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Viking Warrior Rebel

Page 6

by Asa Maria Bradley


  Naya didn’t usually talk about her clients or their security plans, but she’d once let it slip that Holden liked high technology and spy equipment. His business often crossed over to the shadier side of the law, and he needed to keep himself and his club patrons safe. Astrid would bet a fair amount of money that he had trackers in his little arsenal of gadgets and had placed one on her car. Which would explain the trackers she’d often found on her car back in Pine Rapids. But that was something they could discuss later, when she’d also get the details about his “medical training.” Right now, she needed to find out how much he’d figured out about the wolverines.

  She touched the stitches, and his gaze returned to the wound as if pulled by magic. Astrid deliberately trailed her fingers higher up her leg.

  His Adam’s apple wobbled.

  She allowed a small smile of victory to grace her lips. So, she wasn’t the only one affected by this near-naked proximity. “These look great. I’ll probably only have a small scar.” She remembered making a tourniquet with her scarf because the wolverine had nicked her femoral artery. Her rapid healing abilities had fixed the damage before she bled out, just as she’d hoped. But that wound wouldn’t have closed without Holden’s stitches.

  Did Holden notice that the injury looked more healed than it should for just one day? She looked up and caught him scrutinizing her face, as if searching for a sign of something.

  Holden rocked back on his heels and stood. He walked over to the minibar and pulled out a bottle of orange juice, which he threw to her. She caught it before it bounced on the bed. The room was almost identical to her own. She’d checked out before she’d gone to pick up Scott and stashed all her weapons in a hidden compartment in her car. Hopefully, they were still there.

  “Drink,” he said without looking at her. “I got some fluids in you during the night, but you need more.” He walked toward the adjoining bathroom. “I’m grabbing a shower, and then we’ll talk.”

  She watched his retreating back while hazily remembering someone rousing her and forcing her to drink. She’d wanted to sleep, but that someone had nudged and cajoled until she’d swallowed the liquids. The voice had whispered endearments and called her things like “sweetie” and “darling.” Holden’s voice, she now realized.

  The shower turned on in the bathroom. Astrid scooted up in the bed and reclined against the headboard. Cracking the juice bottle open, she lifted it to her lips while deep in thought. This was going to be complicated and messy.

  By the time Holden sauntered out of the bathroom with a fluffy, white towel draped around his waist, Astrid had finished the juice and crawled back under the covers. She couldn’t find her clothes and wanted a shield between all that maleness and her own semi-nakedness.

  Holden’s towel hung low on his hips, threatening to fall down at any minute as he crossed the room to dig through a small carry-on case. She both hoped and dreaded that gravity would win. He fished out some underwear and another T-shirt. This one was dark blue. It would make his eyes look like the ocean at dusk. She knew, because he’d worn a shirt the same color the night they’d… Best not to go there with just the two of them in a room with a bed.

  Holden grabbed a pair of jeans and returned to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Less than a minute later, he returned fully dressed except for bare feet. Even though he was fully clothed, he still exuded sex as he walked toward her. Her mind flashed back to what it had been like to have the fullness of that hard body pressed against her. That one night in the club when she’d listened to what her body wanted. Holden. Hard. Inside her.

  It had been fantastic.

  So fantastic she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it for months. That scared the crap out of her. She forced the carnal thoughts away and watched him as he pulled up a chair beside the bed. “Okay,” he said, sitting down in the chair. “Tell me what the hell is going on. What is that creature I saw in the parking garage?”

  Freya’s cats. One of the wolverines must have come back for her. How was she going to spin this? She’d never had to explain to a regular person that weird creatures walked among them, able to kill them with a single blow. It wasn’t knowledge people would take well. How badly would Holden freak out?

  Possible explanations for the wolverine’s claws and black-void eyes flittered through her mind. None of them was plausible. “What creature?”

  Holden leaned forward, bracing himself with his elbows against his knees. “Don’t play dumb with me. You know exactly what I am talking about.”

  She wasn’t playing dumb. “I really don’t.” She was stalling.

  He laced his fingers together, looked down at the floor, and sighed heavily. “Astrid,” he growled. “I don’t have time for this.” He looked up and the storm of emotions swirling in his eyes made her breath catch. “He almost killed you.” He blinked, schooling his features into a familiar blank expression. The professional blandness Holden had greeted her with only a few days after they’d had the most intense sex she’d experienced had hurt more than she’d ever admit. She should have expected it, considering he’d disappeared in the middle of the night. She’d woken up in an empty bed in a strange, empty apartment. That blank look on Holden’s face had hurt then, and it did now.

  She couldn’t afford to go there. She inhaled deeply and dropped her shoulders as she breathed out. “Fine, what do you want to know?” After all, the man had probably saved her life. The least she could do was to tell him about the creatures he’d fought to keep her alive. No matter how badly he’d freak out.

  Her stomach growled loudly.

  Holden shot her a look and stood. “You need food.” He walked over to the dresser and grabbed a binder. Returning to the chair, he handed it to her as he sat down again. “Room service menu is on page ten.”

  Astrid held the folder in her lap but didn’t open it. “We could just go out for something.” Eating a meal while still in bed—and with him sitting beside her—would be too intimate. And going out would give her more time to figure out what to tell him.

  He shook his head. “Nope, we’ll eat here. You need some food in you now.” He tapped the folder. “Pick what you want.”

  She sighed but did what he asked. While he used the phone on the bedside table to call in her order of a double burger and fries, she studied his profile. He’d shaved while in the bathroom. The smooth skin of his jaw had a small nick just below the earlobe. She wanted to touch the spot to soothe it and had to curl her fingers to stop from reaching out. The berserker stirred again, but Astrid quickly lulled it back into sleep. Her attraction to Holden was freaky.

  When she and Holden had hooked up all those months ago, her inner warrior had been enthusiastic. More so than it usually was when Astrid had sex with someone. She’d thought it was because she’d overindulged a little when she fed off the sexual energy from the people on the dance floor. But could it be that the berserker wanted Holden?

  Nonsense. Astrid didn’t even like the man.

  Unaware of her mental analysis of their sexual history, or more accurately their one night together, Holden added his own food selection to their order and hung up. “Talk,” he demanded and sat back down in the chair.

  She didn’t know where to start. “How about you ask me what you want to know, and I’ll see if I can answer?”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Okay. What is that creature I saw in the parking garage, and why was it trying to kill you?”

  Astrid’s mind spun. She couldn’t endanger her warrior brothers and sisters, but she could probably spin the truth into something palatable for Holden. “I don’t know exactly what those creatures are, but I call them wolverines.”

  A tic pulsed in his jaws. “You’re using the plural. There are more of these freaks?”

  “I’ve seen a few.” As in, she used to see them all the time when she went on patrol outside the fortress. Then they di
sappeared for a while but came back in smaller numbers. And now they seemed to have remarkable healing ability and new acrobatic skills. Like they were wolverines, version 2.0. She really needed to get in touch with the warriors back home so she could tell them.

  Without somehow revealing that she’d lost Scott.

  She was so screwed.

  Holden sighed, got up, and retrieved another bottle of juice from the minibar. He handed it to her without comment and sat back down. This one was cranberry. “Look, I get that there are loads of information you don’t want to share. But can we cut the crap? Just share what you know.”

  Astrid cracked the juice bottle open. “I am sharing.” She took a swig of the bright-red liquid, hoping she wouldn’t spill any on the nice white sheets. How had Holden kept her from bleeding all over the linens? “Just ask me what you want to know.” That way she could censor each chunk of information more easily, and maybe his questions would show a pattern. Holden definitely had an agenda. His body betrayed him. He was too tense, too probing. This felt more like a debriefing than just him wanting to know about the creature he’d fought. Why would a nightclub owner interrogate her?

  “Fine.” Holden ran his hand through his hair. “Answer the second part of my question. Why are they trying to kill you?”

  This one would be a little trickier. A long explanation about the power struggles in the Norse gods’ council and Loki’s circumvention of the rule about not taking the gods’ battle to the human realm by instead sending wolverines seemed like a lot to lay on Holden all in one go. Plus, describing herself as an immortal sentinel fighting for Odin and Freya to keep humanity safe from Loki and his deranged plans might make Holden put her in a straitjacket.

  She drank from the juice bottle again and took her time swallowing. The tic in Holden’s jaw pulsed faster. Maybe he was able to control his physical reaction to her—which she so obviously struggled with, her nipples still hard—but she definitely got to him on some level.

  She looked down and fiddled with the cap on the bottle to hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “That’s a complicated story. I’m not sure if they wanted to kill me as much as capture me. I’m just good at fighting back.” She looked up.

  Holden met her gaze with an intense stare. He didn’t blink before firing the next question. “Why do they want to capture you?”

  “They want information.” She held up her hand when it looked like he was about to explode out of the chair. “Information I can’t give them and I can’t give you. It would endanger people I care about.”

  He sat back and studied her. “If these people are so concerned about keeping their secrets, why are you here on your own? Why aren’t they protecting you?”

  Good question. Although a better question would be: Why was she such a stubborn dumbass that she didn’t take someone with her instead of endangering herself and the queen’s brother? “They wanted to, but I…screwed up a few weeks ago, and I had to prove to them and myself that I could do this on my own.”

  His eyebrows shot up. Obviously he hadn’t expected her to admit to that weakness. She hadn’t expected to either, but it slipped out before she could stop it, and it was very much the truth. Somehow it was easier to admit this flaw to Holden than to her Norse brothers and sisters. Although she was pretty sure they were aware not only of her stubbornness, but also of how tightly she held on to her pride.

  “Is Daisy Driscoll one of those people?” He used the name of Naya’s fake identity. The one he’d known her by when she worked as his security consultant.

  “She’s a friend. That’s all you need to know.” Astrid kept her voice flat so no emotion would slip out. Let him interpret that statement as he wanted to. She would not betray her queen.

  He seemed to sense that questions about Naya were off-limits because he nodded. “Fair enough. But then tell me what your business here in Denver is.” She hesitated, and he leaned forward, putting his hand on top of hers. “Astrid, they almost killed you. Let me help you.”

  She shook her head and looked away in case the sudden burst of tears welling up in her eyes escaped. The blood loss had made her into an emotional mess.

  Trust whispered through her mind. The berserker again, but it didn’t come out of its slumber.

  “I have great resources.” Holden squeezed her hand. “Please, let me help you.”

  Could she risk taking him up on his offer? He seemed awfully eager to help. “What’s in it for you?” she asked.

  He looked away. “What do you mean?”

  “Why do you want to help so badly? What do you get out of this?”

  Holden stood and paced the room. “I care about you.”

  Her heart fluttered, but she ignored it. She already knew she couldn’t trust her hormones around Holden. Apparently other parts of her body were now betraying her too. “Bullshit. You hardly know me.”

  He turned, a wicked smile on his lips. “I would say I know you quite intimately.”

  Her whole body tingled, and heat pooled in her stomach before moving lower. She was glad she was under the covers so she could hide her body’s reaction. She forced her breathing to remain steady and quirked an eyebrow. “Can we keep this conversation serious?”

  His grin widened, but he nodded. “Alright, let’s just say that I have an interest in this since you’re a friend of Daisy’s.” Naya had worked with Holden before she met the king. Had there been something more than just a professional relationship between the two humans? The thought disturbed Astrid more than it should.

  The berserker suddenly woke fully from its slumber.

  Mine, it growled. An intense burst of anger flooded Astrid’s senses. Images of her fighting the queen invaded her mind. She struggled to keep her face from betraying the horrific thoughts flittering through her mind and the rage spreading through her body.

  She must not have been successful, because Holden frowned and took a step toward her. She held up her hand to stop him.

  A knocked sounded on the door. Saved by room service.

  As Holden turned, Astrid bolted out of the bed and slipped into the bathroom. She locked the door behind her and leaned her forehead against its cool wooden surface. What the fuck was going on?

  Chapter 6

  Luke checked the tray of food. Everything was exactly what they’d ordered, so he tipped the room-service guy and sent him on his way. Astrid was still in the bathroom, and he debated knocking on the door to see if she was okay.

  He replayed their conversation in his head to figure out what had upset her. He’d teased her about how close they actually were, at least physically. That’s when Astrid’s eyes had widened and all the color had drained out of her face. Did she feel sick all of a sudden? Hopefully it was the cranberry juice that didn’t agree with her. He’d hate to think the memory of them in bed made her physically ill.

  They’d also talked about Daisy Driscoll—Naya—but was that before or after Astrid’s strange reaction? If they were close friends, talking about the other woman shouldn’t upset her.

  He sighed. He’d probably never figure this out.

  Astrid kept so much information hidden from him that he didn’t even know how to start unraveling her secrets. If he wanted her to share, first he had to gain her trust, and Astrid didn’t seem to trust anybody. Maybe if their night together had ended better, they’d have a chance. As it was, that little fuckup would cost him. Instead of starting at zero and building from there, he was now setting off from a position of negative infinity.

  The shower turned on in the bathroom. He considered waiting for Astrid before eating, but he had no idea how long she’d be in there and his scrambled eggs would taste awful cold. He put Astrid’s burger plate on the dresser and took the tray and his two cell phones with him out onto the balcony. There were no new messages on his work phone, so he slipped that into his jeans’ pocket and tucked into his bre
akfast while scrolling through the emails on his alter ego’s phone.

  He’d been undercover so long that he felt like the two personas were starting to merge. It didn’t help that he’d kept his real first name, but that had been a conscious decision since he’d just come out of a different assumed identity. He’d react authentically to someone using his real first name in much less time than having to absorb a new persona with a new first name.

  He scrolled through the list of emails on Holden’s phone. None seemed urgent. Rex, the head of security at his club and his occasional bodyguard, had some problems with one of the liquor deliveries, but it had been taken care of and now everything was fine. Not that Luke had ever doubted it would be. Rex was responsible and efficient. In a different situation, the two of them would have been great friends. Rex probably thought they were, but he was friends with Luke Holden, not Luke Hager.

  Luke put the phone down and doused his eggs with more hot sauce. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the bathroom door open and glanced up to watch Astrid through the sliding glass doors.

  She glided into the room swathed in one of the hotel bathrobes. The white, fluffy terry-cloth should make her shapeless, but instead she looked like a sexy Amazon queen draped in royal cloth. Her hair flowed down past her shoulders in wet waves.

  She turned her head and locked gazes with him out on the balcony. That finally broke the trance he’d apparently succumbed to. He cleared his throat and put down the Tabasco bottle he was still holding midair. Gesturing toward her plate inside the room, he motioned that she should grab it and join him outside.

  Astrid cocked her head and gave him an odd look, but then headed toward her food. The robe flowed around her, and he wondered if she was naked underneath or had put underwear back on after the shower. The idea of the robe sliding unhindered against her smooth skin made his cock throb, and he had to adjust himself before sitting back down. Since the table was made of wrought iron, he positioned his napkin so it hid the evidence of his attraction. This mission was going to give him a bad case of blue balls.

 

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