Dreams of a Dark Warrior

FIFTEEN

You were a warlord in the Northlands,” the Valkyrie said.

Declan waved her on. But, as she’d done before, she seemed to be wrestling with a decision. Likely deciding the best way to deceive the mortal.

Or perhaps this wasn’t a game. Many of the older immortals grew maddened. She might believe what she said.

Yet her eyes looked lucid. “A berserker warlord.”

He froze. Of all the factions she could choose … Brandr had looked familiar to him. As had Regin.

No, this was some sort of scam, a plan to undermine him. He stifled his anger, knowing he would have to tolerate this bullshite in order to garner information from her. “Tell me what you consider a berserker to be.” To even pretend this was a possibility rankled, but he didn’t see an alternative.

“A berserker is a mortal born with uncommon speed and strength,” she said. “He worships the bear and can channel its ferocity into a berserkrage, making him as strong as the most powerful beings on earth. At least temporarily. Afterward, he’s debilitated.” She cast him a measuring glance.

He evinced no reaction, even as a suspicion began to arise. This might all go back to … Nïx.

“The berserkers swore allegiance to Wóden and fought battles in his name.”

Though myths rarely corresponded with reality, Declan had researched the Valkyrie’s. “Wóden is allegedly the father of the Valkyrie.”

She nodded. “I’m the daughter of gods. Well, two of my three parents are.”

“How is there a third parent?”

“When a maiden warrior calls out for courage as she dies, Wóden and Freya strike her with lightning and rescue her to Valhalla. I was in the lightning.” She glanced at his expression. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Immortals are notorious for aggrandizing their own origins. But I’ve learned never to discount any-thing completely.”

“Fair enough.”

“Though I do wonder, if your parents are deities, why would they let you be captured by me?”

“Wóden and Freya sleep to conserve power. They take sustenance from worship, and the last few centuries have been lean on the Norse god devotion.”

If any of this was true … Information here for the taking. “Who is the third parent?”

“She belonged to a people called the Radiant Ones, an ancient race of mortals who glowed. Does it soften you toward me to know that a mortal woman birthed me?”

It … surprised him. “Where is she? Where are the Radiant Ones located?”

“She’s long dead. They all are. I’m the last one of my kind.”

“How did they die?”

“Like I said, hers was an ancient race, and they were mortal. Time gives and time takes,” she said with a shrug, but her eyes flickered, belying her casual air.

“Berserkers, Valhalla, and Norse gods. I suppose you met Aidan over a horn full of mead.”

She stood, sauntering to one of the windows with that hip-swinging swagger that riveted his gaze and ratcheted up his pulse. Knowing she could hear his heartbeat, he tried to control it.

“Actually, I’d just left Valhalla when we met. And I didn’t drink mead. I was only twelve.”

“Where is Valhalla?”

Over her shoulder, she answered, “It’s a different dimension. A godplane.”

“So why would you leave? Wouldn’t that be like leaving heaven?”

“Yeah, but my sister Lucia was in trouble. So out I went into this strange and harsh world thinking to save her. I was attacked by vampires directly. Barely escaped them.”

“Is that why you hate them so much?”

“Partly. The Horde has been hard on the Valkyrie. All of the Pravus army has been. Do you know who they are?”

“I’m aware of your subjective delineations.” Their leagues. The Valkyrie, Wiccae, fey, and Lykae belonged to an alliance called the Vertas. The Horde vampires, some demons, and most of the more beastlike beings aligned with the Pravus.

“Just remember that the Vertas are the ones you want to pull for in the Accession.” She cocked her head. “You do know what the Accession is, don’t you?”

“Of course. It’s a war between all the factions in the Lore, occurring every five hundred years. We just don’t know when exactly or where it will play out.” When she chuckled, he grated, “What?”

“It’s not a single battle. It’s a force that pits factions against one another. The Accession drags us into conflict, keeping our numbers in check.”

Yet more intel. One of the things he’d hated most about detrus was how they spread uncontrollably, unchecked by disease, injury, or old age. Now she was telling him there existed an inherent mechanism to make them kill off one another? “Then why not resist that force?”

“Because it also seeds alliances and brings mates together. Plus, fighting is fun.”

“And now humankind will be dragged into your fun.”

At that, she burst out laughing. “Mortals in the Accession? I think you kids should ride the pine in this one.”

Christ, she got him riled. “Both the Vertas and Pravus have taken out specific human targets recently and aggressed against the Order itself. As in the past, we’ve had no choice but to defend ourselves against the threat both sides pose.”

She headed back to the couch. “I hate to correct you, but we just don’t know about you. I’d never heard of your little dot-org until you told me about it. No one I know has.”

“A war between immortals and humans is on the horizon.”

“Humans aren’t going to war against us—they have no clue we exist. The idea’s laughable.”

“One thing you all have in common? Arrogance. What’s laughable is for your kind to believe we aren’t aware of you. Part of our mission is to conceal your existence—an impossible task when you flaunt your-selves? You yourself brazenly go out in public with your skin glowing!”

She slapped her palms to her cheeks and cried, “My skin glows?” Then she grinned. “Should I be banished from public simply because I touched a radioactive alien cock once? Now you’re just being silly, Chase.”

Fuckin’ hate her! She was a foulmouthed, conscience-less killer, unfeeling at best and vicious at worst. And now she was assessing him with those uncanny eyes, her ears twitching.

His own eyes narrowed with realization. She was saying these things to provoke a rise out of him, to gauge his reactions. Before, he’d thought her flighty and heedless. Now he recognized that she’d been systematically uncovering chinks in his armor.

“Lookit, I didn’t come here to fight. I was telling you all about your being a berserker. Though you don’t believe a word of it.”

“My parents were normal mortals.”

“You must have inherited a recessive gene of something,” she said. “It’s not unheard of.”

“No, but it’s convenient.”

“I thought I saw recognition on your face when I spoke Old Norse to you.”

“Then you were mistaken,” he lied. Going mad. He’d looked up the language in the Order’s databases, but he’d comprehended none of it.

Though he’d understood her perfectly.

“Tell me, Chase, how’d you feel after capturing me in New Orleans? All petered out after your burst of strength?”

“Does anyone not feel fatigue after exertion, Valkyrie?”

“I’ll bet your senses are really acute. You can see and hear better than anyone you know, can’t you?”

He merely shrugged.

“I figured you’d deny your abilities.”

“I don’t deny them. I deny that I’m a berserker.”

“How can you admit to one but not the other?”

“I suspect your oracle Nïx set this up. She made sure you were caught by me, and that you’d been informed of any unusual skills I possess. A mortal berserker would match me most closely. This is all a scam.”

“Funny. You weren’t stupid in your other rein-carnations.”

Can’t throttle her again …

“I saw you’ve got another berserker here. Didn’t he feel familiar to you?”

“He’s in on this too. You two obviously know each other and crafted this plan. I checked on his capture—he all but lay down to be taken. As if he’d known you would be captured as well.”

The Valkyrie nodded. “He wanted in here so he could be near me. He’s my … protector.”

Protector. So they were lovers. Why did the idea make him want to beat the berserker into the ground?

Brandr’s hands on her glowing skin. Declan couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to kill this badly. His thoughts grew dim, primitive.

—Mine by right! Meant only for me.—

“Chase, your eyes are ablaze right now. Just go look in the mirror.”

He abruptly stood, crossing to the other window. “And give credence to your lies?”

She moved behind him. In a soothing voice, she murmured, “Be at ease.”

At once, he felt his lids growing heavy, his muscles relaxing. What hold does she have over me?

“What’s got you like this?”

His response to her only angered him more. “Your bullshite tales.”

“This is all true.”

He turned to her. “Then how do you explain what Nïx said to me? I was at Val Hall earlier on the night I captured you. When you drove by, she stared me directly in the face and mouthed, You’re late.”

“I’m going to kill her!” Lightning flashed just outside the window. “You’re right about one thing—Nïx did set this up. But I vow that I’m as much of a pawn as you are.”

“To what end?”

“She knew how much I missed Aidan. This would strike her as a perfect solution, forced intimacy and all that. She’s probably cackling with her creepy little bat right now.”

“Missed Aidan? Valkyrie, get your story straight. You just said you were with Brandr.”

She gave a laugh. “With Brandr? Please.” Another snicker. “No, I said he’s my protector. As in, he tries to look out for me.”

Declan’s relief disgusted him, making his ire escalate again. He moved away from her, back to his desk.

“Why would he sacrifice himself?”

“He was your best friend,” she said. “You made him vow that he’d earn ohalla and watch over me.”

“Ohalla?”

“If you won two hundred battles while bearing Wóden’s mark, he’d grant you immortal life and strength.”

True or not, this was fascinating. “What was his mark?”

“Two ravens.”

Declan just stifled the urge to touch the charm at his neck. The one imprinted with two birds in flight.

He cast his mind back to the day he’d gotten it. He’d been six, and the nightmares had just started. His da had been worried about him, and though their family could ill afford it, he’d taken Declan and Colm to a fair. A fortune-teller had given Declan the charm, telling him to keep it close to his heart for luck. …

“Chase?”

He quickly said, “That’s why Brandr is deathless?”

“Yeah, against all odds, he earned ohalla. Now he’s as strong as most vamps and demons. Fast, too. When he hits a rage, he could take on even a Lykae.”

“He kept his vow this long?” So Aidan had enjoyed Regin as his woman and a loyal friend as well.

“For the first two hundred years, he followed me and Lucia everywhere, ready to step in with the rescuing. We ditched him at every opportunity. Finally Nïx felt sorry for him and told him she’d let him know if I was in danger—or if you were returning.”

“Why didn’t Aidan earn ohalla?”

“You were working on it, intending to marry me once you became immortal.” She sat on the floor with her knees to her chest, her head resting against the window. “You asked me to stay with you while you fought your battles. To me, you should have been merely an interesting mortal, but something about you drew me. I decided to give you a chance.” She smiled to herself, murmuring. “As well as my virginity.”

He tensed, appalled to catch himself wondering what it would’ve been like to be her first lover.

He knew what she was doing, knew she was planting the seed so he’d imagine it. And he did, envisioning laying her down and inching his way into her untried sex. Catching her gasp of surprise with his lips …

He grew hard yet again. Earlier, one look at her braless breasts in that T-shirt had made him stiff as wood. Before encountering her, he’d gone ten years without so much as a twitch. And now this. Where was his control?

“Even after a millennium, I just have to think about us together and my claws curl.” She twisted around so he could see them.

They had curled. His voice rougher, he asked, “What do your claws have to do with it?”

She gave a laugh. “You’ll find out soon enough.” Before he could demand an answer, she continued, “Life in your camp was satisfying. Life with you was”—she sighed wistfully—“thrilling.”

“Who was Aidan warring against?”

“Leeches. Always the Vampire Horde. You’d positioned your army in a strategic pass, and every day you battled them back, to protect the mortal villages in the valley below. You, a berserker from the Lore, saved thousands of human lives.”

He impatiently waved her on.

“You kept your army honed and well trained, and your men loved you, would have followed you into hell.”

Declan’s men feared and despised him. And I don’t give a shite as long as they follow orders.

In a distant tone, she began to describe camp life—the dress, the weapons, the mead hall with snarling bears’ heads on the walls—until he could almost smell the smoke of fire pits and roasting game, could nearly hear the incessant clang of swords in the training yard.

It was a man’s world she described, one that appealed to Declan.

He found himself relaxing, getting caught up in her tale. And all the while she searched his face for glimmers of recognition. “Any of this ringing a bell?”

“Not as of yet. Continue.”

“You trained me yourself. I carry two swords to this day because of you. I’d always wanted to wield this great sword, but it was longer than I was tall.” Then she frowned. “At least, I used to carry those swords.”

“I have them stored here.” Mere feet from her was the concealed entry into the storage bay. Her weapons were within.

“Do you?” she said nonchalantly, but her eyes had flickered silver. Those swords were very important to her. “I still remember the day you gave them to me.” Her face grew soft as she said, “It was a day of firsts.” A secretive smile played about her lips.

That smile and her sensual tone got his back up. A day of firsts? He could only imagine what kind of firsts. Jealousy toward this Aidan seared him inside, made Declan want to hurt her for loving him. “Yet your Aidan died.”

Her smile faded. “Yes. A vampire traced into our home and slew him.”

“You care a great deal about those swords—a gift from your first lover. After a thousand years of acquiring possessions, are these your most cherished?”

More flickering.

“They are,” he said. “I think I’ll destroy them if you don’t provide information about your kind.”

“Do it. I don’t give a damn.”

“Immortals can’t bluff, Regin. Your changeable eyes always give you away. And from your reaction, I’d wager you’d do just about anything to preserve them. Answer my questions, or I’ll melt them down myself.”

“You expect me to jeopardize my sisters?”

“Can all Valkyrie channel energy? Start talking, or I’ll give your precious weapons to Warden Fegley, let him fuck about with them. Maybe I’ll dispatch them to the Horde with your compliments? Vampires should possess the swords that have felled so many of their kind.”

Instead of arguing, she rose and sauntered over to him, swinging those hips. A lesser man could grow enthralled with the movement.

“Chase?” she murmured.

He stood as well. “What?” The air around her was electric, pricking his skin, but it felt good—it felt familiar. As she drew near, it intensified until he was almost shuddering. He stared down at her silver eyes. Mesmerizing.

Thunder rumbled the walls. “Hold on tight, Magister.”