Viking Warrior Rebel (3 page)

All Luke could do was watch her delectable backside as she walked away from him, gracefully navigating her way between the tables. She'd won a small victory, but the battle was far from over.

He returned to his own table and sat down. If Astrid thought this brief interlude would cause him to back off, she was in for a surprise.

Broden pushed a small black folder toward Luke. “Since you asked me out, it's only fair that you pay.”

Luke placed his credit card in the holder without looking at the check.

“I take it the lady did not care for your company tonight?” Broden's words dripped with sarcasm.

“She had other plans,” Luke said. “We need to hustle back to the hotel so we can search her room before she returns. I want to put a tracker on her car too.” The ones he'd placed on her car in Pine Rapids kept disappearing. She must have discovered and removed them.

“Does that mean I don't get dessert?”

Luke gave Broden a hard stare meant to shut him up, but the man had no sense of self-preservation. “Some date you turned out to be,” Broden whined. “You leave me alone for most of the night and then won't buy me dessert. No wonder the lady doesn't want you. Do I at least get a good-night kiss when you drop me off at my house?”

Luke closed his eyes. “Shut the fuck up.”

“That bad, huh.” Broden's voice was now laced with genuine laughter. “This girl really has you in knots. Remind me to buy some popcorn. This is going to be fun to watch.”

Luke decided it was safer to remain quiet. If he didn't, he may punctuate his next statement with a fist to Broden's jaw.

* * *

Half an hour later, Luke was looking around Astrid's hotel room. It was a mirror image of his own. Same thick, beige carpet offset by gold-and-rust draperies that also contrasted nicely with the white walls. The drapes matched the bedspread, although his bed wasn't rumpled and smelling deliciously of that same combination of a flowery fragrance and Astrid's unique scent that he'd inhaled earlier at the restaurant. He dragged his mind away from the erotic images the unmade bed and Astrid's naked body inspired. She could be heading back to the hotel soon, so he had to hustle if he wanted to do a complete search. Broden had installed a tracker on her car and then headed home. This one was extra hidden.

There wasn't much of Astrid's stuff to look through. A pair of jeans lay perfectly folded on a chair, a leather jacket draped across its back. In one of the dresser drawers, he found a supply of clean underwear in bold satin colors, some clean T-shirts, and a colorful silk scarf. The other drawers were empty. The lady traveled light, but even this small bundle of clothes needed a bag. She hadn't had one with her at the restaurant, not even a purse, so what had she packed in? He searched the room again, but couldn't find any luggage anywhere, not even under the bed.

Returning to the dresser, he pawed through her silky bras and panties and tried not to feel like a pervert when the smooth silk running through his fingers evoked yet another hot memory of his one night with Astrid. She'd worn a hot-pink bra and a matching minuscule thong that had burned images permanently into his mind. He swallowed and adjusted his pants when the crotch started to feel uncomfortably tight.

Between the T-shirts, he felt a hard lump and pulled out a Leatherman multitool. Unfolded, the mini pliers fit comfortably in his hand. He studied its many Swiss Army–like accessories one by one and noticed small specks of white paint on one of the flat screwdriver heads.

The hotel room had several vent covers, but they were fairly small and fastened with Phillips-head screws. Luke went into the bathroom and studied the large vent covering the extractor fan. All six screws were of the flat-head kind. He dragged in a chair, quickly removed the cover, and then pulled out a duffel bag hidden inside the ceiling space.

Astrid did travel with luggage—filled with a sword, several daggers, and two Glock 22s. He copied down the guns' serial numbers and replaced the bag and the multitool where he'd found them. Figuring out what Astrid was doing in Denver moved to the top of his to-do list. What kind of business trip required a small personal armory?

Astrid paced the office of Dr. Rosen, Scott's personal physician. She briefly paused by the huge picture window and admired the majestic view of the Rocky Mountains. The exclusive clinic was only two hours' drive from Denver but well hidden to protect its famous and well-connected clientele from paparazzi and the media. The only way to reach it was on back roads or by helicopter. She checked her watch. She'd been waiting for fifteen minutes already and really wanted to get back on the road and head for Washington.

The more miles she put between herself and Luke Holden, the better. Her traitorous body had imagined all kinds of delightful activities when he'd suggested they spend the night together. She'd had to give her hormones a stern talking-to, and even then they didn't settle down. Knowing he was spending the night somewhere in the same hotel had made rest hard. She stifled a yawn. Luke was trouble. He saw too much.

The door opened behind her and she turned to watch Dr. Rosen enter, wearing a white lab coat with
Rosen MD
embroidered on the breast pocket. He pushed his rimless glasses higher on his nose and approached her with a cheerful smile. “I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting.” He gestured to one of the chairs facing the desk in front of the window, and Astrid sat down while the doctor situated himself in his office chair. “I understand you're here to pick up Scott Driscoll?”

Astrid nodded. Naya had kept her brother's first name on the patient records, but the last name was fake.

Dr. Rosen picked up a folder from his desk and flipped through it. “You must have gotten your signals crossed somehow.” He peered at her through his glasses. “Scott checked himself out yesterday.”

“I'm sorry, what?” Astrid leaned forward in the chair. She'd been told Scott was better, but not yet completely recovered. The doctor looked down at his folder again. “He left our clinic yesterday.”

“How's that possible?” This must be some kind of joke. She must have misheard.

Dr. Rosen smiled. “Thanks to the formula his sister sent us, Scott made an excellent recovery. He's not yet at one hundred percent, but with proper physical therapy—”

Astrid stood. “That's not what I meant. Why did you let him leave? You knew someone was coming to pick him up.” This couldn't be happening. Her heart pounded faster, and the berserker paced impatiently inside her, testing the mental barriers Astrid had put in place to cage it. She had to calm down, or this would end in disaster.

“We don't keep our patients against their will.” Dr. Rosen frowned. “Scott wanted to leave, so we processed his release.”

Astrid forced air into her lungs in deep, slow breaths. “And he just walked out the gate?” She sat down again. “Did someone pick him up?”

Dr. Rosen consulted his notes again. “He called a car service.”

“Are you sure you're not mixing him up with a different patient?” She squeezed her eyes shut while she waited for the doctor's answer. When none came, she opened them again and found Dr. Rosen watching her with sympathy in his eyes.

“Scott is one of my personal favorites. Watching him walk out this door of his own accord was a moment of triumph.” He offered a self-deprecating smile.

Astrid slowly shook her head. She was so screwed. “Did he at least leave a message?”

The doctor handed over a yellow sticky note.

Tell Neyney I'll be in touch.

Astrid stared at the words. Neyney was Scott's nickname for Naya. The sound of her own heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears. She wanted to hit something. Hard.

She was so screwed. All she had to do was pick up the queen's brother, and she couldn't even do that right. So much for the
skydd
ceremony. Obviously the gods had not listened to the pledge of granting her a successful mission. Odin and Freya had placed a curse on her instead. She turned to Dr. Rosen. “What car service did he use?”

The doctor made a grimace of regret and shook his head. “I'm sorry, but I don't know. Not to mention that if I did, I still couldn't tell you. We have very strict doctor-patient confidentiality rules that I can't violate.” He stood. “I'm sure Scott will be in touch soon.”

Yep, definitely cursed.

* * *

Hours later, after many phone calls to car services, Astrid had finally found some useful information. A rather dim clerk had told her they'd had a fare from somewhere “way up in the mountains” to the train station. He'd even given her the driver's cell phone number, and the passenger's description fit Scott. Although “tall and dark, not very talkative” could technically be anyone, she held on to the slim hope that Scott had hired the driver's town car.

The historical Denver Union Station was an impressive light-gray building with an ornate facade and huge arched windows. Astrid stepped inside and admired the tall ceilings created to offset those same windows. The muted light of dusk filtered through their glass, helped by old-fashioned chandeliers illuminating the polished floors with a warm, golden glow. She found the information counter and studied the route map. The station was on the California Zephyr line, which meant Scott could be on his way to any city between Chicago and San Francisco. Mother of Valkyries, why could things never be easy?

A dull headache started to throb between Astrid's temples. She checked the schedule and cheered up a little. The westbound train departed at eight a.m. Unless Scott had spent the night in Denver, he wouldn't have been able to board that route. Most likely, he'd headed east and was now somewhere between here and Chicago. In order to track him down, should she dump the car and board a train, or drive to each city on the route?

Astrid's phone vibrated. She fished it out of her pocket to find a message from Naya.
You guys okay? How far did you make it today?

The headache intensified. She needed to buy some time without outright lying to her queen.
It's going to take longer than planned to get back
, she replied.

No worries. Just stay safe
, Naya wrote.

Astrid slipped the phone back into her jacket and wondered if she should just pretend to have lost the device. But worrying Naya by not replying to messages would be worse than not telling the truth. She couldn't do that to her friend. As soon as she caught up with Scott, she needed to haul ass back to Washington. That meant looking for him by car. She headed back to the parking garage.

Dusk had progressed to night by the time she stepped off the elevator on the floor where she'd parked the silver Escalade. A low vibration from the fluorescent lights accompanied the echo her boots made against the concrete floor. Astrid had almost reached the car when two sets of approaching footsteps made her pause. She reached for the throwing dagger she kept in an inside jacket pocket and continued walking but stayed on the balls of her feet to keep her steps silent. Her berserker stirred, alerting her to the fact that her pursuers were not human.

A shadow appeared from around a corner and separated into two distinct shapes. Astrid stopped and cursed under her breath. It didn't look like she'd be able to avoid a fight.

What looked like two human men stepped into the light. Even dormant, Astrid's berserker picked up on the glow of Asgard—the gods' realm—radiating from the creatures. These were Loki's wolverine monsters, hence the otherworldly essence surrounding them. All dressed in black, their faces were narrow with pointed chins. Humans would think they were regular mortals as long as they didn't notice the black voids they had for eyes. As she waited for them to make their move, their nails elongated into claws. The creatures stared at her, arms held loosely at their side, fighting-stance ready.

She gripped her dagger tight and widened her own stance automatically. It would be so much easier if she could just use a gun, but the noise would bring law enforcement, and she couldn't risk getting delayed by answering questions. She had to find Scott. And if she missed, anyone who showed up to investigate the gun shot could get killed by the wolverines.

Her berserker became agitated and growled, now battle ready, but she clamped down on her mental control and willed it to remain dormant. She was in enough trouble already without going into full battle rage. Without her warrior brothers here, she might never be able to recover if she gave her berserker full control.

“Greetings, Valkyrie,” one of the creatures snarled. “We've been waiting for you or one of your brothers to show up.” He grimaced in what was probably supposed to be a smile. “We'd actually hoped for the queen.”

Astrid rolled her shoulders. “Well, doesn't this little welcome committee make me feel all tingly and special.”

Apparently, they weren't expecting a smart-ass comment because the smirks disappeared from their faces. “We know you're here all alone,” the other wolverine hissed. He took a step forward.

“I don't need any help to send you back to where you belong.” Adrenaline surged through Astrid's body, and the berserker pawed at its mental constraints, eager to come out to fight. It was a struggle to remain in control, but she managed to force her inner warrior instinct back down.

The creature who had spoken first rushed her, and she quickly slung her throwing dagger, but he'd anticipated the movement and lunged to the side. The knife clanked down on the floor. Astrid quickly ducked and crouched as the creature lunged through the air and swept out his leg. She blocked the kick with her arm, but his heel made contact with her elbow. The hit vibrated through her humerus bone and up her shoulder, making her teeth rattle.
Mother of Valkyries, that hurt.

She quickly pivoted to keep track of her other opponent and then took a step back so she wasn't right between them. Instead, they formed a slowly rotating triangle as they circled each other. “Is that all you got?” Astrid taunted, putting a fake smile on her face.

The only answer she got was a low growl. She couldn't tell from which creature it came. Maybe both of them. She crouched slowly, keeping them both in her field of vision as she retrieved another dagger from her boot. Whichever of them attacked next would be the recipient of her fine blade, and this time she wouldn't miss.

“We could do a lot more damage,” the one to the left smirked, “but we want you alive to deliver a message.”

Astrid frowned. “What message?”

Lefty grimaced that hideous smile again. “Tell your queen we have her brother.”

Blood pulsed loudly in her ears, and she wavered as she struggled not to let her berserker out. “That's a big, fat lie,” she managed to squeeze out. “Scott is with the queen and king.”

“We both know that's not true.” The wolverine on the right sounded mighty pleased with himself. “We've wondered why the queen visited Denver several times. We've kept a presence in the city just in case she showed up again. Imagine our surprise when her brother appears instead, all juicy and ripe for the picking. In the train station of all places.”

“What do you want?” Astrid scowled.

“We need both siblings. If the queen gives herself up, we'll let both of them live.”

This mission was turning shittier and shittier by the minute. She was definitely cursed. “The king will kill you before he allows the queen anywhere near you.”

Lefty shrugged. “Then keep the king out of this.”

“Good idea,” Astrid said, throwing her dagger overhand. “I'll just kill you myself.” The knife buried itself just above Lefty's collarbone. She'd gone for the neck, but as if the day wasn't crappy enough, she was now off her aim too. At least she'd hurt the bastard, because he squealed loudly.

The one on her right rushed forward, and she quickly retrieved the knife in her other boot before releasing it in an underhand sideways throw. A wet choking noise told her she'd hit her mark. She barely had time to turn and see the wolverine sink to the ground with her dagger sticking out of his jugular before the one on the left attacked again.

He'd pulled out her knife and came at her with a circular back kick. She blocked with her left arm and countered with an uppercut but only glanced his chin. He flipped backward and landed gracefully, still holding her knife. It was a good thing none of the other warriors were watching. She'd be the laughingstock of the fortress if anyone found out how long it had taken her to down these pests, and she'd never live down the fact that one of them had armed itself with her personal weapon.

Astrid feinted left and ducked down, extending her leg in a sweeping kick when the wolverine stabbed the air where she'd just been. He lost his footing, but twisted midair and somehow landed on his feet again. She'd fought wolverines before, but this guy was different. When did the wolverines become acrobats?

The creature rushed her and she had to retreat a step, wobbling when her foot slipped on some loose rocks on the floor. The wolverine swept the knife down, and Astrid had to block with her left forearm. The knife cut through her muscle. She hissed as white pain radiated through her entire arm. Clenching her teeth, she grabbed the wolverine's wrist before he could pull out the knife and stab her again. Their struggle forced the blade deeper into her flesh, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming out in agony.

“You're making it very hard to keep you alive,” the wolverine hissed.

She kicked his shin, and when he flinched, she wrenched her arm away, dislodging the knife but keeping her grip on his wrist. Her blood dripped down the blade, coating his skin and making Astrid's grip slippery. She leaned forward, trying to throw him off balance, but the creature matched her body strength and held his own.

Burning pain radiated from her wound, and she had trouble concentrating on keeping his hand and knife away from her. The berserker paced again, howling, wanting to be released, but she couldn't risk it.