Confessions of a Vampire's Girlfriend (27 page)

I was about to ask that last question myself. The Viking who had checked out the valknut was back in front of me, raising his sword in the air as he led a chant.
“Holle was the goddess of the dead,” Tibolt said, getting to his feet. His shoulders sagged, like he was tired, and for the first time since I'd met him, he didn't seem to hold the same attraction for me. I wondered if his glamour, or whatever it was he'd been using, had worn off, or if the pendant had something to do with it. “She is the daughter of Loki. The valknut, combined with the power invoked by the
blot
, is what raised them. What has happened here is unfortunate—I had hoped to avoid this outcome, since he is near. But what's done is done.”
“Um . . . where are you going?” I asked as he gathered up a small leather bag and started to walk away. The other
blot
ters did likewise, although they also shot confused little looks between Tibolt and the Vikings. “Are you going to get something to put these ghosts back?”
“No,” he answered without even turning his head. “I do not have the means to do that.”
“Who does?” Ben called out after him. Imogen moved over to stand next to us, eyeing the Vikings as if they were aliens.
“The master,” Tibolt said; then he and the
blot
ters disappeared into the woods, leaving the three of us surrounded by Viking ghosts.
“Master? What master?” Imogen asked, frowning slightly.
“Anyone who calls himself the master can't be good,” Ben said, eyeing the ghosts. “But that's a moot point since he's not here, and we are. I suppose we should leave as well.”
“And do what?” I asked, waving my hand toward them. “Just leave them here yelling and stuff? Ben, they're ghosts! The dig crew is going to get here in the morning and find ghosts wandering around their site. You think no one is going to notice that?”
He sighed, his mind a soft touch against mine.
It is none of our concern.
Yes, it is. I'm evidently the one who brought them back.
“It was not intentional,” he argued, pulling me after him as he started to leave the dig site.
“That doesn't matter. I still—”
“You are leaving, Holle?” a voice asked from behind us. We spun around, staring at the big Viking who had been next to me. “We just arrived. Why are you leaving us?”
“You speak English?” I asked, stunned, my feet coming to a halt.
“Of course. We have not much else to do over the centuries but watch the visitors and learn their languages.” The Viking frowned. “I am Eirik Redblood. These are my men, my family, my brothers. Who do you wish for us to slaughter?”
“Slaughter?” I asked, the word coming out like a squeak. “No one!”
“Begone, spirit,” Ben said, waving his hand toward Eirik. “We have no need of you in this place.”
The Vikings all burst into laughter, a couple of them doubling over and wiping their eyes. Ben's eyebrows pulled together in a puzzled frown as he watched them. He lifted his hand toward them again, making the same waving gesture. “I command you to leave now.”
That made the Vikings laugh even harder.
“Uh-oh,” I said, peeking at Ben from the corner of my eye. He didn't look happy.
Was that little hand thingie supposed to do something?
Yes.
Oops.
Eirik stalked over toward us, lifting his sword so the tip was almost touching Ben's throat. “You have no powers over us, Dark One. Not here, in the land that is soaked with our blood.”
“OK. Time for us to leave, I think,” I said, stepping backward carefully, tugging at the back of Ben's jacket. He didn't move, of course. “Um, Ben? Let's go.”
“I will stay here until you and Imogen are safely away,” he answered in his macho guy voice. I almost rolled my eyes, but didn't because there is a time and place for eye rolling, and doing it while a big, bad Viking ghost holds a sword to your boyfriend's neck isn't one of them.
Eirik's blue eyes eyes narrowed as he looked at me. “You know this Dark One, Holle?”
“My name isn't Holly, it's Fran, and yes, I know him. He's . . . er . . . he's my . . .”
His eyes narrowed further. “Does he hold you prisoner?”
“Stay back, Fran,” Ben said, moving slightly to the side to block Eirik's view of me.
“No,” I said on a sigh, answering both Ben and Eirik's question with one word as I let go of Ben's jacket and stood beside him. “No, he doesn't hold me prisoner, and no, I'm not going to stay back. Ben is my boyfriend, OK? Now please move your sword. It's making me really nervous.”
To my surprise, Eirik did as I asked. “By your will, Holle. Who would you have us destroy, if not this Dark One? The female?”
Imogen, who had been watching everything, silently, gasped, her eyes flashing at him. “I would like to see you try!”
“Why do you keep asking me who I want destroyed?” I asked. “And why do you insist on calling me Holle? I'm not the goddess of death, or whoever Tibolt said she was. My name is Fran, I work for the GothFaire, and Ben and Imogen are my friends.”
“You raised us, so we are yours to command, O mighty goddess Fran,” Eirik said, dropping to one knee. “We are bound to you until you call the Valkyries to take us to Valhalla.”
“Just when I thought my life couldn't get any weirder,” I muttered.
“Other than the rude one who offered to kill me, I think they're rather charming,” Imogen said, smiling at a half-naked Viking ghost. To my surprise, he smiled back at her.
Any ideas on what I should do to get rid of them?
I asked Ben.
None, I'm afraid,
he answered with a puzzled look on his face.
Ghosts are out of my range of experience. Most likely the best thing to do is ask them.
“How does Fran release you?” he asked Eirik.
Eirik's nostrils flared as he looked Ben over from head to toe. Ben wasn't as big and bulky as Eirik, but he wasn't a skinny little nothing, either. Beside me, all his muscles tensed like he was going to fling himself forward.
“You are mated to the goddess?” the Viking asked.
“Yes,” Ben said without even a second's delay.
“Whoa! We are not mated!” I said, giving him a glare. “All I've done is kiss you!”
Eirik's eyes lit up as he took a step forward. “You are not mated to the Dark One? Good. I have always desired to rut with a goddess.”
“Rut?” I asked, holding my ground even though Eirik took another step toward me, because I didn't let anyone intimidate me. Ben's arm tightened around my waist.
“Swive,” Eirik said, with a smile that made it pretty darn clear just what he was talking about.
“Oh,
that
mated! Silly me! Yes, yes, we are. Ben and I, that is. We're
so
mated, like every night. Sometimes four or five times a night,” I said, figuring more was better where that sort of thing was concerned. Ben I knew I could trust—with Eirik I wasn't really so sure.
“I'm not mated to anyone,” Imogen said, smiling again at the Viking behind Eirik.
“Imogen!” Ben growled. “Behave yourself. They are ghosts.”
“Yes, but such cute ones. Are you corporeal?” She walked forward and put her hand out toward the hottie Viking's chest. To my surprise, her hand didn't go whipping through him. Instead it stopped and rested on his bare chest. Imogen gave a little squeal of delight. “You are! How exciting!”
Ben swore under his breath. I pinched his hand to remind him that Imogen was not going to be happy if he made a fuss about whom she dated. “You didn't answer my question, Viking. How does Fran release you?”
Eirik looked at me. “I will answer him because he is mated to you, but if you change your mind about him at any time, I will be happy to—”
“Thanks,” I said quickly, figuring we were all going to be happier if he didn't finish that sentence. “About the releasing thing?”
He shrugged. “You are a goddess—you must know best how to do that.”
“But I'm not a goddess,” I protested.
“You bear the
Vikingahärta
, and you called us to rise. Only a goddess could do such a thing,” he insisted.
Great. Now what do I do? I'm so not a goddess.
“You don't know how she can release you?” Ben asked as I gave a mental groan.
“No,” Eirik answered, looking slightly bored. “We are warriors, Vikings, children of the gods—not the gods themselves. Such things are no concern of ours.”
Clearly the answer lies in the pendant,
Ben said.
The blond man said earlier that it was responsible for raising the ghosts—perhaps if we knew more about it, we could discover how to use it to release the ghosts.
Good idea. I'll ask Tibolt.
“What
are
your concerns?” Imogen asked, her voice silky as she stroked the Viking's chest.
“War!” Eirik shouted.
“Pillage!” another one answered.
“Women,” the ghost Imogen was touching said in a near purr. They smiled again at each other.
“Oh, for Christ's sake
—
” Ben muttered to himself.
Would you like me to touch your chest like that?
I asked him, watching Imogen as she murmured in the Viking's ear. He laughed and leaned down to whisper in her ear as well.
Ben's eyes, normally a delicious brown with gold and black flecks in them, went the color of honey oak.
Sweetheart, that would lead to us really being mated, which would mean we were Joined. And I don't think you're ready for that yet.
Gotcha. No chest touchies.
A little sigh of unhappiness swept through him, but he cut it off before I could say anything. “Let's go find this Tibolt.”
“OK,” I said, turning toward the camp, but Ben didn't follow me like I expected. Instead he and Eirik were toe-to-toe. “What now?”
“He was going with you,” Ben growled, doing the macho bit I was starting to think he really loved. I sighed to myself. That was one of the things we had yet to work out, but I figured right then was not the time to do it.
“You guys don't want to stay here?” I asked Eirik, waving my hand to indicate the dig site. “You said this was your home, right?”
“Until you summoned us. Now we follow you,” Eirik answered, and sure enough, they all got in line behind him, Imogen's Viking giving her a steamy look as he did so.
“You are not going to annoy Fran in any way,” Ben said stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.
I walked back to him and put a hand on his arm, giving his biceps a little squeeze (which, I had to admit, made me do a little inner girly squeal, but he didn't need to know that). “Remember rule number one—Fran can take care of herself. Good. So you can stop being all manly and stuff and let
me
worry about me.”
Ben shot me an outraged look that pretty much told me what he thought of rule number one.
“Hey, Imogen and I beat up a demon last month all by ourselves!” I stopped squeezing and whapped him on the arm. “We stopped him from killing you, too!”
“I had the situation fully in my control,” he answered, his voice low like he was growling. For some reason, that just made me want to kiss him. “If you and Imogen hadn't interefered—”
“Oh, for heaven's sake, little brother,” Imogen said as she strolled over to us. “This is 2006, not 1806. Fran and I are quite capable of taking care of not only ourselves, but you, as well.”
“I don't need anyone to take care of me,” Ben sputtered, his eyes going black as he glared at his sister.
Imogen smiled at him and kissed his cheek. He growled some more. “So typical of Moravian men. I've done my best with him, Fran, but clearly you have a lot of work ahead of you. I believe I shall drive over to the mainland and see what's happening at the local nightclub.” She cast a glance over her shoulder at her friendly Viking. “If anyone would care to join me, I'd be happy to have the company.”
Ben opened his mouth like he was going to forbid her, but I dug my nails into his wrist, so he just glared at me instead.
Imogen's Viking looked first at Eirik, then at me. I realized with a bit of surprise that he was waiting for permission. “Sure,” I said, waving at Imogen. “Knock yourself out. All of you. I . . . er . . . hereby do solemnly give you permission to do whatever you want to do without asking me first. Unless it's, like, something bad—then don't do it. OK?”
The Vikings scattered like pool balls, a couple of them going off with Imogen to the nearest town on the mainland, a couple heading for the main tent, the rest off to wander around the fairgrounds. Only Eirik remained standing with Ben and me.
“Don't you want to go to town with Imogen and the others?” I asked, kind of surprised that he'd want to stay behind.
“No. My duty is to stay near my goddess in case she has need of me,” he said, falling into place on my left side as Ben walked on my right. We were headed toward the lights and noise of the Faire, which still had a few hours to go.
“I will take care of any needs Fran has,” Ben said stiffly.
We are so going to have a little talk later,
I told him.
Yes. Yes, we are. It's about time we have a few things out.
I sent him a mental frown, and decided he needed to be ignored for a minute or two. “So, you guys all died together here?” I asked Eirik. “Was, it . . . um . . . bad? Dying?”
“We fought and died with much honor,” he said proudly. “There were twelve of us to the Norwegians' ten score. We sent three times our number to Valhalla before they finished us.”

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