In the Company of Vampires

Chapter 17

“It’s going to be dawn soon,” Ben commented several hours later, as we approached the Faire.

“Then we’d better try summoning Loki now, before the sun comes up. I’d much rather do it when you’re able to be with me.”

I’m glad to know you don’t shun my help.

I told you before—I’ve never shunned your help. I just don’t like it when you try to take over things I’m supposed to do.

It’s in my nature to do so, I’m afraid. I have to constantly remind myself that you wouldn’t like it if I shielded you from trials.

My heart warmed at his admission, and by the fact that he was trying to accommodate himself to me just as I was to him.

When do you get your soul back?

I don’t know. It will return at some point.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. There was the faintest shadow of a thought behind those words, something he was keeping from me. I ran over the seven steps that Imogen had told me were needed for a successful Joining: all of them from the marking, protection, various bodily exchanges, and emotional trust had been completed. So why didn’t Ben have his soul? I made a mental note to ask Imogen

“Goddess! Finnvid is sitting on my hot fried fish.”

I turned around and looked in alarm at where Isleif was trying to dig something out from underneath Finnvid. “What hot fried fish?”

“The hot fried fish we pillaged from the hot fried fish shop.” Isleif gave a mighty heave and held up a squashed blue and white box. “There, you see? It’s squashed. The hot fried fish panini is as flat as a gelding’s bollocks.”

Finnvid looked guilty. “I didn’t know that was there.”

“By the gods, you didn’t!” Isleif looked like he wanted to punch Finnvid, and since the three of them were crammed into the back of our borrowed car, I felt it best to quell any sort of squabble.

“I’m sure Finnvid didn’t mean to sit on your late-night snack, although I would like to point out that you three managed to clean out that fast-food place’s all-you-can-eat buffet, and shouldn’t need late-night snacks to begin with. I thought the owner was going to call the cops on us until Ben handed over his hard-earned money to pay for the vast amount of fish and shrimp and strudel you three ate.”

“You ate a lot, too,” Finnvid pointed out.

I glared at him before turning to face the front again. “I was recovering my strength. And it’s not polite to notice how much a woman eats. We get paranoid about that sort of thing.”

“Aye, it does take a lot to recover from a three-hour rutting,” Eirik allowed.

I sighed. “I told you guys to please move past that. We weren’t rutting the entire time. It just seems that way because you guys insisted on standing outside the door to our room.”

“How many times did you hear the goddess yell?” Eirik asked Isleif, who was busily trying to reshape his squashed fish sandwich into something resembling the original form.

“Three.”

“I heard four,” Finnvid said, idly eating a potato wedge from Isleif’s fish box.

“It wasn’t anything like that!” I said, appalled and amused at the same time. I’d long since given up hope of ever having anything even remotely approaching privacy around the Vikings.

“It was four,” Ben said.

I glared at him.

“Well, it was,” he answered the glare.

“Possibly, but you don’t have to encourage them.”

“Four times?” Eirik pursed his lips and looked with new consideration at Ben, who I was annoyed to note had a remarkably smug air about him. “Just the goddess, or both of you?”

“Eirik!”

He raised his eyebrows at my outraged look. “If it was you who found pleasure four times, then that is nothing. But if the Dark One is able to rut with you four separate times in three hours, we wish to know how he does it. Even Finnvid can’t empty his stones four times in three hours, and he’s happy to rut with anything.”

Finnvid adopted a modest expression.

I looked at Ben. “Do you think the Vikingahärta has enough power to zap them back to Valhalla?”

“I don’t know, but it’s definitely worth a try.” Ben pulled up at the now empty parking field, smiled, then said something in what sounded to my nonlinguistic ears as Swedish.

What did you say? I asked as the Vikings piled out of the car, murmuring to themselves.

I said three.

Three?

Yes, three.

It took me a minute before I realized what he meant. I socked him on the arm, which just made him laugh and put the very same arm around me. I’m sorry, Francesca. I assure you that I had no intention of kissing and telling. But there is a matter of my sexual prowess to be considered.

Your sexual prowess is no one’s business but ours, and to be honest, I’m amazed I can still walk.

He laughed again, and pulled me closer. Shall we go to your mother’s trailer and leave the summoning for tonight? I can’t guarantee you that I’m up to another three times, but I believe I can at least make you yell out my name a couple of times.

I really won’t be able to walk if you do.

“Summons it is, then,” he said, but he pinched my behind as he said it.

The sky was starting to tint rose by the time we assembled in the isolated spot in the far pasture. I held the Vikingahärta in both hands, ignoring the now faded yellowish smudges on the palm of my left hand.

I cleared my mind, focused on the image of Loki, and repeated the invocation.

At first, I thought nothing was going to happen. The air in front of us wavered a little, as if something might be resisting the summons, but after a half minute of anticipation, it finally shimmered into a swirly oval and parted to reveal the form of a man.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Alphonse de Marco snarled as his form solidified. “Why have you summoned me again, foolish mortal?”

“Bullfrogs!” What is going on? Why do I keep getting him when I’m trying to summon Loki?

I don’t know, but I don’t like it. “My Beloved is not mortal, nor did she summon you intentionally,” Ben said, stepping in front of me. “What ties do you have to the god Loki?”

De Marco spat out a word that would shock a sailor, and dissolved into nothing.

“Houston, I think we have a problem,” I said as I sat on a large rock and looked down at my hands. The Vikingahärta looked perfectly fine. I squinted at it in the light of Ben’s lantern. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. So why wasn’t it working?

“Try it again,” Ben suggested.

“What if we get Mr. Pissy again? I don’t like him, Ben. He wanted to use you in all sorts of experiments, and I don’t think they would be fun ones.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t be, but you need have no fear. I will protect you from him.”

I tipped my head to the side. “And I will protect you from him, right?”

He looked away.

“Right?”

“I am fully capable of taking care of myself, Francesca.”

As am I, but we’re a team now, remember? Partners. That means we watch out for each other’s backs, and you can just stop thinking that you’ll let me think I can protect you, but really will keep me out of any form of danger, because not only can I hear that, but it’s cow cookies. Either we work together, Ben, or this just isn’t going to be good for either of us.

He sighed. I will do what I must to protect you—I can do no other. But I do appreciate you watching my back.

That’s not quite what I said, but it’s a good enough start. I took a deep breath. “All right. Trying again. Everyone stand back.”

The Vikings moved back a few paces, the three of them forming a semicircle in front of us. Ben moved closer behind me, his hand warm and reassuring on my back. I have confidence in you, Beloved.

A little glow of pleasure grew in me at his words. I used it to fuel my intentions, set the image of Loki foremost in my mind, and spoke the invocation. “By the fire that burns within thee, by the earth that feeds thee, by the air that hides thee, by the Vikingahärta that holds thee.” As it did the other times, the valknut grew warm as I spoke the words. “Deceiver, slayer, trickster, betrayer. I invoke thee and call upon thee to descend here.”

A spate of very irate Italian emerged from the air as a familiar figure formed in front of Ben and me. “I will not tolerate this again!” De Marco drew a symbol in the air that glowed blue black, then said as he disappeared, “Renata! Kill them!”

Ben shoved me hard to the side as from the depths of the shimmering air a woman’s shape formed, then morphed into that of a russet-colored wolf. The wolf-woman leaped on Ben with a flurry of razor-sharp teeth and claws. I screamed as I flung myself onto her back, trying desperately to wrench her off him.

The Vikings’ war cry startled me, giving Eirik the break he needed to jerk me off of the wolf, his sword raised high in the air.

“Don’t hurt Ben!” I shrieked, dancing around the battling pair. Renata the wolf had her jaws clamped on Ben’s neck, clearly trying to rip out his jugular. Ben rolled them over, both hands on her massive wolf snout, trying desperately to pry off her slavering maw. Renata kicked out and they rolled over again, obviously hindering the Vikings’ attempts to get at her. Ben, stop! The Vikings will help you if you can hold her still!

Easier said than done, he grunted, pain seeping into my head.

I yelled and clutched the Vikingahärta, willing it to blast the wolf to smithereens, but all it did was gently hum in my hands.

Now, Ben yelled as he rolled onto his back, a spray of blood arcing into the air, warning that she had hit an artery. I knew full well that Ben wouldn’t die from just that, but if she managed to rip out his entire throat, he might not survive.

“Get her!” I shrieked to the Vikings.

They did, and with such efficiency that it was only a few seconds later that the bloodied corpse of a wolf lay crumpled next to Ben. I was on him in an instant, pulling back the remains of his tattered shirt to see how bad his injuries were.

The claw marks on his chest had a strangely familiar appearance, but it was the mangled and bloody flesh of his neck that kept my attention. I ripped off a piece of his shirt and held it to the arcing blood. By the love of the goddess, Ben! You’re hurt bad.

No. I’ve lost some blood, but I’m all right. You can stop thinking all those morbid thoughts of spending the rest of your life mourning me, because it would take more than a therion in wolf form to kill me.

Do you want me to call Imogen?

No, but if you don’t mind feeding me as soon as I’m done healing up the worst of these wounds, I would greatly appreciate it.

It took him almost a half hour to recover to the point where he could sit up. The wounds had long since closed, although he was weak from loss of blood.

“I’m sorry, Ben,” I apologized as I sat on the ground with him, allowing him to lean on me as he fed from my upper arm. “If I hadn’t tried summoning Loki, it wouldn’t have gone all wrong, and we wouldn’t have gotten de Marco again. It’s my fault you were attacked.”

“Mayhap you’re cursed,” Eirik said. The three Vikings had hauled off the corpse of Renata—who remained in wolf form, contrary to popular movie lore regarding shape-shifters—and returned to clean their weapons with handfuls of grass.

“Cursed? Me?”

“Aye. Why else would Loki refuse to come when you summoned him?”

I thought about that for a minute. “Could I be cursed?” I asked Ben.

He lifted his head from my arm, his tongue swirling across the bite mark. “I doubt it. I don’t see a curse on you, and it would take a first-level demon or a demon lord to curse you and not leave some sign. Loki may have a grudge against you, but I doubt if a demon lord is after your blood as well.”

“That’s a relief, at least,” I said, getting to my feet and holding on to him as he did the same. He had lost a lot of blood, but he didn’t wobble at all.

Of course not. I’m a Dark One. We don’t wobble.

I laughed at the outraged tone in the words.

“What the goddess needs to do is appease Loki,” Isleif said.

“Get on his good side, you mean?” I shook my head. “He doesn’t have a good side.”

“He likes sacrifices,” Eirik said as he replaced his sword in the baldric on his back. “He always has. A good sacrifice would bring him to you.”

“What sort of a sacrifice?” I asked, thinking about the vast amounts of fast food the Vikings had once used to lure Loki into being summoned.

You can’t seriously be considering that.

I wouldn’t, but Ben, it worked before, when we were in Sweden, remember? The Vikings pillaged a McDonald’s and brought all the stuff back and sacrificed it to Loki. Who knows, the man may have a fast-food addiction! It seemed to work before, so it can’t hurt us to try it again.

“Let us think of people we would like to see sacrificed,” Isleif suggested.

All three Vikings turned to look at Ben.

“Hey!” I glared at all of them. “Stop looking at him like that!”

Ben rolled his eyes.

“She’s right,” Isleif admitted. “Dark Ones are not easily sacrificed. It would take a decapitation at best, and the goddess would not be happy with us when we were done.”

“The goddess isn’t hideously happy right now, so if I were you, I’d think of something that isn’t a living being to sacrifice. Maybe some of Isleif’s squashed sandwiches would do the trick.”

They perked up at that thought, and after asking for, and being denied, the keys to David’s rental car, they trooped off, making plans to find several packhorses so they could bring back enough sacrifices for both Loki and their own needs.

Ben and I walked slowly back to the trailer. He paused at the stairs, glancing across the common area to where Naomi’s trailer sat. “I should get my things, but I believe I’ll leave them until later.”

“Good idea.” Wearily, I unlocked the door and plodded my way up the three steps. “I know you don’t want any, but I desperately need some coffee.”

“You desperately need some sleep,” he said, scooping me up effortlessly.

“Ben! I’m not a lightweight. Put me down before you hurt your owies.”

He chuckled. It was a warm, intimate sound that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “My owies are quite healed, thank you. And even if they weren’t, I’d be capable of carrying you to a bedroom. I can feel how tired you are, Francesca. You’ve given me a lot of blood, and you need rest.”

I protested only long enough to use the bathroom before allowing him to put us both to bed. “If you’re going to want to—”

“We will not make love,” he interrupted, pulling me over to him so I was half draped across him. “I wish for you to rest.”

I slid my hand down his belly, encountering warm, hot skin that belied that statement. “You do, huh? What’s this, then?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to, I said we would not indulge ourselves. Although I would greatly enjoy bringing you pleasure as many times as you could stand, you are tired, and it’s better you rest.”

“Now I know why Dark Ones and their Beloveds are immortal. Any man who can make love three times a day has to be.”

A deep rumble of laughter formed in his chest as he kissed the top of my head, one hand caressing my back. “I admit that I was a bit enthusiastic earlier today, but I have waited for you for five years. It’s going to take me a while to work through all that anticipation.”

“You’ll hear no complaints from me,” I said, snuggling into his side. My eyes were drawn to the still faintly visible marks on his chest. I traced a claw mark. “Is this what happened to you in Sweden?”

“No. Your mother would have murdered me.”

I pinched his nipple as he laughed in my head. “Were you attacked by a therion that time in Sweden when you were almost killed?”

“Yes.” The laughter in him died, replaced by a great sadness. “The woman who attacked us was, for lack of a better word, feral. I suspect she was also under some sort of a compulsion placed on her by de Marco, although what kind I don’t know. Perhaps it has something to do with the experiments Naomi mentioned. He may have found a way to bind therions to his will.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then?” I asked, my mind on the events in the past.

“Because it was one of David’s pride who attacked me. I had to kill him, and notify David. There were many disappearances at the time, and all therions were suspicious, so I sent him word of what happened with a sign to know it was really from me.”

“Your cross,” I said, sitting up to examine the beautiful Celtic knot cross he wore.

“Yes. David recognized it, and knew the note was from me. He came to Sweden immediately afterward. We searched for two months for the person who had turned his pride member feral, but were unsuccessful.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a religious vampire,” I said.

“I’m not religious. The cross was my mother’s. It has many good memories attached to it.”

I touched the cross with one finger, allowing it to speak to me. Mostly it carried Ben’s emotions—pain, frustration, and patience—but there was also a faint image of a woman, filled with happiness and love for her son. “Your mom loved you very much. She was proud of you. She was happy you weren’t—” I stopped.

“Like my father?”

I frowned at his chest, trying to sort out the emotions. “Yes. But at the same time she loved him, too. But he didn’t love her.”

“No. My father is not a loving man.”

“Is?” I sat up and looked at him. “He’s still alive?”

Ben’s eyes opened, surprised. “Yes, of course he is. I told you that Dark Ones are hard to kill.”

“Oh. I just thought . . . accidents and such. Surely sometimes you guys are killed?”

“We are, both accidentally and intentionally. But both take some doing.”

“Good. Where is your father?”

“South America. He prefers young, nubile women and has no problem finding them there.”

I wanted to ask Ben a gazillion questions about his dad, but decided that would have to wait for another time. There was another, more pressing matter I was concerned with. “My mother. We don’t seem to be getting any closer to figuring out what’s going on with her. Who is she in love with? Why hasn’t she called me to tell me she’s so gaga about this guy? And just where the Hottentots is she?”

He pulled me tight, both arms around me. “You torment yourself needlessly. She is as strong as you are, Beloved. We will work together to uncover the truth.”

I fell asleep with that thought easing my worry, and Ben’s comforting presence surrounding me.