Viking Warrior Rebel (10 page)

Scott whistled softly when she'd finished. “Beautiful,” he said.

Holden shoved his shoulder into Scott's as he moved around him to open one of the doors to the backseat. “Get in,” he growled.

Scott's lips stretched in a lazy smile as he crawled into the car. Holden closed the door and shot Astrid a sour look. She rolled her eyes at his machismo. Seriously, she was so happy she'd been born with two X chromosomes.

Once they were on the road, she steeled herself for the interrogation bound to come from Holden. He fired the first question as they turned onto the paved highway.

“Why did the wolverine call you ‘Valkyrie'?” He kept his eyes on the road, but the deliberate stillness with which he held himself betrayed that this was anything but a casual question.

“I get that a lot.” She pretended to study the scenery out the side window. “Must be the hair and my height. I've been called Amazon too.”

“All compliments, I'm sure,” Scott said from the backseat.

Holden shot him an irritated look through the rearview mirror. “And why would the creature call your sister a queen?”

“I have no idea, but she sure bosses me around like she thinks she's royal.” Scott exaggerated a yawn and stretched his arms. “Think I'll nap for the rest of the way.” He leaned back in the seat and shut his eyes.

Holden snorted. He turned to Astrid. “We'll see each other when we get back to Pine Rapids.” His voice was low, and heat flared in his eyes before he looked back on the road again.

Her body immediately responded to that heat. “That's not a good idea.” She couldn't control herself around Holden. Plus, the man saw too much. He'd likely figure out her secrets without her even noticing she'd given them away.

“I wasn't asking.”

She sighed and welcomed the anger and indignation seeping into her body. It distracted her from the guilt she felt over lying to Holden. Why did men think they could start ordering her around once they'd slept with her? This was exactly why she kept her sex casual. Although, if she was being honest with herself—always an unpleasant sensation—there was nothing casual about sex with Holden. And he'd come through. Holden had saved her ass in a major way. She'd still have to apologize to her queen and king for losing Scott and not telling them about it, but at least she was returning with him. That should soften her punishment. “We'll see,” she finally said, instead of the harsh words that had first entered her mind.

Holden glared at her. “You owe me one honest conversation.”

She did. The problem was that she owed her battle brothers and sisters so much more, and being honest with Holden would jeopardize their safety. Besides, if he wanted a completely truthful conversation, it would have to go two ways. “Honest as in you explain how come your trunk seems to be an all-inclusive kidnapping rescue kit?”

He kept his eyes on the road. “Rex and I go paintballing. We use the headsets and the camo paint.”

Convenient, but she'd bet it wasn't anywhere close to the truth. Holden was holding himself unnaturally still again, which was obviously his tell for when something was important and he pretended it wasn't. “And you just happen to carry a Remington sniper rifle with you?”

“You're a little suspicious, aren't you?” He shot her a grin. “I bought the rifle used and wanted a complete overhaul. One of the best gunsmiths I know lives here in Denver. That was one of the reasons for my trip.”

She wasn't buying the grin or the casual tone, but there was no use badgering him. He had an answer for everything, another sign there was a lot more to his club-owner persona. Naya said the guests at the club weren't always on the right side of the law. If Holden was involved in some shady business deals, that might explain the contents of the trunk.

“And why do you need a rifle?” She smiled as if this was all a casual chat.

He shrugged, not taking his eyes off the road. “I was a sniper in the Marines. I like to keep up my skills.” They continued the rest of the drive in silence. Apparently Mr. We-Need-An-Honest-Talk wasn't all that chatty when he was the one responsible for sticking to the truth. They pulled into the hotel parking garage, and Holden surprised her by handing over some car keys. “I had your car cleaned and the window repaired while we were away.”

She twisted the keys in her hand, keeping her gaze lowered to hide how much the gesture touched her. He obviously hadn't found the hidden weapons compartment. “Thanks. We'll probably get on the road early tomorrow.” Awkward silence stretched between them.

Scott yawned loudly in the backseat and stretched his arms. “Finally here.” He opened the door and exited the car.

She got out and Holden followed. “Thanks for everything,” she said, not knowing whether she should hug him or shake his hand. What was the etiquette for saying farewell to the man who gave a girl the best orgasm ever and then helped said girl rescue her queen's brother?

Holden nodded. “Anytime.”

“You coming?” Scott shouted from halfway to the hotel door. “I don't know what room I'm going to.”

Astrid looked at Holden again, not sure what to say. His face was closed off, and she couldn't read what he was thinking or feeling. She gave him a nod of her own and followed Scott.

* * *

Later that night, or more like very early the next morning, Luke sat on his bed staring at the tablet he'd found under a loose kitchen floor tile at the farm. It had been a fluke that he'd stepped on it and felt it wiggle under his foot. At first, he thought he'd stepped on an explosives detonating device, and his heart had leaped into his throat. He'd stood there like an idiot for a few seconds before realizing that the tile was not in the direct path of an intruder, so why would they rig it? When he bent down to examine the floor, he'd found the tablet.

It was password protected, and he'd been running an encryption breaker application on it for the last hour. Blurry-eyed, he stared at the numbers blinking on the screen and ignored the stab of guilt he felt whenever he remembered that he'd outright lied to Astrid about not finding anything in the house. At least he'd given her the phones—after he copied their drives himself. Using FBI technology, he'd only needed a few seconds to upload their content to a secure server. There wasn't really a reason to feel guilty about his actions; she hadn't been all that forthcoming with the truth either. The answers she'd given him in the car had all been bullshit. Their conversation about the things he'd overheard through the communication device tonight was far from over.

She might think they wouldn't have any kind of relationship other than casual hookups, but she was wrong. There would be a lot of talking involved as well. Hopefully he'd be able to cover his tracks better than he'd done in the car. She'd surprised him with her questions about the gear and the rifle. He should have known she'd notice that the average nightclub owner did not travel with a full rescue-mission kit.

At least he hoped she wanted to hook up again. He'd had ugly thoughts about Scott replacing him in her bed ever since he'd watched them walk off together.

The screen brightened, and the encryption app beeped. Luke held his breath as the input boxes stopped scrolling, one by one displaying a five-digit code. He touched the Okay button, and the home screen displayed. There was only one icon, and when he touched it, a map of Pine Rapids popped up. Question marks circled in red marked three different locations. None of them were of anything he recognized. One was in the middle of the farmlands southeast of town, close to the Idaho border. Another was in the warehouse district near the railroad tracks, and the third was right in the middle of the forest north of town.

What the fuck did this mean? And how was it connected to Astrid?

The Norse warriors' armory had always been a place where Astrid could find peace and tranquility, but this time the repetitive motions of cleaning and polishing did nothing to soothe her agitation. She'd been restless ever since they left Denver two days ago. Her berserker paced endlessly, and her body ached as if she was running a low fever. Which was unusual, since the immortal Vikings and Valkyries didn't succumb to regular human diseases. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and slid the whetstone along the edge of her smallsword once more. A perfectly sharpened sword needed to be sharp enough to pierce flesh, but if she overdid it, the too-thin edge would dull quickly during a fight.

The door opened, and Ulf walked in. “So this is where you're hiding.” His blond crew cut's lines were as sharp as ever, and his blue eyes glittered with mischief. Although it was only April, his face was already tanned.

“I'm not hiding.” She was just avoiding certain individuals. Smart-ass Ulf included.

“The king wants to speak with you.”

And the king was definitely another person on her to-avoid list. “What does he want?” Astrid asked.

Ulf raised one eyebrow. “You really have to ask?”

She sighed. No, she didn't have to ask. The king wanted to discuss disciplinary actions for going rogue while retrieving Scott from Denver. Actually,
discuss
was not the right word.
Declare
fit better. “What time?”

“He said to give him about an hour to finish up some emails, but then you better have your ass in one of the chairs in front of his desk.”

Astrid wiped off the blade of her smallsword with a soft cloth. “How angry is he?” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth and couldn't look at Ulf. She didn't want to see the gloating in his eyes.

Instead of the flippant comment she expected, Ulf put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Hey,” he said. “Are you okay?”

Startled, she looked up. “I'm fine.” She could tell from his eye roll that he didn't believe her any more than she did herself. Ulf and she were not friends though, more like competitors. They never had heart-to-hearts where they shared their feelings. More like fist-to-fists with shared blows.

He pulled his hand back. “You can talk to me, you know.” His eyes were solemn. “I know we're not close, but you're one of my battle sisters. I worry about you.”

“Okay,” she hedged. This was weird. Did he mean he worried that she wouldn't be able to hold her own in a fight? Or, was he actually concerned about her mental and physical health? “But there is no reason to worry. I'll be fine.” Provided the king's punishment wasn't too severe. They'd never had a warrior breach protocol as badly as she had. She had no idea what to expect. She debated asking Ulf what he thought the king might do, but changed the topic instead. “Are Naya and Scott still catching up?” When Astrid and Scott arrived a few hours ago, the queen had immediately pulled her brother away for a private talk.

Ulf rolled his eyes again. “They are. And there's some crying too, mostly from Naya. They're in the game room. I had to leave the computer room because I could hear the queen sobbing through the door.” The computer room door was at the back of the large game room, which was filled with big-screen TVs and every game console imaginable. Astrid wasn't much into gaming, but the male warriors spent hours killing pixelated soldiers and mythical creatures. She thought fighting creatures in the real world was thrilling enough.

“Is the queen going to be at my meeting with the king?” Eventually she'd have to sit down with her friend and apologize for her behavior. But she wasn't ready to explain why she hadn't called the fortress for help when she couldn't find Scott. Wasn't ready to explain that it was easier to trust Holden than to admit defeat to her fellow warriors. Wasn't ready to talk about Holden at all.

“I have no idea,” Ulf answered. “You look like you could work off some energy though. Care to spar while you wait to see the king?”

His abrupt change of topic confused her at first, but exercise would help her with the restlessness she didn't seem to be able to shake. “Swords?” she asked. Ulf wasn't likely to go for her suggestion. Her former fencing master and lover, Henri, had been one of the very best. He had shown her how the smallsword was a weapon perfectly suited to her natural fighting skills. The sword was a cousin to the more famous rapier, but shorter and lighter. Henri had taught Astrid to use it during its most popular time in history, and she'd had two hundred years since then to practice her skills.

Ulf cocked his head, a slow smile stretching his lips. “Sure, but only if we pick broadswords this time.” Last time they'd fenced with smallswords, Astrid had beaten him soundly, and he'd lost a bet in the process. Apparently he'd learned his lesson.

The heavier two-edged broadsword was not one of Astrid's favorites. She'd rather fight with fists or knives, but Ulf's challenging tone of voice made it impossible to back down. “No problem,” she said and put the sharpened and polished smallsword away. Each of the warriors had their own weapons cabinet, and Astrid had three Viking broadswords in her arsenal. Even if she preferred not to use them in a real fight, she used them in training. The heavy blade built up arm and wrist muscles in no time. She retrieved her favorite broadsword from its stand.

The sword had a hilt large enough for a two-handed grip, and she swung it through the air to test its weight.

Ulf's eyes widened. “Are you serious? You want to fight with real swords?”

Astrid hid a smile and shrugged. “If you're not man enough, we can use training swords. Do you want wooden bokkens or synthetic ones?”

“Synthetic,” Ulf threw over his shoulder as he strode to the communal cabinet that held a wide variety of practice weapons. He pulled out a black sword made out of heavy polypropylene. About two-thirds of the weight of a regular sword, the weapon still simulated a good approximation of the heft of a regular sword because its center of mass was close to the handle. Although it didn't cause as much damage on contact, it still hurt. Astrid had received more than a few bruises during sparring, but at least the weapon wouldn't maim or kill.

She took the sword Ulf handed her but shook her head when he held up a padded vest. The garment would protect her but also slow her down and make quick maneuvers harder. She did pull on some gloves though. Wielded with enough speed, the practice swords could crush knuckles and fingers.

The armory connected to a large barn used as the training arena and gym. Half of the area was covered in floor mats and designed for combat sparring. The other half contained punching bags, a boxing ring, and treadmills for use when the track outside was covered in snow.

Astrid followed Ulf to the floor mats and took her position across from him. They bowed to show their respect for each other and their weapons. Astrid then held back to see what Ulf would do next. Ulf had died back in the mid-1000s and trained with the rest of Odin's warriors in Valhalla until he'd been returned to the human realm only eighty years past.

Although he'd picked up additional weapon skills and hand-to-hand combat techniques since entering the mortal realm, his swordsmanship was the same as when he'd been a marauding Viking. Basically, he had very little technique and relied mostly on brute strength. The problem with training in Valhalla was that time passed differently there. Centuries could feel like only a few weeks, and each of the Vikings and Valkyries who trained together had died in the same century, so they reinforced only the fighting skills they already knew.

Even before she died and became one of Freya's Valkyries, Astrid had relied on speed and agility to win against more massive opponents. And since her opponents were mostly male, she always had to be faster and more agile. She swung the sword in a circle, switching her grip from hand to hand. Even if the heavy blade wasn't her first choice of weapon, it still felt familiar in her hands. She was confident she could match Ulf's skills and even beat him.

Henri's training had enhanced her natural skills, no matter which blade she fought with. Thinking about Henri always made her angry, and she swung the sword with more power. She'd felt deeply for the French fencing master, and when he chose war and glory over their relationship, the betrayal had cut deep. Henri had been a soldier through and through. Maybe that was why she'd recognized the warrior nature in Holden so quickly during their rescue mission. He had the same intense focus as Henri. Would Luke also choose duty over her?

Wait, where did that thought come from? She and Luke didn't have a relationship. There would be no choices.

She forced thoughts of both Henri and Luke out of her mind. She needed to concentrate on only one male at the moment, and he was standing right in front of her.

Ulf held his sword loosely in his left hand, which was his dominant and another reason it was tricky to fight him. It was like fighting a mirror image of what she expected from an opponent.

Astrid held the hilt of her weapon in both hands by her right hip, the blade raised at a thirty degree angle. She'd placed her left hand below the right so that her dominant right could control the power of the sword while the left could twist and steer.

“You're different since you returned from Denver,” Ulf said.

She kept her gaze on his eyes, watching for the tiny flicker that would broadcast an attack. “How so?”

“Your berserker has been intense, close to the surface, for several months.” He cocked his head and sidestepped to his left. “I can still feel her, but she's not as erratic.”

Astrid moved with him and briefly checked the mental connection she had with her berserker. “My inner warrior is focused on its opponent and the upcoming fight. That always calms it.”

Ulf shook his head. “No, it's more than being battle ready. I can't quite describe it, but it's as if she is more present.”

“You're just trying to distract me. And stop calling it ‘she.'”

He slowly twirled his sword by rotating his wrist. “What gender do you think your berserker is?”

“I don't care.” She hadn't actually thought about it that much. Her inner warrior had always been an “it” to her. She knew it was technically part of her person, but it felt more like a burden. Like she had a beast inside that wanted to get out. Her own Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. She mentally shook herself. Now was not the time to philosophize about the weird dual nature of her personality. She needed to concentrate on her opponent instead.

“The only other time I've experienced the same intense presence of a berserker was when our king first met his
själsfrände
.” Ulf kept twirling his sword in slow circles, a lazy smile on his lips. “His inner warrior recognized his destined soul mate before he himself did. Is there something you're not telling me, sweet Astrid?”

His words made her skin feel cold and clammy all over. Her berserker couldn't possibly have honed in on Astrid's soul mate. It supposedly happened the first time the people destined to be together made physical contact. And she hadn't met anyone she didn't know from before. Unless Scott… No, Ulf was just trying to distract her. Besides, the berserker had first talked to her before she met Scott. She had been with Holden—she cut off that train of thought quickly and shook off her unease. “Stop yapping and concentrate on the fight.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Sounds like you don't want to face the truth, but if you say so.” Ulf leaned forward, holding his sword in front of his torso with a slightly bent elbow.

Astrid watched his eyes carefully and caught the exact moment their focus became more intense. Ulf lunged, thrusting his sword at her torso. She easily parried right, blocking his blade, and then counterattacked with a downward thrust.

He sidestepped but wasn't quick enough, and the point of her blade hit his right hip. “Fuck,” he hissed as he took a step back.

Astrid smiled as they circled each other again. Ulf would have a nice bruise where she'd made contact by tomorrow morning. She planned on giving him a few more.

He lunged again with a center thrust, but then feinted at the last minute and turned it into a cross. She swept her sword up to parry center and protect her stomach, but his strike had too much force. Although she slowed it down, the flat side of his heavy rubber blade hit her, and a thud of pain reverberated through her body. She hissed in a breath but kept her brain from acknowledging the hurt. She'd been hurt much worse in combat, and the adrenaline rushing through her body made it easier to ignore the pain.

Ulf attacked again, this time with a thrust toward her heart. She parried again but moved her sword outward, forcing his blade to slide down the length of hers instead of making contact with her body.

His momentum carried him forward while she sidestepped, quickly turned, and immediately counterattacked. Ulf had managed almost to twist around so he was facing her again, but he was slightly off balance. She used that to her advantage and executed a cross to his neck.

He threw his body back, and although she made contact, her sword hit his collarbone instead. Ulf stumbled and she attacked again. This time, she used a basic lunge to his center of gravity, and when he parried center, she twisted her hands so she could trap his blade. The two hilts tangled, and with a flick of her wrist, his sword flew off to the side.

Ulf swore under his breath but quickly stepped backward and widened his stance. Balanced on the balls of his feet, his arms hanging loosely by his sides, he was ready to fight her with only his fists as weapons.

“Want me to lose my sword?” she asked.

He smiled slightly, intently watching her eyes. “Wouldn't want you to give up your only advantage. After all, you're just a woman.”

As always, he knew exactly how to push her buttons. Anger quickly welled up inside her, and her first instinct was to immediately throw her blade to the side.