by Berg, Saga
“No, Freja, it’s not like that at all.” Svala reached for her again, but Freja snatched back. “Don’t touch me!” she hissed.
“Freja, please, just listen.”
“No! I never want to talk to you for as long as I live. You’re selfish and mean, and I hate you!”
Viggo’s face filled with concern. “Freja, you don’t mean that,” he said.
“I do. I hate her.” She turned to him. “I told her I liked you, and she used that information to sabotage our chances to be together so she could keep you to herself. I know you like me, I feel it. That’s why you told me not to go with Brian last night, isn’t it? If she hadn’t lied to us, you would have taken me to the prom instead of her and none of this would have happened.”
“Freja, it’s not like that. You got it all wrong,” he said.
Her brows drew together. “What do you mean? You don’t like me?”
“Of course I do. You’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met, but I don’t like you in that way.”
Her eyes welled again. “That doesn’t make any sense. Either you like me or you don’t.” She glanced Svala. “Do you like her that way?”
Viggo remained silent and Svala didn’t know what to say either. Freja stepped back, distancing herself from them both. “How long has this been going on between you? Have the two of you been making fun of me? Did you lead me on so you could laugh about how stupid I was for thinking you liked me?”
“God, no!” Viggo reached for her but she continued to back away.
“Freja, you got it all wrong,” Svala said. “Please stay. Let’s have some breakfast and talk about it. We never meant to hurt you.”
Freja stared at Svala, her face red, eyes flinty. She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “No. I don’t want to talk to either of you, ever again.”
Chapter 8
1945
The humid air in Viggo’s cell hung heavy in the summer afternoon. He sat on his bunk in a lotus position and flinched as the door to the bunker yanked open, slamming hard against the stone wall. Loke sauntered down the stairs, followed by a soldier and the Döckálfar girl. Viggo got up, but kept his distance. The girl searched his gaze.
Loke walked up to the bars, and fished a red handkerchief out of his front suit pocket to wipe his face. “I’ll make you a deal.” He pushed the piece of fabric into his pocket and smiled.
“What makes you think I’m interested in making a deal with you?” Viggo asked.
Loke held Viggo’s gaze for a full five seconds, still smiling. “It’s not a matter of interest. It’s a matter of choice.”
Viggo frowned. He was sure he didn’t want to know what that meant.
“I’m offering you the opportunity to join us,” Loke said.
Viggo chortled but as Loke’s smile didn’t waver, his faded. “What? You’re serious?”
“Dead serious.”
Viggo glanced at the girl, her eyes filled with expectation. Her anticipation and Loke’s calm worried him. “It doesn’t matter. I would never join you.”
Loke studied Viggo. “I must say, Storm, I admire your stubbornness. I really do hope it’s worth it.”
“What do you...”
Viggo stopped talking as Loke raised his gun toward the girl and pulled the trigger. The bullet went through her head, right between her eyes, and the shocked expression stuck to her face as she fell to the dirty floor. A cloud of dust rose and settled around her bruised body. Her eyes remained open, and her hand fell over the soldier’s feet. He stepped aside and kicked it away with a bothered grimace. Loke turned to Viggo, waiting for his reaction, and Viggo fought against revealing his surprise.
“See, that was your choice,” Loke nodded toward the dead body.
“My choice?”
“Yes, you had the chance to save her, and you didn’t. You’re the one who let an innocent girl die because you chose to do nothing.”
Loke’s comment proved he had no idea the girl revealed to Viggo she was a Döckálfar. She would start her life over somewhere else, hopefully somewhere better. Viggo’s gaze darted from the girl to Loke, not sure how to play this, or what the game was really all about. It still didn’t make sense that would Loke kill one of his own.
Loke approached the cell. “You see, Storm, you can’t win. Sooner or later, I will break you down, and your choice will be inevitable.”
Viggo remained calm, strengthened by his knowledge. “I don’t see how. You’ve tried everything you can think of and I’m still not the least bit tempted to join you.”
“Tempted?” Loke laughed and shook his head. “Your lot... You really have no idea do you? Don’t worry, though. In time, you’ll see. Because let’s face it, time is what we have.”
***
Present time
Washington
The studio spotlight blinded Viggo as the technician adjusted it towards the lavender love seat. A man rushed up, secured the microphone on his shirt and stole a glance at Amanda’s long slender legs before he departed. The network’s attempt to create a cozy home-like atmosphere did nothing to relieve the tension in Viggo’s shoulders. Amanda leaned closer on the love seat and placed a hand on his arm. “Relax, honey. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”
He offered a strained smile. With the microphone switched on, and the audience seated, he couldn’t speak his mind. Besides, she already knew. He’d been furious when she’d told him about the public announcement of their engagement. She’d argued it was “good for publicity.”
“Besides, if we cancel the interview, they’ll know something isn’t right, and everything we’ve worked for will be ruined,” she’d said.
She was right, but her tactics proved her true nature. He wished he could have called Svala to warn her, tell her why he agreed to do this, and that she had no reason to worry. But even if he could reach her, he couldn’t tell her without risking everything he’d worked for.
The interviewer greeted them before she took her seat. “This is not live, so if you think of something you’d like to share when we’re done, we can add on afterwards.” She smiled and turned to Viggo. “Try to relax and have fun.”
Amanda reached out to clasp his hand. The oversized diamond on her engagement ring sparkled in the studio light. She’d bought it herself and when Viggo commented on the size, telling her it was unsuitable, she’d smiled and told him ‘size mattered’.
Viggo didn’t say much during the interview. Amanda answered the questions on how they met, making stupid references to the actual events. “Before I met Viggo, it felt like I had been locked up in a cell for centuries.” She met Viggo’s gaze with amusement. “I died when I saw him.”
The interviewer turned to him. “Was it the same for you? Love at first sight.”
He inhaled, and tried to act comfortable. “Well, we met under very special circumstances.”
The woman leaned closer, and urged him to continue. He didn’t know how to elaborate without having to lie, and Svala would be watching this later in the evening. As much as lying would be beneficial to his cause, it would also hurt her.
“Maybe not first sight.” He snickered.
Amanda playfully slapped his arm and grinned. “He’s such a comedian. That’s another thing I love about him. He always makes me laugh.” She grinned but clutched his arm tighter in warning. He forced a smile back, then turned away, refusing to hold her gaze any longer.
The interviewer looked into her notes. “You’re very young to get married. One might wonder if there is some other reason urging your decision?”
Amanda crossed her legs and fingered the hem of her skirt. Her eyes flickered over the room, and her reaction no doubt fed the interviewer’s assumption of a shotgun wedding. Viggo clenched his jaw. “No, there’s no other reason,” he said, his voice flat.
The interviewer searched Amanda’s gaze. She forced a smile and shook her head, eyebrows slightly raised. “No, no other reason,” she said and pressed her lips together.
/>
After the interview, Viggo and Amanda went to their dressing room. He closed the door behind him and tried to keep his voice down. “What the hell are you doing?”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You know very well what I mean. What was that? You intentionally let her believe you’re pregnant. You know Svala will watch this and I’ve told you, I won’t do this if it hurts her.”
She turned to the mirror by the makeup table and leaned in to remove her earrings. “Well, sometimes you have to hurt people to get what you want. You’re focusing on details. I’m only doing what is in the best interest of our assignment.”
He raised his voice, furious over her nonchalance. “How is pretending you’re pregnant in the best interest of our assignment?”
Amanda sighed and turned to face him. “I know you’re focused on your own agenda, but you know as well as I do you won’t get what you want unless I get what I want first.”
He stared at her. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
A soft knock on the door interrupted their conversation.
It was Emma. “Viggo, can I come in?”
He stared at Amanda with his lips tightened for a few seconds, then went to open the door. Emma peeked inside. “My dad is here, he wanted to say hi. Is that okay?”
Viggo forced a smile, still furious with Amanda for disrespecting his wishes, but curious about finally meeting the man who fathered his grandchild. He opened the door wider. “Of course.”
A tall blond man stepped into view, and the blood drained from Viggo’s face. Loke’s smug grin met his widened eyes with unbridled triumph. Over by the mirror, Amanda drew a sharp breath. Loke glanced at her with an amused look before he extended his hand to Viggo. “Hi Viggo, I’m Emma’s father. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Viggo swallowed hard, unsure how to act. Emma frowned, confused, as Viggo didn’t accept the hand shake. Noting her worry, Viggo lifted his arm and squeezed his former tormentor’s hand, unable to fake a smile or utter a word. An uncomfortable silence lingered. Loke released Viggo’s hand and turned to Amanda. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to say hi and congratulate you on the engagement.”
Amanda’s smile came out more like a grimace. She glanced at Viggo, panic shining through. Loke couldn’t contain his enjoyment. “You make an excellent couple.”
Viggo’s phone buzzed over at the dresser. Relieved at a chance to get away, he excused himself and walked over to check the display. Svala’s number filled the screen, and his heart skipped a beat. He quickly clicked to answer. “Viggo.” His voice didn’t hold.
Svala cried through strained breaths. “You have to come over,” she said.
Behind him, Amanda stared at Loke as if afraid he’d vanish and reappear somewhere unexpected if she lost sight of him. Viggo glanced at them both. They mustn’t find out who’d called.
“Viggo, are you there?” Svala asked.
“Yeah, hang on for a second.” Viggo lowered the phone and pressed it to his chest. “I have to take this, it’s my agent.”
“Are you leaving?” Amanda’s eyes widened.
Viggo nodded, then headed for the door, the phone still clutched against his chest. “I’ll be right back.”
He pushed past Loke to get into the hallway, and walked further down where they wouldn’t be able to hear him. He lifted the phone to his ear. “What happened?”
“You have to come over, Vig. I need you.” Svala cried.
“Of course. Tell me what happened.”
She breathed rapidly through the tears. “It’s Trym. He’s gone. I don’t know what to do. Please, come. Hurry.”
“I’m on my way.”
Author’s note
You have just read the forth novella in the series Nordic Fairies. I hope you enjoyed reading about Svala and Viggo. If you want to continue reading the rest, you’ll find information on Missing (Nordic Fairies, #5) and the other parts of Nordic Fairies here.
For automatic updates on upcoming parts, please like my Facebook Page. Information on releases will also be updated on My Website.
If you liked Nordic Fairies, please consider a rating and/or review on Goodreads to let me know.
Thank you and Regards,
Saga Berg
http://www.sagaberg.com/
