Battle Cry (Loki's Wolves Book 2)

by Melissa Snark

  "Your tattoo." She extended her hand.

  He glanced down, hesitating. "What about it?"

  "It connects you to your father, right? Like an Alpha to the rest of the pack."

  His brow knit. "We're not wolves."

  She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and waved her arm with pointed impatience. "That's a technicality and also irrelevant since the functionality is basically the same."

  Sawyer surrendered his arm. "Did Daniel tell you about it?"

  "Just a little. I think this may be my way around your father's wards. I'll bond with you and then follow your connection through to him." Grasping his forearm, she placed her other hand over the tattoo, and white light caressed his skin. The dormant magic inherent within the symbol activated, and heat rose against her palm. Mystical, spiritual pathways flared to life, creating an opening through Sawyer just as she'd suspected. At the end of a long, dark tunnel shone a blindingly brilliant star.

  A monumental decision hung over her head like the blade of a scythe. If Jake Barrett was the source of that immense power, then the man was more dangerous than she'd ever imagined. Victoria hesitated, once again questioning the wisdom of what she was about to do. Did she really want to take such a huge risk? Freya's warning fed her uncertainty.

  "What do you mean bond with me?"

  "You'll be joined to me like the rest of my pack." The pack bond was intimate and substantial. Not necessarily unbreakable, but darn close. The idea of adding a hunter to their ranks, even temporarily, made her question her own judgment. But not as much as it should have, and that bothered her more. However, she thought the current circumstances were too urgent for further contemplation.

  "What?" Sawyer demanded. His voice overflowed with outrage. In the sunshine, his blond hair shone in a disarray of straight silk, falling about his face and shoulders. He had a smudge of soot across his forehead and another on his cheek.

  "It should only be temporary." Victoria bit her lower lip, adding a silent I hope. She doubted a temporary bond would possess the resilience necessary to endure, and she was counting on their vehement dislike of one another to foster impermanence. After all, Sawyer despised her, and she disliked him. Somewhat.

  He pinned her with his gaze. "What if it's not?"

  She looked him straight in the eyes. "Do you want me to save your father or not? I'm not any happier with the prospect of having a hotheaded hunter join my pack. You're not even remotely suitable."

  His mouth opened, and he looked like he wanted to argue. Then his mouth snapped shut, and he gave a sharp nod. "Do it."

  "Goddess, forgive me. Here goes nothing." Victoria's hand slipped from Sawyer's arm and rested on his solid pectoral. She tried to ignore the rock hard muscles beneath his warm skin and dropped her other hand, palm down, onto Jake's breast. The steady throb of the son's heart provided a sharp contrast to the father's still corpse.

  Concentrating, she summoned her magic and initiated an empathic connection with him. She plunged headlong into an oppressive quicksand of guilt and grief. Shocked, she threw back her head, gasping for air. The blue eternity of sky filled her vision, and she struggled to get her bearings. She caught a brief glimpse into Sawyer's soul and recoiled from the torment he carried within. He mourned his brother's death and regretted the war, but his suffering surpassed her expectations.

  Determined not to examine his spirit too closely, she located the mystical connection to his father and hurried along her journey. She sped down the long, narrow tunnel. Darkness pressed in upon her from all sides, and she would have lost her way if not for the bright beacon glowing on the other end.

  Victoria emerged on a verdant carpet beneath cheerful morning sunshine. Blades bent and broke beneath her bare feet, releasing the sweet scent of grass. Blinking, she tilted her head to gaze up at the sparsely spaced trees which were thick of trunk, wide of limb, and dressed in the light-green foliage of early spring. Bird song animated the leaves, filling the meadow with a melody vibrant and joyful.

  Nature's cathedral.

  A shrill scream split the air, and the songbirds hushed. The deafening sound caused the earth to tremble and the trees to shake so a shower of leaves descended to the ground.

  Hands cupped to the sides of her head, she pivoted on her heel and came face-to-face with Jake Barrett. He stood a few paces from her. Far too close for comfort, so she fell back, stumbling in her haste. Their gazes locked, and they stared.

  The cry repeated twice more, then silence followed.

  Victoria lowered her hands and waited for her ears to stop ringing. "What in Hel's name was that?"

  Jake's lips twisted into an ironic smile that did nothing to settle her nerves. "Damn rooster won't stop crowing."

  "Point me to it. I'll solve your chicken problem." Victoria snapped her teeth together to make her point.

  He chuckled. "If only it were that easy."

  "What is this place?"

  "A dream." He sighed with longing. "A memory of a place I used to love."

  "It's lovely." Victoria glanced around as an excuse to look elsewhere while she wondered how to broach the most sensitive and immediate issue—his damaged heart. "Do you have any sense of urgency at all?"

  He chuckled. "Not at my age."

  Her mouth was bone dry. Her fear remained active and vital. Who was he? A giant? Or a powerful sorcerer? Or maybe even a god? Mentally, she ruled out Thor, who lacked both the wit and the will to engage in such games. Not Loki. The game-playing certainly fit, but she'd have expected more cocky arrogance from the Trickster and also better fashion sense.

  Jake chuckled as if he were privy to her thoughts. "You're pregnant."

  The way he regarded her sent chills coursing down her spine, but Victoria refused to retreat any farther. She squared her shoulders and held her head high. "Yes."

  He stepped closer, hand extended toward her abdomen. He came within millimeters of touching her as a vibrant orange glow emanated from his palm and washed across her stomach. Pleasant warmth formed deep in her belly.

  "Daniel's not the father."

  "I took a mate." His proximity made her maternal instincts scream. Her chills worsened to tremors. Through an act of will, she quelled the instinctive desire to knock his arm aside.

  His eyes narrowed, and he frowned. "You claim to have loved my son, and yet you're mated to another within six months of his death?"

  She stared him straight in the eyes and replied without apology. "My duty is to those under my protection and my bloodline. I must provide an heir. I would have loved to have had Daniel's child, but we weren't even engaged. I will do whatever I must to ensure the welfare of my pack."

  He looked at her with an odd mix of curiosity and speculation. "Such pragmatism is rare."

  Offended, Victoria arched her brow. "In women?"

  He withdrew his hand. "In anyone."

  She cocked her head, staring at him. She tired of the games, the obvious skirting of the real issue—his true nature. If he intended to kill her to keep his secret, she was already dead. Marshalling her resolve, she went at him point blank. "Why haven't you used your power to heal yourself?"

  His eyelids hooded. He said nothing.

  She rolled her eyes. "Answering me isn't telling me anything I haven't figured out."

  His jaw worked. "While I'm mortal, I'm limited to the abilities of my incarnate form. Healing isn't one of those gifts."

  She nodded, thinking. "An avatar. Are you cut off, or have you chosen this?"

  "Everything is a choice."

  She smiled. "Niiice. Noncommittal, but still profound. Is the reason you didn't lower your wards the same as why you won't repair your own heart?"

  He exuded absolute calm, complete focus. "My wards are still intact, so I know you didn't break them. How is it you're even here, wolf?"

  Victoria took an involuntary step back. Her throat worked. "Sawyer."

  "You used my son to get past my protections. Clever." The way he grated the words lef
t no doubt, the man was furious beneath his impervious exterior.

  She edged further from him even though she had nowhere to run. The dark tunnel had closed behind her. "Sawyer begged me to help. I couldn't have circumvented your wards without his cooperation."

  His hand rose, fingers splayed, and his voice softened. "Relax, Victoria. I'm not angry with you."

  "Coulda fooled me." She refused to lower her guard on his word. The man's reputation as a merciless and unstoppable slayer preceded him.

  "Today, we were set up in a manner similar to the day your parents died," he said. "After the attack at the air field, I thought the ambush might have been arranged by one of my enemies. I have many. Only no one knew about the meeting today except for a select handful of my people."

  Following in the wake of Daniel's death and Sawyer's attack on her, Victoria's father had arranged to meet with Barrett at a private airstrip outside Phoenix. Most of her pack and a large number of hunters had attended. Ironically, both Victoria and Sawyer had been excluded from the event but for radically different reasons.

  Victoria remained silent for a moment, putting two and two together, arriving at the logical explanation. Bile left a sour taste in her mouth. "You have a traitor in your organization."

  From the look on Jake's face, he had already reached the same conclusion. "Yes, I reckon so. Someone wanted to break the alliance and put us at each other's throats."

  "They succeeded," she said. "Sawyer thinks Andy Chart is your traitor. They're hunting him now."

  "Chart." His face hardened. Those penetrating eyes gleamed like diamonds set in a stone mask. Somewhere, a Norn snipped a man's life thread short.

  "Did he have access to the airfield prior to the meeting last December?"

  Jake's nostrils flared. "Yeah, he did."

  "So you really had nothing to do with the ambush?"

  "On my honor, I had nothing to do with the explosions at the airfield that day." Jake's gaze remained steady, his scent strong with truthfulness.

  "How many were there?"

  "Three vehicles went up simultaneously, so they must have been on timers. They were loaded with silver scattershot. Your parents and members of your pack were hit, but just as many of my people were injured or killed."

  "My parents were only injured. Not killed in the explosion." She glared, daring him to deny it. "They were killed by hunters with silver ammunition."

  Anger suffused his face, a dark flush. "That's right, but it wasn't under my orders—" He bit off his sentence and then said, "Shooting started, and the violence spun out of control on both sides. I don't know who fired the first shot."

  She arched a skeptical brow, challenging him. "I'm supposed to believe that the vaunted Hunter King lost control of his people?"

  He bristled, but for once, she received the impression it wasn't directed at her. "Your father and I hunted together for thirty years. I wouldn't have attacked without provocation."

  Her chin lifted. "When I visited Valhalla, my father defended you."

  He smiled, showing teeth. "But not your mother?"

  Victoria remained diplomatically quiet.

  Jake chuckled. "Your mother never did like me."

  Victoria ran a hand through her hair, pacing a circle. How far did this go? Had the attack on her and Daniel also been premeditated or an unfortunate coincidence? "This is a lot to take in all at once. Could Chart have been working alone?"

  "Unlikely. The scope is too big for one man." From his expression, he looked deep in thought. "Besides, Chart isn't smart enough to pull off something like this alone."

  "Do you think these bombs were assassination attempts?" The death of her parents had crippled her pack. She imagined if Jake died today, his organization would be weakened and thrown into chaos.

  "Yes, I do." He crossed his arms over his powerful chest. "This sordid affair has hurt my organization on multiple levels aside from the hunters who died," Jake admitted in a heavy voice. "Your father negotiated the original treaty and was instrumental in organizing the packs. The attack has devastated our defenses. When we went to war with the Storm Pack, we lost the help of all the packs."

  She exhaled, a soft gust of surprise, and her eyes widened. Granted, she'd been out of touch with politics but— "All of them?"

  He stared, scrutinizing her face as if trying to read her mind. "All of them."

  She nodded, hesitant to ask her next question. But she had to know. "What happened to my parents' bodies?"

  Regret crossed his face. "I had all of your peoples' bodies burned in accordance with your customs."

  Victoria gulped. Her throat hurt, her heart ached. "Thank you for that."

  "You're welcome." He squared his shoulders as if bracing for something.

  She inhaled a sharp breath and held it.

  "How's Daniel doing?" Jake asked. "While I'm mortal, I'm cut off—"

  Terrible dread filled her, and she stuttered. "W-w-what do you mean?"

  Holding infinity, those implacable eyes locked on her. He inhaled a huge draught of air, and the wind picked up, beating down on their heads. Leaves shook in the swaying branches. "My son's soul. It was your duty to escort Daniel to Valhalla, Valkyrie."

  Victoria staggered as if struck. Her heart thundered in her ears. All of the blood drained from her face. "No."

  Jake's brow drew together like twin swords. His voice acquired the rumble of thunder, and the forest shook. "What do you mean, no?"

  Her hands gripped her head to stop it from flying off. "I had no way of knowing. He never said— He never even hinted—"

  The sky darkened, and lightning flashed overhead. "No way of knowing what?"

  Horrified, she shook her head, and hot tears coursed down her cheeks as the missing puzzle pieces fell into place. Her nightmare, the prophecy, Daniel's request that she go to his father. It all made sense.

  "You didn't know he belonged in Valhalla because he never told you," Jake said, tone grim. "Because he was keeping my secrets."

  She drew a soggy breath and scrubbed at her tears, humiliated by the display of weakness before her enemy. "I didn't know. When the light came after his death, I allowed his soul to be taken. At the time I thought he was going to his god, but now I know—he was stolen."

  The harsh wind stole her tears. Gasping, her starved lungs failed to draw enough, leaving her feeling as if she were suffocating. "I've failed in my duty—"

  As if seized by a sudden realization, Jake turned his face aside. "Your sister Valkyries wouldn't have come for him because you were present. It was the perfect trap."

  "Daniel came to me in a dream the night before last. He told me his soul is imprisoned by the vampire who killed him. He said to go to you. I wasn't sure it was real, but I agreed to this meeting anyway." Shame clawed at her insides. The magnitude of her screw up left her stunned. A Valkyrie who failed to deliver a fallen warrior to Valhalla... If the gods stripped her of her title and cast her into the underworld, it would be precisely what she deserved.

  The Hunter King focused on her. He glowed with wrath. "The loathsome creature dares use my son as bait."

  "This is my fault." Horrible guilt consumed Victoria.

  "No. This is no one's fault but the vile vampire who has manipulated, deceived, and attacked us." His voice surrounded her, the air and the earth speaking. The storm worsened, and lightning lanced from the sky in a bright arc that split a nearby tree.

  Burning rage replaced Victoria's self-loathing, and her blood boiled. Her wolf rose, swift and sure, and peered out of her eyes. Her elongated canines pressed to the insides of her cheeks. A growl rumbled in her throat.

  Jake's humanity fell away, revealing his true face. The terrible, glorious visage stared at her with a single, solid black eye. It spanned eternity, defined life and death.

  "Sigföðr," she gasped in awe. She dropped to one knee before him, bowing her head out of respect and reverence.

  His hand caught her elbow and drew her upright before him. His face
appeared human again. "In this life, I am a man. Whether I'm your ally or your enemy, Victoria Storm, I wish to be treated with the respect due Jake Barrett. Nothing more, nothing less."

  Victoria stared at him hard, wondering if he was serious, or if this was the sort of joke deities cracked right before they incinerated the hapless mortal who fell for it. Jake Barrett was known as a man of honor, and second-guessing him struck her as dangerous. Her practical side preferred to take him at his word.

  She nodded. "Fine. Then you and I still have a matter of honor to settle between us, Hunter King. We can set our differences aside until Daniel's soul is safe, but I'm not done with you. Not by a long shot."

  He flashed a feral, toothy grin. "I wouldn't have it any other way. Now heal my heart, Valkyrie. We're going to war."

  Incanting, Jake spoke the ancient runes which lowered his wards. The world around them transformed. The forest became a rocky isle at the center of a stormy gray sea. White crested swells like snow-capped mountains towered overhead. Forked lightning lanced across the sky. Thunder shook the world. Frozen sleet pounded down upon their heads, slicking her blonde hair against her skull and soaking her to the skin.

  Awe-inspiring.

  The real world returned—the heat of the sun and fire, the beat of her heart and the press of her hands upon his bloody chest. Concentrating, Victoria extended her awareness to his body's life pattern. Her stomach dropped at the extensive amount of shrapnel embedded within his torso, including the bullet buried in his heart.

  "Is it bad?" Jake's voice carried through her mind as if he shouted across a great distance.

  She swallowed. "Yes. The aorta is severed, and the muscle is destroyed. Death should have been instantaneous."

  "Can you fix it?"

  She licked her dry lips. "On my own? Maybe. If my pack was here, or we were within my territory..."

  "Call on your goddess," Jake commanded.

  Was it her imagination or did he sound disgruntled? Victoria sighed and reached through divine channels for Freya. "My Lady of the Vanir, I pray for your blessing. Please, heal this man."

  She waited but no answer was forthcoming. Brittle tension filled the air, growing more uncomfortable with each passing second. All too aware of Jake's silent, condemning presence, she tried again. "Freya, please—"