by Jane Cousins
She hadn’t met many people, let alone many men, who acted so naturally around a Valkyrie. Which was both good and bad she decided. Good, because Fen saw her as a woman. Bad, because perhaps he was lumping her in with all the other women he’d known.
She was not seeking commitment or promises, all she wanted was… Brodie studied Fen, Valkyries were renown for their brutal honesty and it shocked her to her very core that she wanted him. Not just for sex, she wanted Fen… and she wanted him to want her.
Freyja, her pride had been bruised when he’d refused her offer of sex. And this barrier he’d erected between them, it continued to sting her. But she wasn’t doggedly pursuing him to prove that he was just another weak man. He wasn’t, he’d already proven that. Blocking her every advance. Vexing her at every turn. Standing by his vow in word and deed.
Well, except for the previous night on the couch. Brodie felt her whole body ache and flush in memory. He’d only touched, kissed and caressed her then because his guard had been down. He’d been asleep and somehow the two of them had ended up together. Hmm, she could… aghast, she realised her hand was reaching out once more towards him. It was one thing to be stealthy, but another entirely to take advantage of a sleeping man.
Yes, she had said she would conquer Fen. When she’d made that promise, she had been a fool, lying to herself. She had thought she wanted Fen only for his body, for a brief - tension relieving - bout of passion.
But she wanted more than that… more than a brief encounter. She wanted him to touch her, to kiss her, to say her name with a smile on his lips. She wanted him to relax his guard and let her in, let her get close.
Damn him, what was he doing to her? Who was this weak-willed woman who wanted?
Valkyries took. She should take him right now, unzip his trousers, fondle, kiss, and take him in her mouth. Within seconds his vow would be dust. She would be victorious, free of this place.
But the victory would be hollow and poorly won.
So if she could not have Fen, she truly would need to move on. Choose another partner… Heavens, she winced as the knots in her stomach twisted. How could she have been so blind? The idea of any man but Fen touching her made her feel both nauseous, and at the same time, desirous of calling Raven and skewering someone.
She’d even been fooling herself. She’d never had any intention of choosing another bed mate, she’d been using the idea to try and make Fen jealous, still secretly hoping that he would lay claim to her. How low she had sunk. Using base feminine trickery. It was shameful, she was shameful.
She couldn’t stay here now. Not feeling like this. Stephanie would understand, surely. Allow her to return to work. And if not, well, she would find something else to do, maybe hire herself out as a mercenary. She just needed to be anywhere but here. Anywhere that she wouldn’t have to see or talk to the walking temptation that was Fireman Fen.
Climbing out of the beanbag awkwardly, Brodie’s boot sent a nearby pile of books that Fen had been looking through last night toppling over. Damn, she bent to pick them up and froze as one of the covers caught her eye. O-Oh.
Snatching up the large tome, she flicked through its contents. Damn. Double damn. She had conveniently forgotten about the Firebug terrorising the Southern Sanctuary.
In the back of her mind she had begun to think that all the fires were just a nasty coincidence, but here before her was proof that they were not. By the Sword, Fen had been right all along, this was about her. She just didn’t know why yet, or more importantly, which particular idiot it was causing all this fuss.
Fuck, she couldn’t leave the Sanctuary now. If the troublesome Firebug followed her to a densely populated area such as Los Angeles, who knew how many people might get hurt or killed before she could track him down. No, the best place for her to eliminate her Firebug stalker was here.
Sighing softly, she gazed down at a still sleeping Fen. Hmm, how best to wake him? Her first insane instinct was to lean down, and gently shake him awake. Brush her hand over his roughened jaw, maybe trail it down his bare throat to… rein yourself in woman.
Crushing down on that stupid idea she pulled a booted foot back and gave him a hard, swift kick.
Fen was up and ready to face danger in an instant. The man did have remarkable reflexes. No, she would not think about his admirable points. From here on out, she would be nothing but professional, and once the Firebug was caught, she would flee the Sanctuary as if the hounds of Hades were on her tail.
“What’s wrong?” Fen looked around, frowning at the gleaming bookcases topped by carved wooden sentries depicting dragons, knights, amazons and warriors.
“I know who the Firebug is.” Brodie turned the book around, showing him the title.
Fen glanced down, his eyes widening in surprise. “Well… shit.”
* * *
“Whose kitchen is this?” Brodie asked for the second time. Looking around at the elegant, yet at the same time, comfortable cream kitchen; with it’s reclaimed wood bench tops and shelves lined with expensive looking pottery. Fen appeared right at home as he stood next to the stove, scrambling eggs and frying bacon.
“My grandparents. They won’t mind, they’re travelling around on the Trans-Siberian, seeing the sights.”
Brodie returned her attention to the toast, making sure that it didn’t burn. They’d arrived twenty minutes ago by Portal. Fen promising they’d only be staying long enough to shower and eat.
Concentrate on the toast Brodie, she scolded herself internally. Stop fixating on the way Fen’s quick shower had left his recently shaven jawline gleaming and looking oh so touchable, and how his fresh navy shirt was still damp and clinging to his frame in places.
“So, what does he want?”
“Who want?” Brodie looked around.
“The Vulcan demi-god you think is running around setting fires in the Sanctuary.” Fen elaborated, bending to grab some plates from a nearby cupboard.
“I don’t know it’s one of the Vulcans for sure. But the facts do seem to fit. Nor do I know why one of them would choose to follow me around causing such damage.”
“Did you insult one of them at this wedding you went to?” Fen turned off the stove.
“Undoubtedly.” Brodie was forced to confess. “I hate weddings and was in kind of a bad mood.”
Fen found juice in the fridge, pouring them both a glass. “Do you remember any one in particular that you clashed with?”
Brodie rolled her eyes in memory of that dark day, her friend Lena’s wedding. “They all blur together; annoyingly jocular, overly muscular, without the skills to back it up, and loud. All bluster and no substance.” Brodie wrinkled her nose in memory.
Fen concentrated on dishing out breakfast, and not the six foot Valkyrie leaning against the bench nearby, fresh from her own shower, her black hair braided tightly into two intricate boxer plaits. She was wearing tiny white shorts and a jade green tank top. He’d yet to see any bra straps so he could only assume that Brodie didn’t wear one. No mean feat, given her assets were full and high… always drawing his attention, when he wasn’t trying to steal glances at those long legs of hers of course.
Business, idiot, get your head back to business. Fen picked up the two plates and strode over to the small circular kitchen table off to the side. Brodie followed, bringing the juice and a plate of toast. Sitting across from her, Fen didn’t believe Brodie was being deliberately obtuse, she was a Valkyrie, which meant she divided the world up into three categories. Allies, enemies, and everyone in between was just annoying white noise, unworthy of her time or attention.
“What about photos?” Everyone took photos at a wedding. Fen started eating, pleased to see that Brodie was doing the same. There was something strangely satisfying about feeding this woman.
Brodie shrugged, like she’d ever want to record such a depressing event. “Oh, wait. Stephanie sent me some. I haven’t looked at them.”
“Can you forward them to me? We can go through them
right now on my laptop.” He reached over and fired up his tablet, adjusting it slightly so they could both view the screen.
A minute later Brodie eyed the first photo on the screen and sighed deeply. “That’s Lena, my friend.”
Fen couldn’t help but laugh at Brodie’s morose tone. “She makes a gorgeous bride, but you talk like she’s just been diagnosed with something fatal.”
“I don’t like weddings.” Brodie groused, crunching into a piece of toast. “They seem so… false to me.”
“False?” Fen was intrigued.
“Everyone goes on and on about how the wedding signifies a new beginning. The start of a marriage, a partnership… but I guess I just see it as signifying the end of so many things. Nothing is ever the same once a friend gets married.”
“Wow, way to look on the dark side, Xena.”
Brodie was surprised. “I thought you, of all people, would whole-heartedly agree with me.”
“Just because I don’t wish to join an institution doesn’t mean I can’t see the benefit in it for others. My sister… my brothers, have never been happier. And my parents…” Fen shuddered. “You’ve never met two more dissimilar people but they work, somehow, they just can’t seem to keep their hands off one another.”
“Now you are just talking about sex… which I’m all for. But I can’t get over the vows made at a wedding, they seem so insipid and so…”
“Final?”
“Yes, final. Like it’s the last thing the couple will ever do.”
Fen reached over and clicked a button, his attention riveted by the next photo. “Whoa, that is some dress you’re almost wearing there.”
“Not by choice. I was a bridesmaid.”
Fen studied carefully the way the slinky dark purple strapless number hugged Brodie’s curves. Even better it was short, putting those long legs of hers on display. Her hair was twisted up in a midnight coronet, studded with tiny dark purple flowers. He clicked through the next few, all featuring Brodie and then came to a stop, his gut twisting. In this photo she was smiling, her arm around Lena, the two of them laughing into the camera.
He thanked the Goddess above that the Valkyrie rarely smiled, he’d never be able to keep his vow of celibacy if she ever smiled like that at him for a prolonged period of time. Quickly he reached over to click the button again, scrolling through what now seemed to be a series of candid shots.
“That’s the groom.” Brodie pointed out. “Soldan… and those.” She scowled trying to recall faces and names. “Well, he has an awful lot of brothers, cousins and uncles. They all just kind of blurred together.”
Fen found himself scowling also, but for a different reason. “They’re not wearing very much.” He noted that skin tight, brown pants, leather wrist cuffs and knee high boots seemed to be the extent of the Vulcan clan’s wardrobe.
Brodie heaved a disgusted sigh as she finished her juice. “The never-ending flexing. Honestly, if you’ve had one sweaty bicep thrust into your face by an idiot, instructing you to touch it, you’ve had a hundred.”
“Sure.” Fen was surprised to find his hands were clenched into fists.
He decided his reaction was anger, not jealousy, he didn’t do jealousy. Jealousy suggested he had rights, an attachment. Nope, he was clearly just angry that one of these bare chested Fabio douche-bags, with their flowing tawny and gold locks down to their waists, who looked liked extras from a Magic Mike sequel, was running around the Sanctuary lighting fires and endangering his friends and family.
He stabbed at the laptop button, shit, now it was worse, he could clearly see Brodie in the background dancing with some seven foot, romance cover ready wannabe. “Who are you dancing with?”
Brodie shrugged. “No idea.”
Fen stabbed the button again. In the background Brodie was still dancing, but now her partner had golden flowing locks. “What about him?”
“Ummm… nope, maybe one of Soldan’s brothers?”
New photo, new dancing partner for Brodie. Shit, she may hate weddings but the woman was a damn popular dancing partner. “Him?”
Brodie just shook her head. Repeating the same action for the next eight photos.
“If you hate weddings so bloody much, why are you always on the fricking dance floor?” Fen hated how sour and pissed off he sounded. Hopefully, Brodie would think he was upset over not being able to readily identify their Firebug rather than reacting to the strange roiling possessiveness that seemed to have his gut churning.
“A moving target is one that can’t be pinned down or cornered. Plus, on the dance floor, it’s easier stop all the inane yammering. I just say something like - I love this song, have you listened to the lyrics?” Brodie’s gaze was fixed on her plate as she devoured the last piece of bacon. Standing abruptly, she grabbed her plate. “I’ll just clean up and then we can go.”
“Go?”
“I have a class to teach and I’d like to get in a couple of hours training before my students arrive.”
Fen frowned, watching her fill the sink with sudsy water. Brodie was eager to teach the self-defence class? Since when? His eyes narrowed, something was up with the Valkyrie. Something was different.
Brodie grabbed the pans from the stove and added them to the sink.
“Is something wrong?” Fen enquired.
“Wrong? No, of course not.”
“It’s just yesterday you didn’t seem all that eager to continue teaching the self-defence class… and I kind of thought, given this new information, you’d prefer to spend the day with me, hunting this joker down.”
Spend the day with him? Was he insane? Brodie shook her head, slamming the clean frying pan down on the drying rack a little more vigorously than she’d intended. Sure she needed to find and bitch slap the Vulcan demi-god playing drop the super-heated rock, but she didn’t intend to do so at the cost of her own sanity.
“You and your people know the area better than I do. And I assume you’ll be calling in the Enforcement Team for the take down when you pinpoint the target. Just have Elijah add my name to the contact list. Teaching the class will keep me busy whilst I wait.” And hopefully help keep her mind off Fen, and the unwanted feelings she had developed for him.
Fen scowled. Did Brodie have something going with Elijah? Or was there someone else on the Enforcement Squad she had her sights set on? Was that why she appeared to barely be able to look him in the eye this morning?
Hah, that was it. That’s what had changed. Brodie was no longer watching his every move, his every breath, like he was a juicy hamburger and she was starving. Oh, well, good. Yes, her attention had been flattering, but the timing couldn’t have been worse. So this was a good thing, right?
Fuck. Just which one of those worthless bastards had she decided to bang so she could quit the Sanctuary? Which ever one it was, he couldn’t let her do it. Make such a monumental mistake. He needed to protect her from herself. “How about I work out of the Fitness Centre today? That way you’ll be close by if I need input and you can stay across all the developments.”
Brodie finally lifted her gaze to stare at Fen. “Fine… what happened to your plate?”
Fen looked down, sometime in the last few minutes he’d snapped his empty plate cleanly into two equal pieces. “Must have been a weakness in the porcelain, one less thing to clean up. You ready?”
Brodie bit back a growl. Ready to spend the day in Fen’s proximity? Not really. Ready to work her body into a limp ragged mess so she wouldn’t have the strength or desire to want to reach out and touch the man? What choice did she have? She would not want him… it stopped now.
Feelings were a distraction. They made you weak. Out of control.
She would not want Fen. She could not afford to indulge in her desires for him. Because nothing scared her more than the idea that if she did have him, succumbed to passion, that it wouldn’t be quenched. That she would only want to be consumed by him again… and again.
No, she would not feel. Looking up
she watched Fen pick up his kit bag and gesture towards the pantry Portal door, batting those gorgeous cerulean eyes her way.
Grrr, it was clear that her only recourse was to train until she was so numb that she couldn’t feel. And she could only pray to Freyja that she would cross paths with the Firebug Vulcan soon. With no chance of sex in her immediate future, killing someone might be the only satisfaction she would achieve on this damnable holiday.
Chapter Thirteen
Fen’s research was getting nowhere fast. Bad enough he was continually distracted by Brodie… he meant the self-defence class. But what information he had found so far on Vulcan demi-gods was generic, and of little use in telling him how they could be tracked or defeated.
He’d even resorted to emailing his cousin, Darcy, for tips. Her email reply had been short and sweet. Minor Godlings. Vain. Assholes.
Yeah, that was Darcy, succinct if nothing else.
There had to be a clue to what this flying Fabio wanted in the material his Aunt Patricia had forwarded to him somewhere. Except he couldn’t seem to concentrate. His gaze lifting for the hundredth time to watch as Brodie taught her class.
His Aunt Kimberly had joined the group today, along with his Great-Great-Aunts Adelaide, Daphne, and Margot. And they’d brought along their good friend Joanne Granger. Rounding out the group that now numbered ten was Riordan McKenzie, her long red hair tied up in pony-tail, a look of intense concentration on her face as she watched Brodie demonstrate a move.
It wasn’t a generic move, he noted. It was a move specifically designed for Riordan, taking into account her height, weight, and most importantly her magic. That was the thing that impressed Fen the most about Brodie’s approach. She spent time with each student, getting to know them and their magic. Then she tailored moves that took, what most people considered - along with the users themselves - inoffensive magic, and made them into weapons.
Gaia entangling and spearing her opponents with tree roots. His Aunt Kimberly using her rain calling abilities to create liquid daggers from the surrounding air. Shooting them at her opponents as if she had been doing it all her life rather than just for a few hours.
