by Bast, Anya
Jessa stood motionless for a moment, her body still singing from the memory of his touch and his nearness, then she rushed after him. She skidded into the foyer to see him disappearing upstairs and took the steps two at a time to get to the top. The corridor was empty when she reached it and his bedroom door was closed.
Standing in front of it, she wilted. Damn it, what had he been about to say?
Broder stood on the other side of his bedroom door, knowing that Jessa was in the corridor. He could feel her presence through to the center of his bones.
When he saw her, he saw his future. That was what he’d wanted to say to her, but he hadn’t been able to form the words. It was the truth, but it was an impossible one.
He had forever to live, yet he had no future.
Correction. He had a long future filled with killing, with death, with punishment. He had a future in which he would go on wishing for his own death, wishing that someone would kill him.
Loki had said Jessa was his reward, but really she was just more punishment. By showing Broder what he couldn’t have, Loki had only twisted the knife. Loki had known Broder would fall in love with her and Loki would experience deep pleasure when he took her away.
With every breath Jessa took, she reminded him of everything he wanted, but could never have. With every move she made he regretted his past and longed to be free to share a future filled with life and love with her.
“What’s it like, being a Valkyrie?”
Jessa and Halla had taken blankets up onto one of the battlements and were lying in an afternoon of rare sunshine. It was warm, but just barely. Jessa was pretending she was on a beach somewhere.
They’d spent a grueling morning at training and it had left Jessa wondering about what Halla’s life must be like. They really never talked about anything personal, just the business at hand and that was usually training.
Halla shrugged and played with the straw stuck into her glass of soda. “The life of a Valkyrie is not much different from that of a witch, except our power lies in physical strength instead of magick. Like the seidhr, we live communally, study together, train together. In our case it’s a little like an … what is it called … an all-female boarding school.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It can be, but it’s also very hard work. We train hard since we’re mortal, unlike the Brotherhood. We can be killed if we’re injured badly enough.”
“So you battle the Blight like the Brotherhood does, but have a higher casualty rate. Seems unfair.”
Halla looked into her drink and poked a melting ice cube. “I’d rather have the risk of death than to be living in eternal torment like the Brotherhood. We have free will; we have our own lives. We love as we will, take vacations, go to the movies if we so choose. The Brotherhood can do none of this. They truly are the damned.”
“Broder and Erik sure don’t have a sense of humor, that’s for certain.”
“You wouldn’t, either, in their situation. To live at the whim of a god like Loki is not an easy thing.”
“Have you met Loki?”
Halla rolled onto her back and sighed. “No, and I’m glad. He’s a self-centered bastard. You see him sometimes, in magazines and in the background of celebrity TV shows.”
Jessa rose up on her elbows. “Really? Is he an actor or something?”
“No, but he runs in those circles. He’s very wealthy and handsome, and he has a certain charm. What is the word … charisma? I guess Hollywood is the closest he can get to Asgard. He was banished from that place, you know, and he loved it there.”
Jessa nodded. She’d been reading up on her Nordic myth. “Yes, for killing Baldur, the god of truth and light. Loki sounds like a real douche bag.”
“Baldur died because Loki wanted to show off his cleverness. Loki is all ego and immaturity. Thor loved Baldur, as did all the gods, so he banished Loki to Earth and set upon him the task of the Brotherhood.”
“Which Loki thinks is beneath him.”
“A god demoted to that of jail keeper. Yes, he believes it below him.”
“So he punishes the inmates.”
Halla nodded. “Every opportunity he has.”
Jessa was silent for a while, thinking of Loki and the Brotherhood. She turned over onto her stomach and adjusted her sunglasses. Halla had closed her eyes. “Do you know what Broder did to deserve a punishment like the Brotherhood?”
Halla rolled to her stomach, too, and took off her sunglasses. “The original crimes of each of the brothers are well-guarded secrets. I don’t know what Broder did, but it involved blood, death. All of the original crimes are heinous things. These men may have found … what’s the word … relegation?”
“I think you might mean redemption.”
“Ah, yes, redemption sometime throughout the years, but none of them were good men back then. They were all murderers.”
Jessa tried to imagine Broder as a man like the ones Halla was describing and shivered. He was protective and caring now, but it wasn’t such a big leap to make.
Jessa stepped out into the morning air and inhaled the fresh scent, closing her eyes as it cleansed her lungs. It was a nicer-than-average morning, a bit warmer and clearer of mist. The view, even from where she stood near the front door of the tower, as she’d taken to calling it, was spectacular.
Even better, that morning she’d woken to a box of Jujyfruits on her bedside table. Smiling, she sipped her coffee. Broder might be as tough as steel on the outside, but the man possessed a compassionate heart.
She hadn’t slept well the night before—no big surprise with everything that was going on in her life at the moment. When she’d wondered where Broder had gone, Halla had grunted at her over her coffee and told her to check outside.
The sound of a tool on metal drew her attention to the front gates. Ah. There he was. The view had just improved tenfold. Broder was fixing the gate the shaman had busted through. He wore only jeans and a pair of black work boots. Her gaze skated appreciatively over the bunch and flex of the muscles in his arms, back, and chest as he moved.
Goddess help her, but the man was a sin to gaze upon.
Two cups of steaming coffee in her hands, she walked down the sloping driveway to him. He glanced at her with a look on his face that would lead her to believe—if worn by any other man—that he was pissed off. On Broder, she accepted it as his natural expression. If the man ever smiled, she would faint. If he ever laughed, she would probably have a fatal heart attack.
He pointed at the edge of the gate he’d rehung. “Don’t step past the boundary.”
She halted and looked down at the faint line in the gravel. “Why? What will happen if I do?”
“The protections afforded you here will not shield you.” He hefted the other gate like it was made of tissue paper and slid it into the hinges on the stone archway.
Once the second gate was hung, she offered him the cup of coffee. “Want this?”
He nodded and slid the cup from her fingers. She tried to ignore the tingle that went through her when he grazed her fingers with his. He took a long drink as he examined the gate. He wasn’t in much of a talkative mood this morning, not that he ever was.
Setting the cup down, he moved to the electrical box. “The shaman did some damage to the gate, but not to the magick that protects this place. You’re still safe here.”
“I never doubted I was.”
“You should.”
She shivered, remembering the man trying to shove her into the back of the SUV. “Can the Blight break into this place?”
“No.” He paused. “But they have other tricks they can use.”
Her blood went cold. “What do you mean?”
Tinkering with the electrical box, he shrugged one broad shoulder. “They are supernatural creatures. The lower-level grunts are just that, grunts, but some of the upper-level demons, they have skills.”
“Skills?”
“Powers. Abilities. Not unlike the seidhr. Th
eir abilities vary and can be unpredictable.”
“Fabu. And why am I only learning about this now?”
Another shrug, like it was no big deal. “No reason to worry you. We can’t control all the variables. We need to stay vigilant.”
She snorted, studying him. The way he’d said that was so flippant. It heated her blood, but this time not with lust. “You say that as if you don’t care if they take me.”
He moved faster than she’d ever seen another person move. Suddenly she found herself pressed up against the stone wall behind her. The coffee she held sloshed over the side and onto the gravel. “Whoa.”
“I care. I care, Jessa, more than I’ve cared in a thousand years. The Blight will need to come through me to get to you. Understand?”
Her heart beat out a staccato rhythm. “I believe you.” There was no way she couldn’t with the look in his eyes, so intense and earnest. Her voice trembled a little. She swallowed hard. “And that’s why I feel safe here despite what happened with the shaman.”
He lingered for a moment, his gaze on her mouth, and she thought he might kiss her. Half of her wanted that kiss more than anything in the world, but the other half dreaded it, since every time he kissed her, a little more of her will to resist him shredded away to nothing. Then he would break her heart.
Finally he backed away from her and went back to tinkering with the electrical box.
Her hands shaking, she peered into her now half-empty cup. “I need more coffee.”
Broder said nothing.
She stared at the electrical box. “I could help with that, you know.”
He stepped back without looking at her. “Go ahead.”
Setting her coffee cup down on the gravel, she stepped up to the box and held her hands out. The magick inside her immediately responded to the electrical impulses inside the box and Jessa again made the connection between the electrical impulses in a person’s brain. She parsed through the tangled currents and put them in order, repairing the places where the connections were damaged.
When she was done, the green light on the front of the box popped on and she took a step back. “There you go.”
Broder nodded at her and went back to work on the gate, turning his back.
Well, then. She collected her coffee cup and made her way back into the house. Apparently that was enough chatting for now.
She turned toward him before she went into the house. “I really want to make you laugh sometime, Broder.”
He paused in his work, but said nothing for a long moment. Then he turned his head partway toward her. “I haven’t laughed in a very long time. At least, not out of happiness.”
“I’m just saying, it’s a goal.”
He went back to work and she continued into the keep.
Halla was lingering in the foyer when she entered the tower. She had a little grin on her face.
“What?” snapped Jessa as she crossed the floor to the kitchen.
Halla leaned against the railing and shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing.”
Jessa shook her head and entered the kitchen, setting the cup down on the counter. Halla followed her in. “That man makes me crazy.”
“Not as crazy-making as you do him.”
She sorted out the bad grammar. “You think I make him crazy?”
“Like a top. He’s just good at not showing it.”
Crazy like a top—that was how she felt. Spinning and spinning … She leaned on the counter and closed her eyes. “He doesn’t show anything, ever, except maybe rage, or aggression. Maybe annoyance once in a while. Lust,” she added under her breath. “It’s like he’s … only half cooked.”
“It’s not all that surprising, is it? Many of the Brotherhood are this way. They’re tortured, Jessa, beyond anything you or I could imagine.”
Jessa studied Halla. She’d ducked her head and was studying the countertop fiercely. Clearly something weighed heavily on her mind.
“You sound like you speak from experience,” said Jessa softly.
“I do,” she answered with her head still lowered, “but I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I get that and totally respect it.” She took Halla’s hand and the Valkyrie looked up at her in surprise. “But please consider me a friend and know that I’m here anytime you might decide you want to talk about it.”
Halla smiled and Jessa noticed a sheen of tears in her eyes. “Thank you.”
Jessa slapped the counter. “I want to train today. I need to punch something—hard.”
“I can help with that,” Halla said, all perkiness and grins. “Let’s go.”
THIRTEEN
After they’d spent a satisfying day of training, Jessa took a long, hot bath. Her body was becoming harder, getting toned, and she could tell her waist was cinching up. Apparently running for her life had managed to do what nothing else in her life had—convince her she needed to be in shape.
She stood, letting the warm water sluice down her body, and grabbed a nearby towel, wrapping it around her torso and then twisting her hair to the top of her head. Humming to herself, she grabbed a bottle of lotion and left the bathroom.
A shadow moved by the window and she gasped in surprise, but instantly went on alert, every muscle ready to defend herself—even if she had to do it in the nude.
The figure walked into the light. It was Broder and she relaxed.
She breezed past him with the lotion bottle in her hand. “The door is made of wood, you know. When you rap your knuckles against it, it makes this really cool knocking sound.”
He moved to the side and indicated a pile on the table by the window. “I brought you some information on the seidhr. I just stopped by to drop it off.”
Jessa forgot that she was wrapped in only a towel. Leaving the lotion lying on the bed, she went to stand over the sheaf of papers. It was thick. Lots of information in there. She touched it with her forefinger.
“I figured you’d want it,” Broder added. “Erik brought it with him.”
Erik had found himself sitting all alone on the side of the road not far from the airport after the shaman had tried to abduct her. He’d hitched his way out to the keep right after. How he’d found people willing to pick him up was a mystery to her.
“How’d he have these with him? Didn’t he lose all his baggage when the shaman stole his car?”
“He had an external drive tucked into his pocket. I printed the files that were on it.”
She nodded absently, deep in thought, still running her fingers over the papers. This was as close as she’d ever been to answers.
Broder moved past her, toward the door.
At the last moment, she caught him by the upper arm. His skin was hot and his upper arm was hard with muscle. The feel of him jolted her out of her distraction and centered her totally on him. “Thank you.”
He shrugged. “I hope you find what you’re looking for in there.”
“It’s as close as I’ll get to a real witch or shaman.” She paused. “Well, at least to one that doesn’t want to kidnap me.”
He grunted in agreement.
They stood in silence for a long moment, the semidarkness of the room wrapping around them and the fire crackling in the hearth.
She didn’t know why she did it; she only knew it was a bad idea. Still, she couldn’t stop herself. Rounding the side of his massive body, she came to a stop in front of him. Lifting one hand to cup his jaw, she ran her palm slowly around to the back of his head and then went up onto her tiptoes.
Her breath touched his lips for a moment. She savored those few heartbeats before she leaned in, the warmth of his body near hers and the scent of him filling her senses. Then her mouth touched his, soft at first, then harder.
Broder broke the kiss, staring down at her. She was about to back away when he cupped her cheek with his opposite hand. A part of her wanted to pull from his grip, but another part welcomed the heat of his skin on hers. She fought the urge, as she always did, to give i
n when Broder touched her. He was damned relentless, this man. Most men would’ve given up on her by now.
Rubbing his thumb down her cheek, he leaned in so near his breath stirred the fine hairs around her face. His mouth came close to hers and he nipped at her bottom lip, making her shiver. Moving in nearer, he kissed her, pulling her lower lip lazily through his teeth before slanting his mouth over hers and sliding his tongue into her mouth.
Her heart stuttered in her chest and her breath came quick and hard. Like everything about Broder, his kisses were a combination of fierceness and surprising tenderness. Lifting her hands, she touched his upper arms, feeling the tenseness and bulge of the muscles there as he moved. She slid her hands up his broad shoulders to his neck and felt the silky brush of his hair against her fingers.
