling her mouth away from his neck to cry out, leaving the blood to run in two tiny rivulets down his body. She quaked, tightening around him like a fist, making him groan out her name in a voice thick with passion. She was still clenching in her orgasm when she felt him spill inside of her, his breath catching in his throat.
The wound in his neck had closed of its own volition, but she licked it anyway, lapping up the traces of blood that remained. It made her shudder and very nearly made her come again. The feeling of his hard heat still sliding back and forth inside of her completed the inspiration and she tumbled over the edge for the second time.
He held her tightly as they both regained their senses, their bodies shaking,
their hearts full of each other and the love they shared. He kissed her, his tongue gentle against hers as he claimed her mouth. Gently, slowly, he lowered her down to her feet.
She kissed him, her hands running down his sculpted abdomen, memorizing every hill and valley with her fingertips. He ran his hands through her wet hair. When he cupped her head in his palms, she broke the kiss to look up into his eyes.
“I love you, Erik,” she breathed.
His answer was in the form of a kiss. Sometimes he expressed himself best when he used no words at all.
***
They finished washing up, dried off, and adjourned to the bedroom for another round of lovemaking before they decided to finally go to Piteå. They got clean and bundled up against the wind and rain and headed hand-in-hand to the boat house to begin the trek.
Lars’ boat, a 50-foot Princess V48 yacht, almost identical to the boat Erik and Nika owned, was anchored in the open slip of the boathouse, and he had politely waited for them to come out of the house instead of charging up and disturbing them. When they entered the building, he stood up from the stool he’d been sitting on, a paperback novel in his hand. He smiled broadly. When he looked happy this way, Nika thought he was nearly as handsome as Erik.
Nearly.
“Well, good morning, lovebirds,” he greeted. “Did we get enough sleep?”
“How long have you been sitting out here?” Erik asked him. “Nothing better to do with your time?”
“You might ask Nika what I’m doing here,” Lars said. He turned to her. “Everything’s loaded.”
Erik looked from his lover to his friend and narrowed his eyes. “I haven’t lived this long without being able to tell when someone’s plotting against me,” he warned.
“This is the very nicest of plots, I promise,” Nika told him. She kissed him. “Get on the boat, Huntsman.”
Rune Master Page 19
