by Jane Cousins
Finally, between one blink and the next the world came into sharp, clear focus. He shook his head carefully as a test. Still some pain, bruising, but the ache and harsh throbbing had been reduced to a dull murmur. He could see clearly. He could think clearly. Time to get some answers.
“Hello… Hello! Anyone? Housekeeping? The thermostat appears to be stuck on high heat and my pillow mint has melted.”
Fen listened as his words rebounded around the cavern, echoing back at him. Great, had he been abandoned here? Perhaps the Vulcan was confronting Brodie right at this moment, hurling super heated rocks at her head. Grrr, no, that didn’t make sense, why go to all the trouble of kidnapping him?
For that matter, just how had the Vulcan nabbed him? He’d been in the car park. Walking towards Taite’s SUV… and then, bam, nothing. No warning. No fleeting overhead shadow. Just lights out and the next thing he knew he was waking up in chez dirt cavern.
Fen was about to call out again but the lava pool, some fifteen feet away, began to bubble madly. Was the thing going to erupt? Thank Goddess he’d reserved his strength; he’d need all his energy to slam up a wall of impenetrable air.
No, wait, was that… okay, this was new. He watched as the lava abruptly began to part and a head appeared, then a neck, then a set of broad shoulders. In a weird way it reminded him of one of those old MGM classics, but instead of a babe in a bathing suit emerging from the pool, it was a seven-foot-tall Vulcan demi-god, with a square jaw and long, lustrous, tawny, gold streaked hair.
The lava ran off the Vulcan like it was water, no sign of damage to the man’s skin, hair, or his tight dark brown breeches or thigh high boots. It was intimidating… for about half a second, until Fen registered the man was actually standing in the middle of the lava pool, posing.
His shoulders were back, his bare chest thrust out, his chiselled jaw lifted in a superior fashion, his hands resting on his hips. All that was missing was a sword strapped to his side and a pirate ship beneath his feet… what a romance cover douchebag wannabe.
Fen swallowed hard on the urge to laugh. Then he bit down on the inside of his cheek to prevent the array of sarcastic taunts that threatened to escape. Smart, he had to play this smart. He was still manacled and chained to the floor, who knows where, with no visible sign of egress. Not to mention he had been presented with the perfect opportunity to get some answers as to why the Vulcan had been stalking Brodie and terrorising the Sanctuary.
Pissing off a Vulcan demi-god at this point in the proceedings wouldn’t get him anywhere, except maybe a chance to re-enact the face melting scene from Raiders of the The Lost Ark.
The Vulcan stepped from the pool of lava. It would have been an impressive sight, him walking over boiling liquid, but once his booted feet were dirt-side, the Vulcan tossed his head in a too practised move. His tawny, gold streaked locks flying outwards for a brief moment, before they settled down over his shoulders in an artfully tousled arrangement.
Fen bit down harder on the inside of his cheek. He would not comment. He would not laugh.
A superior sneer settled over the Vulcan’s tanned, granite features as he studied Fen with dark amber eyes that flickered with orange sparks. Scoffing loudly, the Vulcan tipped back his head and released a loud hearty laugh. “So weak. I could kill you with little more than a flick of my finger.”
Fen kept his expression carefully blank as a liquid rope of lava from the pool eased its way across the ground, twining around the Vulcan’s boots, like a cat, circling its master.
“I appreciate that. Perhaps you could tell me what this is all about?”
“I explain myself to no one.” The Vulcan stomped away, hair flying outwards, the stream of lava flowing across the rocky floor in his wake like a love sick puppy.
Silence descended.
Fen frowned, analysing all the facts. Okay, so he had a sneering, superior, petulant poseur on his hands with a God complex, even though technically he sort of was one.
Said Godling had kidnapped Fen, choosing to imprison rather than kill, yet claimed he didn’t want to talk about what was going on. But from the stiff set of his shoulders, and the not so discreet glances at his prisoner, Fen was guessing demi-god douchebag was desperate to spill his guts. Hmm, maybe a little taunt or two might help break the ice.
“Well Fabio, you came to the wrong Valhalla if you want help with those split-ends.” And he wasn’t talking about his sister, Hadleigh. His older brother, Locke, had strict and expensive grooming habits. Shit, if it wasn’t for Locke, he wouldn’t even know split-ends were an actual thing, let alone a problem.
“I do not have split-ends!”
Fen reared back, one second the Vulcan was on the other side of the cavern, next he was all up in Fen’s face, roaring. Hmmm, seems he’d hit a sore point. Well, at least they were conversing. “My bad, Fabio. Must have been the dim light in here.”
“My name is not Fabio.” The Vulcan huffed, straightening, moving away a few feet to lounge against a rocky outcrop.
Fen couldn’t help but note that the lava pool had begun to boil, emitting more heat and also more light. Fabio’s ego knew no bounds. “Right, we haven’t done introductions yet, have we? I’m Fen.” He looked at the Vulcan enquiringly, who only leaned back further into his studied relaxed pose, as if waiting for a photographic crew to walk on by and discover him. “Fabio it is then.”
“My name is Lanyard.” The Vulcan gritted out, adjusting one of the thick brown leather cuffs that adorned his muscular, tanned forearms.
“Okay, Lanyard. Now, see here is where you tell me what you want.”
“I am Vulcan. I want for nothing.” Lanyard tossed his head arrogantly.
“And yet my presence here, chained to the floor, would beg to differ. You kidnapped me, brought me here, you must want something. Revenge maybe? Look, what ever Brodie did to piss you off, running around setting things on fire is not the way to get pay back.”
“Revenge?” Lanyard blinked slowly, frowning for a split second before amusement settled over his features, a broad grin revealing a set of ultra bright teeth.
Whoa, the Vulcans must have cornered the world’s market on hair care and teeth whitening products. “Okay, not revenge, then what? Why are you following Brodie around and burning houses, cars and gazebos?”
Lanyard waved his hand dismissively in the air. “It’s nothing but a little harmless flirting. The Valkyrie is leading me on a merry chase… playing hard to get.”
“You and… Brodie?” Fen blinked, processing, then blinked again. “You have met her, right?” He couldn’t picture the two together; a blood thirsty Valkyrie, a sword in each hand, snarling in challenge, craving battle and this… this bodice-ripper cover Fabio.
“Of course we’ve met. She is all things soft and womanly, demure and sweet.”
Fen swallowed hard, not sure whether he was about to burst out laughing or choke. Soft? Demure? Sweet? Brodie? His Brodie? Grr, not his Brodie. “Not the words I’d use to describe her.” Was this poseur blinded by love? It was the only explanation. “You’ve spent actual time with her… talking and stuff?”
“We danced.”
The wedding, of course. Fen would have snapped his fingers but didn’t want to jar the manacles. What had Brodie told him? Right, that she used the dance floor like a weapon, no talking, no standing still, no repeat partners. “Um… but didn’t she dance with a number of your relatives?”
“Only because she is so nice and can’t say no.” Fen had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from howling. “But she fit in my arms like she was made for me, those breasts, those legs.”
“She has gorgeous eyes too.” Fen couldn’t help but add.
Lanyard shrugged indifferently. “I suppose.”
Fen released a deep breath. “Let me see if I’m tracking this. You meet Brodie at a wedding. Decided she’s the girl for you. Then…?”
“Then she played hard to get. Running off to the fields of Fjornfiall because she sup
posedly had to work. And then she goes on holiday, leading me half way around the world, obviously wanting proof that I mean what I say.”
“Right.” Fen nodded. “So you follow and burn down a couple of houses and a bar.”
“She has been testing me. I watched her run, swim, and talk to strange men in a bar in a pathetic attempt to make me jealous. I knew instantly that she wished me to make my declaration.”
“Sure, sure, burn shit down, women love that.” Fen shifted slightly, he could blast these manacles off and tackle Lanyard… hmm, he noted the rope of lava inch its way up Lanyard’s left boot. Or not, perhaps the wiser course would be to just sit here and hear the rest of the story. “But then you attempted to burn down the cabin she was in, what’s up with that?”
High colour flooded Lanyard’s cheeks and he abruptly looked away.
“So that was an accident?”
Lanyard shook his head. “A miscalculation, I thought Brodie would run outside, to safety, to me. But she is courageous, she stayed to fight the fire.”
“So it was you who called the emergency number?”
Lanyard nodded. “And she made me pay for that mistake, taunting me, disappearing and reappearing in odd places, with random men.”
Fen clamped his teeth together, Lanyard was sitting on the throne at the front of the delusional parade. Pointing out that Brodie hadn’t been avoiding him, didn’t even know the Vulcan existed, would not be considered prudent. “Why kidnap me? Bring me here?”
Lanyard beamed a high-watt superior grin his way. “The game is over. I’ve won.”
Fen looked around the cavern, at the dirt covered floor and then at the pool of lava in the centre. “How have you won exactly?”
“Come now, it’s obvious. Setting you up as my supposed rival?” Lanyard eyed Fen with clear disdain. “Clearly I have allowed Brodie to lead me on too long. Parading you around as her beau? As pitiful as you are, it is over stepping her bounds. She needs to come to heel. The time for games is over.”
Fen breathed a silent sigh of relief. Lanyard was a douchebag but he wasn’t an outright killer. Though that didn’t mean he wouldn’t hurt anyone accidentally thanks to his thoughtless carelessness and entitled attitude.
Hmmm, he’d listened carefully to Lanyard’s last bold declaration. Focusing on the Vulcan’s word choices; allowed, over stepping her bounds, come to heel… “You know, I think you’re right, it’s definitely time you formally meet Brodie, spend some quality time with her, really get to know her.”
Lanyard lifted his chin into the air. “I couldn’t agree more. I shall fly in and snatch her-”
“Whoa, hold on there Lanyard. We’re talking a sweet, nice, demure girl here. You don’t want to overwhelm her or scare her off with a show of brute strength. What say you just call her up, ask her to meet you for coffee?”
“Coffee?”
“Well it doesn’t have to be coffee.” In fact, having the Vulcan douchebag out in public probably wasn’t the best idea. They needed somewhere secluded, somewhere where Brodie would be able to swing her sword without endangering innocent bystanders. “Where are we exactly?”
“New Zealand, southern tip.”
“How did we get here?” New Zealand was a good four hour flight from the Southern Sanctuary, just how long had he been unconscious?
Lanyard looked bored. “We flew of course… taking pocket dimensions. It’s practically instantaneous.”
Good to know, now he just had to convince the asshole to return him home. “How about you meet with Brodie at my place? It’s private, away from distractions.”
Lanyard nodded his head regally. “Make it so.”
Fen looked around for whom Lanyard appeared to be ordering about and realised abruptly that he was currently fulfilling the role of lackey. Great. “Um… how-” His mobile was suddenly dropped into his lap. Heavens knew, given the lack of shirt and the incredibly skin tight breeches, where exactly the Vulcan had been hiding it.
Fumbling with his phone and trying to channel his magic so the still hot manacles didn’t rub against his raw wrists, Fen attempted to think up a succinct message that would convey to Brodie what the hell was going on. As he put the phone to his ear, he hissed, having accidently pressed it against the puffy, bruised side of face.
Goddess, why was he overthinking this? Brodie didn’t need to be warned about the Vulcan, she never let her guard down. She just needed to know where, when, and what to wear to kick Fabio’s ass. What a tosser.
He couldn’t wait for the Vulcan to declare his love and insist Brodie come to heel, what ever the hell that meant. Sounded like something you trained your dog to do, not the woman you were obsessed enough to follow half way around the world and pelt with super heated rocks, like a petulant child showing his admiration for a girl in the school yard.
Fen couldn’t wait to witness their reunion and watch Lanyard’s reaction when Brodie opened her mouth and the sweet, demure Valkyrie finally came out of her shell.
* * *
Brodie dropped the sword she was using to pummel the horde of electronic attackers, scrabbling for her mobile as it buzzed loudly in her back pocket. Her hands were slippery with sweat and sudden nerves. Nerves? Her? Freyja yes, she’d never understood true fear until Fen was taken.
Her stomach was in knots and she kept feeling like she wanted to throw up, and at the same time, wanted to pick up a war axe and begin swinging, tearing down the world until she found Fen. He had to be alive. He had to be okay.
Her mobile was still ringing loudly. Was it news on Fen? It had to be. Shit, shit, shit. Why were her shorts so tight?
Damn, she’d missed the call. Glaring at the device, she considered stomping on it, so it was probably a good thing that Elijah moved forward, snatching it out of her hand. Damn the man, she couldn’t even tackle him, not with him still bruised and trussed up like some bizarre piece of walking sushi with his aromatic seaweed wrap encasing three limbs and his ribcage.
Grrr, she was getting pretty fed up with being handled by Elijah. It had been his idea that they set up a command post at the training centre. His idea that she burn off some of her excess energy by training. She would have preferred living opponents but Elijah had instead hit the button for the highest setting on the electronic system and all but thrown her out into the arena.
When would they have news on Fen? When would they find where the Vulcan had gone to ground and send her in to tear, rend, and destroy the bastard?
If he hurt Fen, there would be nowhere on this plain or any other that the demi-god would be able to hide from her wrath. The world would weep rivers of blood until she found and punished the one who had hurt him.
Fen. Damn, she’d gone and done the impossible, she loved him. How? When? Maybe from that first moment when he knocked the wind out of her and she’d looked into his cerulean eyes. His smile. His directness. He never flinched or cringed away from her, if anything, he found her bluntness and blood thirsty attitude amusing, yet he never made fun of her.
He was brave, take charge, funny and smart. She admired the bold confidence he had in his own skills and the way he willingly stepped aside and let her take the lead when the situation called for someone with her talents. Not needing to prove he was the best at everything, or belittle her for being strong and capable.
Not that Fen didn’t have a healthy male ego, deservedly so, given his prowess in the sexual arts. Yes, the sex had been good, better than good. But the reason she loved him wasn’t solely because of the fact that Fen could send her liquefying into an orgasmic puddle with little more than a caress. It was how well they matched and complimented one another in every aspect of their lives.
So she loved him? How the mighty had fallen, but big deal. He’d been starkly succinct from the very beginning; no attachments, no commitments, no emotions, and no future. Fire lanced through her gut, surprised out how much it hurt to think that Fen didn’t, would never, reciprocate her feelings. She imagined how embarrassed he’d b
e if she made any sort of declaration.
Grr, what if he pitied her?
There was only one option, she needed to find Fen, and he’d better be alive and well. She’d smite the Vulcan who’d kidnapped him and been stalking her, and then she would run as quickly as possible back to her old life and throw herself into battle and never, ever, think about Fen Valhalla again.
Her mobile dinged, signalling a voice message had been received. Snap. Brodie glared down at the electronic practise sword that she’d just stomped on. So much for being indestructible. She turned her glare on Elijah as he held her phone up to his ear and listened. His face impassive, his slate grey eyes giving nothing away as he listened to the message.
Brodie waited with baited breath. Was it Fen? Had they found him? What the hell was the message?
Elijah lowered the phone, staring at her with a strangely speculative look.
“What? What’s happened? Have they found him?”
Elijah shifted slightly, looking uncomfortable, but it was hard for Brodie to gauge whether that was because his seaweed wrap bandages were irritating him or that he had bad news to share with her.
“Tell me!” She stopped short of grabbing and shaking him. It was bad news, she knew it was, her stomach felt hollow whilst her blood began to boil with rage. She would wipe the Vulcan from the face of the earth. She would tear his limbs off first and then rend him in two. She would…
“Um, do you own a nice dress?”
Brodie blinked, all the wind suddenly taken out of her sails. “What?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Their journey from the cavern in New Zealand was pretty much a blur. The moment Lanyard had reached down to grab the chain, either consciously or unconsciously heating the metal back up to scorching levels, it had been all Fen could do to stay calm and conscious. Yanked to his feet, all of his focus had been on redirecting his air magic to keep the fiery metal from touching his bare, raw wrists.
