Embrace of the Damned (28 page)

“I think being long-lived gives a man a taste for only the finer things.” He held her gaze steadily so she would know he wasn’t talking about dessert.

She averted her gaze and took a dollop of the mousse onto her tongue. Groaning as it hit her taste buds, she closed her eyes. “That’s like sin made real.”

That look of sensual ecstasy on her face made him want to give her more.

Using her spoon to point at the cup, she said, “This is the best chocolate mousse I’ve ever tasted.” She took another bite.

“I told you I could cook.”

“I believe you.” She paused and set her spoon onto the table. “You surprised me and now I have a surprise for you.” She stood, a mischievous look on her face. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

He followed her through the house to one of the rooms at the back of the keep that he didn’t use very much. A couch sat in the middle of the room, facing a high white wall. The smell of hot buttered popcorn filled the air.

Jessa turned toward him with a smile on her face. “I’m not allowed to leave the grounds. If I were, I would have taken you to a real movie theater. Things being what they are, Erik helped me do the next best thing.”

His gaze went to the projector at the back of room. “We’re watching a movie, with popcorn,” he observed with a little shock.

“Yes. Maybe one day we’ll be able to do it in an actual theater.”

The thought of going to a movie with Jessa, of actually being out in public, having fun, was heady. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had fun. The thought of going on a date with Jessa, no threat surrounding them, their focus on each other, made his heart pound and his hands sweat.

He cleared his throat. “What’s the movie?”

“
Outlander
.” She beamed at him. “Vikings and aliens all mixed together in a big … Viking and alien stew!” She beamed. “There’s nothing not to love.”

Broder was doubtful, but her enthusiasm was adorable.

She pointed at him. “You just grinned again!”

“I did?”

“Yes.” She slid her hand into his. “This is the best night ever. Come on, let’s get popcorn.”

The movie they watched didn’t matter; just spending the evening with Jessa was enough. When the end credits ran, she drowsed with her head resting on his upper arm, tired out easily from her lingering injuries, the empty popcorn bucket at their feet.

He turned off the projector and scooped her into his arms.

“Hey,” she protested, winding her arms around his neck, “I can walk, you know.”

“I know.” He carried her through the darkened house to her room and laid her onto the mattress.

She adjusted herself and lay back into the pillows. “I feel like an invalid,” she muttered.

He leaned over her, with an arm on either side of her. “It was an excuse to hold you.”

Jessa went very still, staring into his eyes from an inch away. There was a ring of gold around her dark brown pupils. “Okay.” Her voice came out a little breathless.

“Thank you for tonight.”

“It was my pleasure.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. He wanted more, so much more. Clenching his fist, he contented himself with slipping his tongue into her mouth and easing it up against hers. Her body tightened and her breathing quickened. If he pressed her back into the pillows and demanded more, she would probably give it to him.

Instead he eased back. “Rest now,” he murmured, his voice rough from his lust.

“Broder, what does a witch taste like?” she murmured sleepily.

He held her gaze for a long moment before answering. “Most witches taste like peppermint and roses, but you taste like the future I want.”

Her drowsy eyes opened wider and she started to say something, but he turned and strode from the room before she had a chance.

“Bring your elbow back, pivot, and punch straight out. It’s like a dance.”

Jessa turned on the ball of one foot, pulling her elbow back and then punching as Broder had instructed. The tip of the wooden training dagger she held thumped him in the chest, but it was like hitting a heavy sandbag; Broder didn’t even feel it.
She
was feeling it … in every muscle she possessed. The last week had been a flurry of training, every day from morning until night.

Occasionally Erik stepped in to demand a break for her. She was thankful for his intervention since Broder was such a slave driver. It was as if Broder felt like he was fighting for her life through her training. In actuality, he probably was. And she was fighting for her life by learning how to defend herself. It was for this reason she never complained or asked for a break, no matter that she was still recovering from her ordeal with the demon and became tired more easily than usual.

Broder had given her his dagger, which was why she now trained with a wooden one. She’d protested, knowing that Loki would disapprove and she didn’t want Broder to get into trouble, but she couldn’t dissuade him of the gift no matter how hard she tried. She kept it sheathed and with her at all times, sometimes wearing it at the small of her back just as Broder did.

Since the attack, Broder had been as hands-off with her as he possibly could be. She’d noticed his reluctance to touch her and was trying very hard not to take it personally. Before the demon attack, he’d pushed her hard in this regard, trying his best to tempt her into bed with him, so the change was odd.

Maybe he’d been turned off by her near-death experience. It certainly wasn’t because he feared her fragility. After all, he wouldn’t be forcing the training issue so hard if that were the case.

Recently they’d begun training with swords as well. Since one effective way for a human—or seidhr or Valkyrie—to kill a demon was to lop off its head, it made sense that this was a common weapon for the non-Brotherhood to use. She was growing proficient with it, though a Loki dagger was the best weapon. The dagger required no special aim; it was just poke and explode. Pretty simple, really. The only downside was how close you had to get to the target.
No one
wanted to be that close to a demon.

Jessa executed a perfect roundhouse kick for Broder, just the way Halla had taught her. He took a step back and looked impressed.

“Okay,” he said, beginning to circle her in a crouched position that made her think of a wolf circling its prey. “It’s time.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Time for what?”

“Time for you to show me what you’ve got.”

“What do you mean?”

He motioned to her with his fingers curling toward him. “I mean, attack me. Let loose. Try to hurt me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. You
can’t
. So don’t worry about it. Don’t think about who I am, just try and hurt me.” He jerked his chin at the blunt training sword resting against the wall. “Take my head off, Jessa.”

She looked from him to the sword, remembered he was a member of the Brotherhood of the Damned and was as close to indestructible as one could get, and went for the training sword on the wall. The moment her hand touched the smooth, cool metal of the handle, Broder was behind her, lunging. She whirled around, bringing the sword up and impacting his torso with a solid thump.

Broder grunted and backed off, favoring his rib cage. She’d hit him hard, but, hell, he’d invited her to do it.

A moment later and he was stalking her again. Her heart rate ratcheted skyward at the look on his face. He was definitely in the zone, provoking her to attack him out of fear. If this was the way he looked to the Blight, she wasn’t sure why they didn’t just curl up and die right on the spot.

With a nearly animalistic snarl, he lunged for her. She kicked him in the chest, pushing him back with the flat of her boot, grunting and using every ounce of her muscle to do it. It hardly deterred him. He was on her again, gripping her from behind. Real panic filled her. Even though it was Broder mock-attacking her, it still made all her survival instincts flare to life.

From a place of pure impulse, she punched backward with her elbow, hitting his solar plexus. His grip loosened and she pivoted, sword swinging wide in one hand, bringing the heel of her other hand up toward his nose—and pulling
back only at the very last second. She followed the move by bringing the sword around and thumping him soundly in the throat.

Broder stepped back and opened his arms. He smiled widely and purely for the first time since she’d met him. This wasn’t a grin, not a smirk—it was a full-on, dazzling smile. His dimples popped and she nearly dropped her sword in surprise. “You just killed me. Good job.” He was bleeding from the corner of his mouth and one nostril, and she’d ripped his shirt … but he was still smiling.

Apparently the only way to make Broder happy was to inflict bodily harm upon him.

She tried to calm her exerted breathing while looking pointedly away from the rip in his T-shirt that revealed a swath of nicely rippled, muscled chest. “Thanks … I guess.”

He walked away from her, pulling his T-shirt over his head and using it to wipe his face. Oh, that
so
didn’t help. Now there was an even wider swath of muscular chest for her to attempt to not look at.

Swallowing hard, she walked over to replace the sword only to find herself hefted in strong arms. She squealed and thrashed, all the memories of her recent attack rushing to the forefront of her mind and igniting a rush of panic. She knew it was Broder who’d grabbed her, but, again, she couldn’t help the brutal survival response that ensued. She fought back with everything she had.

Her heel connected with Broder’s shin hard enough to break a human man’s bone. He released her, but she wasn’t done yet. She dropped to the floor and rotated, kicking up high and catching him in the cheek, making his head whip to the side. While his face was turned away, she jumped on him, landing a punch to the kidneys that made him grunt.

He collapsed and she went with him, punching him again and again. It was the demon all over again, except this time she was winning. It felt good.

Broder rolled over and pinned her down, telling her to calm down.

She relaxed, going limp, and a rush of regret filled her
immediately. She’d cut his cheek in her panicked frenzy and probably inflicted many other injuries. “I’m sorry, Broder.”

“Don’t be sorry. That’s exactly what I wanted to see from you. I surprised you on purpose and you reacted well.”

They stared at each other in silence for a long moment in which she became acutely aware of his naked upper torso and how close it was to her.

“You and Halla have taught me well.” She tried to make her voice come out steady, but it was hard with him so close to her. “Thank you.”

“It probably had a little to do with your attack, too. You’re leaner and meaner now, not as ready to take anyone’s shit.”

“Maybe.”

Broder stayed on top of her, though their conversation had ended. He seemed pretty happy to be touching her right now. Wow, she was getting some pretty mixed signals. Did he want her or not?

“Er, Broder? Is there some reason you’re still on top of me?”

The haze in his eyes seemed to clear and he rolled away from her. She pushed up, watching with interest the flex of his arms as he pushed to his feet.

“Good work today,” he said brusquely, then strode from the room.

Frowning, she stood and followed him through the living room and up the staircase. He was moving so fast, she practically had to run. Right before he went into his bedroom, she caught up to him, laying a hand on his bare upper arm to stop him, then snatching it away as though his skin burned her. Touching him was not a good move; she could still remember the way his body had pressed against hers only minutes before.

“Broder, are you all right?”

He stopped near the entrance of his room, but didn’t turn to face her. “I’m okay.”

“Really? Then why are you literally running away from me?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, but she noticed him make
fists at his sides. “I’m trying to honor your wishes, but it’s hard for me not to touch you.”

She reached out to place her hand on his arm, hesitated and pulled back a little, then went ahead and did it anyway. Warmth radiated into her palm and she could feel the pulse of his heartbeat through the blood in his veins. It seemed to speed up as she rested her hand on him, and the knowledge that she’d affected him in even such a small way thrilled her.

“Don’t touch me,” he growled.

“Why not?” Her voice came out shaky. The tone of his voice had become low, rough, and very, very serious. Suddenly it was as though she were baiting a feral animal. Not smart.

He moved so fast she nearly screamed. One second he was standing with his back to her, the next he had her pinned against the wall. It all happened before she could draw a surprised breath. “Because it makes me do things like this.”