Dreams of a Dark Warrior

FIFTY-SEVEN

“Let us have him!”

“This has nothing to do with you, Valkyrie.”

“He’ll pay with his life!”

Loreans were out for Chase’s blood, which meant Regin was out for theirs.

But at her command, Lucia sighed. “Really, Regin? Release the hounds?” She stood at the gate, her hand on the mystical lever.

“Nut up or shut up, Luce. I’m tired of looking at these assholes, tired of listening to them. Let’s do this.”

With a roll of her eyes, Lucia said, “I’ll be on the porch with Nïx, acting as your spotter.” Then she opened the gate.

As beings of all stripes stalked toward Val Hall, Regin choked up on her sword hilt, ready to swing for the fences—

A man’s deep voice rang out. “Regin!”

“Chase?” Barely daring to believe, she glanced over her shoulder. He was alive!

He and Brandr had come barreling out the front door, but when they tried to make it past the wraiths, those guards hurtled them back.

Lurching to his feet, his face a mask of fury, Declan charged forward again, hitting the barrier like a freight train. The wraiths shrieked. Never heard them do anything but cackle.

The third time he charged, he was in full-on berserkrage. Nïx negligently tossed a braid, and the wraiths were all too happy to let him alone speed through.

As he closed in on her, Regin’s jaw dropped, and the fracas ground to a halt. Chase was huge, and scarred, and he looked dangerous. His muscles rippled, his eyes burning with ferocity as his gaze locked on her.

And gods, she was so freaking in love with him.

“Chase!” She ran to him, and he caught her up in his arms, clasping her tight. “You’re alive!” She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “And uh, really strong.” He loosened his grip on her. She drew back to see him casting her foes a look of such pitiless menace that even the stronger ones backed down.

Then he set her behind him, bowing up his chest, a low growl rumbling from it. A creature with which one did not fuck.

Once the beings retreated in a wave—cloistering themselves behind the gates, as if that’d protect them—he turned to her. He took several deep breaths, grappling for control. Finally, he grated, “And what were you doin’, Regin?”

She jutted her chin. “About to grease every last one of them.”

He cast her a chiding look. “And you did no’ tie one hand behind your back? Where’s the sport, lass?” Then he wrapped the crook of his arm around her nape. “You’re no’ goin’ to fight my battles. I’ve done these things, and I’m ready to pay the price.”

“The hell! I’ve finally got you—you think I’m letting you go that easily?”

“We can’t run forever. I have to face anyone who’d challenge me.”

“Just hear me out. While you were napping, I was busy chatting up our allies. Didn’t you know—your woman’s a golden-tongued ambassador! My sisters always said I graduated from the shock-and-awe school of diplomacy, but joke ’em if they can’t take a fuck, right?”

Chase nodded gravely. “Joke ’em.”

“So anyway, we’ve got some wicked strong allies lined up. These tossers here just missed the memo. The Valkyrie are all on board; a slight against you is a slight against them. All’s forgiven with the witches. In fact, Malkom Slaine even feels bad for fileting you! He and Carrow literally shuddered to think what their lives would have been like if you hadn’t dispatched Carrow to hell. There was talk of sending you a card at Beltane! So the Valks are down, and the witches are down. Oh, and I talked to Brandr. Get this—”

“The berserkers are down?”

“Way to steal my thunder, Chase.”

“Regin, I can’t depend on you or any others to fight my battles. I made my own mistakes. That means I must also make sacrifices.”

Nïx gave a delicate cough from the porch swing. “No one’s sacrificing anything.” She called out to any creature who still remained within earshot, “Declan the Fierce is under my aegis. If you kill him, you risk my displeasure.” Lightning bolts scored the sunny sky like bomb blasts, sending beings scattering. Nïx called after them, “But by all means, smack him around!”

Sunny day? Sunny— “What are you doing?” Regin shrieked to Chase. “Why aren’t you burning? Where are your fangs?”

He rubbed his tongue over his teeth. “Do no’ have any.”

“So how’d you heal?”

When Nïx rose to enter the house, Regin grabbed Chase’s hand and hurried after her. “Whoa, there, soothsayer. How can he go out in the sun?”

Nïx blinked. “Where’d everyone go? What were we talking about?” Her eyes went wide. “I remember! Chase is an immortal now.” She gazed at Brandr, Lucia, Natalya, and Thad. “We’ll all have an ice-cream cake to celebrate! Except for we don’t have a freezer!”

“Nïx, why didn’t he turn into a vampire?”

“I suppose because he never died.”

Regin turned to him. “I get to keep you? You’re immortal!”

“Aye, though I don’t understand how.”

“I believe I do,” Brandr said. “While you were unconscious, I looked at your dog tags. The charm on the back of one is the mark of Wóden. You’ve carried it on a standard, a naval flag, a cavalry crest, and tattooed upon your chest. Your battle with the Pravus might just have been your two hundredth.”

Declan’s heart started hammering. If this could be true …

“I believe you earned ohalla, brother,” Brandr said. “The battle count must have been cumulative, the number following the soul, not the body.”

“But Wóden wouldn’t gift me with it. Not after my deeds in the past.”

Regin quickly said, “Let’s don’t ask too many—or really any—questions. You’re an immortal, and you’re a berserker. That’s all we need to know.” Thank you, Wóden, thank you, thank you …

Chase murmured, “An immortal berserker.”

Brandr punched him in the arm. Hard. “Took you long enough.”

Regin asked Nïx, “Why didn’t he turn into Aidan?”

“Chase is too strong. Always will be. And he wants you too badly to ever slink into the background.”

Chase frowned at Nïx. “Why did you … why would you vouch for me?”

“I’ve been looking out for you since you were a boy.” Imitating an Oirish accent, she said, “Want yer fortune told, me boy? A medallion for luck?”

“You gave the charm to me.”

“Yes. And before you ask me why I would let everything else happen to you, know this. That misery hardened you, made you grow strong. Without it, your life would’ve faded to a whisper in Aidan’s mind. And Declan Chase suits my sister better.” She patted Regin on the head. “Regin doesn’t do perfect.”

Chase was quiet for long moments, then his lips curled into a breathtaking smile that made Regin’s heart flutter. “Then I’m her man.”

Mourne Mountains

One month later

A crackling fire cast light over the cabin’s rough-hewn interior. A tray of oyster shells and an empty can of Guinness sat on the table.

Declan and Regin lazed in a big tub before the fireplace, her back to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

As promised, he’d made love to her more times than she could count. And as she’d told him, they’d been through too much together to ever hold back from one another.

Her tone utterly relaxed, she asked, “So what mayhem are we going to get up to today?”

“Lady’s choice. I’m game for anything. But after the mayhem, we should start markin’ things off our list. Get married, house-hunt, shop for the new swords I’m keen to buy you. …”

Content merely to celebrate a future together, they’d accomplished little. Though before leaving for Ireland, they had gotten Thad and his family settled in New Orleans—into the newly established Lore Relocation Program.

Regin and Nïx had decided the boy should be moved close by so that the Valkyrie could keep him and his family safe from the Order, and to guide him into immortality.

Turned out that young Thad was half vampire, half phantom—one of the rarest Lore mixes ever to live. He’d grow to be a powerful hybrid, with untold abilities. Definitely a key player to have on Team Vertas.

So the Declan Chase Restitution Fund had purchased a quaint little mansion in the Garden District for the Brayden family. Regin hadn’t quite gotten around to informing Declan that he’d bought it before Thad had loped up to him and walloped him on the back. “DC, I’m really glad you pulled through. And thanks big-time for moving Mom and Gram to New Orleans.”

Declan had raised his brows at Regin. “Did I move Mom and Gram to New Orleans?”

Regin had nodded up at him. “The Brayden women about fell out when they saw pics of the place. We’re telling them you’re a long-lost uncle from the Emerald Isle. …”

Unfortunately, some beings couldn’t be bought off by the restitution fund. Like Uilleam MacRieve, who’d been out for blood—and nothing less would do.

Anticipating Lucia’s interference, the werewolf had come a’calling at Val Hall, but Nïx had taken care of him. As she’d informed Regin, “I simply told Uilleam that one of your offspring was a mate to one of his. He’d never deprive one of his offspring of a mate!”

Regin had been dubious. “Is that even true?”

“Surely? It sounds reasonable. And I didn’t specify how many generations.”

Still, Lucia’s upcoming royal wedding was gonna be tense. And Regin and Nïx’s bridesmaids’ dresses? Hid-e-ous.

When Natalya saw Regin in it, the fey would never let her live it down. Nat and Brandr were both attending. Not together, though. They’d given it one more shot between them, but both zigged again or something, so now they were just friends.

Declan began tracing the backs of his fingers up and down her arm. “What did you and Nïx talk about today?”

“I again tried to get her to explain Lothaire’s ‘unbreakable ties’ comment. But she gave me nothing.” Regin hadn’t paid much attention to the vamp when he’d warned her of a connection between him and Declan. Now, she was jonesing to know the fine print.

And both she and Declan wondered what Lothaire’s open-ended vow would entail.

“I don’t feel tied to him,” he said. “If I did I might be able to find him—then I could kill him, just to ease your mind. …”

The vampire remained a specter in the background, bent on getting that ring, which meant he’d be hunting Commander Webb next. With Declan’s memories, the vampire could locate Webb’s home, could circumvent every security measure. Though Declan had said nothing, Regin had sensed conflict in him. She’d suggested he call the man and give him a heads-up, and then they’d be even for Webb saving his life.

The conversation had been rife with tension, but in the end Webb had said, “I told the Order that you died on the island. And I’ll stick to that, but only if you stand down against our mission.”

Declan had replied, “You told me I was either on your side or theirs. You were right. Harm any among my allies, and I’ll retaliate.”

With that, she’d known he’d shaken away the last of the brainwashing and had come back into the fold, her born-again Lorean.

Things weren’t perfect. But damn, they were getting close. …

“Did your sister have any update on who stole my bloody boat?”

“None. Nïx just kept calling it the Love Boat. Today she sang that it ‘promises something for everyone.’ Hey, we didn’t need it anyway.”

“But they took my boat,” he grumbled.

Regin gave a laugh. “You are such a … a berserker.” When she turned over on her front to rest her chin on her hands, his shaft pulsed beneath her. “Already?” she murmured with delight.

He grinned down at her, treating her to that breathtaking smile. Over the last month, he’d even begun laughing with her, her own personal captive audience to entertain.

“It’s your own fault for being irresistible. And I am a berserker through and through, possessive of everything that’s mine.” His hands trailed down to cup her ass. “Admit it, you’ve got to be relieved I’m no’ a vampire.”

She shook her head. “I would’ve taken you any way I could get you, boyo.”

“And if you’d given me leave to, lass, I’d have come back for you a thousand times.”

“Luckily”—she leaned up, brushing her lips against his—“the fifth time’s a charm. …”