To Vex A Valkyrie (Southern Sanctuary - Book 9)

by Jane Cousins

  “And yet I just call him Dad.” Fen gave Brodie another tug, nope, immobile. “Look, yes he’s Gunther Valhalla, first born son of the God Odin, but other than that he’s just your normal, average, every day, surly, gruff, Norse Warrior. Trust me, he’ll… well, probably not love you, but I’m pretty sure he’ll tolerate you.”

  Fen thought his argument had gotten through, Brodie let go of the car door and clutched at his hand, head lifting, shoulders back. Yes, there was his proud Valkyrie, the woman who led armies into battle, who never flinched from a fight, who fought until she was the only one left standing.

  “Ouch.” He’d tried to take a step towards the house but Brodie had effectively trapped him in place with her death grip. “Problem?” He enquired between clenched teeth, surprised that all of the bones in his hand were still intact.

  “Fen, I can’t meet your father… your parents, looking like this.”

  Fen frowned, she looked perfectly fine to him. Okay, a little sweaty, and her tank top had a dirt smear down the left side, but the woman was gorgeous, with a great rack and legs that went on for miles. Who could pick fault with that? “Don’t go girlie on me now, Xena.”

  “I’m not going girlie.” If anything, Brodie increased her grip on his hand. “I just want to be presentable that’s all.”

  Fen rolled his eyes, women, they worried about the craziest things. His mother was inside right at this moment talking colour swatches and reception venues. He needed to be in there putting a stop to the madness. “Brodie…” There were supposed to be other words to follow, cajoling words full of wisdom and common sense, but he’d suddenly lost the ability to speak.

  In the split second he’d taken his eyes off of her she’d changed. Whoa, had she changed. A groan escaped his lips unbidden as he took in the knee skimming pale blue dress she now wore. It wasn’t tight or anything, it was just Brodie in a dress was kind of a revelation.

  “Problem?” Brodie glared at him challengingly. Had she gotten it wrong? The empire waistline meant the dress wasn’t clingy, and the thin straps and neckline revealed no more than her tank top.

  “My hand.” Fen knew it was a feeble excuse but better than telling her the truth. The sight of her in a summery dress made him light headed, all the blood rushing to lower points in his body. Crap, and her knee high boots had morphed into golden strappy sandals. She’d even changed her hair, two thin intricate braids woven around the crown of her head whilst the majority cascaded down over her shoulders in midnight dark glorious waves… the woman was a force to be reckoned with.

  “Oh.” Brodie let go of his hand. She’d been kind of hoping for a different response from Fen, maybe a compliment or two. Freyja, how weak she sounded. Yet she couldn’t seem to stop herself from asking. “How do I look now?”

  Fen swallowed… and then swallowed again. Vow of celibacy… vow of celibacy… cold water, icy streams, snowbanks. “You look perfectly… adequate.”

  It was all Brodie could do not to haul off and deck Fen… adequate? He thought she looked adequate? Of all the insulting, annoying things to say. Tossing her head, hair flying, hopefully from his angle he didn’t see her spit some out of her mouth, she pushed past him and headed for the house.

  The sooner this lunch was over, the sooner she could track down the Vulcan thorn in her ass, the sooner she could get away from the incredibly vexing Fen Valhalla.

  Fen watched Brodie stomp past him, her eyes practically spitting fractured blue sparks. Her head high, bright colour in her cheeks, her body language screaming that she was ready to face any foe. Ah, there was his Valkyrie, back at her spitfire best. Fancy getting bent all out of shape at meeting his father… when it was his mother she should really be worried about.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was the last straw. Every surface in his parent’s living room was covered in paint samples and bridal magazines. And right in the middle of the mess was Saffron, looking surprisingly modest in a high necked summer dress. The silk material an explosion of colour; soft pinks, yellows and just a hint of blue to complement her slicked back, dark-blue hair.

  Upon seeing Fen, her eyes lit up in pure delight, her wide mouth curving into a welcoming smile. “Honey, I was just showing your mother a few ideas I had for the house.”

  Honey?

  House? His house?

  His mother, Lucy, sitting in a nearby armchair, turned around in her seat. Her dark blue eyes bright with happiness, her long dark brown hair pulled back by a yellow hair clip that matched the simple shift dress she was wearing. “Fen, darling.” She eyed him as if she was already picturing him in a formal suit standing before the celebrant.

  This was too much. First the restless night spent waiting on news regarding Elijah’s condition. Then a sweaty run through the bush being chased by an eight-foot hairy, one-eyed, horny beast, and now this… Saffron and his mother plotting his life out. Decorating his home. Picking honeymoon destinations… it was too much. He’d had enough.

  Pure and simple, he was done playing nice.

  Reaching back, he grabbed Brodie’s hand and pulled her to his side on stiff, reluctant legs. Wrapping his arm around her suddenly tense shoulders he smiled. “Saffron? I had no idea you’d be here. Well, you already know Brodie. Mum, I don’t think you’ve met Brodie yet, have you?”

  Lucy Valhalla shot to her feet, a smile on her lips but bewilderment in her eyes. “Um, no, not yet. Welcome.” She glanced at Saffron, concerned to find her looking pale and angry, then to Fen, obviously looking for answers as to what was going on here.

  “Brodie’s my girlfriend.”

  Saffron’s cry of shocked horror was thankfully louder than the squeak of surprise Brodie issued at his words. She shot Fen a dark look. Jut what the hell was the man up to?

  “Smile.” Fen whispered to her out the corner of his mouth, gripping her tighter when he sensed she was about to bolt.

  Brodie gritted her teeth and forced a smile, which probably appeared closer to a snarl, but it was the best she could do at the moment. “It’s really nice to meet you, Mrs Valhalla.”

  “Lucy. You must call me Lucy. Um… well, Fen, why don’t you take… Brodie out to the patio and introduce her to everyone. Saffron and I’ll just clean up all this mess.” Lucy began grabbing magazines hurriedly and stacking them. “Tell your father that Vaughn and Hadleigh are running a little late, so not to put the meat on the barbecue just yet.”

  With Fen’s tight hold on her, Brodie had little choice but to leave the living room at a fast pace. Which was a pity as she wanted to eavesdrop on the hushed tense conversation that sprang up in their wake between Saffron and Lucy Valhalla.

  “What game are you playing?” She queried, between clenched teeth, as they stepped out on to the shaded patio. A long, sturdy, wooden table decorated with several vases of white and dark pink roses looked summery and festive under the wisteria canopy of dark purple flowers.

  “You owe me. Play along.” Fen whispered back.

  “I owe you? In what universe do I owe you?”

  Fen just tightened his grip around Brodie’s shoulders, the woman was a definite flight risk. “Everyone.” Five sets of eyes swung in their direction. “I want you to meet Brodie, my girlfriend.”

  “Will you stop saying that!” Brodie hissed under her breath.

  Stunned silence reigned for a moment before the two young couples at the table all started speaking at once. Brodie nodded absently as Fen introduced his brothers, Locke and Erik, and their wives, Serena and Cara. But the majority of her attention was fixed on the large man sitting at the end of the table. Gunther Valhalla.

  Her knees were practically trembling with nerves and excitement, and for a brief moment she was grateful Fen had such a tight grip on her.

  Gunther’s long red hair was clubbed back by a leather tie, his light grey eyes missed nothing, lightning arcing across the pupils as they assessed her. He was tall, even sitting down, but more than that, the man was very broad, the khaki coloured t-shi
rt he wore working over time to contain all that muscle.

  Oh Freyja, Fen was pulling her closer to him. She desperately wanted to meet not just a living legend, but a personal hero, however, at the same time was scared she would make a fool of herself.

  “Dad, this is Brodie. Brodie, meet my Dad, Gunther Valhalla.”

  “Call me Gunn.” The words came out deep and gravelly.

  “Really? That’s… thank you.” Brodie’s training kicked in and she began to assess the man for weaknesses. His hands were huge; she’d need to steer clear of those. Those arms, the corded bulging muscles of his biceps declaring loud and clear that if the man ever got you in a headlock, the fight would be over. Still….

  Gulp, she was staring, wasn’t she? Lifting her gaze, her eyes clashed with lightning bright grey eyes. There was challenge in those depths, instinctively she responded. Elbowing Fen in the ribs, she straightened her stance, head high, shoulders back, a fine dark eyebrow arching ever so slightly signalling she would not back down from anyone, even Gunther Valhalla.

  The right corner of Gunn’s mouth lifted ever so slightly, as he placed an elbow on the table and flexed his hand. “Valkyrie?”

  “Ur… I don’t think-” Fen didn’t get to finish his protest as Brodie shouldered him aside eagerly, plunking herself down in the seat next to Gunn.

  Placing her elbow on the table Brodie flexed her hand, signalling readiness. “Warrior.” She was about to arm wrestle with Gunther Valhalla, everyone back at Headquarters would be three shades of jealous right now.

  Fen watched on in horror as his father’s large hand engulfed Brodie’s. The entire table had gone silent at this surprising new development.

  See, this was why he never brought girlfriends home.

  Five seconds. Brodie lasted all of five seconds, and she couldn’t have been happier. And even though Gunn’s gruff expression barely changed, she could have sworn she saw a glimmer of respect in those grey eyes.

  “Again?” She rested her elbow on the table once more, unable to contain a grin as Gunn shrugged those massive shoulders and mirrored her action. They clasped hands once more, without thinking Brodie slammed her other fist down on the table. “Bring ale.” Uh-oh, she wasn’t on the battlefield now.

  Gunther Valhalla blinked in surprise and then threw back his head, roaring with laughter even as he reached over to cuff Fen up the back of the head. “You heard the woman, boy. Fetch ale.”

  * * *

  Hadleigh stalked out of her parent’s Portal into their kitchen, her light grey eyes stormy with anger, high colour gracing her cheeks. A-hah, just what she needed. She made a bee line for the kitchen counter, where a large knife lay on a cutting board. Annoyingly, before she could scoop it up, Vaughn snuck past her and grabbed it.

  “Now what did we say about sharp objects around the baby?” His golden eyes were full of sincere concern as he eyed his wife, looking for the faintest hint that there was anything wrong with her health, or that of his first - yet to be born - child.

  “The foetus was not making a grab for the knife, I was, give it here.”

  “Now Hadleigh, you know strong emotions are not good for the baby.”

  Hadleigh’s teeth ground together as she eyed her husband. She loved him, she truly did, but he was driving her insane. “That’s it, I’m burning all those guide to a healthy pregnancy books when we get home.”

  Vaughn straightened to his full seven feet three inches, looking baffled. “I don’t know what you have against those books, they are very informative.”

  Goddess help and preserve her. They had discovered she was pregnant a mere two weeks ago and they had a long way yet to go before the birth. Frankly, she wasn’t sure if both of them would make it. “Alcohol. Now.” Hadleigh turned and stormed out of the kitchen.

  “Alcohol isn’t good for an expectant mother.” Vaughn reminded, hot on her heels.

  “Not for me, idiot, for you. I swear Viking, if you don’t start to chill about this whole pregnancy thing, I won’t be held accountable for my actions. Stop treating me like I’m made of glass.” She tossed her head of dark red curls and did her best to ignore her husband tagging along beside her. Bad enough he monitored her every breath, her every move, the man had also placed a moratorium on them having sex.

  It was one thing to have a baby on board, who was upsetting her balance and flooding her system with uncontrollable hormones, it was another thing entirely to feel so horny she wanted to scream. Two weeks felt like a lifetime, how was she going to survive another seven months?

  Of course that was assuming she would have a normal pregnancy, after all, she was married to an Elite Warrior, one who served the Goddess Maat, reborn in the sun over a hundred years ago. Who knew what that would mean gestation wise.

  Grrr, it didn’t bear thinking about. She needed to find some alcohol, stat, pour it down Vaughn’s throat and insist her meld mate relax. That, or punch him really, really hard.

  Gritting her teeth tighter still, she paused before stepping out on to the patio, preparing herself for her mother’s gushing, her father’s stoic approval, and her three older brothers’ relentless teasing.

  Family, she loved them, but they could be trying.

  Especially when they were ignoring her. With Vaughn by her side she contemplated the scene. Everyone’s attention was directed towards the end of the table where her father was arm wrestling with an unknown woman in a blue dress. The woman wasn’t winning but she was putting up a perfectly respectable fight, ten seconds at least before the back of her hand touched the table top. Impressive, considering her father’s strength.

  Then her father did a very unexpected thing, he laughed… loudly. Grabbed his pint glass, raised it in the direction of his challenger and drank deeply.

  Hadleigh cleared her throat.

  “Hadleigh, darling. Vaughn.” Lucy Valhalla sprang out of her seat, hurrying to engulf her youngest child in a hug. Going up on tip-toe so she could whisper hurriedly in her daughter’s ear. “Your father’s drunk. That’s Fen’s new girlfriend. And the woman with the blue hair is his ex-girlfriend.” Leaning back, she plastered a smile on her face. “Let me look at you, you’re glowing. And Vaughn.” She released her daughter to engulf her son-in-law.

  Hadleigh shared a confused look with her husband. Drama and her family always went hand in hand. Well at least she wasn’t in the centre of it.

  “Dad.” She only had a second to brace herself before her seven-foot tall father swept her up into a bone breaking hug. “Ugh.”

  “My baby is having a baby!”

  “Um, Gunn, careful… she’s pregnant.” Vaughn winced for Hadleigh’s sake, and then winced again, as Gunther swung an arm around and pounded him hard on the back.

  “Congratulations. We should toast.”

  Vaughn fought the urge to rub his shoulder. “No… I-”

  “Yes, a toast.” Hadleigh beamed at her father. A sudden plan forming in her head, get Vaughn drunk, have her wicked way with him and prove once and for all that sex wasn’t bad for the lump.

  Hadleigh accepted a warm hug of greeting from her sister-in-law, Serena, looking beautiful and tiny in a dark purple strappy dress, accentuating her blue purple eyes, whilst her white gold hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, in a vain attempt to appear taller. Not going to happen standing next to six-foot-six Hadleigh.

  Next came Cara, married to her brother Erik. A warm smile on her gorgeous face, her red golden hair spilling down over her shoulders in glossy corkscrew curls. Her eyes twinkling blue behind the lens of her glasses. She looked happy and pretty in a navy summery dress covered in bright red splashes that hugged her soft feminine curves.

  Locke, her oldest brother, swooped in next for a brief hug. His dark navy eyes sparkling with mischief as he pressed his lips close to her ear and whispered. “Fun fact, did you know an elephant’s gestation period is close to two years?” His tone low and mocking.

  Hadleigh sent him a fleeting glare before Erik swooped
in from her left. “Finally you’ll be able to put those child bearing hips of yours to use.”

  Before Hadleigh had a chance to respond, Vaughn was stepping forward, grabbing Locke and Erik by the shoulders and bringing them in for a tight hug, squeezing extra hard, both brothers looking kind a pale for a moment. “Nothing brings a family closer together than a baby.”

  Locke and Erik stumbled back to their seats, wincing and rolling their shoulders, glaring Vaughn’s way.

  Fen stepped up next. “It was the leopard print lingerie set, wasn’t it?” He grinned.

  “I find it very disturbing how you knew my size.” Hadleigh released an exasperated sigh.

  “Hey, I know women.” Fen grinned.

  “You don’t say.” Hadleigh met and matched his grin. “Speaking of which, why don’t you introduce me to your girlfriends.”

  Fen’s grin flickered but held. “Sure. Hadleigh, Vaughn, this is-” Fen sputtered to a halt realising suddenly that Brodie was right next to him, sizing up Hadleigh with an assessing look. “Brodie.” He finished, quickly clamping a restraining hand on her wrist.

  The two women, Warrior and Valkyrie, said nothing for a moment. Fractured blue eyes looking up at clear grey eyes, six inches in height separating them. The air practically shimmered with tension and then just as suddenly it dissipated.

  “Swords?” Hadleigh enquired.

  “Swords.” Brodie nodded, calling forth Raven. Only Saffron released a small surprised noise, the rest of the group were used to weapons at the dining table.

  Hadleigh called forth her own personal favourite, ignoring Vaughn who made as if to intervene. Luckily her father was close enough to restrain her meld husband, handing him a large mug of ale.

  The two women reverently swapped weapons. Examining them carefully.

  Saffron rolled her eyes, she could not seem to catch a break. Well, she wasn’t going down without a fight. Pushing her chair back she sashayed around the table to stand by Fen’s side, placing a proprietary hand on his delightfully muscular bicep.