The Valkyrie and the Marine
Page 1
Table of Contents
The Valkyrie and the Marine
Copyright
Praise for jj Keller
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
A word about the author...
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
The Valkyrie and the Marine
by
jj Keller
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
The Valkyrie and the Marine
COPYRIGHT © 2012 by jj Keller
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com
Cover Art by Kim Mendoza
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Faery Rose Edition, 2012
Digital ISBN 978-1-61217-344-3
Published in the United States of America
Praise for jj Keller
TRADE AGREEMENT
Ranked Best of the Best
at Long and Short of It Reviews
“Ms. Keller throws you right into the heart of her plot then keeps our attention riveted while we hold our breath to find out what happens next...She is a first-class storyteller with a unique way of telling it.”
~Larkspur, Long and Short Reviews
“I felt for Georgina for here is a woman who will do anything to find freedom including running away.”
~Melinda, Night Owl Reviews
~*~
THE TAROT CARD
Ranked Fantastic, Stays on the Shelf
by Between the Lines
“I have enjoyed every book I have read by jj Keller and this one lives up to that reputation. This is a wonderful, lighthearted, and fun quick read to start your day off well or to finish your day feeling good!”
~Steph B., The Romance Studio
“It left me with a smile on my face and a real sense of satisfaction. I'd say this is definitely a story I'd like to share with my friends—well worth a read. Enjoy!”
~Vasiliki Scurfield, WRDF Reviews
Dedication
This book is dedicated to
Kim Adams, who inspired the idea;
Zrinka Jelic for her friendship and critique;
and to Marines everywhere.
Chapter 1
A tap to her horse’s neck and he circled the area where Kiara’s chosen warrior lay bleeding onto the hard earth. The challenge of a mission created a hum inside her, a surge of adrenaline which couldn’t be replicated. Closer to the battlefield, the thrum became a rush urging her forward. Power flashed, vibrating her nerve endings. Just below the thick condensation, he wavered between life and death. Neither gray clouds nor her fast beating heart would change the outcome of the skirmish.
Knees touching her well-trained war stallion’s sides, Kiara tugged on the soft leather reins, stirring the pleasant scent—a mixture of hay and animal. She whispered into his pointed ear. “To the left, Bright. See him? Near to dying he is, and what a wondrous addition Captain Lombard will be to Odin’s army.”
The snow-white horse tilted his regal head and took a sharp turn past a copse of barren apple trees. The ground beneath the animal’s belly grew closer. With one powerful swoop, Bright’s hooves touched brown dead grass without jostling Kiara. Her mount acknowledged her gentle pats to his strong glistening neck with a head nod. She slid off the saddle, dreading the encounter. Never in her three short centuries of being a proud member of the Valkyrie squad had she hesitated to invite a battle-scared soldier to become an Einherjar. Her stomach tightened. Her self-induced mantra rattled through her mind again, Don’t touch this warrior’s skin.
A loud exhale escaped her as she tossed the reins over the saddle. Never before had she dreamed of kissing a fallen soldier. Never had she wanted something more from her chosen Einherjar than acceptance to join Odin’s army. To offer a pleasing passing from the human world to hers was her duty and joy. Today, however, her stomach twitched in an odd way.
She dreaded this singular moment as much as she anticipated the engagement. The thump of her heartbeat reverberated in her throat. Her golden shield reflected an uncertain, scared maiden, not a beautiful and bold Valkyrie. She flipped the metal the other way and forced the discouraging image away. Kiara closed her eyes. Would the years of her hard training prove efficient enough to enable her to look past the prophecy and allow her to simply do her job—offer the dying Marine safe passage to Valhalla?
Shouts in the background indicated her sisters, having gathered their chosen Einherjars, were preparing to leave. She must start. Kiara opened her eyes, straightened her back and secured her shield to the saddle; it wouldn’t be needed today. She tapped Bright’s flank and pivoted. No amount of gleaming hope would convince her to alter her course. Harrison Lombard would die on the battlefield and his soul would go with her.
Kiara swiped the sweat from her forehead, jostling her helmet in the process. A Phoenix feather stuck to her fingers. The magical feathers had been used more than once in battle if one of her sisters was struck from behind by their enemy. Her throat closed at the memory of one of her Valkyrie sisters being taken by the evil underworld lord. She wouldn’t think of that horrible day, instead she concentrated on offering Harrison Lombard the ability to fight in an eternal battle.
She flicked the fluff and strode toward her Einherjar a couple of feet away. Even before she approached him, the unexplainable urge to kiss him overwhelmed her. Make the offer and don’t touch his lips or ear, or his broken forehead!
She could not allow the strange pull to him affect her goal.
Stark tree branches clicked as the wind blew another gust. He lay on the frozen ground, exactly as she’d pictured him. His rounded helmet had fallen to the side, fully exposing his head and face. Crimson blood seeped into his potato-blond hair. Piercing midnight-blue eyes defied what was unavoidable. His precarious balance between life and death didn’t deter him from attempting to lift the weapon in his hand. At any moment his comrades would arrive. She must be quick.
Regardless of how many centuries had passed, her chosen champions continued to remain the same. The individual relentlessly fought for his country, democracy or individual beliefs, right up to his last dying breath. Most of the time, the fallen soldier was willing to continue to fight after death for another leader, a supernatural force. This man, lying by her feet, was one of those who would willingly continue to battle an enemy for a higher purpose. He would trade his soul to become an immortal. Or so she hoped…
She knelt, within inches of his face. Chill from the cold ground snaked around her legs until meeting her skirt riding high on her thighs. Reflected in his wide eyes, she saw her helmet had twisted a little to the right, with one horn in sharper focus than the other; beyond that she noticed wariness. Get it done. She’d pondered longer than any Valkyrie on which soldier to
honor with the choice to attend Odin, until she finally decided on the one who had entered her dreams each night of deliberation. Her images of him had been filled with laughter, stimulating sex and something, a connection she couldn’t define. A Valkyrie did not let some romantic illusion prevent her from fulfilling an obligation. Her job was to serve Odin and lust or love wouldn’t obstruct her goal. Love? The ivory carved handle of her spear dug into her tight fist. Where had that illogical thought come from?
Leaning close to her man she whispered, “War is hell, but you fought with valor and should rejoice. Your tribe of Silent Warriors has been defeated. There’s no choice. Either desecrate the ground you’ve fallen on, in misery, or travel to Valhalla and prepare to fight the most heroic battle of all. Fight for the finest leader in any world.”
Weapon in hand, his fingers relaxed and the pistol fell to solid earth. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, good always wins over evil.” His breaths were sharp, shallow, and frequent. He licked his dry chapped lips and blinked. “Beautiful death collector. Blonde curls like silken strands of…fuck, I don’t know what I’m doing. Who—”
“Kiara.”
A strong current of wind made her long hair dance across the shoulder strap of her byrnie, the sleeveless tunic that hit her waist. The chained mesh slid across his smokescreen of a coat and jingled like glass bubbles on a wind chime. His twenty-second century armor fascinated her. She’d never seen anything of the sort. Had it been designed to help him blend into the surroundings? The green and brown blouse would allow him to merge with the trees and ground. How could a simple cloth uniform protect him from knives or guns? His hand, holding strong to his camouflage jacket, jerked.
Blood-encrusted fingers slowly unwound from their grip and took hold of her wayward strand of hair. Kiara lifted her spear, attempting to release the tress. Although no harm would come to a Valkyrie from touching the humans, she’d heard a tale of a sister who’d become cemented to a human as a result of his twining her mane in his hand. She could not let that happen.
Deciding who would win a fight, making the offer to the hero and escorting the grand fallen to Valhalla ignited savage elation inside her, provided her with power. Her destiny evolved around making Odin’s army stronger. Earthbound wasn’t for her. Yet the human drew her…she looked into his pain-filled eyes. The blue, matching the night sky, had starburst of a darker hue shooting toward the perimeter of the irises. She delved into his mind, acknowledging that even during death he recognized a connection between them. Man and woman.
Her heartbeat pulsed, keeping in time with his quick eye movement. Short sharp breaths expelled between her quivering lips. Damn, she shouldn’t have seen him as a man instead of a warrior. Only seconds passed, yet their souls metaphysically bonded as she’d feared they would. Now, though, she had no choice but to bring him to her God. Could she? Make a decision.
Her handsome Silent Warrior had a set of high cheekbones and perfect-shaped lips, the top forming a wide peak and the bottom rounded. Despite his near-death state, dimples formed on the sides of his grayish-blue lips, exhibiting his attractiveness and making her insides dance in a funny way. His forehead furrowed in thought, creasing the wound and making a fresh rush of blood seep.
Goose bumps formed on her bare arms. Acceptance of his fate, the glow igniting his dark night eyes faded before he closed them. A wish or longing for something which couldn’t be, a kiss with a solider, forbidden love with a human. She had to ignore the desire to save him and whatever she did… she could not kiss him.
Her hair was entwined in his hand. He dragged the strands under his elongated royal nose. “Smells like a sweet. Caramel.”
Bright snorted. She glanced at him. His snout opened and closed with each breath as if he’d run a race. He pawed the ground. Gold and maroon shimmered in casted shadows as Kiara’s shield flapped against the equine’s side. Sounds of rapid fire and men shouting, signs of death taking its instant toll, became the background symphony. Although not heard by the humans, the shrill whinny of twelve horses urging their masters to ride in the sky sounded loud to her. The battle horn announcing the start of their quest an hour ago would soon declare a triumphed victory. Kiara had to finish what was expected of her.
Just do your duty!
Another soldier, equal in size albeit younger than the one she’d chosen, fell beside her. She stared at him; he met her criteria. Odin wouldn’t notice the difference. It was all the same to him as long as she brought one fallen solider to fill the place in his soulless army. Mentally she reviewed the first rule: only the best would be chosen for Odin’s army. She asked the youngster if he wanted to pursue battle in another time, on another plane. Affirmation was followed by blood gurgling from his mouth.
She experienced a shifting of the firm muscle under her. Why was she dragging her spear? Near the end of the battle, she could secure her Einherjar and join the others. Kiara looked deep into her chosen one’s soul, witnessing a live version of her three-night running vision. She had to shake off her atypical sympathy. But the twinges in her heart and the heat between her thighs couldn’t be ignored.
Harrison’s lips were dry. His gaze held desire, a shared equal attraction. A smile from him would be her undoing. Three steps, Kiara. Offer him immortality, toss him on Bright, and take to the skies.
Göndul would be seeking her, needing to have all twelve Valkyries traveling as a group to Valhalla with the new additions to Odin’s army in tow. Spear in hand, Kiara flicked her hair from under her warrior’s hand and straddled his lap. Lance in both hands, she pushed the rod against his wide shoulder span. “Just to verify, what is your name?”
His muscles tensed under her, pressing into her knuckles. Despite his closeness to death Kiara felt a rise bumping, titillating, and making her yearn for a tryst. No human had ever had such an impact on her. Why now? Ignoring the rush of emotions plaguing her body and mind, she strengthened her reserve and focused on the task. Her future with the squad depended on it. She wanted to become a captain. No tingling in her woman parts would change her course.
“Harrison Valentine Lombard.” His hips lifted, a hard long slice fit nicely between her thighs. “I can’t imagine my last thoughts to be of a siren teasing me, without allowing me to have release. Either kill me, or liberate me so I can fuc—”
“Kiara, it’s time. Grab your Einherjar and let’s ride,” Skogul bellowed.
Kiara glanced behind her to see a man strapped to her friend’s back. Skogul’s pitch-black horse, Bella, pranced in the air, ready to soar. A last burst of energy flowed from the soldier beneath Kiara. His hand stroked her breast, sliding between the skin and the gold corset. He lifted his head from the ground, causing blood to squirt from the wound. Twitches, low in her stomach, created jittering in muscles higher in her womb. More than pleasing Odin, she wanted to fornicate with this brave, yet stupid man, her Valentine.
“Kiara.” His alluring whisper sailed on the wind.
Her heart caught in her throat. Don’t kiss him.
“Kiara, let’s ride.” Skogul’s demand colored the charm of Harrison’s beseeching.
“Only the best Einherjar,” Kiara yelled. Straightening her helmet, she plucked a feather. Gravity took hold and the healing plume fluttered toward its goal, landing on Harrison’s wound. Jumping to a stand, she transported the younger soldier and secured him onto the horn of Bright’s saddle. She climbed behind him and roared, “To Valhalla, Skogul.”
Skogul’s light brown eyebrows arched. She winked, and their horses took to the sky.
Chapter 2
“Harry.” Basil’s insistent bellow shocked Harrison. “Harry?”
A nudge to his shoulder brought him fully alert. “Where am I?”
“VA hospital in North Carolina.”
Christ, the last he knew he was in Korea. “What time is it?”
A bug must have landed on his head because it itched and Harrison wanted the aggravation gone. His arms felt like dead we
ights. Maybe because heavy blankets heated him to inferno level. Some dreadful stench surrounded him. Penicillin. Soured milk and something else medicinal. The first attempt to breathe through his mouth sent his dry throat into a coughing fit, causing his head to throb.
A long sigh came from Basil followed by his worry lines relaxing. “Midnight, January 13.”
Harrison licked his parched lips, not getting any relief from the dryness. “January?”
“Yep.”
“Could you raise the bed?”
The firm hospital mattress beneath his head lifted, allowing him to see beyond his friend’s face. Dim lights illuminated each bed in the infirmary, half of which were occupied by moaning men. So his guardian angel hadn’t taken him for a ride after all. He’d lived through the recon. Almost a month had passed. Behind his eyes, a staccato pounded.
“I was unconscious the entire time?” His throat was so dry, the words sounded like sandpaper across wood.
“Yes.” Basil picked up the water glass and plopped a straw inside. “I had to eat the Christmas goodies your mom sent. Didn’t want them to go to waste.”
“Figures.” Harrison bent his head to take a sip from the straw. His arms continued to betray him, lying limp at his side. After inhaling a good deal of the water, his head hit the pillow again. The liquid soothed his throat, but the constant strikes inside his noggin made him dizzy. His buddy put the glass on a bedside table. A white sling kept Basil’s other arm close to his chest.
Harrison tried to raise his hand, to get the annoying pest from his skull. All he succeeded in doing was twitching his middle finger. “Basil, could you get the bug off my forehead? It’s driving me nuts.”
Basil’s deep-set brown eyes narrowed. “Not a bug, man. You took a shot in the head. Granted you have a hard head and the wound has healed nicely, but there is a scar of sorts. I’m sure the nurse can put some medicine on the crack to stop the itch.” He glanced around the bed, jogged to the other side and took hold of the stainless steel carafe. From the sloshing sound coming from the container, it still had a fair amount of water. “Here, can you see in the reflection?”