Dreams of a Dark Warrior

EIGHTEEN

Chase is having the dreams.

As soon as Vincente escorted her into the magister’s office the next night, Regin knew. Chase had begun reliving Aiden’s time with her, remembering them sexually.

His eyes were on her like a hawk’s, his gaze possessive and familiar. He was looking at her like a man who’d seen her naked—and liked the view.

The dreams marked the beginning of the end for each of Aidan’s reincarnations. Normally this stage would send her into hysterics.

But now it meant progress. Right? Press on, Regin.

“Leave us,” Chase told the guard, never glancing away from her.

Vincente turned without a word, his face expression-less as usual.

When they were alone, Regin said, “Vincente doesn’t think it’s weird for me to be coming here?”

“It’s not his job to think. He’s only supposed to follow my orders.”

Chase’s voice was naturally raspy, but tonight it was even huskier, making her ears twitch in reaction.

“So, I was about to lodge a formal complaint about Fegley,” she said. “But this doesn’t seem to be a customer-service-oriented establishment.” Again, she hopped up on his desk, onto his perfectly stacked papers. His brows drew together, but he didn’t bother ordering her away.

“Any minute now, I expect that little tool to say, ‘It rubs the lotion on its skin.’ He’s gonna meet a bad end.”

“You’re psychic now? Or making futile plans?”

“I’m just old.” She sighed. “You see guys like him over and over, and you get to be a crack at predicting it. And speaking of ridiculously ineffectual workers … Dixon keeps staring at me with those buggy Where’s Waldo? glasses. It’s almost as if she’s fantasizing about playing with my insides. Oh, wait. She is.” Regin tilted her head. “I’ll bet she fantasizes about you even more.”

“Jealous?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Of course I’m jealous.”

“I’m surprised you’d admit it.”

“You were mine first. My dibs are ten centuries old.”

“What Dixon and I do is none of your concern.”

“Well, if she’s your type, then whatever. I just thought a man like you would crave a real woman. Someone who’s strong enough to handle your power and sensual enough to slake you.” Regin moved to the center of his desk, sitting atop another stack of papers. This time he didn’t seem to notice at all.

“At least she is a woman. And not a Valkyrie.”

“Baby, I’m all woman.” She spread her legs suggestively, so he was sitting between them. “Uncuff me and let me show you what you’ve been missing all your life.”

Declan believed she’d do it. He could lay her back on that desk, strip off her clothes, and enter her right now.

The most beautiful woman he’d ever encountered.

And for a moment, everything within him was in perfect accord with the idea.

All day his thoughts had returned to that dream of her and the berserker. He’d grown hard at intervals, wondering how much longer he could go without relieving the pressure that continued to build.

His concentration had been wrecked, his workload escalating. Running an installation of this size was a job for five men—and he delegated little—but he’d never minded, preferring to stay slammed with work.

Now it felt like the reins were slipping from his grasp. Professionally, personally. Sexually?

“Come on, Chase,” she murmured, “I can feel your tension—you’re like a powder keg about to blow.”

They will separate you from your purpose … “I’d never lower myself to bed one of your kind.”

She shrugged, but he thought he caught a flash of hurt in her eyes. “Might not be me. But it’s not Dixon, either.”

“So certain?”

“I know you, remember?”

“Prove it, then.”

“I know you’re in constant turmoil. Your past lives competing with your present.” She lowered her voice. “You once told me that it feels like a beast is inside you, frenzied to get out. From the look on your face, you still feel that way.”

How the hell could she know that?

Years ago, when Declan had finally confessed to Webb about that constant sense of urgency clawing at him, Webb had nodded knowingly. “It’s a calling, son. That’s what you feel, have always felt.” Declan was to channel that into his vocation—destroying the deathless ones.

So why did the strain fade whenever he was with Regin?

“You dreamed about me last night, didn’t you?” she asked. “You always used to in the past, told me you did right up to the point when you remembered all.”

Immediately on edge, he demanded, “How did you make me experience that dream? Was it dreamcasting?”

“I don’t have that ability.”

“Bullshite!” His accent slipped yet again.

“Chase, even if I could dreamcast, how could I do it … when I’m wearing a torque?”

He swallowed. No, no, anything’s possible in the Lore. Another being could have affected him, or Regin could even have done this to him before he’d captured her.

“Face it. You are a berserker, and you are a reincarnate.”

If I’m one of them, the Order will kill me. His eyes darted. No, she’s got me spooked. This isn’t real.

When he gave a hard shake of his head, she said, “Then how do you explain your strength and speed? Unless you take top-secret military speed or hyper-steroids to hulk out?”

“I do nothing to make myself stronger.” Just the opposite.

“Then what?”

Blood that wasn’t my own. “Maybe I was nicked in a battle with one of your kind and was exposed to tainted immortal blood. Perhaps I’ve picked up traits of the creatures I hunt.”

“That’s not how it works. You can’t just pick up traits. At least, not permanently. Not unless you die with one’s blood in your veins and get transformed into an immortal.”

Maybe he wasn’t turning into a Neoptera?

She grinned at him as she asked, “You haven’t died yet, have you?”

I … don’t know. Those beings could have done any manner of things to him over those days and nights.

His heart sped up as he tried to pierce that haze. Damn them all to hell, a man should know if he’s died or not.

As if she’d read his mind, she said, “If you hate us this badly, then you or someone you love was hurt by immortals. Considering your scars …” She pointed to the ones on his face, the ones that were relatively invisible compared to the rest covering his body.

“So you have me all figured out.”

“You’re not denying it, then. I’m guessing your parents were killed?”

Killed was too mild a word for what the Neoptera had done to them. Those creatures had voracious mouths that opened vertically, their lips razor-sharp for cutting flesh. Their tongues were prehensile, stretching inches long.

Declan had felt them probe beneath his skin. Now he barely stifled a shudder.

“Chase?”

“You didn’t guess a wife and children,” he said absently. “Though most would, considering my age.”

“No, you’ve never been married.”

“And how could you know that?”

“In all your lifetimes, you’ve never even had a relationship with another. I’ll bet you’ve never slept with the same woman twice.”

Dead on. “Why would you say that?”

“You hate it with others. You feel sick afterward.” In a softer tone, she said, “Because you’re missing what we had and want to stay true.”

He clenched his jaw, recalling all the times he’d barely kept from vomiting, remembering with humiliation the times he hadn’t. …

“Aidan—”

His gloved hand shot up. In an instant he had her hair wrapped around his fist, yanking her head down. “Do not call me by that name again, Valkyrie. This will be your last warning.”

“Okay, fine,” she said mildly, but her eyes had flashed.

Silvery eyes gazing up at me, with her hair coiled around my fist as I guide her down …

He released her with disgust.

She was undaunted. “Let’s talk in your room. Take me there.”

“Why would I possibly do that?”

“Because that’s where your bed is, and that’s where I belong.”

He imagined her in his bed as she’d been in that dream, spread out like an offering, her bared skin alight. Her thighs would be parted with blatant need, those golden curls slick with it. …

Duty, purpose, he repeated urgently.

“Come on, Chase.”

“Tell me, if I take you to my room and put you in my bed, what do you think would happen?”

“I can draw you a diagram. Hint: I’m slot B, and you’re tab A.”

“I meant the ultimate outcome. Do you think I’ll free you if you please me enough? You’re not the first detrus who’s tried to whore for her freedom.”

“Whore for my freedom?” She laughed again. “What if I just wanted to whore for whoring’s sake? Maybe I miss sex with you. Maybe I crave it.”

“Wouldn’t be surprising. Most immortal females behave like they’re in heat.”

Her brows rose. “You are the one who taught me about pleasure.”

Memories from that dream continued to arise unbidden. —Press your lips here, Reginleit.—

“And now in another lifetime, you ridicule me for missing it? Come on, Chase. Take me to where you live. Scared I’ll find some footy pajamas? A Fleshlight? I want a bath almost as much as you need to watch me take one. I get so much more talkative when I’m clean. Loreans are really fastidious, you know.”

“I do know that. The sole aspect of your kind that’s positive.” He leaned back in his chair. “This subject ends now.”

She sighed. “Stubborn. Just like a man I knew whose name starts with A.”

“I’m not this Aidan you revere. I’m nothing like him.”

“You’re so similar it’s uncanny. You’re both warriors, the strongest and best at what you do. That’s been the same with each of the reincarnations.”

Curiosity got the best of him, and he asked, “What were the others?”

“You’ve been a knight, a privateer, and a cavalry officer. Warriors all. Yet each embodiment emphasizes specific facets of Aidan’s personality. The first was Treves, a medieval French knight, notorious across Europe. He represented Aidan’s ruthlessness and power.”

“How did you meet him?”

“Fate. We were both in France one winter for a castle siege.”

“Shouldn’t you have been in Valhalla?”

Sadness flashed in her expression. “I never get to go back to Valhalla. Once you leave, you’re forbidden to return.” Before he could ask her about that, she continued, “Lucia—she’s my favorite sister—and I were defending the old Earl of Lanbert’s castle.”

“Why?”

“Lanbert’s forefathers hailed from the North, and his line still worshipped the Valkyrie. Lucia and I decided to reward their prayers and offerings—by pledging swords and bow to the defense of their home. Plus, we were bored out of our gourds.”

“Was Treves another ally?”

“Not at all. You see, we were defending the castle against you.”