by J. J. Keller
Kiara assumed after having sex with Harrison her exile would end. It hadn’t. Pleasure, love, like she’d never experienced before, existed between them. Thankfully, he was always ready and eager. The bliss was incomparable. If admitting Valkyries were special and should not be confused with humans didn’t get her back into Valhalla—what would?
“Okay, so you don’t want to tell me who Skogul is. How about why me? Why did you choose me, Kiara?”
“What?” A loud whoosh of air drew her attention. She flipped her glance to Harrison. He appeared to not have heard the mythological horse arrive. Why had she?
“Skogul is a dynamic, fearless Valkyrie.” Skogul’s words came out as a proclamation, but a hint of laughter flittered underneath.
Harrison lurched. Flattening both palms onto the boulder, he moved forward. His eyes narrowed as he reached for her. Did he recognize Skogul from the battle? It didn’t matter—her friend had arrived. Kiara screamed and jumped from the stone.
She wrapped her arms around Skogul and flung her from side to side.
Chuckles came from her friend. “Puny. I can tell you haven’t been practicing.”
Kiara let her arms fall to her sides and glanced around. “Odin?”
“No.” Skogul strut forward and held out her large hand to Harrison. “Skogul, Leader of the Valkyrie First Squad.”
Harrison, having dismounted from the boulder, shook her hand and glanced at Kiara. This was it: either she’d remain as a human on Earth loving Harrison each minute of every day, or Skogul would have good news. Before Kiara could ask more questions, a shining circle spun in front of them. Göndul, wearing her signature luminescent white overcoat and shimmering purple coat of mail, came from beside the boulders. Had she come directly from a battle? Amethyst brassards glimmered on the garment as she reached to withdraw her sword.
A horse snorted. A quick glance past the boulders proved Göndul’s transportation wasn’t by a magical flying creature, as only Bella joined the other horses nibbling on fragrant field grass.
Kiara shot in front of Harrison. Not having regained Valkyrie powers, she needed to get a message to her friends. Widening her stance, she propped her hand on her hips. They couldn’t take him. She’d forfeit her own existence before she’d allow Harrison to become a ghost soldier. He stepped around her, blocking her. Did he know they were here to take her and possibly him? Peering over his broad shoulder, she pushed. He didn’t budge. Kiara went to his side and held his hand. “Göndul, have you come from a skirmish?”
“Perhaps anticipating one.” A head nod to Harrison made her mail links clink in the breath of silence. “I’m Göndul, Commander of the female Valkyrie squads.”
He pushed Kiara behind him. “Harrison Valentine Lombard, recently from a Special Reconnaissance unit of the United States Marine Corps Special Operations Command.”
Göndul straightened her spine, lifted her chin and said, “I’m to escort you both to Valhalla.”
“Harrison stays. He no longer qualifies.” A sharp elbow to his kidney didn’t alter his position.
He placed his hands on his hips, obviously trying to shield her. “Wait a minute—”
“You dare defy Odin’s order?” Göndul puffed out her chest. “Our God.”
Skogul stepped beside Göndul. “If I may. We—”
Göndul cut her an annoyed glance. “Silence!”
Harrison strode in front of Göndul. Chin lifted, he spread his legs and tucked his hands in his jeans. “Could I take some time to say goodbye to my family?”
“No.” Kiara’s body began to undulate. She had no control over the shaking and didn’t know how to stop it. Being in a human state was challenging and unpredictable. She didn’t like being powerless one bit. How could she stop the motion? Weakness overwhelmed her. How could she protect Harrison if she continued in human form?
Harrison pivoted, wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close. He held her until her body relaxed. “It’s all right. Although not enough, we’ve had some time together. My love for you is eternal. It won’t falter regardless which world we exist in.”
He didn’t realize what would happen to his soul, his life. Kiara would not permit Harrison to become a spiritless Einherjar. She shivered, picturing the blank stares of the warriors. The men had no thoughts, no freedom of choice. They became simple arms-bearing soldiers, protecting Odin.
Kiara tucked her face into Harrison’s neck, drawing his scent deep into her mind. Her lips kissed his warmth, gentle little nips touching as much of the surface as possible. His vibrancy would end. No, she couldn’t, wouldn’t allow him to sacrifice his true essence.
Regretfully, she broke free from his hold and faced Göndul. “No. Harrison has a brilliant mind full of military strategies. He would not aid Odin as a front line soldier at Ragnarok. Please, Göndul, take me and I’ll explain. Odin will no doubt feed me to the lions, but I’m willing to accept my fate.”
Göndul stepped to her and wrapped her fingers around her arm. “You may never see your Silent Warrior again, Kiara.”
The sincerity in her whisper shook Kiara’s core.
Harrison grabbed her shoulder, tugging her back to his side. “No, don’t do this, Kiara.”
Skogul seized Kiara’s hand, pulling her away from Harrison. “Think about this carefully, my friend. As an Einherjar, you and he will have centuries together. Most importantly, you will remain a member of my shield-bearing squad.”
Tears flooded Kiara’s eyes and her nose began to leak. She didn’t understand the madness, perhaps her insides were coming out. She turned toward Harrison, swiped her gloved hand across her face, then removed the leather covering. Placing her trembling fingers on the side of his precious cheek, she tried to trace his lips and force her face into a joyful smile. “My Valentine, I cannot let you became something lifeless and mechanical. A loving heart is so much a part of you, I’m afraid our love would disappear. I’m sorry. I love you too much to let you die and become a soulless warrior.” Kiara kissed him lightly then strode beside Göndul. “Leave him. Take me to Odin. I understand, and I’m ready to honor our agreement.”
“No,” Harrison shouted and dove toward them, but they were already on their way.
****
Harrison shifted on the uncomfortable metal chair, trying to concentrate on Basil’s latest adventure. What if Kiara popped in at his parents’ house while he was away? He’d lose an opportunity to see her. He knew, despite his parents and sister stating otherwise, Kiara had stayed with him for five days. His memories were vague, but his notes helped him understand why snippets of time spent with her entered his thoughts.
Granted, he couldn’t remember anything about how he got to the mountain ridge nor why he had two horses.
“You’ve got to stop moping around. Come with me to the beach house, and we’ll get a couple of broads to do us. Sex always clears the head,” Basil insisted. The large outdoor umbrella shielded his face, but Harrison could imagine disgust marked his friend’s image.
Harrison tapped the table top then scooted his drink to the side. Most of the salt crystals on the rim fell onto the blue vinyl. “I can’t leave my parents’ house. What if Kiara returns? She’d look for me at their place.”
“Too much time has passed and as with most women, she’s not coming back. It’s over,” his friend answered. Although he said the words, they didn’t hold conviction.
“You believe me that she was real and with me on Valentine’s Day, right?” Harrison asked for the hundredth time over the several months. He needed some affirmation.
“Look buddy, the doctors told you that the injury would always make your memories of those few weeks after the shooting a little distorted.”
They weren’t; Harrison reread his notes regarding Asgard and specifically Kiara and their time together. “She’s real and without a doubt she’ll return.”
Metal casters scraping against brick drew his attention from Basil’s speech. A dark-blonde-haired woman wearing a
brilliant silver dress moved to a shaded side of a table, closer to him and Basil. Something seemed familiar about her. Her proximity, in his personal space, meant she knew him. How?
“Yeah, of course, but it’s time to move on.” Basil leaned forward. “Take this chick beside me. Obviously she didn’t go home last night if she’s wearing silver sequins at noon. Want me to ask her if she’d enjoy a threesome?”
Harrison shook his head. His friend would always be chasing a skirt. “No, Basil. Did you find out where Major Wilson was the night before the Korean debacle?”
Basil folded his hands, with one finger tapping the metal table top. “He left. Disappeared. I think you might have been onto something. Six months before the Korea mission Wilson had done some dealings with civilians. Shady type.”
“I knew it. I haven’t been in contact with the PI. Do you know where Wilson was headed?”
The woman situated her seat in the aisle between their tables. Could she be connected to Wilson?
“He took off after internal affairs got involved. I’m sure the detective you hired is hot on his trail.” Basil winked and dropped the cocktail napkin close to the blonde. “Excuse me. I seemed to have dropped my napkin. There it is beside your very fine leg, Miss…?”
“Skogul.” Her voice tone reminded Harrison of Kiara but darker, deep throated.
“Ms. Skogul, would you like to join us?”
“Just Skogul, and yes I would.” Standing, she was tall, at least six foot, with legs taking up most of those inches. Slippers, matching her dress, graced her feet.
A sudden pall went through the crowd. Harrison glanced around the outdoor eating area. Peppie’s Cantina was crowed on this bright Saturday and Skogul drew attention. Men stared, open-mouthed, and women narrowed their eyes. Skogul was gorgeous, with glittering turquoise eyes and model-perfect face and figure. Basil whipped the teak chair around, scooting it under her. Caught by surprise, she fell onto the hard surface, causing her obviously unrestrained breasts to spring like a Slinky, gracefully moving up and down.
Behind her Basil wiggled his eyebrows, no doubt being able to see clear to the floor from his point of view. Harrison coughed to bring her attention to her gaping dress, but instead of drawing it closed she handed him Basil’s slightly damp napkin.
“No thank you. I’m Harrison Lombard and—”
“I’m Basil Vanguard, at your service.” He plopped onto his chair and flagged the waitress. “Yes, we’d like another round of margaritas and a fresh bowl of chips, please.” He moved his empty plate to the side. “Have you eaten? Would you like me to order something for you, Sko-goal?”
“Close, say it faster, Skogul.”
“Skogul.” Basil rubbed his fingers on the back of her hand.
“No, thank you.” She winked at Harrison. “I’m not hungry.”
“Skogul is an interesting name. What origin is that?” Basil touched her hand, a gentle caress, which was part of his three-step process to get a woman into bed in under an hour.
“Norwegian. And your name, Basil, a nice British name and also the name of an herb. Sweet basil is a strong pungent anise-smelling plant which my mother used on some dishes when I lived at home. In Greek, Basil means king.” She chuckled, as if to say you are anything but royalty.
“I’m certainly sweet, and I’ll be a king if you’ll be my queen?” He smiled, but not large enough to show his crooked teeth.
Skogul wouldn’t have seen them anyway as she turned toward Harrison. “Harrison is English in origin, a derivative of Henry, meaning ‘home ruler.’ Are you indeed the son of Harry? Or is it the Germanic Lombard meaning ‘nobility and straight as an arrow or javelin’ that your personality is based on?”
“Well aren’t you a little walking encyclopedia,” Basil interjected. “Harry’s arrow is only directed to the North Star, but my javelin can swizzle in many directions.”
“I doubt what you say is true,” Skogul said. “Harrison, are you married or committed to anyone?”
The woman was very direct. “Actually—”
“Here you go.” The waitress placed a glass carafe and salt-encrusted glasses on the table. A basket of steaming corn chips was placed in the center. Holding the round black tray under her arm, she glanced at Skogul. “Oh, I forgot. I’m to give this message to you.”
The server whipped a rolled piece of thick vanilla vellum from her skirt pocket and handed it to Skogul. Their pretty guest unrolled the parchment while the waitress cleared the table. Harrison wanted to curl up and absorb the pain suddenly shoving his heart into his chest. The paper. He’d held the thickness before. He had to touch it, prove his theory, and try to recapture the memory.
Basil, without a glimmer of bashfulness, glanced over her shoulder at the note.
Like a flood-gate opening, Harrison recalled Kiara at the battle, in his bed, on the rock where he’d been found wandering around like an Alzheimer patient. Skogul had been there, at the edge of the mountain range. Harrison reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Heart patterning a heavy fast beat, in slow motion he withdrew a tiny slip of paper where hieroglyphics at one time were written but had worn away. He seized the vellum from her.
Comparing them, the language would have been the same. However, Harrison wasn’t the same. He had decided his fate right there at a moment’s notice. Life as he knew it would alter, and Skogul was the transporter to his new existence.
“What does it say?” Basil asked. He had his arm wrapped around Skogul’s shoulders, but his glance focused on Harrison. “Harry?”
“It says that I am to keep my mission in mind and not deviate,” Skogul responded.
Basil lurched backward. His hand went to where he usually had a weapon strapped to his side. Considering he was on leave, and visiting, he wore civilian clothing and no weapons. “What mission would that be?”
“Stand down, Basil.” Harrison wrapped the pieces of paper together, stuffed them back into his wallet and placed the leather into his rear pocket. “Promise me you’ll continue my search for Wilson. If I’m not able to fulfill my goal, I want to leave knowing my best friend will carry on the task.”
“Yes, of course. What do you mean, if you’re not able?” Basil snarled.
Skogul refilled her margarita glass and swallowed a large portion. As she replaced the heavy crystal on the tabletop she uttered, “This is quite good. Will you be able to make them yourself, from memory?”
Harrison tilted his head. “Yes. I know how to make a margarita. When do we leave?”
“Fuck. Kiara said you were brilliant. She wasn’t kidding.” Skogul grinned.
Basil centered in his chair, picked up the carafe and drank directly from the pitcher.
“Let’s go. I just need to write a note to the family?” Harrison stood and threw a fifty dollar bill on the table.
Basil coughed. “Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?”
With a sympathetic glance, Skogul touched Basil’s arm. “I’ll explain on the way.” Dolt may have been mumbled at the end.
Chapter 13
Each day for the past three months, as Kiara hauled manure from Odin’s horse stalls, she thought of her last moments with Harrison. She sucked in a pungent foul odor. His pain-filled tone of voice, full of dismay and regret, ripped her heart apart. Releasing the breath didn’t give her heartache any relief. Perhaps she could have explained the situation better, eased his mind and made him aware of what his life would have been like as an Einherjar. Did he know that she loved him?
A rush of cold air from the mountaintop twirled and whooshed, stirring the fresh straw she’d placed on the wooden floor of the horses’ shelter. She lifted her face, trying to catch a bit of coolness, refreshing her, allowing her to breathe untainted air. Her Valentine would have been soulless. “The right thing to do,” she said aloud and pressed her palms to her eyes.
She shook off the moroseness and hung the rake on the hook. Buckets emptied, she lined the pots along the long wall. Wi
th a quick scan of the interior, she wiped her brow and snatched her black jacket from the first stall hook and strode from the barn door. Another powerless day had passed. Had Harrison thought of her or had his mind reset, memories of her taken from him? She took out the magic eight and glanced at the pebble-sized ball. Harrison’s form came onto the hard shiny surface. Hunched over his laptop he typed, a frown marring his perfect, handsome features. Humm, same image two days in a row. Odd.
“Think you’ve had enough of cleaning the horse stalls?” Skogul’s wide grin made Kiara wish she had her spear in hand once again.
“Do you know when this misery ends? Will I get my full powers returned today? I want to be a part of the squad and go onto the battlefield.” She tucked the magic eight into her pocket. Odin had been kind and allowed her to continue contemplating her obligations while mucking fertilizer and living in a stone and grass hut. But enough was enough.
Stabled for weeks instead of flying, Bright fretted. She let him run free in the east pasture, but he wanted to take to the air. Each horse was loyal to only one Valkyrie, so he would not be ridden by another. His anguish added to her poor state. Kiara rubbed his neck and pulled an apple from her jacket pocket. He nodded his head before taking the fruit from her palm. Kiara understood. She wanted to soar too.
Harrison’s voice. Kiara needed to get rid of hearing his voice, at night, and even during the quiet of the day. Each time she recaptured his shout of “No” with its underlying agony her heart hurt, reminding her of her human state. Valkyrie powers reduced stress. They felt emotions, but not as strongly as humans. She needed her powers returned.
Skogul didn’t immediately respond. Kiara tried to pry into her mind, but the effort was fruitless. Even from a born mind-reader, Skogul camouflaged her thoughts extremely well. “I’m not certain.”
Jealousy of her friend’s ability to soar into battle and collect Einherjars hurtled Kiara out of self-contemplation.
