Rune Master
Page 20
He looked from Nika to Lars, then back again. There were suitcases on the boat that he hadn’t seen her pack. Nika grinned at him, delighted to have caught him off guard. “Fine,” Erik relented. “But I’m prepared to defend myself if you try to take my honor.”
Lars laughed. “What honor? Get in the damn boat.”
Erik climbed on board and gave Nika a hand in, then Lars untied the vessel and climbed aboard. He got behind the wheel and piloted expertly out into the bay.
“There’s some paperwork in the cabin you might want to look at,” he told Erik.
Erik went into the cabin and found a manila envelope, marked with the emblem of the SOG, the Swedish Special Forces to which he and Lars had once belonged. Nika sat at the table while he opened the envelope and pulled out an official-looking letter signed by Supreme Commander of the Swedish Armed Forces, General Torsten Jung.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s an apology for letting Holm and his Red Hand buddies fill me full of silver shot.”
She frowned, unimpressed. “Nice of him.”
“Keep reading,” Lars coached.
He complied. “He’s also inviting me and Lars back into the SOG as the new core of the Huntsman unit.” He glanced up at his friend, who had turned around to watch him from the wheel. “What do you think of this?”
Lars grinned. “I think he can shove that invitation up his ass. We’ll get more done to protect people from rogue Draugr if we work on our own terms.”
Erik nodded. “I agree.” He put the letter back into the envelope. “At least they’re not going to hunt us anymore...unless that gets reinstated when we tell them no.”
“That’s not the Swedish way, is it?” she asked.
“Neither is shooting at their own operatives from helicopters, but they certainly did that,” Erik shrugged. “I’ll consider it.”
“We should go out on our own. Hire some SOG retirees, maybe some mercenaries with Special Ops backgrounds. We’d have to fill them in, of course,” Lars mused. “Maybe even turn them. Think you could get into that idea?”
He sat beside Nika and put his arm around her. She leaned into him with a smile. “I’m not interested in starting my own army.”
Nika asked puckishly, “What about your own raiding party?”
He groaned. “I’m really not interested in that.” He looked out the window. “We’re not bearing toward the inlet.”
Lars shook his head. “Nope.”
“We aren’t going to Piteå?”
“Nope.”
He looked at Nika. “What are you up to?”
“You’ll see,” she said. “We’re heading to Finland. Our passports are packed in the bags.”
“Finland?” Erik echoed, surprised. “Why?”
“It's called a vacation, numbskull,” Lars said. “Sif let me know that a certain VERY old man has a birthday this week, and we’re going to celebrate.”
He laughed. “I don’t know when my birthday is. It’s not like we kept track back in the day, and the calendar has changed so many times since then…”
“Sif said it was right about this time, and I trust her.” He turned back to the wheel. “Anyway, she’ll be meeting us in Oulu.”
“Magda can’t have agreed to that,” Erik said.
“Magda can kiss my ass.”
Nika chuckled. “Sif and Lars are a couple now. Magda isn’t happy, but, well… she doesn’t own Sif, now, does she?”
Erik snorted softly. “Someone needs to tell Magda that.”
Lars looked sheepish. “Actually… Magda is coming, too. We’re… well, the three of us are…” Erik laughed, and Lars defended, “Hey, she was angry about being left out, so we included her. Nothing wrong with that!”
“If you say so. I’d rather sleep with a snake than with Magda,” Erik said. “Actually, it probably wouldn’t be too different. She’s just as cold-blooded as a snake, and just as likely to bite.”
“She’s immortal, not a vampire, and she doesn’t do the biting in this relationship.” He flashed his Draugr fangs, and they all laughed.
Nika reached into her purse and pulled out a brochure. “We’re going to be staying at the Hotel Iso-Syöte, in one of their rental cabins. It’s got three bedrooms, so Sif and Lars and Magda can mix and match however they want while we have our own place to sleep. It’s got a beautiful view of a national forest, its own sauna, and it’s away from the body of the hotel. Very nice. We’ve got it for a month.”
“There are other cottages nearby, but if we keep the screaming to a minimum, it shouldn’t be a problem,” Lars teased.
He flipped through the brochure. “I’ve heard of this place. Very romantic.”
She leaned her chin on his shoulder. “That’s what I’m counting on.” She smiled. “Happy birthday, my love.”
He kissed her. “You’re crazy, but I appreciate the gesture.”
“So how many years do you have under your belt?” Lars asked.
Erik considered carefully. “One thousand one hundred and ninety-four, give or take.”
“So, you basically fart dust.”
He chuckled. “Basically.”
Nika smirked. “I love older men…”
Chapter Two
A courtesy driver picked them up at the customs station at the dock and drove them to the hotel, where they registered and picked up their keys. The same driver then delivered them to their cottage, which was on a hill overlooking a dense evergreen forest. He helped carry their bags inside.
Magda and Sif were sitting together on the couch when they arrived. Magda’s legs were drawn up onto the cushion beside her, and Sif was lying with her head in her lap. Magda had a glass of dreyri in one hand and was dropping the enchanted blood into Sif’s mouth from her fingertips, one drop at a time. She put the glass aside when the mortal driver entered the room.
Lars walked to the two women and kissed them both soundly. Erik grinned at Nika and waggled his eyebrows, and she laughed, smacking him in the arm. Since the episode with the G8 summit, she had seen more of his relaxed, casual side, and she’d learned that he was actually blessed with a lively sense of humor. She enjoyed the moments when he let it show.
“Happy birthday, Huntsman,” Magda said.
“Thank you.” He sat in an armchair, and he pulled Nika onto his lap. She went happily. “I have to say, it’s strange to see you outside of Stockholm. When was the last time you left?”
“1823,” she replied. “I went to England.”
Lars sat beside Magda, lifting Sif’s legs so that he could slide beneath them. “Then it’s high time you got away from that bar. All work and no play…”
Sif put a hand over his mouth with a twinkle in her eye. “Hush. You talk too much.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a howl in the forest below. Sif said, “Strange to hear a wolf in daylight.”
Magda’s eyes softened for a moment as she focused her mind inward. She said softly, “That was no wolf. That was one of the Ulfen.”
Nika asked, “Ulfen?”
“Werewolves.”
“Are they common in Finland?”
Erik shrugged. “They’re scattered all around the world, like vampires. They began here, like us, but they’ve expanded their territory.”
Lars frowned. “If I’d known this was werewolf territory, I’d have picked a different hotel.”
Magda waved her hand dismissively. “No Ulfen will attack a house with four Draugr and a vala. It would be suicide.” She stroked Sif’s hair. “Besides, we have one of the First with us, and four vessels. They’d never stand a chance.”
“Do you think they know that?” Lars asked.
Nika asked a more pertinent question, to her way of thinking. “Do you think they care?”
Erik chuckled and put his arms around her. “We’ll find out.”
“Are we in danger?” she asked, worried.
He shook his head. “No. Magda is right. They wouldn’t dream of
attacking us here, not all of us together.”
Sif said, “But you shouldn’t go wandering in the woods alone.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Smart girl.”
Erik smiled at her. “Would you like to take a tour of our new digs? See where everything is?”
She nodded. “Sure.”
Magda spoke up. “We picked the second bedroom, so stay out of it.”
Nika left Erik’s lap and held out her hand to him. He stood up and took her hand, then told Magda, “Don’t worry. I won’t invade your inner sanctum.”
They left the room together to explore.
In the kitchen, they found a large keg of old-vintage dreyri, and Erik patted it appreciatively. “Magda,” he said with grudging admiration. “Nothing but the best.”
Nika went to the window and looked out. There were other cottages on the hill, but none were really in her line of sight. It made the building feel private and secluded, as if it was just the five of them and no part of the world existed beyond the walls.
Erik wrapped his arms around her from behind and pressed against her back, his cheek against the side of her head. “Thank you for tricking me.”
She chuckled. “You’re welcome. I thought it would be a nice thing to have some time with friends, and to celebrate you for a while.”
He kissed her ear. “You’re very considerate.”
“I try.”
She loved the feeling of standing with him this way, his body against hers, the two of them fitting together as if they’d been born to do nothing else. She put her hands on his, holding them against her stomach. She was happy.
They stood that way for a long while, wrapped up in each other. Finally, Erik pulled away, leaving her with a kiss on the cheek.
“I’ll get the bags and put them in a room.”
“Not the second one,” she reminded.
“Oh, no. Never.”
***
He went back into the main room and collected their bags. They were heavier than he would have expected, and he found himself wondering what Nika had packed. She came out of the kitchen and followed him up the stairs. On the couch, the threesome were absorbed in each other and paid no attention to their passage. He wondered if they would even make it to a bed.
Erik took them to the farthest bedroom from the stairs, one with a window that looked out over the forested valley below. The view was breathtaking, and Nika stood in front of it, shaking her head in wonder.
“I had no idea that Finland was so beautiful.”
“All of Scandinavia is like heaven,” he said proudly. “We’re very lucky to live here.”
Another howl rose from the wood, and Erik frowned. “That was closer.”
“Why do they howl?”
“They usually do it to gather their pack, or to let their packs know where they are. I’m only hearing one wolf, though, so it seems there’s no pack nearby. If there were, they’d be answering.”
She sat on the bed. “I guess I should feel reassured that he’s alone.”
“I do.” He smiled at her and sat beside her on the bed. “Don’t worry about them. Really. I’ll keep you safe.”
She leaned over and kissed him. “I know.”
Another howl went up from the lonely Ulfen in the forest, and this time another howl sounded in the distance, followed by a third. Nika frowned. “Now there’s three of them.”
“And five of us.” He ran a hand through her hair. “Relax.”
“I packed your guns and your silver ammo.”
“I’m glad.” He smiled. “That would certainly explain why the bags are so heavy.”
She rose and went to her own suitcase. She put it onto the mattress, something that was easier with her new Draugr strength, and unzipped it. With a smile, she pulled out the Book of Odin and dropped it on the bed.
“Brought some light reading, I see,” Erik teased.
She opened the book, and the runes on the cover danced in response to her touch. She turned a few pages and looked up. “I’m wondering if Odin has anything to say about Ulfen.”
“I’d be curious to know…”
Erik stretched out on the bed and relaxed while Nika flipped through the ancient pages. She found many things that distracted her, rune magic that she had not yet learned and secrets that were still hidden from her view. Some pages sorted themselves immediately into a form she could read, and some maintained a densely-packed runic jumble that might as well have been computerized encryption for all the sense she could make of it.
She went all the way to the backboard of the ancient tome, then shook her head. She looked up at Erik with a sigh.
“Nothing?” he asked gently.
“Nothing.”
She put the book aside and laid down on the bed next to him, her head on his chest. He put his arm around her. It was familiar, habitual, and comfortable.
“Well, that’s a book on magic, and Odin probably wouldn’t have included the Ulfen in it, anyway. They’re not magical. They just…are.”
“Are they faery?”
He considered. “No, not really, although they serve them.”
“Serve them how?”
“Some faery are pretty formidable, but the majority of them are easily killed or injured, especially with cold iron. The Ulfen are their bodyguards, I guess you’d say, and their army when they’re on the march.”
“Are the faery on the march?”
“No, not that I know of.” He shook his head. “The Ulfen wander. They roam all through Europe and probably beyond. This call and answer thing, that’s just them getting the band back together.” He kissed her, then smiled. “Don’t worry so much. You have nothing to fear.”
She wasn’t so certain, despite his repeated assurance, but she held her peace. She stroked his stomach through the fabric of his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his impossibly strong muscles. “If you say so.”
“I do say so, and I’m right.”
She chuckled. “That would be arrogant coming from anyone else.”
He laughed softly. “No. It’s still arrogant.”
“Self-awareness is half of the battle.”
From the outside of the house, a man’s voice shouted, “Draugr!”
Erik leaped to his feet, dislodging Nika, who did not complain. He went to the window and looked down at the yard below. She followed him, peering out into the gathering darkness and falling rain.
A man stood there, naked to the waist, his magnificent body glistening with fallen water droplets. He had black hair, thick and wavy, that hung halfway down his back. His eyes glowed amber, and his massive fists curled at his sides.
“Draugr!” he shouted again.
From downstairs, Lars’s voice responded. “Keep your shirt on – oh, too late.”
Sif giggled.
Erik turned from the window and collected his pistol, checking to be sure that it was loaded with a full clip of silver bullets. Nika asked, “Ulfen?”
“Yes.” He snapped the clip back into place. “Stay here.”
“Hell, no. I’m coming with you.”
He trotted down the stairs, not taking the time to argue. Nika was at his heels with the Book of Odin in her hand. Lars stood beside the door, his SOG training showing, his own pistol in his hand. He looked up at Erik as he appeared in the living room. Erik went to stand against the other side of the door. Sif pulled her own weapon and rose to stand in front of Magda, pulling the Valtaeigr vala under guard.
Nika came into the room. Sif pushed her onto the couch, making her sit beside Magda. The vala draped her long legs over Nika’s, holding her in place.
“Stay here,” Sif told her. “Let them handle this.”
Nika wanted to protest, but a quick shake of the head from Erik quieted her. He looked to Lars, who opened the door. Erik stepped out, pistol first, with Lars right behind him.
***
Erik stepped off of the porch and took two strides toward the Ulfen male, th
e pistol trained on the creature’s face. The shifter stared back, unmoved. Lars took up position on the porch, his own gun ready.
“What do you want?” Erik asked, speaking in Old Norse.
“Are you the leader of these Draugr?”
He claimed it, by virtue of age and power. “I am.”
“Then I came to speak to you.”
He nodded. “Then speak.”
“The faery have declared war upon the Draugr, starting with the Rune Master and the last Huntsman.”
He lifted his chin, and two more Ulfen emerged from the forest. These two were in their wolf forms, as large as ponies and snarling, their lips curled back from teeth that they licked in anticipation of biting. Their black fur bristled, their hackles raised. They were spoiling for a fight.
Lars demanded, “Why?”
“You Draugr have raided Trollheim and attacked the Mara and the Huldra for your perverse use. You have slain the king of the Nøkken. You have burned and murdered and defiled faery people.”
Erik shook his head. “I killed the Nøkken, but I deny the rest.”
The Ulfen was unimpressed. “Take our message to your king. War has come, and the Ulfen fight on the side of faery. This is your only warning. From this moment on, it is a fight to the death.”
“We have no king,” Erik protested.
“Then take the message to yourself, for the fight will start with you.” He unballed his fists, and then his body moved, flowing like water as it changed from human to wolf in less than a heartbeat. He put his head back and howled, and in the forest, a dozen answering calls replied. The Huntsmen stood their ground, and then the Ulfen turned and raced back into the woods from which they had come.
Erik backed up to the porch, not lowering his gun, and climbed up the steps until he and Lars stood shoulder to shoulder. Lars looked at him.
“Well,” he said softly. “This should be fun.”
Erik chuckled wryly. “There goes the neighborhood.”
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About The Author
Amelia Wilson has dedicated her life to writing. She is a firm believer in the power of love to conquer all, and her works reflect this belief. Her paranormal romances are known for their love stories, action and suspense. She creates immersive worlds that are rich in detail and full of emotion.