The Valkyrie's Guardian

by Moriah Densley

  “Angel sveta?”

  Cassie’s head whipped around and her gaze locked on the child, who covered his mouth as though he shouldn’t have dared speak. “Vse spokojno, moi milyi,” she purred, and Jack wondered how he didn’t know she spoke Russian.

  Jack could hardly breathe through the static in the air, and the potpourri of charred smells didn’t help. Krav writhed, face-down on the ground. Cassie staggered back, heaving. She doubled over and retched, then crept back toward Krav. He didn’t try to stand and defend himself, but Jack felt the familiar stirrings of Krav’s power, like being blown sideways by a gust of wind, but without the wind. At the same moment, the child screamed and threw his head back. He arched his back and shrieked, slamming his head into the ground. As abruptly as he began the kid quit. He lay motionless, breathing evenly as though nothing had happened. Weird.

  The last time Jack had encountered Krav, it had been from a distance. Eight years ago in Brazil, he had smelled the same stench. Jack had seen what the extra-sentient could do. Krav had altered the flow of a Marañon River tributary and broken a dam. He’d flash-flooded Kyros’ academy while Merodach attacked. Jack assumed a similar stunt had caused the landslides here, but this was on a much bigger scale.

  Low rumbling shook the ground, the source was the top of the cliff towering over them. The first time Jack had felt that gravity-stretching pull, he’d thought his blood sugar had crashed, making him dizzy. Now he knew it was a five-second avalanche warning.

  Cassie nudged Krav onto his back with her foot.

  “Shalava,” he spat, showing bloodied teeth and a swollen tongue.

  “Goret’ tebe s adu,” Cassie spoke with a flat tone, wishing him to hell in the crudest terms possible. She pinned his head with her foot and bent down. Jack felt her energy throbbing, magnifying, heard thunder clapping in sympathy. Her pointed fingers raised over Krav’s chest, blue sparks of electricity shot from her fingertips —

  “Chudovishche!” the kid wailed in a hoarse voice, clutching his head.

  Ear-splitting cracking, unnatural thunder, earthquake vibrations came from every direction. Jack meant to snatch Cassie and the kid and run before Krav’s landslide hit the ground, but rocks already rained down around them. Jack darted to the kid and scooped him up with one arm, ignoring the tiny cries of agony. He dodged a cow-sized boulder but got beaned in the head with a smaller rock. Blood ran into his eyes as he made his way to Cassie, hunching his shoulders to keep flying shards from hurting the kid.

  Strange, but the sight of Cassie finishing Krav hardly affected him. The man was evil. A child killer. Jack would have done it if she hadn’t, although he doubted the devil could’ve matched Cassie’s punishment. Her blue lightning sent Krav to hell as she promised. She’d started a small fire, but it didn’t matter now — water was coming. Lots of it.

  Jack skidded to a halt as a downhill flood of debris jammed against a row of trees to his left. The trunks groaned against the pressure, threatening to give way. Dirty water spilled over the cliff, and the earth around it dissolved in chunks then sheets, rushing a wall of mud in their direction. Two boulders crashed together overhead, and Jack dropped then rolled to avoid the shower of shrapnel.

  The kid whimpered at being handled like a football, and Cassie turned to see why he’d made the sound. Jack saw her blink as he fought his way to her side, and finally he heard the beautiful sound of her mind, cleared from her rage. She registered the danger and let him toss her over his shoulder. Jack scrambled out of the way as the tree line on the left was mowed down by a fresh wave of rocks and mud. He kicked away one boulder blocking his path and leaped atop another to avoid a mess of loose rocks sweeping past in the flood.

  Krav was dead, but the landslide already set in motion would bring the mountain down on top of them. Each step sank him to the knee in mud, the raging water already a foot high, slowing his pace to a labored trot. The only way out was down, but Jack couldn’t seem to pull ahead of the hailstorm of rocks. His attention was consumed with dodging missiles, climbing over them or pushing them aside. One false move and Cassie would be pulverized. He didn’t have his hands free, and the mud dragged him in slow motion while the flood swept him downhill.

  Jack, look.

  He looked where Cassie pointed, a shallow canyon to his right, flanked by a crop of trees on a hill which rose above the flood. The canyon swallowed the flood debris, leaving the hill behind it unscathed. He fell twice as he battled against the flow to reach the canyon. A log rammed into his knee. It jarred his bones, tearing an agonized howl from his throat. He managed not to drop his cargo. His next step nearly toppled him, and he realized something was wrong with his leg. He forced himself to move anyway, ignoring the white-hot pain searing down his shin and up his thigh.

  Cassie cursed, Damn it Jack, hold still! He felt her trying to mend it.

  Only thirty feet to the canyon. The mud churned around his waist. Rising too quickly. He palmed Cassie’s backside to slide her sideways across his shoulders, safely away from the torrent.

  Twenty five feet.

  Jack, stop! Your knee is blown out. Let me fuse the bone and reconnect —

  Nineteen feet was a bitch and fifteen hurt like hell.

  Cassie choked on a sob, and Jack realized he was dumping his pain into her thoughts. He clamped his mind shut and focused on the near side of the canyon. He jumped to dodge a Prius-sized boulder knocked loose by the flood. He came down only five feet from the edge of the canyon, so close to his goal. He tried to land on his good leg but lost his balance in the current and fell backward into the torrent.

  His instincts took over, and even as he gulped a mouthful of mud, he hoisted Cassie in one arm and the kid in his other, keeping them out of the flood. Jack wrestled himself back to his feet, and the moment he regained his balance, he coiled and jumped.

  Cassie sucked in a breath. The kid tensed and clung like a freaked out cat. Jack hurled his momentum forward, past the edge of the canyon, across the thirteen feet spanning the chasm where the river of mud and debris tumbled in an ugly waterfall. Jack cleared the space and tucked as the ground rushed into view. He swung his shoulders to steer his load into a patch of low brush.

  He caught the ground, tucked in a crouch. His brain jolted with a scream of pain the same time he heard a disgusting popping sound. He hugged the two small bodies to his chest as he rolled, absorbing the impact of the fall. He came to a stop, thanks to the sturdy tree cradling his tailbone. Jack opened his eyes to see a stormy sky. He heard three hearts beating, three mouths drawing breaths. Victory.

  All color leeched from his vision, then all light. Sound was the last to fade, and he heard faintly, “Geroj? My spaseny.”

  • • •

  Good thing Jack still lay unconscious, because there was no way he could stand what she did to repair his leg without a rhinoceros dose of Dilaudid. She’d only seen such a severely injured knee once before, in Los Angeles’ USC emergency room. A teenage gang-banger had his kneecaps blown out with a shotgun at point-blank. The damage to Jack’s knee looked similar, but worse for being covered in mud. Hardly ideal conditions for surgery. Earlier she had dived out of the bushes to chase Krav, leaving behind a very handy medical kit. Damn it.

  She fused the bone fragments and mended the shredded cartilage as best she could, but every moment her frustration grew. His pulse staggered, erratic at best. She cauterized the bleeding but couldn’t do much about the swelling, and some of his tendons needed surgical reattaching. His body temperature plunged below ninety-five degrees, a seven-degree dip for him. She cursed and patted his pockets, desperate for some kind of radio or phone, knowing it was unlikely any electronic device had survived the flood.

  The boy also slept, though his rest was peaceful. His bones had healed easily. Cassie had swallowed her rage as she knitted the soft bones of his legs, cruelly snapped in half at the shin.
Deep breaths soothed her anger, and his hapless smile peeking from a mop of shaggy hair had helped. This child was important, and Cassie was dying to know why.

  She kept herself busy, because anything was better than confronting what had happened to her back there in the forest with Krav. Alien-looking blue trails laced her forearms under her skin, the result of channeling the lightning through her veins — her best guess, but she didn’t really want to think about it. The burn mark precisely the shape of her hand on the side of Jack’s neck didn’t help.

  They could be a few miles or a dozen from Jack’s team, but it didn’t matter since she couldn’t recognize any landmarks from her vantage point. She hoped the SEALs had retreated safely. Did anyone search for Jack? They had to notice she was gone too. Were there casualties, men suffering who needed her help? Was it too late? She prayed none of them died, but it only made her giddy with anxiety.

  Cassie crawled past the trees to the crest of the hill, agitating the weird assortment of birds gathered around Jack, like he was Sleeping Beauty or something. She glanced down the side of the hill. It was steep, but better than risking the flooded ground. The tempest had settled, and it looked like a war zone. The mud alone would swallow her up to her shoulders, or worse.

  If she didn’t make contact within a half hour, she decided she’d load Jack onto her shoulders and take her chances with the hillside. It was the least she could do after what he’d sacrificed to save her and the boy. No way could she have gotten out. Jack forded a landslide, went one-on-one with a moving mountain and won.

  Jack confused immortality with invincibility, far too reckless — and heroic — for his own good. Her greatest fear was that she’d outlive him. The idea seemed all wrong.

  Nagging her mind was the whole futility of the operation. Krav had baited them to the ranger station with the smoke, distracted them with the guards, then ambushed them with a large force. Neither she nor Jack had heard a whisper of thought from the soldiers even as they practically landed on top of them. That in itself was a royal disaster. The extra-sentient boy was linked somehow, but Cassie had been too busy frying Krav to interrogate him for information. Kyros wouldn’t thank her for that. And she wished more than anything he was here.

  Jack’s blood pressure tanked over the next four minutes. His fingers cooled, and his entire body started to shake. Great, now he was going into shock. Cassie lowered herself onto his chest and grasped his shoulders, willing her body to warm his, although she shivered in her wet clothes too. On impulse, she kissed his still lips. They were cold. That frightened her even more, so she kissed him until his mouth was warm, but it didn’t help any more than anything else she tried.

  Kyros! she wailed, wishing he were here. Help! Please, Jack needs you.

  Then she thought to call for Chief Hanson. Even the slightest odds that he was near enough would be worth the risk of alerting any lingering enemies. She was so colossally pissed right now, she would love to meet up with Krav’s goons. The bastards. She’d only waited ten minutes, but she was through waiting.

  How to lift Jack without damaging his knee further? Should she try to wake him, so he could fight off the coma he was fast slipping into? Those stupid birds made a commotion when she decided to heft him into a fireman’s carry across her shoulders. She wrapped her arm around his knee to hold him in place, and he jolted awake with a 130-decibel gut shout, right in her ear. That answered her question about the coma. No danger there.

  Sorry Jack. You’re in bad shape, and I need to get you back to base.

  It took him three tries to put his thoughts into words. Damn, just kill me now! Seriously, I can’t handle it, never been in this much pain.

  All I need is a scalpel and needle, and you’ll be good as new in a year or two. Provided you don’t limp the rest of your life, however many centuries it proves to be.

  Apparently his brain couldn’t process humor yet, because he panicked, twisting to get out of her grip. Cassie subdued him the fastest way she could in this position, by sliding her hand between his legs and making a fist. He went completely still.

  I believe I have you by the balls, Jack.

  Nothing new, he groused.

  It was very sweet of you to blow out your knee for me, baby. But you absolutely cannot walk. Put up with it.

  I’d rather you dragged me. By the balls. Couldn’t hurt more than this.

  Big baby. Her voice sounded soft and girly.

  The boy shook himself awake. He startled and shrank back before he realized the absence of danger. His mindshield snapped into place and she felt the little slap. Feisty, shaggy little thing. “Angel sveta? Geroj, moy gyeroy?”

  “Who’s Gary?” Jack ground his teeth, and Cassie knew she needed to get underway so Jack could distract himself from the blood running to his head. Not to mention what he reported as the worst pain of his life. “’Course my Russian sucks, but that’s spooky.”

  “You. Geroj. It means hero, warrior, champion — something like that.” Cassie picked her way down the slope, feeling like a goat packing a gorilla. The boy followed silently. His pace quickened as he discovered he had no pain in his legs.

  “And what’s your Russian nickname?”

  “He’s calling me light angel. That’s more complimentary than what I would call it.”

  “You’re a valkyrie, Cass.” She opened her mouth to deny it and he argued, “Augmented strength. Lightning weapon. Chronic PMS … ”

  She stepped wrong on a rock and danced sideways to avoid toppling over, and Jack gasped at the pressure on his leg. Good timing.

  “I’d only heard of valkyries, didn’t think they existed. You’re definitely one.”

  “It could have been Krav. Or it could have just been a storm. It thundered all morning.”

  “I’ve felt your weird static energy growing for a while. You’ve gotten stronger. And most of all, you’re prone to rages, just like me.”

  “Ho-no, Jack. No one’s quite like you. And I’m not that bad.”

  “There’s a juicy little scandal in the Noyon family tree, because one of your ancestors mated with a ‘Child of Odin.’ Hey — ladies can’t resist us Viking men.”

  “Why now? It’s never happened before.”

  “It seems you’re provoked by the threat of evil. And your powers are maturing. You’re only twenty-one, right on schedule — ”

  Unusual for Jack to clam up, even when in pain. In fact, pain usually made him ramble more. “What, Jack?”

  “Well, it just occurred to me. Our, um … ”

  “Insane sexual attraction?” She avoided using the ‘r-word.’ Men ran for the hills the moment a woman said relationship.

  “Yeah. That’s what’s causing it.”

  “Biology. That’s all?” Certainly nothing so manageable as love.

  “I’m a berserker, you’re a valkyrie. Adam and Eve on steroids.”

  “Na kakom yazyke mne govorit’?” came a raspy little voice. Cassie looked down to see bright black eyes peering through strings of dirty hair. The boy wanted to know which language to speak, at least she thought that’s what he meant. He used round-about phrasing and spoke in third person.

  “English,” she told him. “I’m Cassie, this is Jack.”

  “Big baby. PMS,” the kid answered, and Jack coughed.

  “What’s your name?” Cassie said gently, trying not to scare him.

  “Settle down, victory-women, never be wild and fly to the woods. Be as mindful of thy welfare, as is each man of eating and of home.” His scratchy young voice sounded creepy in monotone.

  Jack snorted. Cassie, you picked up a stray lunatic.

  “What we observe as material bodies and forces are nothing but shapes and variations in the structure of space.”

  “Schrodinger,” Cassie answered, warning Jack to silence with a s
queeze on his shoulder. “You like physics? Quantum theory?”

  “Sixty-five degrees Celsius. Eighteen-point-three Fahrenheit. Adam and Eve. Steroid: organic compound, contains four cycloalkane rings. Anabolic steroid abuse can cause premature balding and testicular atrophy.”

  “Ah, thank you.” Cassie forced herself not to scowl.

  What’s wrong with him?

  No clue. He’s not socialized, but he is educated. You know what happens to extra-sentients who are abused. Don’t antagonize him, okay?

  Saintly mood coming my way. Can’t you do anything for the pain? I’m dyin’, Cass.

  The gods took pity on Jack, because no sooner than he complained, they heard the beautiful sound of rotor blades. The Seahawk came into view moments later, circling over the ridge to the northwest, clearly in a search pattern. Cassie set Jack on the ground none too gently and scrambled up a crop of rocks to wave for attention. She cursed her camo gear, then remembered her bra was red. She had it off and waving, with her BDUs back on in record time.

  Fortunately the red satin caught the weak rays of sunlight. Cassie could tell the moment the Seahawk pilot spotted her, he veered east and looped around. She figured Chief wouldn’t freak out if she sent him a mental signal.

  Chief Hanson, I have Jack and the hostage.

  She heard him jump and whack his head on the rigging. He cursed out loud with the creativity only natives of Brooklyn could manage.

  Sorry Chief, but it’s an emergency.

  He felt stupid doing it, but tried to think in dialog, assuming she could hear, There’s no place to land, and I need to get the casualties back to base. Can you use a ladder?

  Yes. I’ll bring the others here, give me a minute. She released Chief, the sensation like hanging up the phone. Cassie scrambled back down the rocks, her heart pounding. She tried to hold back panic. Casualties. A sterile word for a horrific matter. She prayed none were dead.