Tur: An Elsker Saga Novella (The Elsker Saga)

by S. T. Bende

  TUR

  AN ELSKER SAGA NOVELLA

  ST Bende

  Tur

  An Elsker Saga Novella

  Copyright © 2013, ST Bende

  Edited by: Eden Plantz and Stacey Nash

  Interior Snowflakes by: Eden Plantz

  Cover Art by: Rebecca K. Sterling, Sterling Design Studios

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage system without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First publication: 2013, ST Bende

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Back Cover Copy

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  About the Author

  Back Cover Copy

  Inga Andersson is the envy of every girl in Asgard. On the surface she has it all – great friends, a job as Odin’s personal fight choreographer, and a happy ever after with her realm’s hottest assassin. But when evil invades Asgard, her perfect world comes crashing down. Someone is planning to kill off the gods, and Inga’s best friend Ull is first on their list. With the Norse apocalypse a nanosecond away, Inga has to decide how she’ll spend her final moments of freedom. Because from the moment this battle begins, Inga’s happily ever after will be nothing more than a memory.

  Some things are worth fighting for.

  TUR is an Elsker Saga novella. It is approximately 10,000 words long.

  Dedication

  To my adorable princes.

  All your dreams can come true.

  Acknowledgements:

  An enormous thank you to the cutie pie who knows I hear Norse gods in my head and married me anyway. Jeg elsker deg.

  To our awe inspiring boys, who fill our lives with faith, hope and love. You are the best thing that ever happened to us. Apu.

  Takk to Stacey Nash, the most generous friend a girl could have. Gunnar is now, and ever more shall be, yours. Just don’t tell Inga – she kind of scares me.

  Thank you to my editor and friend Eden Plantz, for reminding me to write the kinds of women you want your daughters to read.

  Tusen takk to my writer friends; for reading my drafts, sharing your wisdom, and never letting me give up. Jacqueline Gardner, Stacey Nash, Eden Plantz, Melinda Dozier, Kara Leigh Miller, Rachel Kall, Cora Carmack, the girls at Indie Ignites and Aussie Owned & Read, Tracie Banister, Anna Garner, Kristie Cook, Amy Evans, EJ Wesley, the #NALitChat crew, and everyone who has offered advice and support along this journey. Thank you.

  Mange takk to Team Elsker. You championed these characters from the very beginning and brought the Elsker Crew to life through your amazing creativity. Ull and I would be lost without you. A very special thank you goes out to @ullmyhr’s Twitter Tormentors, who keep our boy on his toes.

  And thanks to MorMorMa, for introducing me to these beautiful stories. And also to Norsk waffles. Takk for maten.

  TUR: AN ELSKER SAGA NOVELLA

  Chapter One

  BREATHE, INGA. YOU’VE got this.

  An angry god was coming at me from across the clearing, legs pumping with decent speed. He was a blur of red hair and clenched fists, the visible embodiment of rage. Thick, blue veins pulsed beneath muscular forearms, and I could feel the fury seething from every pore. I managed to avoid the first series of punches, but the livid deity landed a fast uppercut that sent me flying. My ears rang as I shook my head, evicting the stars behind my eyes. It wasn’t like me to miss a sucker-punch.

  I jumped to my feet just in time. The god charged at me like a Celtic dancer – head down, arms at his sides. Interesting approach. I sidestepped him, but he circled around, hooking my neck with one arm and forcing me down. He pounced with outstretched hands, clearly aiming for my throat. I tucked my knees over my head so he landed face first in the dirt. He came up, spitting bark and angrier than ever.

  “Good,” I murmured as the god started circling. “Now I’ve gotcha.” When he lunged again, I caught his fist between two hands. His eyes widened as I squeezed. Hard. When I heard his knuckles crack, I bent my knees and pushed off the balls of my feet. I threw my arms across my chest, hurtling my opponent off the ground. He landed on his back, the air leaving his lungs in a painful sound. I left him clutching a complete set of broken fingers.

  “Nice effort, Christian.” I tilted my head and offered a hand to help him up. “You nearly got me a few times there. Do you know where you went wrong?”

  My student glared as he hoisted himself up with his good arm. “Nei. But Odin knows you’re going to spell it out for me.”

  “It’s not my idea of a good time to teach you basic combat skills on Sunday morning. You’re the one who almost got himself killed in Jotunheim last week. Not me.”

  “That wasn’t my fault, the—”

  “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care if they shoved starkweed root under your fingernails and used voodoo to make you sprout a second head. Your commander asked me to get you up to speed so you don’t get anyone else in your unit killed. And it’s my day off. So hurry up and tell me what you did wrong.”

  “The guys were right about you. You’re a nightmare.” My charge cradled his broken hand. What a baby. While I normally enjoyed my job as Fight Choreographer and Chief Tactical Advisor for Asgard’s warriors, some days, it could be a royal pain. Since Christian had neither stopped whining nor improved his attack in the past ninety minutes, this morning garnered a royal pain checkmark.

  “Thank you. Now, tell me where you went wrong.”

  “Uh…” Christian glared at me. He was probably wondering how a girl just beat him at hand to hand. They were all like that the first time we worked together. Seasoned warriors cherished private sessions with me. Greenhorns loathed them.

  “Where was your head two minutes ago?” I probed.

  “I wanted to kill you.”

  “That’s good. But you were coming from an emotional place. Combat’s all about strategy. If you’ve got too much going on here,” I tapped his chest, “Then you can’t focus on what should be going on here.” He ducked before I could tap his head. Touchy little bugger.

  “Fine. Let’s go again.”

  “Can you stay in your head this time, or do you need to cool it for a few minutes? If you’re going to last more than a week at this job, you better learn to shut down your emotions. Find a little switch inside and just—” I flicked my finger in the air. “Turn it off. You have to want to kill me for the right reasons. And those reasons aren’t here.” I tapped his heart. Christian grimaced.

  “I get it. Let’s just get this over with.”

  “I hope you do get it. I need to get dinner in the oven before the Assignment Meeting, so I can’t be here past eleven. Move it or lose your other hand.”

  “Whatever.” Christian glared at me and retreated to the corner of the clearing. “On your mark.”

  I straightened my ponytail and dropped into a fighting stance. “Now!”

  Three exhaust
ing hours later, I swiped mascara across my lashes and put on my anniversary present from Gunnar. The diamond studs sparkled against my earlobes, so I added a touch of glittery shadow to my eyelids to set them off. A few quick strokes with my boar bristle brush and my long, blonde hair shone to perfection.

  “Come on, babe. We’re going to be late.” Gunnar handed me the gold sash hanging over the bedpost. I glanced up and couldn’t help but smile. His wild brown hair made him look like he’d just rolled out of bed, but I knew him well enough to know he’d spent a good five minutes artfully arranging each spike to frame his face.

  “Why are you staring at me?” Gunnar tilted his head.

  “You’re just cute.” I tied my sash in a loose knot around my waist. We weren’t supposed to accessorize our dress robes, but they were unfortunate-looking on their own. All the riches of the realms and this was the best Odin could come up with? Honestly.

  “I’m ready. Wait.” I swiped a coat of gloss over my lips. “Now I’m ready.”

  Christian and his iron will had left me seriously behind schedule. I’d run all the way home, thrown my roast in the oven, taken a super short shower without even exfoliating, and we were still barely going to make the Assignment Meeting. But it’d been worth it. I’d left Christian singing my praises – he wouldn’t be a liability to his unit any more. With a few years’ practice, he might even make the Elite Team.

  “Hold on. Before we leave… you have something right here.” Gunnar came up from behind me. He wrapped strong arms around my waist and pulled me to his chest. It felt hard against my back, the muscles still knotted from his morning workout. I closed my eyes and breathed in his soapy smell. It was comforting and exhilarating all at once. My senses stirred as Gunnar tugged the neck of my robe down, exposing my shoulder. He brushed his lips against the muscle with a feather light touch. A thousand nerve endings performed jumping jacks with military precision.

  “Oh, do I?” My head fell to the side. “What about right here?”

  “There too.” Gunnar kissed a trail from my shoulder to the nape of my neck. His tongue flicked against my skin, sending the aerobically gifted nerves into overdrive. They pulsed against each brush of his lips, driving a slow burn deep into my abdomen. I reached up to grip the spikes of his still-damp hair, and as I did he covered my stomach with one massive hand. He pulled me closer as he kissed me from behind. He raked my earlobe between his teeth, a decision that was sure to derail our afternoon. Who cared? This was going to be a much more enjoyable way to spend the day.

  I whirled around so my chest pushed up against his. Gunnar palmed my behind with both hands, pulling me closer. “Have I ever told you that you have an exquisite backside?”

  “I believe you once said that was why you married me,” I teased.

  Gunnar squeezed lightly, and my head swam from the rush of blood. In one swift movement he bent down and clothes-lined my knees so I fell into his arms. As he stalked toward the bed we heard an irate voice from the living room.

  “We are late!”

  Ull.

  “Shove off, mate!” Gunnar yelled back. He continued his determined trajectory toward the bed.

  “Wait.” My fingers grazed his face. The prickly fibers of his day-old beard tickled my skin. “Odin will kill us if we miss the meeting. Then, Ull will kill us again for ticking off Odin. How many lives do you have left?”

  “Who said anything about missing the meeting? I only need half an hour. He’ll still be working his way through the tertiary gods by then.” Gunnar gave me a look that sent tingles down my back. “You really want to stop doing this?”

  “No.” I stared at the emerald eyes twinkling at me. “But I also don’t want to hear it from Ull for the next five years.”

  “Wouldn’t hurt him to break one rule.” Gunnar grumbled. “Scratch that. It might. Fine, doll. You win this one. But this isn’t over.”

  “I should hope not,” I stroked the stubble dusting his jaw. “Besides, you might only need half an hour. But I’m going to need more.” With a wink I laced my fingers through Gunnar’s. He let out a soft growl.

  “Careful what you wish for. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

  “Oh, I know exactly what I’m getting into.” I pulled my hand away from his to smack his behind. Then I strode down the hallway, punctuating my exit with a hair toss. I heard Gunnar’s laughter as I entered the living room of the house we shared with our best friend. Ull sat on the couch, muscular arms stretched across its back. His hair was in characteristic disarray, and his pale blue eyes sparkled in the early afternoon light. From a distance he was the picture of calm, but when I looked closer, I noticed his fingers tapping. He was ticked.

  “About time,” Ull grumbled. “We are late.”

  “I know.” I patted his head.

  “I am not your pet, Inga.” Correction. Ull was really ticked.

  “Right.” My fingers moved side to side, ruffling his hair instead.

  “Stop that.”

  Ignoring him, I crossed to the door. “Instead of being mad, you could try congratulating me. My morning student is ready to declare me fight choreographer extraordinaire, since I gave him the tools to whomp on that troll, Skadi.”

  “She is still acting out, I take it?” Ull stretched his long legs as he stood. At six feet five inches, he stood two inches over Gunnar, and nearly a full foot over me. He had the kind of posture typical of Elite Team warriors – shoulders back, head high. But unlike most of the warriors, Ull never let his guard down; not even at home.

  “She’s still fuming you won’t go out with her. And arrogant as Helheim that she’s the only female warrior. Is there any chance she’ll go back to whatever realm she crawled out of?” I tried not to stare while Gunnar adjusted the ridiculous number of medals pinned to his uniform. He was the third highest ranking warrior in total kills, after Thor and Ull, and he had the hardware to prove it. It wasn’t fair that he had to look so sexy on a day we had somewhere to be. Maybe he could keep the medals on later…

  “Ull’s not so secret admirer, leave Asgard? I wish.” Gunnar closed the front door. “I can’t wait to see Christian take her down. When do they spar next?”

  “Tuesday morning.” I hurried after Ull, who walked purposefully ahead of us. Rule follower that he was, he’d never been late for anything in his entire existence. “I’ll be watching.”

  “Me too.” Gunnar ran a hand through his brown spikes and raised an eyebrow at Ull. We broke into a jog to catch up.

  “I hope this thing is over quickly,” I took Gunnar’s hand as we ran. The day was gorgeous, and I wished we could spend it outside.

  “You say that every cycle.” Gunnar traced a small circle inside my palm with his thumb. My insides fluttered like a swarm of dizzy bumblebees in an untapped lavender field. That god knew how to get to me.

  “Mmm… well, I set the oven for a five-hour cook. If this thing goes long, we’re looking at a seriously dried out dinner.” The bumblebees slowed, probably at the thought of a ruined roast.

  “If it goes long, I will barbeque salmon,” Ull offered. His mood was considerably lighter now that the Great Hall was in our sights. “We have some from our last fishing trip, right?”

  Gunnar nodded. “About twenty pounds, in the storage freezer, mate.”

  “Great. The two of you can cook if Odin dries out my dinner.”

  “You going to be okay if Odin makes you Tactical Advisor again?” Gunnar nudged me with his shoulder.

  “What do you think?” These meetings had become the bane of my immortal existence. Every five years, Odin handed out jobs for that cycle. And I never got my top choice.

  “Listen, Inga—” Ull began.

  I cut him off. “You and Gunnar get the jobs you want every cycle. Every cycle. And I’m happy for you guys, I really am. You’re the best assassins we have. I just want the chance to fight with you.”

  “I do not fight anymore,” Ull offered.

  “No, but that was y
our decision. You spent ten cycles with Gunnar on the Elite Team before you transferred out. You chose to become God of Winter – just like you chose to leave the assassins.” My hair bounced across my shoulders as I shook my head. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous.”

  “If they let goddesses on the Elite Team, you know you’d be Odin’s first choice,” Gunnar said. “Well, except for her.”

  “He could let me be a Valkyrie,” I suggested.

  “Inga,” Ull sighed.

  “Why not? I could do it.” Valkyries got to harvest mortal soldiers for Odin’s collection. The top Valkyries got to train the dead humans to fight for Asgard at Ragnarok. Such a sweet deal.

  “Sorry. You know how I feel about that.” Gunnar dropped my hand.

  “Great Odin, still?” I turned to face him. “Gunnar, you have to let it go.”

  “Nope. I’m not going to risk losing you again. I talked to Odin last week. No Valkyries. Sorry.”

  “Ull.” I turned the full force of my blue eyes on him.

  “Sorry. I agree with Gunnar on this one. I do not want to lose the closest thing I have to a sister.”

  The two of them were so overprotective; I could thank the stupid giants for that. If they hadn’t kidnapped me forever ago, I could have been fighting alongside my husband instead of sitting in the training room, sketching out battle plans like some fragile ballet mistress. It was excruciating to hand over my carefully orchestrated moves to a group of meatheads who didn’t appreciate being taught by a girl. I probably didn’t help myself out by leveling the ones who sounded off.

  “Fine,” I sighed. This was a battle I would never win. Both of my boys were stubborn as an ox.