Thunder Hunter: Viking Soul Book 1 (Viking Soul Series)

by Rachel Medhurst

  “Get off me!” she huffed, trying to worm out of my grasp.

  It didn’t work. She might have more direct magic than me, but I had much more strength. If she wanted to hurt me, she would have to try a lot harder.

  “Let’s do this,” I announced.

  Springing to my feet, I took a step back, my arms held in front of me. Chloe surged up, running at me full pelt. She had some anger to burn. And, I didn’t mind being her punch bag. Not if it meant she got better at punching.

  “You really pissed me off.” It was good to see the aggression come out in her.

  She claimed that she wanted to use her emotion as a strength, well, anger was a good one to channel. Not that I would tell her that, it was something she needed to find out herself.

  When she made contact, ploughing straight into me, I held tight, my feet running back with the momentum. Instead of trying to hit me, Chloe hooked her leg around my knee and pushed me forcefully.

  I went down, rolling my back on the floor, lifting my legs into her stomach and taking her with me. Flipping her over, I pinned her to the ground. She grunted, squeezed my buttock hard and kneed me right where no man should ever be kneed.

  She had just won the game. Slumping on top of her, she moaned when my weight crushed her. It was the least I could do considering the foul move she had just pulled. She shoved me off as I grabbed my nether region and curled up into a ball. I never expected that hit.

  “Serves you right,” she said.

  Although she breathed hard, she got to her feet and ran out of the room. Probably making sure she was well out of the way before I regained composure. My teeth ground together as pain radiated through my groin area. I had forgotten how it felt to injure my most delicate parts.

  A memory flashed into my mind of my brothers. When we were young in Scandinavia, we played a game. Six boys stood around with the smallest one in the middle. All boys had two minutes to find the best shield for their privates. When time was up, the little boy went around the circle, kicking the others right in the knackers. It was a painful, stupid game. Ah, how Vikings had to prove their manly worth.

  The memory made my heart ache for something I hadn’t allowed myself to think of for so long. My memories were my weakness. The only thing that could harm me.

  Rusty’s claws clipped across the wooden floor towards me, breaking my thought pattern. A small lick on my face made me open my eyes and look at him. My body went still as our gaze locked.

  Bloody dog. “Stop, Rusty!”

  He instantly began to wag and broke eye contact. Could I control him that easily? Would he work with me? I relaxed against the floor as the pain slowly started to subside. If that bitch had caused damage, I would… What would I do? To Freya’s descendant?

  “Rusty, your owner is a crazy bitch, but she does have a good bloody aim when it comes to her knee.”

  Getting to my feet, I tiptoed out of the room and through to the balcony. My new friend followed me, nudging me for a stroke when I leant over to see where Chloe was. Not downstairs. Stroking the dog’s ear unconsciously, I listened, hearing a small sob come from my office. Or, technically, Chloe’s room.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I muttered under my breath, really not wanting to deal with woman tears.

  Hobbling forward, I opened the door to her room. There was no way she would politely invite me in, so I had to take the initiative. Even if I did just want to escape downstairs to make tea…or nurse my poorly bits in the bath.

  “Chloe?”

  “Go away,” she choked, throwing a pillow when I stuck my head around the door.

  Ignoring her, I came in, pushing Rusty in front of me. The tall golden dog rushed to her when he heard that she was crying. Jumping on her bed, he buried himself against her side. She laughed when he licked her face, getting rid of the tears.

  “Seriously, please leave me alone,” she said when she looked at me.

  I had never backed down on much in my life, and I wouldn’t start now. So, I might have acted like a dick by leaving her to fend for herself, but she had to learn.

  “No.”

  Moving to the office chair, I sat down, careful to not knock my bruised self in any way. Chloe wiped her face on the bedcover and faced away from me, towards the wall.

  “That was the first time I have ever killed anyone.”

  Her confession made me rub a hand over my face, my fingers catching the stubble on my chin. When I thought about her using her emotions, crying wasn’t what I had in mind.

  “How have you lived two hundred and twenty years without killing anyone?”

  “I never needed to. Loki’s family were perfectly capable of doing all the killing. Besides, they shunned me, only wanting me for my tracking skills.”

  I could understand why they didn’t use her for fighting, she didn’t exactly have a natural talent for it.

  “Tell me your story, Chloe, I want to know who you are.” I kept my voice neutral but firm.

  Shaking her head against the pillow, she stayed facing away from me. That was okay, I didn’t mind her hiding. But, I would know what had happened to her in the time she had been with my enemies.

  “Tell me your story.”

  The demand made her sob again. I held back my impatience as I settled into the ergonomic chair, ready to listen. Rusty still laid beside Chloe, his solid bulk obviously a comfort to her. She stroked him rhythmically, her breathing becoming less frantic. If she fell asleep, I would throw water over her face.

  “You pulled a crazy stunt last night, the least you could do is tell-”

  “Okay!” she said forcefully as she spun onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. “Okay, I’ll tell you.”

  Cupping my tender area, I crossed my leg over my knee and waited for her to speak. I would praise her fighting skill later, but right now, I had to keep my mouth shut.

  “I was born in Sweden in 1796 to Freya’s last descendant, my father. My mother died in childbirth, but my father brought me up with no problem. My name was Agnes back then. I kept that name for most of my life, until I was swapped for Loki’s descendant. My father died when I was twenty years old. I was alone…completely alone.”

  The wobble of her voice alerted me to fresh tears. Biting my tongue, literally, I kept my opinion to myself.

  “Until Freya turned up, I lived in the mountains, away from civilisation. My father had made trips to local towns, but always left me at home. Freya told me that I had a very important job to do. She also said that I would live a long time, until I could complete my mission. At first, I wasn’t afraid. My father had told me that we were Freya’s bloodline, so I wasn’t surprised that she had visited me. Then… I went into society. That was a knock back.” She cringed into herself, patting Rusty when he sniffed her armpit.

  “So, that’s when Freya froze your aging?”

  She nodded, turning her head to look at me briefly. “She did the same to you, didn’t she?”

  Grunting, I put my fist to my mouth. “You could say that.”

  Although a small smile lit her lips, it quickly vanished as she turned to stare at the ceiling again. “I fumbled through life, making friends here and there. It took me a good twenty years just to get used to how civilisation worked. In fact, quite a few times I disappeared back into the mountains for a couple of years. Eventually, Freya came to me and gave me my magic.”

  Rusty put his head on Chloe’s arm, comforting her unease as she told her life story. It seemed the woman had been lonely in her young life. At least my family had lived until I would have been fifty. They accepted me as I was, always away from home, trying to avenge Thor. I should have stayed with them for those years. I never knew how much I would miss them when they were gone.

  “She gave me the name of a family who were working on finding Loki’s descendants. I went and lived with them, becoming their first tracker. They trained me well, not bothering to use me for anything other than that. No chance of me learning to fight. After ten years, I m
oved to a different part of the company. That was the name I gave them. They worked for Freya, although they didn’t know that.”

  “Did you ever find the bastard’s spawn back then?” I spat, sitting up when her gaze shot to me.

  “Yes, several times. We wiped out families…so they couldn’t get to you.”

  The blood in my veins chilled. Leaning forward, I rested my chin on my folded hands. “Wait. That’s exactly what the people did to your…well…”

  “That’s what I was thinking. The company disbanded fifty years ago. There just wasn’t enough interest because…well, mythology isn’t taken quite as seriously anymore. Not with the internet and technology.”

  “You don’t think it’s an uprising from the same people?” I asked, chewing on the inside of my cheek.

  Chloe shook her head, slowly sitting up. “As far as I know, they all died of old age. But…I could check to see if any of the same tactics have been used. The rune wasn’t significant to them, though.”

  Nodding once, I stared at her. “Thank you for sharing your story. You literally tracked all those years?”

  “Yes, I got bored out of my brain. And, when they died off, I decided to live a normal human life until Freya made me go and live with Loki’s family. Can I use your computer?”

  Getting to her feet, she shooed me out of the way. The blood stain on her dress had dried, cracking slightly.

  “Don’t you want a shower?”

  She looked down at herself, a grimace crossing her face when her hand reached out and touched Frankie’s host’s life force. “Yes, then I’m going to research the group that killed-”

  “Before you do that, I need to ask you a favour.”

  Looking down at me, she raised her eyebrows. “A favour? Like I should do anything for you after what you did last night.”

  “What? Save your arse from all those people who were going to kill you? I think you should be thanking me after your careless murder.”

  I bit back a smile when she shrugged and turned to leave. “What can I say? My trainer is obviously not good enough.”

  Lunging from the chair, I grabbed her arm before she disappeared out of the room. “I’ll have you know that your trainer is one of the most sexiest, mysterious men in the world. However, he may have overestimated how ready you were.”

  Snarling at me, she knocked my hand off. I let her have her tantrum as she stormed away from me and towards the top of the stairs.

  “Chloe, when you’ve had your shower, I need you to track this woman.” Taking a piece of paper out of my pocket, I unfolded it and held it up for her to see.

  She paused, curiosity overtaking her indignant mood. Glancing over her shoulder, she stared. “I saw her last night. Did you…?”

  “Draw it? Yes, I did. Can you find her?”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she came closer, examining the picture. “Yes,” she breathed, tracing the outline of the face. “I can trace her. Leave it on the desk.”

  Spinning, she ran down the stairs, Rusty on her tail. Frowning to myself, I studied the face of the Fallen One. The evil spirits rarely took residence in a female body. The only reason was because of brawn. Most of them knew there would be a battle. However, times had changed since my last kill.

  The Fallen One had power and money…that was obvious. She had magic in the form of witches. And, she wouldn’t be afraid to use it. All I had to do was get the evil little bitch on her own.

  13

  One Step Closer

  “FUCK ME, MATE, what was that about the other night?”

  Jack pointed at the painting on the wall, momentarily distracted as we sat down at the table. It was three days after our little mishap at the party. It had been a jam packed few days of Chloe training and tracking. I had made targets for her in the magic room. She practiced hitting them for hours at a time. She was getting better, but she still had a long way to go.

  “It was…an experience, that’s what it was,” I replied, ordering a tea from the waitress.

  The woman’s teeth were bright white as she made eyes at me. Tracing the outline of my tattoo, her gaze moved over my muscles and down to my fingers. The minx probably had wicked thoughts about what I would do with my long, strong digits. I would usually be happy to oblige, but I had too much on my mind.

  “Do you want to join us?” Jack asked, patting the seat beside him.

  The woman laughed and waved away his suggestion, going back to the kitchen. The café was attached to an exclusive art gallery. Jack appreciated a dark painting or two.

  “Well?”

  “Well, what?” Jack asked, dragging his eyes away from the woman’s arse to look at me.

  Sitting back, I regarded him closely. My contact was usually brimming with information and excitement. Today, he was on edge. More than once he had checked over his shoulder.

  “Why have you invited me here to talk?”

  Running a hand over his fluffy hair, Jack tucked his sunglasses further back on his head. “Frankie’s wife…”

  “Wife?” I spat, lowering my voice when Jack eyeballed me. “I didn’t know the bastard was married.”

  “He was…and, she’s not a very happy bunny. Apparently, she knew exactly what Frankie was…and has ordered her men to find Chloe and repay the favour.” Leaning forward, Jack checked around before he carried on. “I’ve done a little digging into who she is and it turns out that she’s involved with the Hagalaz cult.”

  My hand automatically went to the gun in the waistband of my leather trousers. If Jack had done some digging and found out such vital information, he had probably ruffled some feathers or caused suspicion with his enquiries.

  “Don’t panic,” he said, pointing at my arm where it bent behind my back. “I’m…being careful because I may have slept with one of the Fallen One’s witches last night. And, stolen her phone.”

  How that man had not been killed amazed me. He either had a death wish or a strong belief that he was protected for some reason.

  “You’re not a wealth of information for no reason, are you, my man?” I relaxed, sitting against the seat as the waitress came back with our drinks.

  Jack’s smirk was aimed at me, but the waitress paid attention. Leaning low, she allowed her top to fall open and reveal her cleavage. “My boss wants to speak to you,” she whispered into Jack’s ear.

  Both of us turned to look towards where she had come. Neither of us had been expecting her to say that. Her boss was obviously someone who knew us.

  “Who is he?” Jack asked.

  There was no one obviously looking at us. The waitress pointed towards a painting on the wall. My eyes instantly zoomed in on the background. I had barely glanced at it as we made our way to the café, but now it had my full attention. A mash of runes were painted subtly behind the sullen beautiful face of an angel. Wait, that wasn’t an angel…it was the Fallen One from Frankie’s party.

  Jack got to his feet the same time as me. The waitress nodded at a man who stood staring at the painting. Her boss, apparently. Not even bothering to wait for Jack, I strode over to him. What did the mysterious man want?

  “Trygger, wait!” Jack grabbed my forearm as I went to tug my gun out.

  My magic was never my first choice of weapon. It wasn’t fair on humans to use magic to hurt them. That was something I had always maintained since my mother begged me not to hurt a village boy when he tried to steal my sword. She made me see that humans were defenceless and to use magic would be wrong.

  Releasing my gun, I slowed my step as I got nearer to the man. He was almost as tall as me, but his frame was skinny. The dark hair on his head was short and thick. Getting closer, I clocked the glasses and old acne scars.

  “Let me do the talking.” Jack thrusted himself in front of me. “Hello, there,” he greeted.

  The man turned to us, a smile lighting his face. “Well, I’m pleased you agreed to speak to me. I wasn’t sure if the famous Jack Newton would grace me with his presence.”


  “And, can I ask who you are, sir?” Jack didn’t bother to deny the outrageous claim to fame. He always did have a big head.

  “I’m Martin Sturgent. Owner of this art gallery.”

  Jack’s cheeks drained of colour. He glanced at me before offering his hand. “Well, I must say, I’m really honoured to meet you. I love this place. I come here all the time.”

  The man nodded as he shook his hand. Turning, he smiled as he studied me. “And, you, sir? I’m afraid I don’t recognise you.”

  His gaze went to the painting, his eyes tracing the long line of the woman’s jaw. Did he know that I wanted to find her? The way he stared at her before looking back at me told me more than any words ever could. He knew something. However, I had to work out if he worked for her, or wanted to help me.

  “My name is Trygger.” There was no point in lying.

  He bowed his head, his eyes dropping to the floor before raising up my body and landing on my arm. Reaching forward, he hovered his finger over my rune tattoo, quickly pulling back when I cleared my throat.

  “I’m sorry, I have a bit of a thing…for runes. And, Viking history.”

  “You do?”

  Jack stepped between us, putting his arm around the man’s shoulders as best he could, considering he was a fair bit shorter. “I wanted to ask you who painted this?” He pointed at the rune infested painting of the Fallen One.

  I was tempted to drag him out of the gallery. There was too much at stake in such an open space. I would never trust anyone who had a painting of my ultimate enemy on the wall. My senses hadn’t heated, so there were no Dark Crawlers or Fallen Ones around. Still, it was a risk to be so exposed.

  “This painting was done by my daughter. She was an amazing artist…”

  “Was…?” I breathed, my gut tightening.

  Martin looked at me, his eyes becoming hooded as emotion overtook him. He had lost his daughter. And, by the looks of it, the Fallen One had something to do with it. Jack glanced at me, his shoulders straightening as the same realisation hit him.