Valan Playboys (2 page)

The one in the middle with elbow length golden hair spoke to the other two after a moment, pausing when another crash of thunder shook the roof. Her gaze meticulously scanned each of my facial features, before she left the two by the front door. A scowl wrinkled the corners of her stunning eyes as she stepped over the bodies on the ground. She slowly made her way to me, allowing me the time to take her measure.

She appeared all of twenty-five years old, uncannily like everyone in this bar—who were conscious—but the way she moved drew my attention. This woman was frightening. Her agile feet barely touched the floor with a talent inert. One I knew well, since I was trained in martial arts throughout my entire childhood. Though, the most formidable weapon in her appearance was the hard set of her jaw and her unwavering scrutiny, both indicating an authority far beyond her youthful appearance.

Stopping at my table, she didn’t speak until she took a seat across from me. When she placed her hands on the table, my eyes honed on the magnificent diamond ring on her thumb,
zoning
on it, my breath even catching. Clenching my jaw, I jerked my attention away from the dazzling sparkles and peered directly into her honey gaze that was near the same shade as her gentle, waving locks. Her lips curved the barest bit, and she tapped her thumb—her ring—absently on the table, her question simple. “Like it?”

My own reply was artless. “Yes.” I didn’t glance at it again.

Honeyed eyes scanned my features casually. “I’m Callie Clover.” She hummed quietly, taking her time with her perusal of my person, not even glancing at the knife I continued to spin on the table. “I was told there was one of mine here who doesn’t have a clue.” A golden brow arched—more than skeptical. “Is that true? Do you not know what you are?”

My lips thinned. “I was told you would provide answers.” I wasn’t telling her anything. Trust was not my strong suit. I tipped my head toward Renner. “When I shook his hand...I felt something. It wasn’t normal. What was it?”

She continued tapping her ring. “Give me your name.”

My brow cocked. “Kiss my ass.”

Honeyed eyes stared. “I gave you an order.”

I snorted softly. “And?”

Her gaze narrowed. “You truly don’t know who I am.” It wasn’t a question. Her lips pinched into a straight line. “Who are your parents?”

My aqua blues turned frosty. “Dead.”

“Their names?”

“Unimportant for this conversation.”

Her brows slammed together, and she sat back on her chair gradually, her gaze running over my features once more. Ever so slowly, her demeanor turned quiet, curious. “Were they not like you?” She flicked a hand at the ceiling. “Able to control the lightning?”

My entire being froze, staring at her. I didn’t move or speak for an extended moment. Silently, I debated as another thunderbolt rattled the ceiling. Eventually, I cleared my throat, and then sat back on my own chair, wanting answers. I stated the truth, “No. They weren’t like me.” I shrugged a casual shoulder. “How do you know about the lightning?”

Her gaze caught on mine. I instantly knew she didn’t like my answer or my question. Her regard altered to a peculiar quietness, a look I remembered well from my own mother, one of protection for a child. Though, this woman before me hid it an instant later with a hooded gaze. She answered calmly, “Because I can do it, too.” She flicked a finger.

A crash of thunder so loud it made my ears ring shook the building around us, the table under us, and caused my knife to slide on the table.

Oh…thank God.

It was really hard to keep my cool as unprecedented tears flooded my eyes, making me quickly blink to hold them at bay. I didn’t cry. Wouldn’t ever cry again. I had done that enough when my parents had died. That wasn’t who I was now, but the relief of not being...
alone
...was so overwhelming. Ricocheting bolts of thunder began sounding above, each one ten times more fierce than the one before.
My
lightning. The power was violent enough to shake the walls, but not the ground as hers—the woman with the answers—had.

Her lips merely curved, chuckling quietly while her head tipped back, as if she could see the lightening from inside the building. Staring up at the ceiling, she crooned, “And you are powerful.” Her fingers ticked on the table in time to the crashes outside before her protective gaze slid back to mine. She shook her head slightly, her tone whisper soft, barely heard over the ruckus of my power. “Don’t cry in front of them, child. Someone as powerful as you should not have a weakness. Not in front of the Demons and Vampires.”

I jutted my chin in defiance. “I don’t cry.”

“Keep it that way.” She stood, gesturing for me to stand. “Let’s go. We have much to speak about, but not here.”

Grabbing my knife, I moved fluidly to my feet. I barely felt the effects of the alcohol any longer with the use of my power. “I still want answers.”

Pure command. “I’ll give them.”

I wasn’t human. I had known that forever, born this way.

But now, I knew exactly what I was. It had taken three months to get caught up on all things ‘me’, but I had gained extreme knowledge under Callie’s tutelage.

First, there was an actual name for what I was.

I was Valkyrie. Not just a freak of nature. And there were loads more Valkyries. The majority of them lived just outside Chicago, IL in one killer-awesome mansion inside the city of Tosas. The crazy part was, before my parents had died, I had lived a whopping thirty miles from this place. Now, I lived with the Valkyrie for the summer, away from my foster parents, where they lived in Chicago, my eighteenth birthday just having passed. My foster parents thought I was at an enrichment summer camp for intellectual college bound teens per the fabulous ‘brochure’ one of the Valkyrie’s had created.

Instead, I was continually learning about the unground world of the Valan. There were a total of eight factions. Four for men, four for women. One created to the likeness of the other, even though ‘matings’ didn’t always occur with a like-to-like faction, hence what Renner had been doing—testing me to see if I was his mate, even though his faction was Demon. Only the male knew, which I thought was entirely heartless, but I was now warned. Unless I wanted my forever mate, it was best not to let the male population of the Valan have skin contact. The only consolation to the ‘mating’ fact was if I got their Vow not to test me. A Vow by a Valan was a willed pact, unbreakable. A Vow worked both ways for men and women.

The men: Demons, Angels, Warlocks, and Shifters.

The women: Vampires, Valkyries, Witches, and Mermaids.

Our population to the humans was laughable, hence why there was now a law stating Valan could no longer fight and squabble with one another. The world was changing with technology, so it was better to have a united atmosphere within the factions. Protectors of each other, and even if not everyone agreed with the new law, it was strictly enforced.

There was also a bonus—once I hit twenty-five years old, I would officially stop aging.

I was immortal.

As long as my head wasn’t chopped off.

No wonder I had never been sick a day in my life.

“Drinking again?” Callie muttered, appearing utterly frazzled. Her hands were messing with her hair constantly. She stood in front of me where I sat in the stone mansion’s large cafeteria. I had taken a post in the corner of the room, the best to see everyone. Swiping at a loose lock of golden hair, she blew out a heavy, relaxing breath. “I need you at your best today.”

Taking another sip of my whiskey, I shrugged. “I’m fine.”

Her tone was sharp. “You’re my personal bodyguard. That position wasn’t handed out lightly. You can’t be utterly sauced and do your job effectively.”

I snorted softly, twirling my glass on the table. “I was given the position because I kicked all of your guards’ asses.” I rolled my eyes, my attitude souring. “Except for you.” She had gotten in the ring with me and royally kicked my ass. I blamed it on how many magical tattooed bands wrapped her wrist, one for each hundred years she had been alive. There were many thin bands crawling up her arm, her position as the Valkyrie queen reasonable. I tipped my head, my manner grumpy. “Queen Clover.” I despised calling her that, having become friends with my mentor, but she had told me I had to in front of Valan, so I played along, still learning the ropes.

She cast a quick warning glance. “Just behave today.”

“I will,” I mumbled, downing my glass. Today was the beginning of a convention of sorts for all the factions, held here at the Valkyrie mansion. They were to discuss the possible construction of other mansions near here, keeping everyone close, instead of spread across the United States of America as they were now—Callie owning enough land to make it possible. Bolts of lightning were periodically rattling the roof overhead as Valkyries prepared for the other high ranking officials to arrive. “What time’s the meeting again?”

“Eleven.” She messed with her hair again, glancing about the room. “They should be arriving sooner, though.”

Watching her, my lips twitched. “You look fine.”

Her face scrunched and her spine straightened. “Of course, I do.” She snapped her fingers at me as she began walking away, down the stairs from this raised section of tables, barking, “And quit drinking so damned much.”

I merely poured another half glass of my liquor and sat back in my solitude. I began to watch the show when individuals I didn’t recognize entered through the doors, arriving early for brunch being served. Callie greeted all of them graciously, the room swiftly filling with Valan.

Having snuck out the backdoor to use the facilities, I slipped back inside, weaving my way through the tables, and ignored the glances I received from my fellow housemates sitting up in this section. I wasn’t your typical Valkyrie. Most had a lighter shade of hair and wore bright colors. My hair was black. I wore the color black, teamed with a few splotches of bright color. Like the simple teal t-shirt that I wore under my leather jacket, my skirt pleated black, and ultra-short and punk to go along with my stylishly ripped black hose and knee high black boots. My make-up matched with heavy eyeliner and a touch of pink lip gloss. I liked to think of myself as the new generation of Valkyrie.

My brows scrunched, my feet almost faltering when I saw a man sitting at my table. He was handsome as sin, black hair spiked roguishly in disarrayed angles, expressive dark eyes, his massive frame sitting reclined on the chair, utterly at ease in his black leather attire. I hadn’t seen him in the masses when others began to arrive, but there had quickly become too many for me to watch over all of them.

He was also drinking my whiskey.

My jaw clenched in frustration. Stopping to sit on my chair, not glancing at him, I stared down at the hordes talking loudly. It was almost time for brunch to be served at the buffet lining the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the forest. “Did I invite you to sit with me and drink my liquor?”

Also not peeing at me, he took another sip from my glass before delicately setting it next to me. He ignored my question to ask his own. “What’s your name?”

Picking the bottle of whiskey up, I refilled my glass. “Lana Claire.” I saw no current reason not to tell him. “My question now?”

He shrugged a shoulder under his leather jacket, his own eyes still out on the crowd. “No one should drink alone.” His gaze did flick to me and I could feel him scanning my profile. “You’re Valkyrie?” When I merely nodded, taking a deep drink, he flicked a finger at the tables a few feet away next to us. “Why aren’t you sitting with your friends?”

“They’re not my friends.” I cracked my neck again. “If you don’t mind, I actually do prefer to drink alone.” I tipped my head to the mingling Valan on the ground floor. “You should probably go back down there.”

His finger merely tapped on the table before his hand snaked out, quickly grabbing the glass I had set down. Taking another drink from it, his regard returned to the crowd. “I prefer my solitude, too.” He said nothing else, only continued to drink from my glass every so often, both of us sitting in, what turned into, companionable silence.