Vikings Unleashed: 9 modern Viking erotic romances

by Kate Pearce

  She climbed aimlessly as there seemed to be no end in sight, and risked a look down. Instead of the bathroom she’d left her physical form in, there was a frightening void. Pitch-black nothingness.

  “What kind of unholy shit…”

  Ótama’s laughter filled her head again. “Look up, not down. The way back will be easy to discern when you are ready to seek it. You are not trapped in here the way I am.”

  Tess pulled her gaze from the swirling darkness at her feet, and looked toward the heavens, and thankfully, there she was. Ótama leaned over the side of her longship and extended a hand to Tess.

  “Come on up.”

  Tess grabbed it and climbed up into the boat, panting more from stress than from exertion.

  “What just happened?” Maybe there once really had been a kid named Jack who climbed a giant beanstalk…in his head. Trippy psychic shit would explain the appalling fuckery of most medieval fairy tales. Comatose princesses being kissed awake by princes, ladies using their long hair as rope ladders…the list went on and on. If it had all been in some psychic’s head, then anything was possible.

  Ótama clapped her hands excitedly. “Oh, I could not have predicted it, but this is perfect!”

  “What’s perfect?” Tess wiped some seawater off the wood floor beside Ótama and sat.

  “Harvey and Oliver. Individually, they are certainly impressive. You would be a proud queen for sure with either, but together—oh, you would be unstoppable.”

  Tess stared slack-jawed at her ancestress. She’d be lying if she’d said she hadn’t given that any thought. She just had, in fact—right there in the shower.

  “I told you I get only limited glimpses of what my descendants are doing, but this was a special time since your grandmother gave up her title last night. The gods afforded me a wider lens.”

  “Just how much did you see?” Could she blush in this place? Implied sexuality was one thing, but giving a folks a front-row seat of the action? Hell nope.

  Ótama flicked a dismissive hand. “Your era is full of concerning ideology about sex.”

  “And yours wasn’t? I missed a lot of school as a kid, but to the best of my recollection, you guys were more or less monogamous.”

  Ótama nodded, but the implicit “whatever you say, dear” was unmistakable.

  Tess didn’t know how to respond.

  “To be the most liberal of all of our queens to date, you certainly do not react the way I expect.”

  “That liberalness has gotten me in a lot of trouble. I’m trying to clean up my act. I didn’t really have a warm-up period for this gig, you know, so I’ve had to quit a lot of bad habits cold turkey. Tell me how I should respond, and I’ll try to give you that the next time.”

  Ótama canted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Who said you needed to clean up your act?”

  “No one. I assumed it had to be done—that people would expect me to be upright and decent. I mean, I was overdue for the whole growing-up thing, anyway. I couldn’t be a delinquent all my life. Might as well make something of myself.”

  “Do not minimize your past thinking that doing so will pave the way for your future, Contessa. Your unique experiences are what shape your gifts. Do you know how Vikings got their names? They were based on something distinguishing about them. Erik the Red had red hair and a red beard. He also had a terrible temper, which most redheads are maligned for. Just ask your grandmother.” She chuckled. “His son, who gets credit for discovering your world,” she rolled her eyes—an action that was all Muriel, “was Leif Erikson, son of Erik, obviously, but also Leif the Lucky. If you strive to be the queen who toes the line, you will be the queen not worth remembering. Be bold, Contessa, and see what name history will record for you.”

  Tess’s chest puffed up at the challenge. When she was dead and gone, she wanted her legacy to be of the relatable queen that had been badly broken, but went on to do remarkable things. She didn’t have to be perfect to do her job.

  “That is not why I summoned you here, as you know. I ask that you give serious thought to keeping both men.”

  “You assume I would have a problem with it.”

  “Do you not? Have you forgotten that I am the progenitor of your gifts and that I can glean your thoughts?”

  Burn. Tess put up her hands. “I think this time, you’re misreading me. Hell, it would take two men to put up with all my bullshit, and let’s be frank; they’re both winners of the genetic lottery. I’m vain enough to admit it. The problems with the arrangement, however, are that, first, neither of them seems interested in sharing. Second, most Afótama are far more conservative than I am, and probably won’t feel comfortable with me having two dudes. Third, society. Having two husbands is illegal in all fifty states, and probably Puerto Rico and American Samoa, too.”

  Ótama shrugged. “Is your government’s idea of marriage the same as yours?”

  “Not even a little bit.”

  “Then keep the government out of your business.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  “Are you a cowering queen or a bold one?”

  “Touché, granny.”

  Ótama gave Tess’s arm a playful pinch. “If you want them both, you will figure out a way to keep them. It has been a very long time since our warriors have been called home. You need them as much as they need you. Oliver and all the other outliers—you need them to balance the group. You are not meant to evolve separately, but beside each other.”

  “They don’t want to come back. Ollie is the black sheep. He only wants me because he thinks the match was ordained.”

  “Of course it was.” Ótama reached out and cupped Tess’s chin in her hand. Her smile was curious. “Your father, may he rest in peace, made sure of it. When you get the chance, take a close look at your family tree. Your grandmother is selectively tight-lipped about her daughter’s husband, and that was by his request.”

  “Are you saying my father was…”

  “An axe-swinging orangutan like Oliver.” Her gaze softened and she let her hands fall to her lap. “But, he was an orphan taken in by the Afótama when no one else could take him. He was never linked up with his group, but he followed them from afar. He knew what he was meant to be. It was too bad your mother never had her turn as queen. It might have been your parents joining the two groups instead of you.”

  “Is that why they’re dead?”

  Ótama twined her fingers atop her swollen belly and crossed her legs. She let her knee bob for a while and stared out at the ocean.

  “You can’t tell me that, can you?”

  Ótama’s knee bobbed faster.

  “You literally can’t, huh? Okay.” She leaned over and gave the ghost a kiss on the forehead. Tossing one leg over the side of the longship, she added, “Don’t fret about it. It’ll just be one more thing for me to unravel. No one said being the Afótama queen was an easy job.”

  “Visit when you can. I believe you will provide me with many hours of entertainment. Remember, I am not granted full vision of what happens on Earth.”

  “I wish one of us was.” Maybe if Tess did have a wider scope, she could see if having two permanent lovers was worth the risks. She cared for both of them and knew she could never choose between them. She was drawn to Ollie because the part of her that was warrior recognized him as a kindred spirit. That’s why she knew he didn’t fight without a purpose, and more often than not, that purpose was to protect his family. Harvey pulled her in a different type of way. She was drawn to his logic and wisdom. She envied his confidence, but was content to bask in the shadow of his. He was a natural leader who people respected and looked up to. She’d respected and looked up to him, and even more since she’d become his queen. He’d been humble about it. He wasn’t jealous of her station. He was proud that it was hers. No one had been in her corner as long as him, and she was thankful to have him as her lover.

  Who could choose between them? She sure as shit wasn’t going to, and they’d have to
get the fuck over it. But as she climbed down the web toward the void, fear and dread pulled at her gut.

  What if she tried to keep both only to end up with neither?

  12

  “You know, I was joking when I asked if you had a gun handy to make the bodyguard cover seem believable.” Harvey tented his fingers and stared across the conference table and over Tess’s head at Ollie.

  Ollie stood behind her with one hand grazing her neck and the other stuffed into the pocket of his jeans. His loaded firearm was tucked into the back of his waistband. The safety was on, he’d said. Harvey had to take his word for it, and wasn’t entirely comfortable with the weapon in his presence. He and Ollie weren’t cool with each other by any stretch of the imagination. He didn’t think the big man would shoot to kill, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be eager to annoy Harvey a bit. Maybe he’d aerate his shoulder, or one of his feet, just for shits and giggles.

  Tess hadn’t paid much attention to either of them since they’d landed in Santa Fe. She’d been reflective during the drive to Albuquerque, and he didn’t dare disturb her. He caught flitting bits and pieces of her thoughts, and they were disjointed. Scattered. Whatever she was reflecting on took up all of her attention. He didn’t know what being queen was like and being that conduit for all the Afótama. It couldn’t have been easy, so he granted her some space.

  Ollie grunted. “I would have brought the gun, anyway. At close range, though, I prefer bladed weapons. They’re quieter.”

  Nadia, sitting at the end of the conference table scrolling through messages on her phone screen, whistled low. “Gangsta. I like it.”

  Ollie cut his gaze over to her. “Oh, yeah? I know just the guy for you, then.”

  Her red eyebrows bobbed up.

  Harvey didn’t think he was kidding, and he really didn’t like the idea of Ollie and his band of geriatric marauders muddying the Afótama gene pool. Those men were probably four feet tall at birth and fell out of the womb gripping the hilts of their weapons.

  “Tell me you don’t have a sword strapped under your shirt, too,” Harvey said, deadpan.

  Ollie shook his head, and there wasn’t a bit of humor to be found in his pinched expression. “I can’t carry my sword on my motorcycle without a larger bag than I’m willing to strap on. Not exactly something you want to get found in your possession if you get pulled over, either. Don’t worry, though. I’ll have all my weapons shipped out here. Your queen will be perfectly safe.”

  “I know she will be. I plan on ensuring that personally.”

  The grin that spread across Ollie’s face was wicked. “It’s good to know Muriel has someone on staff to oversee security. I hope I don’t make your job obsolete.”

  “You seem to be operating under the mistaken premise that with Tess being here, I won’t pick a fight.”

  “The only mistake is you thinking you’ll win if there is a fight.”

  “Rein it in now, boys,” Tess said quietly. Her forehead furrowed and she looked down at her hands. “Whoever it is meeting us here is coming down the hall now. I feel her.”

  Harvey didn’t want to think about how Tess had acquired the ability to feel, rather than to just hear, nearby Afótama. He suspected the man at her back had something to do with it, but for all he knew, it was a talent she was meant to have all along. Muriel didn’t have it, or at least she claimed, so besides Ollie, Tess had no one to seek counsel about it.

  Get your fill, Tess. He won’t be around for long.

  There was a gentle rap on the conference room door, and Nadia sprang to her feet. Ollie, with his long stride, beat her to the door and put a finger to his lips.

  He turned at Tess, who looked up.

  “How many?” he mouthed.

  “I feel one and hear one. Same person, but that’s one Afótama. There could be people out there I can’t detect,” she whispered.

  The person knocked again. “Hello?” It was a woman’s voice—thin and tentative.

  “Are you getting any thoughts off her that are concerning? I feel more than I hear, and all I feel is nervousness from her.” He didn’t just look at Tess, but all of them, and Harvey respected him a little more for it. When it came to Tess’s safety, he wasn’t going to be cavalier, even with his pride on the line.

  “Ollie, open the door,” Tess said. “She’s worried about her kids. She left them in the car.”

  Ollie open the door a sliver, and looked out in the hotel hallway. Then he opened it wider, and a short woman wearing ripped jeans and a faded hoodie sweater stepped in.

  Her nervous gaze was on everything and nothing. She looked at nothing in particular until during one of her disorganized sweeps, she saw Tess.

  She dropped to her knees and covered her head with her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt me, even if I deserve it. I didn’t know any better back then. I swear, I stayed away so they wouldn’t find out anything else. So they wouldn’t ask me anything else.”

  Tess’s gaze locked on Harvey’s. Her eyes were wide and the blood had drained from her face. “Help me.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “She believes she’s to blame for us getting taken. I—I’m not certain what to ask…or how I should react.”

  Should? If what Tess was saying was true, she should be pounding her fists against the tabletop, and screaming at the woman. She should be calling the security they had on standby in a room down the hall and telling them to apprehend the woman so she could be taken back to the compound and properly interrogated.

  But, she had to do better than should, because everything the queen did made a ripple in the web. Making waves when a ripple would do would be a mistake. She didn’t want to earn a reputation for using excessive force. Those kinds of perceptions were hard to shake off. He’d learned that mistake the hard way from working his way up in a cutthroat industry and in an even more cutthroat economy. He’d earned the nickname “Hard Harvey” for being aggressive and pushing his teams to the brink. Most people couldn’t hack it. Some, however, sought him out. They wanted to work under him because they’d learn more and do their jobs better. Over time, he’d learned to temper his passions and expectations with forgiveness. Not everyone was made to achieve in the same way. Not everyone had something to prove.

  Like him.

  “With kindness,” he said finally.

  She mouthed it back, and turned her chair toward the woman on the floor. “Mr. Gilisson, would you please close the door?”

  He shut it, and put his back against it. No one was coming in, and no one was going out unless it was through him. Harvey sure as shit didn’t want to be the dumb-ass trying to get through him. If he ever did insist on a challenge, Harvey would have to use every defense he had to take the man down. Some of those, he’d hesitate to use on his worst enemy and he wasn’t certain Ollie was that. He was a nice enough guy. They might even have been friends under different circumstances.

  “What’s your name?” Tess asked.

  The woman’s response was a low mumble against the floor.

  “Fiona? Is that it? Look at me, not the carpet. No one here is going to hurt you.”

  She lifted her head slowly and looked up, but her gaze seemed to miss Tess by a couple of feet. She was like a stray cat that had come to this place because she knew there’d be nourishment if she behaved herself, but had become so used to running away that she perceived everything as a threat.

  “Tell me what you did.” Tess leaned her forearms onto her thighs so she was closer to Fiona’s level. Her voice was gentle, not accusatory, and knowing Tess as he did, he knew it wasn’t an act. She didn’t have to try hard to be kind. Kindness was easy for her. Being hard when she needed to be, though, was difficult. It had taken her all her life to shore up her backbone. It’d always been easier for her to run than to fight back.

  He wanted for her to never have to fight again. He’d fight for her—be the bad cop to her good one, when she needed one.

  “Ple
ase, I’ve got two kids and I’m a single mom. I get if you’re upset with me, but make sure they’re okay, will you? Their names are Annie and Ricky, and if you tell them the secret codeword, they’ll go with you. Just tell them—”

  “I don’t need to know it,” Tess said. “We don’t need any more Afótama orphans, do we?”

  Fiona gave her head a violent shake. “No.”

  “Good, so tell me why you called us up here. What did you do that’s so unforgivable that you couldn’t go home and tell us there?”

  “She’s on some kind of anti-psychotic drug,” Nadia projected. Harvey couldn’t tell if the message was a special delivery meant just for him or if Tess and Ollie were getting it, too, because they didn’t react. Maybe that was purposeful, though. Fiona would have guessed they were having a private discussion if they all turned to look at the same person at once.

  “How can you tell?” Harvey asked.

  “I’ve seen this before. They’re not compatible with our physiology. Makes the psychic shit erratic. The couple of people I knew who got prescribed them ended up getting institutionalized. She’s probably not a danger to her kids, but all the same, she shouldn’t be on her own with them.”

  “I hear you,” Tess said. “That’s all I can say on that for now. I’ve got too much information streaming through me. The web is abuzz right now and it’s really loud inside my head.”

  Ollie started toward her, but she gave her head the minutest shake, it was a wonder he saw it.

  “When I was little, around Annie’s age,” Fiona said, “me and my mom went to visit some friends in Virginia and Mom took me to the park. It’d been raining so much we couldn’t get outside, so when it finally stopped raining, I was sure glad to get out there. I’d been eyeing that park for weeks. It had this big, long slide that spiraled down like—”

  “Fiona,” Harvey interrupted. “The queen has a lot of demands on her time. Can you tell her the most important part of the story?”