A Restored Viking: Sveyn & Hollis: Part Two (The Hansen Series - Sveyn & Hollis Book 2)

by Kris Tualla

  *****

  The grounds of the Renaissance Faire were actually fascinating. All the buildings were permanent structures, built by the shop owners at their own expense.

  “We all had to have our products juried in and submit our building plans for approval,” explained a woman selling tapestries that were obviously machine-made. “Everything has to look period appropriate.”

  As a museum’s collections manager, Hollis found the idea intriguing. “So historical accuracy is second to convenience and pricing.”

  “Yep.” She winked. “Hey—a gal has to make a living.”

  Hollis wandered back outside where George and Matt were sipping beers in the shade. “Where’s Stevie?”

  “Restroom.” George flashed a rueful smile. “It’ll take a while with that dress.”

  Sveyn appeared at her side. “Did you know that people live in these little houses?” He pointed to the second story that most of the stores had. “There are apartments on top.”

  Hollis looked around, noticing for the first time that Sveyn was right—most had viable second levels. “So the shop owners live above their stores, apparently.”

  “They’d have to. There’s nothing else way out here.” Matt stood and turned to George. “I want to show Hollis that jewelry store. We’ll meet you for the tour.”

  As he led Hollis away from George, Matt whispered in her ear. “I just wanted some time alone with you.”

  Hollis smiled. “I wanted time alone with you too, to be honest.”

  Sveyn stepped back, out of sight. Thank you.

  “George and Stevie are perfect for each other.”

  Hollis looked to see if Matt was making a snarky comment. “They are, actually.”

  Matt nodded, his expression sincere. “Like you and me.”

  A jolt of joy zinged through her. “You think we’re perfect for each other?”

  “I always did. And then I wasn’t sure,” he admitted. “But now I know I was right in the first place.”

  Though the sentence was awkward, Hollis understood what Matt was trying to say. “I always thought we were right for each other.”

  He nodded. “I know you did. That’s why I was pretty confident when I showed up at the opening.”

  Hollis stopped walking.

  Matt swung around to face her. “What?”

  “What were you so confident of?”

  Matt stepped closer. “I was confident of what you felt for me two years ago. And you’re not a fickle woman, Hollis. When you love, you love with your whole heart.”

  That answer was more than acceptable. It was perfect. “I love you.”

  “And I love you.” Matt kissed her with enough intent to punctuate his statement. Then he pulled away and stared into her eyes. “I’m so glad I came to Phoenix.”

  Hollis sighed. “Me, too.”

  *****

  The backstage tour was even more fascinating than the grounds. Behind the historical façade of quaint shops, turkey-legs-and-ale food vendors, and costumed proprietors was a modern world of RVs, laundromats, showers, and trucks.

  “Most of the apartments don’t have plumbing because of the cost,” their guide explained. “So we have facilities back here for our vendors who live here for the two months that the Faire’s operating.”

  Matt pointed to a group of men in modern dress who were throwing a variety of ancient-look implements. “What’re they doing?”

  “Learning. Practicing.” The guide smiled. “Not much opportunity to toss a hammer in our modern world.”

  “Not one that looks like that, anyway,” Matt observed.

  Hollis shifted into historian mode. “It was called casting the barre back in King Henry the Eighth’s day. The handle is made of a hardwood like oak, and then the stone is strapped onto it. Or in Henry’s case, he actually designed cast iron heads for his.”

  The guide looked surprised. “Right.”

  Matt leaned in with a smile. “She works at a museum, remember.”

  “Okay, well.” The guide held out one arm. “Let’s go this way. We don’t want to get too close. Some of those guys are new.”

  *****

  When the tour ended an hour later, George and Stevie headed back inside the Faire. Hollis, however, had made a decision.

  “Go on without us. Matt and I need a minute.”

  “Is everything all right?” Stevie looked worried.

  “Everything’s fine, Stevie.” Hollis took Matt’s hand to add weight to her words. “We just need to discuss some plans, and sitting on these benches out here is quieter than inside.”

  “Oh.” Stevie’s expression shifted to happily conspiratorial. “You go right ahead and discuss those plans.”

  “And if we don’t see you later, I’ll see you Monday.”

  “Don’t worry about us. You enjoy your weekend, Hollis.” George took his fiancée’s arm and winked. “Maybe go car shopping.”

  Hollis laughed at the joke and walked to a bench under a desert tree that didn’t lose its leaves. Matt followed and sat beside her.

  “What’s up, Hollis?”

  “Well…” Her heart was pounding so hard she wondered if Matt could see it beating through her sweater. “I had a meeting with Mr. Benton yesterday.” When Matt didn’t react, she added, “The director of the museum.”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  Hollis cleared her throat. “We talked about what will happen when my contract expires at the end of February. Turns out, he’s pretty impressed with what I’ve done there.”

  Matt made a duh face. “Of course. And with good reason.”

  “Thanks. Anyway, I was able to negotiate a pretty sweet deal which caps me at forty hours a week—even with the ghost people.”

  “Cool.”

  Hollis hoped for more of a response, but powered on in spite of Matt’s lack of enthusiasm. “He’s also hiring Tom the intern as a full-time assistant registrar.”

  “Awesome.”

  Hollis waited to see if Matt would figure out what was on her mind.

  When she didn’t say anything, he asked, “Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

  “Yes. And then I wanted to ask what you thought I should do.” Be more specific, Hollis. “What we should do, I mean.”

  He looked confused. “We? It’s your job. Your decision.”

  “What I mean is…” Hollis pulled a steadying breath. “I’ll sign the contract if you’re willing to relocate to Phoenix. But not if you want me to move back to Milwaukee with you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Matt looked like she had just hit him with one of those stone hammers. “Hold on, Hollis. Let’s back this train up a minute.”

  Her brow plunged. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m—we—aren’t ready to make a decision like that.”

  Hollis shook her head in disbelief. “You’re getting a divorce—”

  “Which will take months,” he interrupted.

  She ignored him. “And you came to Phoenix specifically to ask me to get back together with you.”

  “That’s all true,” Matt admitted. Beads of sweat formed on his upper lip in spite of the cool and still cloudy day. “But we haven’t talked about anything beyond that.”

  Dread wound its claws around Hollis’s heart. “We are now.”

  “It—it’s too soon,” he stammered.

  “You said you loved me!”

  “And I do.” Matt jumped to his feet. “But that’s a huge leap from I love you to who’s going to relocate their career halfway across the country!”

  Hollis stood as well. “So what was your endgame, Matt? Why did you come after me?”

  “I wanted things to be like they were before.” His tone turned pleading. “Like when we were happy.”

  “You were happy, Matt,” Hollis clarified. “I was waiting.”

  How could he look confused—was he a complete idiot? “For what?”

  “For you to marry me, you ass!” Her hands turned t
o fists which she ached to use. “To buy a house! To raise a family!”

  Matt’s mouth flapped but no words came out.

  “Say something!”

  He looked frantic. “In—in time—”

  “Time! Time? Are you freaking kidding me?” Hollis leapt forward and punched Matt, hitting the arms he threw in front of his face. Then she punched him in the stomach, with all the power of her anger and pain pushing her fist deep into his belly.

  He fell to his knees, gasping.

  Hollis leaned over and screamed in his ear. “I never want to see you again! Ever!”

  As she walked away, he called after her. “Do you think the Captain is gonna marry you?”

  Hollis whirled around. “The ‘Captain’ is Sveyn! And you, Matt, are a damned fool!”

  *****

  Hollis spun back around. “Not a single word out of you Viking—do you understand?”

  “I am proud of you.”

  “I said not a single word and I mean it, damn you.” Tears flooded her eyes.

  “I am trying to compliment you.”

  “Well, stop!”

  Hollis tried to walk away from Sveyn, but he was always in front of her, blocking her way. She zigged to her left, then to her right. “Get out of my way!”

  “No.” Sveyn matched her path. “You need to calm down.”

  “Calm down?” Hollis swiped the gush of tears without clearing her view. “What you really want is for me to tell you you’re right!”

  “No, Hollis.”

  She tried again to get away from the Viking, zigging and zagging forward, but he was proving as stubborn as Norsemen were reputed to be. No matter her direction or her speed, she couldn’t get past him.

  “All right! I give up. I’ll say it.” She stopped and glared at him. “You were right. Matt was an ass before, and he’s still an ass. Happy now?”

  Sveyn tried to grasp her arms, but his hands passed through her flesh with a tingling shock. “Hollis, wait.”

  “Men don’t change,” she cried. “I get it!”

  A chorus of urgent shouts erupted behind Sveyn pulling both of their attention. The Viking turned on one furred boot to look behind him.

  The last thing Hollis saw was the hammer.

  *****

  She was surrounded by a pale gray fog. It didn’t feel like a fog, though. It felt like nothing.

  “Hollis?”

  She knew that voice. She slowly turned toward it.

  “Sveyn? What are you doing here?” No, that’s not the right question. “Where am I?”

  The Viking stepped forward. “You appear to be in my realm.”

  “Your realm? Did I die?” That’s not right, either.

  Sveyn didn’t die.

  “No, you are not dead. But at the moment you are not alive either.”

  “What happened to me?”

  “You were hit in the chest by one of those stone hammers. It stopped your heart.”

  Hollis stared at Sveyn. “Am I going to die?”

  He looked stricken. “I do not know.”

  A pure white light began to glow off to her side.

  “What’s that light?”

  Sveyn stepped in front of her. “Do you see a light?”

  She looked up at him. “Don’t you?”

  He shook his head. “I am still in your world. I see you lying on the ground with people trying to help you.”

  Hollis looked to her side again. The fog was growing darker, and the light brighter. “I wish you could see it. The light is so beautiful.”

  Sveyn tried again to block her view. “If you go to the light you will die, Hollis.” His voice cracked and drew her attention back to him. “And if you die, we will never see each other again.”

  I couldn’t bear that. “How do you know?”

  “I know.”

  Hollis watched in disbelief as tears rolled down the Viking’s cheeks. She reached up to wipe them away. “I can feel you Sveyn.”

  He laid his hand over hers. “And I can feel you.”

  She looked at the approaching light again. It was warm and enticing and she longed to go toward it.

  But she didn’t want to leave Sveyn. Ever.

  Why was this happening to her?

  “What should I do?” she mumbled.

  “Hollis, listen to me,” he urged. “There is not much time.”

  She reluctantly refocused her attention on Sveyn. “What?”

  He stared into her eyes, his gaze holding hers hostage. “I believe that the reason that I began to smell, and taste, and to be heard, and be seen, is the exact reason that I manifested to you.”

  She struggled to ignore the pulsating brightness beside her. “Because I’m a woman?”

  “Yes.” He lowered his face closer to hers. “Women bring forth life, Hollis.”

  His words jolted through her with palpable realization. “But how? How can I bring forth your life?”

  “I think you need to go back.” Sveyn lifted his hands in front of her face. “And I think you need to take me with you.”

  Hollis grabbed Sveyn’s hands. His long fingers wound tightly through hers just before a fierce, suffocating agony convulsed her chest.

  *****

  Chaos. Pain. Gasping for breath.

  Shouts. “Where did he come from?”

  Fog clearing.

  Eyes blinking.

  Faces hovering over hers. “Can you hear me?”

  Yes.

  “Can you say something?”

  “Yes.” Was that really her voice?

  Faces moving away from her and to her side.

  Bellows of pain like she had never heard before. But they weren’t coming from her.

  Hollis turned her head toward the horrific sounds.

  A living, bleeding Viking was writhing on the ground beside her.

  An excerpt from:

  A Modern

  Viking

  Sveyn & Hollis: Book Three

  A Paranormal

  Romantic Suspense Trilogy

  in The Hansen Series

  Chapter One

  Saturday

  January 9

  Sveyn Hansen inhabited his body for the first time in nine hundred and fifty years and it hurt like hell. His first breath set his lungs on fire. The fabric of his clothing sandpapered his skin. Blood gushed from the gash in his side.

  Shouting and chaos swirled around him and threatened to drown him.

  “Hey! Where’d this guy come from?”

  “I don’t know, but he’s been stabbed and he’s bleeding pretty badly.”

  “Is she stable?”

  She?

  Hollis.

  She did it.

  “She’s getting there. Call for another unit for her and take this guy in now.”

  The pressure on his gut felt like an anvil. A clear cup was strapped over his mouth and nose. Sveyn tried to push it away, afraid he would suffocate.

  “Easy, buddy.” The man’s voice was calm and near his head. “Just breathe.”

  Sveyn gasped. Whatever was in the cup was cool and soothing to his burning chest. He focused on breathing in, then breathing out. Willing his body to remember what to do.

  “What’s your name?”

  Sveyn forced air through vocal chords too-long dormant and managed to create a rough but audible sound.

  “Sveyn.” Breathe. “Hansen.”

  “Sveyn—do you know who stabbed you?”

  How could he answer that? “He’s…” Breathe. “Dead.”

  “Where?” The voice sounded startled.

  Sveyn closed his eyes. He couldn’t explain it so there was no point in wasting what energy he had.

  He could feel his heart beating. The rhythm was crazily erratic at first and even though it still surged painfully against his ribs the pace was settling down.

  “He’s shocky. Let’s get a move on.”

  Hands gripped him like vices and Sveyn knew he must be bruised by their excruciating streng
th. He was lifted and set down again. Then the platform he was laid on popped upward. He moaned with every touch, every jolt, and every movement that caused his shirt or pants to shift.

  This was not what I expected.

  Sveyn turned his head to look for Hollis. She was still on the ground where he last saw her. And though she was awake and talking to the men in dark blue uniforms, her eyes were fixed on him.

  *****

  He’s alive. Sveyn is alive.

  Hollis’s chest felt like it was hit by a hammer—which it had been. A medieval stone hammer, thrown by a Renaissance Faire trainee. A hammer into whose path she stumbled when she was crying hysterically and arguing with Sveyn.

  Arguing about Matt.

  “What’s your name, miss?” a paramedic asked as a grunting and groaning Sveyn was loaded into the ambulance.

  Thank you, God.

  She drew a breath to push her words past the oxygen mask but ended up coughing weakly, her chest in agony. She moved her hand and rested it over her heart.

  “You’re in pain because you were hit in the chest and your heart stopped. We used the defibrillator to start it again.” A kind smile hovered over her face. “Both of those things do hurt, I’m afraid.”

  She moaned her agreement and moved her hand to her head.

  “Does your head hurt?” The paramedic pulled a tiny flashlight from a pocket under the embroidered words Paul Saxon, EMT. “Look at the light for me.”

  Hollis focused on the penlight while the medic flashed it in both of her eyes. “You do have a concussion. Not surprising with the flat fall you took.”

  Tears started to leak from the edges of her eyes.

  “Don’t cry, miss. You’re going to be fine in a few days.” Paul smiled again. “Can you tell us your name?”

  She tried to inhale enough to answer, but couldn’t.

  “Hollis McKenna.”

  Hollis’s gaze moved past the paramedics to where her asshole of a once again ex-boyfriend was answering for her. “Her name is Hollis McKenna and she works at the Arizona History and Cultural Center.”