“Hey.” Min slapped his palm against the back of the driver’s seat, interrupting a tirade about how much it sucked to be the designated driver. “Pull over. I need to take a leak.”
“Are you kidding me? Hold it.”
“I tried, man. Pull over, or I’ll wet the seats.”
The car drifted to the side of the road. “Hurry. I’m tired,” the driver barked. He had a name, but Erek could never remember it. Save for a couple close teammates, most of these guys were Private to him.
Min stumbled a few meters away from the shoulder, far enough to be out of falling water ear range, and waited a few seconds before calling, “Aw, fuck. I pissed on my shoes.” He was prepared to actually do so, if needed, but he was hoping the threat would be enough.
“What? Fucking moron.” The irritation in the driver’s voice was sharp and potent. “I don’t want your piss-covered shoes in my car.”
“You can’t leave me here.” Min hoped they’d do exactly that.
The rear car door slammed shut. “Can and am. Enjoy the walk back to base, piss-shoes.” The vehicle pulled away.
That actually worked? Min smiled in the darkness. Now, he’d wait. Aside from cutting through fields, this was the only road back to campus. If he hung out here, Kirby would be along soon. It was a reckless idea, but Erek did stupid shit like this on a regular basis, especially for pussy. It was the main reason he was a grunt—he had top scores in handgun marksmanship and observation, but he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants, and he didn’t try to hide it.
Half an hour passed, and there was no sign of Kirby. If he headed into town to look for her, he ran the risk of missing her. But he wasn’t sitting out here all night waiting.
WHEN A HAND CLENCHED around Kirby’s throat, pinning her to the wall, she gasped with already-short breath.
Davyn? She stared into the haunting gaze of the berserker. Her mind ticked through options to break free of his grip. His reach was longer than hers. He had her on the tip of her toes, so she didn’t have any leverage in her feet. He was using a single hand. She could drive her arm into his and risk breaking her own.
“Whoever you are, I don’t have what you want,” she croaked.
His grin was two terrifying rows of teeth. He’d let enough bear out to increase his muscle mass and bulk. “You know exactly who I am. I’d love your life, in exchange for the one you tried to take.”
Fuck. Because Brit had been sent to kill Azzie. “I never intended to take that shot.” Kirby sank into Brit’s memories, the way Min had advised her.
“I want your life, but I can’t take it until I have something more important,” he growled. “I want Loki.”
“Take a number?” Kirby could play games. Pretend he was asking for a fictional person. But he’d picked her for a reason, and too much taunting would earn her a crushed windpipe. She filled her lungs with as much air as she could, lifted her feet off the ground to kick off the wall, and aimed a foot at his gut.
He let go, to step out of reach.
She landed on the ground, rolling into the fall to charge forward instantly. There weren’t a lot of soft targets on Davyn, and the big ones were around center mass. A blow to his diaphragm or balls would suit her fine.
He sidestepped and slammed an elbow into her back.
Stars danced in front of her eyes. The asshole was faster than she remembered. “I can’t give you anything.” She should reason with him. At least long enough to catch her breath. “You walk onto that campus, and they’ll shoot you on sight.”
“You can give me something. You can get me close to him.” He lunged for her again.
Kirby needed to evade as much as possible. Brit couldn’t take on a berserker. Even on a good day, with access to everything-Valkyrie, Kirby would struggle. “How?”
“You’ll walk me through the front gate.”
Laughing was the worst possible idea right now. She needed to take this fight off the streets. If some well-meaning person came along and tried to help the little lady in distress, Davyn would pulverize them.
Brit probably wouldn’t handle the situation this way, but he didn’t know that, and Kirby was holding onto mental control for this fight. “You missed the part about being shot on sight,” she said.
“I’ll take my chances.” His jaw and nose shifted, and he dropped onto all fours, leaning closer to bear.
Shit. She definitely didn’t want anyone coming along now. With her next evasion, she angled herself toward a nearby alley. “I’m not talking about a single bullet. They’ll rain assault-rifle rounds down on you until you stop.”
“You’re stalling.”
“I’m being honest.” One more step, and they’d be off the street.
Davyn roared and leaped past her, blocking her path. His backhand was more paw than hand, slamming into her chest and scraping claws across her arm enough to let the blood flow freely. “Don’t try to corral me.”
That broke a rib or two. Fuck. She wasn’t getting her breath back for a little while. This had to stop. “Ill is it to leave the right undone.” Words from Kirby’s first life. A berserker prayer, spoken before battle. A phrase that was as much hers as Starkad’s back then.
“Where did you hear that?” Davyn paused, but his body was still coiled, as if to spring at any moment.
Every inhale made her grit her teeth. “I don’t want Azzie dead.” Would Brit know the woman’s name? Her association to Davyn? Yes. She’d hunted them.
“Bullshit. You were sent to kill her. I tracked you for days after, until you vanished. Tell me. Where. Did. You. Hear that phrase?”
If she told Davyn who she was, she might be able to convince him. She knew things about him that no one else alive had ever seen. But the risk of consequence for revealing herself to anyone was too high. “If I tell you that, they’re not going to let me back on campus, either. I’m no good to you that way. I’ll tell you how to get in without going through the front gate, but you have to promise not to do it without me.”
Davyn’s smile was all teeth. “You can barely breathe. You’re not in a position to negotiate.”
“This isn’t a matter of give and take. It’s reality.”
“It’s convenient bullshit. As soon as I let you go, I lose this chance. You stumbled into my path. I’m not giving up this opportunity.” At least he wasn’t attacking any more. Some of his more beastly features were retreating, but the bear stayed near the surface.
Gods, she missed Starkad. “Fine. Waterside of the school, there’s a spot on the beach...” She gave him specific instructions. “But hear me out before you decide to use it, because my way is safer.” The pain was easing in her chest. Wow, this fast-healing thing of Brit’s wasn’t bad. It wasn’t as good as Kirby’s, but still...
“You’re talking a lot, for someone who doesn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, yeah. Call Starkad. Tell him everything that just happened. Meet me back here in one week, and I’ll get you an audience with Loki.” Could Kirby meet that deadline? She had no idea. But Starkad would explain things to Davyn, and that should buy her some time.
His growl was still part-bear, part-human. “If I don’t like what he has to say to me, I’ll find you again. I know you’re here.”
“I swear to you in Týr’s name, I’m giving you as much as I’m able.” If Hel were still here, she’d have Brit’s head, for invoking a god who wasn’t associated with TOM.
“Do you truly know what that oath means?”
Kirby nodded. Honor in battle. Honor in death. Honor above all else.
“All right,” Davyn said. “One week, unless I don’t like what Starkad has to say.”
Relief coursed through Kirby, as she watched him walk away. TOM soldiers might not respect the old traditions, but at least someone did. Please let him still be the same bear I knew, so long ago.
The Brit part of her argued that she’d made a massive fucking mistake.
Chapter Twenty-One
Min found Kirby
a few blocks from the bar, sitting on the sidewalk with her back up against an empty storefront.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Her greeting was tired.
He knelt in front of her. Fading bruises on her neck, as if she’d been choked, glared at him. Concern sped through him, and he brushed his fingers gently over the marks. “What happened?”
“You first. You’re jeopardizing everything by being here.” Kirby closed her hand around his. Her touch was warm and firm. Familiar and right.
Her condition reinforced his desire to be here, by her side. “I pretended to pee on my shoes. Driver wouldn’t let me back in the car.” Erek was smug over the simplistic plan.
Her smile reaching her eyes was worth the story. “How long before they ask where you are?”
“Your turn. What happened? Wait. Hold that thought.” He headed down the nearby alley and checked a side door. Locked. He gripped the knob, pressed toward the opposite side of the frame, and leaned his shoulder into the door. It gave after a second shove.
He returned to scoop Kirby into his arms.
“I can walk just fine.” Despite her protest, she draped her arms around his neck. “You’re lucky you didn’t trigger any alarms.”
“I’m hoping my luck runs a little longer.” He carried her inside the empty shop. Newspaper covered the front windows, and dust coated the floor and the sheets draped over cases. He set her on her feet, yanked a drop cloth off a steel counter, and lifted her to sit. “Talk to me.”
She scrubbed her face. “I ran into an old friend of Kirby’s. I can’t tell you much more, without it being dangerous to Erek, but my ribs are healed now, so I’m doing much better.”
“Ribs?”
“He’s a berserker. Please don’t ask more. Why are you here? Not that I’m complaining. I’m so glad you’re nearby, even when we can’t talk, but...”
He grasped her fingers. The last few months apart vanished in here. He knew why she’d sent him away. There was no longer any question. This wasn’t the time to discuss it, but his need to be close to her was overwhelming. “I’m here to protect you.”
“I don’t...” She laughed lightly. “That’s sweet.”
“You don’t need me watching over you. I realize that.” He kissed her fingertips. Worship her. Urd’s voice, words he’d forgotten for centuries, echoed in his head. “But last time I watched you die, I swore it would be the very last. I have to try.”
Kirby rested her hand on his cheek. “I hate seeing you in this face. Hate hearing your words in someone else’s voice.”
“As soon as we’re done, we can go back to being us.” He didn’t hate looking at Brit’s face, but he would show more hesitation if he couldn’t see past the surface, to the real person underneath. Inspiration struck. “Close your eyes.”
She did as commanded.
He stripped off his shirt, folded it, and tied it in place as a blindfold. Her playful smile and the way she brushed her fingers over the cotton, tugged at his desire and amplified his need to feel her.
The kiss from the bar hovered at the front of Min’s mind, pushing him to claim her mouth. Her moan against his lips was intoxicating. The connection tugged at centuries of love and desire, but the feelings filtered through the lens of Erek. Min dove deeper into the kiss, tangling his tongue with Kirby’s. Devouring the spice of the moment.
This wasn’t the first time he’d been intimate in a different body, but he’d never tasted this flavor of passion. This burning need to be part of another person.
He dragged his fingers up her spine, shoving her shirt out of the way in the process, and dipped his head to cover her stomach in kisses. To lick up to her breasts, along the top of her bra.
This was forbidden. Against the rules. Sex had never been forbidden for Min before.
He fumbled to undo her jeans and shoved them to the ground.
Kirby giggled when the clothing got caught on her boots. “Shoes come off first.”
“I knew that.” Min did. Erek had forgotten, in his eagerness to taste this gorgeous woman. It was such a pure, raw sensation. He trailed his tongue along her thigh, as he bent to unlace her boots. “Step out.”
Kirby rested her hands on his shoulders for balance, as she stepped out of each shoe. She was barely upright when he stood, gripped her hips, and lifted her onto a nearby countertop.
He yanked her bottoms off the rest of the way, not caring where they landed, and knelt at her feet. Min wanted to give her immeasurable pleasure. Erek was hungry to bury his face between smooth thighs and taste her.
He dragged his tongue up her slit. Her groan was the perfect reward. He dove in with enthusiasm, licking and sucking. Memorizing the flavor of her juices on his tongue. Nibbling her clit until she squirmed. Sliding two fingers inside her and pumping, until she came, knotting her fingers in his hair and holding him in place to grind against his face.
Min pulled away when Kirby’s shudders of pleasure slowed. Desire as a mortal was unique. His erection dug into his zipper as he stood. His pulse hammered in his ears, and his heart against his ribs.
He crushed his mouth to Kirby’s again, falling into the softness of her lips and the hunger in her kisses. Her enthusiasm matched his, as they shared her flavor. Her energy sang underneath it, showing him her soul, rather than her body. Letting him experience everything that was Kirby.
If he were himself, he’d have poetic words. “I need to fuck you.” Not flowery, but honest and effective.
She made quick work of his zipper, and his anticipation spiked when she wrapped her hand around his shaft to free him.
He shoved between her legs without further fanfare, and thrust inside her. That first penetration was heaven, her heat drawing him in.
She wrapped her legs around his ass, setting a fast pace he was happy to match. Her slick warmth drew him to the edge of climax within moments, and he lost himself in the sensations. Pounding. Slamming inside her. Experiencing everything at once.
He came hard, the night sky exploding behind his eyelids. It was over too soon. He wanted to keep feeling Kirby.
He kept up the pace until his cock started to soften, then slowed to a stop, planting his hands against the counter on either side of her, to stay upright.
Min didn’t know how long he stood there, Kirby wrapped around him, their breathing the only sound keeping them company in the abandoned shop.
“We need to get back to campus.” Her voice was reluctant.
She was right, but he wasn’t ready to go yet.
Kirby nudged his shoulders to push him back. “We’ve already been missed. I’d love to stay here forever, but we can’t.”
“I know.” His reply was heavy. An ache grew in his chest at the thought of walking away from her. It wasn’t as though he’d never see her again, but that tiny little voice saying he’d lost her too many times was reluctant to walk away from her tonight.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kirby clung to the stolen time with Min, burning it into her heart as she walked back to campus. It wasn’t a resolution in their relationship—they had a more roads to cross for that—but the connection... She’d missed having that with him.
As she drew within sight of the front gates, a spotlight came on, blinding her and sending her stomach into her shoes.
“Sergeant Brit. Lie on your stomach on the ground, arms on the back of your head and legs spread.” The command blared over a loudspeaker.
She dropped to the pavement without hesitation. This was the reception she expected when she first came back. Why now? Her pulse hammered in her ears. Was Min here? The reckless night may have fucked them twice.
“Do not move.” Bossy fucking voice.
Two pairs of boots moved into her field of vision, but she heard additional footsteps and had no doubt at least three guns were trained on her from a distance.
Another boot landed in the small of her back. Her hands were jerked back, jarring her shoulders.
She was yanked to her feet, and a
bag was roughly shoved onto her head, blocking her view. The frisk for weapons was rough and thorough. Buy me dinner before the body cavity search? Not the time, no matter how much she wanted to taunt someone as a way to ignore her fear.
Kirby was half-led, half-dragged to a bench seat in what would be a Jeep, and the vehicle jerked forward. The hands on her arms kept a tight grip the entire time, and other legs locked hers in place.
This was severe, even for TOM. A bitter cocktail of bile and tequila burned up her throat.
The ride didn’t last as long as she expected. Standard practice was a loop around campus, before landing back at the facility near the entrance. Then again, all of this was a degree off center from procedure.
The Jeep stopped, and she was dragged to a new location, the toes of her shoes bouncing roughly against the ground, with no chance for her to find her footing.
They walked for several hundred meters, up stairs and around corners, before she was shoved into a chair and a door latched shut behind her. Then, there was silence.
A latching door meant this wasn’t the interrogation room. She shifted in her padded seat and was greeted with a wooden creak and chair legs that scraped against a carpet or rug.
If they were going to torture her in a traditional way, a carpeted room was an odd place to do so, but TOM didn’t do traditional torture. They’d use honey over vinegar unless they saw no other choice.
The knowledge didn’t stop her heart from slamming against her ribs. Would she have to blow her cover? Would she have time to decide before she was unconscious?
The ties on her wrists went taut, then fell away, and her hood was ripped off.
She blinked several times in the subdued lighting of Loki’s office. He leaned against his desk, across from her, arms crossed and hood in one hand.
Silence was her best option until he gave her more. She’d stare him down all night if she had to. Or part of the night. Or maybe a few minutes. Brit hated waiting out situations like this.
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