That Time She Broke Her Viking’s Curse
Erin St. Charles
That Time She Broke Her Viking’s Curse
By Erin St. Charles
Copyright ©2020 by Erin Martin
Originally published in the "Claimed by Temptation" collection as "That Time She Broker Her Viking’s Curse"
Cover Art by Erin Martin
Editing by Raw Books Editing
All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or within the public domain. Any resemblance to actual events or actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
No portion of this book may be reprinted, including by any electronic or mechanical means, or in information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission for the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.
ISBN: 978-1-7323959-7-8
Contents
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Erin St. Charles
Blurb
I’ve had to pay the price for my womanizing ways. This ancient Viking has spent over a thousand years living as a housecat under the specter of a curse placed on me by an angry witch. Bringing together 1000 sets of fated mates to end my predicament may sound easy, but since no one can see me, it’s a tall order that’s taking much longer than expected.
When I arrive in the small town of Perdition, I set to work making another love connection, only to find the unexpected. Auntie Greene is the first human to be able to see me in more than a millennium, which can only mean one thing…the woman is my fated mate.
And she might just be the solution to my curse.
Chapter One
Gunnar
Bringing together fated mates is my job.
I’ve matched every possible combination of fated mates: men and women. Men and men. Women and women. Ménage, aces, and so on. I’ve been doing this for centuries, thanks to a Viking witch’s curse.
You see, I had a bit of a reputation with the ladies in the village where I was born,. In between the raiding and pillaging we Vikings were known for, back then, I also did my fair share of womanizing.
I am not vain when I say I’m a good-looking bastard. Tall, fair-haired and muscular, like an actor playing Thor. Being handsome, and also the son of the village chieftain, assured my success with the opposite sex.
I was hard at work one fine winter day when I met my fated mate.
I was not expecting it—not at all—in part, because my job is to bring fated mates together. Finding my own fated mate, frankly, never occurred to me. I have been focused on my job with a single-minded focus for hundreds of years. As doing my job is the only way to break the curse.
One might ask, how did this come about?
Once upon a time, in the year 826 AD, I was the son of a local Viking chieftain in what is now Denmark. My name is Gunnar.
I was a handsome, young man, but even I can admit, also arrogant and privileged. As one of the chieftain’s younger sons, I had few responsibilities and spent most of my time pursuing wine, women, and song. One day, I engaged in a dalliance with a barmaid, and I am ashamed to say, I led the young woman along with promises of marriage, all the while also pursuing other women. When Astrid discovered my extracurricular activities, she demanded I follow through with the offer of marriage...but I refused. Unfortunately for me, Astrid was no common barmaid. In fact, her mother was one of the most powerful witches of her day. The witch cursed me by turning me into a familiar—in this case, a common house cat. The terms of my enchantment are this:
I would forever be invisible to everyone in my human form until my enchantment was broken.
I am to live indefinitely until I put 1000 sets of fated mates together, and would have no say in choosing my assignments.
After I have made a match, anyone who had known me as a cat would promptly forget I ever existed.
I can only be returned to my human form after I have mated the 1000 matches.
I was not a very mature man. Then, as now, handsome, young men with social standing and few responsibilities tend to be a little...self-absorbed. Still, I think I took my punishment with surprising equanimity, given my level of maturity and arrogance at the time.
But after a couple hundred years, materializing randomly all over the world to intervene in human affairs began to get old. Sure, I did derive a measure of satisfaction in helping the lovelorn find each other, and travelling the world instantly turned out to be more fun than even I could have imagined.
I lost everything that mattered to me on the day I was cursed. The life of an immortal is a lonely one; this is even more true when you are cursed with invisibility, and cursed to never be remembered.
I had never before wanted to be in a relationship, never wanted to be in love or find a woman of my own, but being a matchmaker for centuries began to make me wonder what it would be like to have a woman to call my own. I bore witness to all sorts of relationship drama, all the highs and the lows of mating and forming a lasting bond with the person or persons fate had chosen for someone.
I had never once considered what it might be like to have a mate of my own, at least, not before I arrived in Perdition, Texas.
The small shifter town west of Dallas was home to many generations of shape shifters and other supernatural creatures. I had, of course, heard of shifter towns, but shifters are pretty good at finding their fated mates, and so I had never experienced a shifter town firsthand.
No, I'd never set foot in a shifter town before I met Jasmine Greene and her dipshit, abusive boyfriend Jesse. Her case was a difficult one since Jasmine had been afraid to leave Jesse. She only left when I, Gunnar, in the guise of Fat Joey, vulnerable and blameless orange house cat, had been viciously kicked by Jesse in a fit of rage. She'd waited for Jesse to go to work one day, then fled with a bus ticket and me tucked into a small animal carrier.
We arrived in Perdition where Jasmine knew only one person in town, her Auntie Greene.
Auntie wasn't at all what I'd expected. I thought she'd be elderly, or at least middle-aged, but I was surprised to find her to be a young woman herself, and rather beautiful with the same smooth, nut-colored skin as her niece. She liked to wear bells on her ankles, go shoeless for reasons I could not discern, and had a different hairstyle every time I saw her. She wore t-shirts and long, loose skirts with tiny mirrors sewn into the fabric.
She was the kind of woman who made a man want to keep looking at her expressive face, her beautiful mouth, her dark eyes. So, that's what I did as Jasmine poured out her heart to Auntie about what had forced her to finally leave Jesse. Auntie picked me up and placed me in her lap to coo over me. She stroked my fur slowly, first with the direction of the hair's growth, then against it with small, burrowing digs of her fingertips. My skin twitched with a shiver of pleasure. I purred with contentment and scooted so that my belly was exposed to whatever affections she might choose to bestow on me. I had never felt so relaxed in hundreds of years.
I slow blinked at the beautiful woman who regarded me with a dreamy smile as she discussed Jasmine's situation with her. This was the most intimacy I'd experienced with a woman in decades. Looking into her dark eyes, I felt a connection between the two of us I had never before experienced with a woman.
Over the next few days, Auntie helped J
asmine, and by extension, me, obtain a modest used car, a safe place to live, and leads on new jobs in Waco, the next major city close to Perdition.
We wound up moving into the guest house of one, Mr. AJ Cotter, an artist who apparently spent much of his time on photography shoots for the immersive game experiences he created. The guest house was a one-bedroom cottage, a miniature replica of the hulking Tudor main house. It looked like the kind of little cottage seen in Disney movies. When the leasing agent opened the front door, I half expected to see a Snow White look-alike standing in front of a rustic hearth, singing, and holding out a hand to allow a bluebird to alight on her finger.
Jasmine agreed with my assessment, gushing at how adorable the place was. She signed the lease, and we moved in with only a futon to our names. Over the course of a few weeks, Jasmine found a new job. As an accountant, she didn't believe in spending money on new things when perfectly good, gently used things were available. Jasmine haunted the thrift store in town, bringing home solid pieces of furniture, telling me where she found each piece in a sort of running dialogue that never seemed to stop. We were settled in the house for several months before the owner showed up.
AJ Cotter was a tall, and I have to admit, good-looking fellow, with the rangy kind of build women went for. He didn’t have the virile masculinity I have, but I could see how his sandy brownish/reddish/blondish hair, and attractive boyish smile would appeal to Jasmine. I met him one day while Jasmine was at work.
He drove up in a battered, old pickup truck, wearing a flannel shirt and a pair of jeans. It occurred to me that he and Jasmine would look great together. I could imagine round-cheeked Jasmine tucked under AJ Cotter's arm, and him looking down at her with love and adoration with his shy smile and floppy hair.
I get a feeling when two people are supposed to be together. No one tells me when I meet the couple I'm meant to bring together. I just know.
I just knew in that moment Jasmine and AJ were my assignment.
So, I got to work. I padded up to AJ and watched him unpack his truck, which was filled with camera equipment. This took a good twenty minutes, and I sat in the gravel driveway for quite some time before AJ noticed me. He stopped his unpacking, grinned, and walked up to me.
"Hey there, buddy." The man squatted on his haunches, looking friendly. He had green eyes and didn't seem to have a mean bone in his body. When he scratched behind my ears, he was tender and gentle. Just the sort of man Jasmine needed.
I meowed and purred with approval. Yep, this man was Jasmine's mate. It was a little weird that we'd been living in his backyard for several months before he showed up. But, no matter. He was here now. It was only a matter of time before AJ and Jasmine found each other. After that happens, I will be snatched away to some other place, some other couple, to repeat the process all over again.
Every match is a cause for celebration. And a reason to say goodbye. Every goodbye a reminder of the profound loneliness that comes from being a thousand years old.
"Where did you come from?" Mr. McFriendly asked.
"Meow," I answered, because that's all my feline vocal cords can manage. I made growling, purring sounds and bumped my big cat head against the back of his hand. AJ scratched the ruff of my neck, and as much as I'm not crazy about being treated like a cat—which is what I am—I have to admit it felt nice.
He frowned at me and peered at the cottage. "Are you the new tenant?"
I swiveled my head to look up at him. "Meow!" I verbalized my affirmation.
He craned his neck at the cottage. I followed his line of sight, wondering what he was thinking. He strode over the gravel driveway, kicking up rock dust behind him. I plopped down on my corpulent cat ass and watched to see whether he would do something inappropriately privacy-invading. I mean, he does own the place, but that doesn't mean he should go poking around Jasmine's things when she's not around.
He approached the cottage, peered at it as if he'd never seen it before, and looked at the window. Jasmine has not yet purchased window coverings. The large picture window was bare and looked into the galley kitchen. He looked at me as if I knew what he was doing. I gave him one of my slow blinks, the closest approximation to a side eye I can manage in my feline form.
I waddled up to him, giving him another bland expression, and said, "Meow."
He looked at the door knob, squinting and frowning. He's curious, I could tell, but finally, he heaved a sigh and walked away, muttering to himself.
I decided to jog after him and slip into the house as he continued to unpack and put his things away. I discovered he leads a pretty boring life, doesn't do drugs but likes his wine, and has a sweet tooth. He doesn't like to do housework and half the food in his cooler had gone bad. I managed to sneak out again when he opened the door to get in his truck and go into town.
When Jasmine came home hours later, she noticed the old truck in the driveway, the lights on in the main house, and promptly ignored both.
Much to my frustration, this went on for months. Jasmine and AJ came and went at odd times. When they were both at home at the same time, neither of them seemed to have a particular interest in meeting the other. And why would they? Jasmine and AJ are tenant and landlord. She signed the lease with his business manager. She's an accountant; he's a creative type.
Still, they were meant to be, and I don't get to move to the next matchmaking assignment until they get it together. I had to get creative.
Jasmine had become withdrawn, more cautious, as a result of her relationship with Jesse. Her life had been compressed to a well-worn path of work, home, outfitting her cottage, and visiting Auntie.
On one of these occasions, I sensed an opening. She was making chocolate chip cookies to take to Sunday dinner with Auntie. Perdition rolls up its sidewalks early on Sundays. Just when she was about to add an egg to the mixing bowl, I bumped her with my large cat head.
"Stop that, Fat Joey!" Jasmine yelled at me as the egg dropped and shattered. She gave me a look of dismay.
She flapped her hands at me, trying to wave me away from the broken egg. I gave her one of my patent slow blinks, then before she had a chance to apply the five-second rule, because she keeps her floors clean enough to eat off, I leaned in and started lapping at the raw egg. Which was disgusting, really, but I needed to take one for the team.
"Seriously?" she wailed and nudged me with her foot, trying to get me to stop contaminating the egg with my cat tongue. I gave her another slow blink, and continued to lick at the broken egg. She wailed again, clenching and unclenching her hands, then stuffed her feet into her pink bunny slippers and shuffled her way to the main house.
I watched her knock on the kitchen door of the main house, push the slightly ajar door open even further, and venture in. I watched the back door close behind her, watched the two of them move around inside for about ten minutes, then Jasmine emerged looking a little flustered and holding two eggs.
Finally, I thought, as I made a show of slow blinking as if I'm bored, and licking my paws as if a meal of a broken egg was the most delicious thing ever, something requiring extensive grooming after consuming.
This encounter seemed to break the ice. They spent a few days checking each other out surreptitiously. Kind of like a pair of shy high school freshmen, checking each other out from behind the safety of their locker doors. The ice may have been broken, but they needed to break it all the way and be willing to fall in.
I decided to tag along the next time Jasmine visited Auntie, the better to get ideas to move the process along. I didn't mind seeing Auntie again either. She wouldn't rub me up the same way she had the day we'd met, but I liked her just the same. She has a sweet way about her, a demeanor that is intriguing and an attractive aura.
This was the tricky part of my curse. I'm only visible to humans as a cat, and only as long as my assignment lasts. I can assume a human form, but it's like I'm a ghost: invisible to humans, and non-corporeal. In the centuries I've been doing this, I have yet to have
any sort of human interaction where the other person is aware that I am a sentient being.
The next time Jasmine visited Auntie in her little apartment, I simply materialized and listened in as the two women chatted at the small kitchen table. Since no one could see me, I made myself at home, lounging on the tiny couch Auntie has in her living room, stretching my legs out. I briefly wondered how Auntie would feel about me putting my (admittedly, non-corporeal) feet on her coffee table.
I learned AJ is a native Perditionite, his family one of the few full human families in town. He creates immersive virtual reality games. Auntie volunteered this information unprompted, a heavy-handed non-sequitur that followed Jasmine reporting on her thankfully mundane work week. The more Auntie tried to get Jasmine interested in AJ's comings and goings, his suitability as a potential boyfriend, his all-American good looks, the more Jasmine deflected.
It occurred to me that Auntie was also trying to get AJ and Jasmine together, which was a curious development, indeed. I knew she called herself a "conjure-woman," though, I'm not entirely sure what this means.
"Auntie, I have to go," Jasmine said, standing suddenly and slinging her purse over her shoulder. She picked up her tea cup and moved toward the sink.
"Let me take that," Auntie said, following closely behind Jasmine. She reached for the tea cup, which Jasmine kept out of reach.
"You are not slick," Jasmine said, giving Auntie a pointed look. "You will not be reading my tea leaves, thank you very much."
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