Viking Warrior Rebel (13 page)

She opened her mouth as if to protest but closed it again. “Fine,” she bit out between clenched teeth, but the heat in her eyes wasn't from anger.

“That wasn't so hard.” He wanted to touch her face, but instead, he stood and caught a strand of her hair. He wrapped it around his index finger as he took a step closer, his eyes on her mouth. “I promise you'll like the date.”

Her breath caught and her lips opened.

Lowering his head, he caught her mouth in his. The kiss seared his lips, heat radiating through his body and stirring the wildness inside him again.

Astrid moaned, a sweet sound that made liquid fire rush straight to his groin. He deepened the kiss and pulled her body closer. The soft mounds of her breasts crushed against his chest, and he groaned when he felt her nipples hardening through the fabric of both their shirts. Luke grabbed her hands, pulled them up behind his neck, and caressed her arms as he moved his own hands down to her shoulders and then cradled her face. She complied with a soft sigh, laced her hands at the nape of his neck, and pressed herself even closer to his body.

Undone by her surrender, he wrapped one arm around her back and threaded the other in her hair, tilting her head for a better angle. He delved his tongue into her mouth, savoring the sweet taste of her. Her chest rose in rapid breaths.

He trailed kisses along her jaw, nipped her earlobe, and then moved his lips lower. She gasped when he reached the base of her throat and paused to explore that sensitive spot.

Luke bent Astrid backward, supporting her with an arm behind her back as he pulled down the collar of her shirt and nipped at her clavicle. He was heading lower, but a loud knock on the door made him pause.

Cursing under his breath, he straightened. “What?” he yelled toward the door.

Astrid swayed, and he steadied her by grabbing her hips. Her eyes had a dazed look, and her lips were swollen from his kisses. He couldn't help the satisfied grin that spread across his face.

“Mr. Walter is on the line.” Rex's voice sounded muffled through the door. Luke wondered why his head of security didn't just open the door, but then realized he was being tactful. He and Astrid must have been louder than he thought. “He insists on speaking with you,” Rex said.

“Walter” was the code name Special Agent in Charge Whalert used. Something serious was going down if he insisted on speaking with Luke now instead of just leaving a message. Since Luke kept his FBI-issued phone on silent at all times, Whalert posed as a business associate when he needed to get in touch immediately.

“Are you okay?” Luke asked Astrid. He grinned again when she had to breathe a few times before she could answer.

She glared at him. “I'm fine,” she said, her voice throaty. “I need to go.” She released her hands from the back of his neck and took a step back. Reluctantly, Luke let go of her hips.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” he said and kissed her lips lightly.

Her nose crinkled. “I'm going to order something very expensive to eat.”

He chuckled. “Of course you are.” He watched her tempting ass as she strode to the door and noticed she put on some extra hip action. Vixen. “Wear something pretty for me,” he threw after her.

Her answer was holding up a middle finger. Without as much as a glance his way, she exited the room.

Luke wondered how much of a hassle she'd give Rex as she rearmed herself.

He sat down at his desk and adjusted the raging hard-on in his pants before he punched the blinking button on the landline. “Yo,” he said into the receiver.

“What the fuck took so you long?” His boss sounded angry and impatient at the same time. “Your obnoxious hold music is giving me a migraine.”

Luke smiled. Whalert was obviously not a fan of house music. “Bathroom,” he lied.

“TMI,” Whalert growled.

“Then don't ask,” Luke shot back.

Some grumbling traveled down the line, and then Whalert took a deep breath. “Is this a secure line?”

“It is.” Luke's club owner persona didn't always walk on the right side of the law, so he made a point of having all his office lines in permanent secure.

“There's increased chatter on the Darknet. Pine Rapids has been mentioned several times.”

Cold spread through Luke's stomach. “Any details?”

“No, but something heavy is going down. Troops are being assembled. We don't know by whom yet.” Luke bet the wolverines were responsible, but disclosing that would mean describing the paranormal traits of the creatures. And that would get him pulled out of the field for sure. Straight to a mental health evaluation. “I'm sending you backup from the official divisions of FBI,” Whalert said.

“Not yet,” Luke implored. “Let's figure out the extent of the threat and who's posing it before we spook these bastards and they go underground again.”

Whalert sighed, which told Luke he'd won this round of the argument. “No backup right now, but I'm keeping the men on alert standby.”

“Fair enough,” Luke said.

“Any progress with the map?”

“The southeast location is an abandoned farm. The fields are cleared of crops, and the buildings haven't been used for several months, maybe a year. Another marked area is in the middle of the forest.” Whalert didn't need to know yet about that place's connection with Naya and Astrid. Luke had to figure out how the women and Naya's fiancé and brother fit into the picture before he put them in an official report. He knew the immediate people up the chain from Whalert, but a few links further up, the titles and names grew vague.

Until he knew exactly who was receiving the information he reported, he was keeping a lot of it to himself. He didn't want to unknowingly disclose something that could trigger extra interest or drop just the right name that would cause him to be replaced by someone with higher security clearance. Or worse, someone who wanted this case buried for the wrong reasons. “The marked area in the warehouse district is just that—a warehouse,” he continued. “It doesn't look abandoned as much as just unused. I have a tap on some security cameras in the area in case any activity flares up.”

“Good,” Whalert said. “Anything else I should know?”

Luke hesitated, but then decided it would be in his best interest to mention Astrid's invitation now. If something came of it, he didn't want to be reprimanded later for not keeping his boss in the loop. Besides, Astrid was already in official reports, thanks to Broden. “I'm making progress with the target. She's invited me to a wedding.” Okay, so technically Astrid was just the messenger. The invitation came from Naya. And Luke knew he made it sound as if the wedding was a date, but…

What if Astrid had a date for the wedding? The thought raced through his head, leaving a lump of burning anger in his stomach. He banged his fist hard on the desk. If Astrid went to the wedding with another man, he'd—

“What the fuck, Luke,” Whalert shouted down the line. “Am I having this conversation with myself now?”

Luke had completely zoned out. He raked his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. “I knocked over a glass on the desk,” he fibbed. “There's water everywhere.”

“Fine. I'll let you go,” Whalert said. “Keep me posted and remember, I'm sending backup as soon as we can assess the situation better.”

“Roger that.” Luke saluted with two fingers.

Whalert sighed and then hung up.

Luke returned the receiver to its cradle with more force than necessary. He was still thinking about Astrid's potential date to the wedding. When he saw her tomorrow, he'd make it clear that he'd be the only one by her side at the wedding. An image of him and Astrid facing the preacher together at the altar flashed through his mind. Instead of scaring the shit out of him—like it should—it felt strangely right.

Luke leaned forward and banged his forehead on the desk several times. The woman had him so mixed up, and he saw no way out of this mess. There was no way not to hurt Astrid. Eventually she'd figure out he'd lied to her. The worst possible outcome was Astrid finding out he'd deceived her before he solved the case. If that happened, he had no doubt of the outcome.

She'd kill him.

The only question was how much she'd make it hurt.

Astrid was trying on dresses when Naya burst into her room. The queen's fists were clenched at her sides. “He makes me so mad,” she said and sat down among a pile of discarded dress candidates on the bed. Distracted, she looked at the carnage beside her. “What's this?” she asked, holding up a pink-and-yellow-flowered dress. The pattern was way too girlie. Astrid didn't know why she'd bought it in the first place.

“You want it?” she asked, looking at Naya through the mirror on her closet door. She smoothed down the skirt of the emerald-green knit dress she was currently trying on. Even with three-quarter-length sleeves, it looked too wintry.

Naya frowned. “I so don't have the curves to pull off flowers. I'm all sharp edges and jutting bones. I'd look like a twelve-year-old girl pretending to be a grown-up.” Astrid disagreed but didn't bother saying so. The queen had a slight but muscular frame, and there were plenty of curves on her body. “What I meant was,” Naya continued, “why are you trying on all these clothes?”

“I'm cleaning out my closet.” Heat crept into Astrid's cheeks at the lie, and she could see Naya noticing the blush. Her friend opened her mouth as if to speak. “What did Leif do this time?” Astrid quickly interjected.

The distraction worked, and the speculative glint in Naya's eyes disappeared. “Not Leif. Scott,” she said. “My brother insists on leaving the fortress.”

“Why?” Astrid turned around and shoved the pile of dresses toward the headboard so she could sit down next to Naya.

“He says this is my life, and he needs his own.” She fiddled with the dress she was still holding. “I can't make him see that he
is
part of my life.”

“Give him some time to settle in. Once he gets used to all of us, he'll change his mind.”

Naya shook her head. “We've had this argument ever since you got back from Denver. He won't see reason. Just tells me to stop bossing him around.”

“It's going to be hard for him. Now that you're a full Valkyrie, he'll be the only regular human around here.” Naya had been a genetically enhanced human when she met Leif, but Freya had claimed her as a Valkyrie. Just before the royal couple completed their handfasting ceremony—their betrothal—Irja and Astrid had performed a private Valkyrie initiation with Naya. They still didn't know if the queen had become immortal through her bond with Leif, but she now had a full-fledged berserker. Her fighting skills were even more honed than they had been when she first came to live with the Norse warriors. She trained longer and harder than all of them. Usually sparring with the king, verbally and physically.

Naya stilled. “I didn't think of it that way.” She plucked at the bedspread. “But I didn't feel like an outsider just because I wasn't one of you at first.”

Astrid made a rude noise. “You said you'd always felt like an outsider.”

Naya dismissed her comment with a wave of her hand. “But not because I wasn't like you. Because I'd never learned how to connect with other people. Except for Scott.”

“Maybe your brother needs some time to figure out how to do that too.”

“That's why I want Holden at the wedding. So that Scott has someone else to relate to. Someone who isn't one of the warriors.”

At the mention of Holden's name, Astrid had to look away. “That's a good plan,” she said.

“What did he say when you asked him?”

“He'll be there.” Astrid still couldn't look at her friend. “Has Leif come around to the idea of Holden as one of the wedding guests?”

“Not exactly. We just don't talk about it.” Naya stood, holding the flowered dress up against her body and turning in front of the mirror. “I get that it's a big security risk, but I screened Holden before I took the contract to redesign his security system.” She lowered the dress, holding the bunched fabric in both hands. “Besides, he helped you rescue Scott.”

Astrid shrugged. Holden may not be a physical threat, but he was definitely a threat to her sanity. The kiss in his office shouldn't have happened, but heat had crackled between them as soon as she stepped through the door. She couldn't control her emotions or her libido when he was around. When he'd touched his lips to hers, her berserker had gone wild. It had taken an enormous amount of willpower to leave the room after Rex interrupted them. Thank Freya he had. Her skin felt flushed just thinking about the kiss again. She needed another topic of discussion. “Is Scott well enough to leave the fortress?”

Naya turned her back toward the mirror and threw the dress on the pile on the bed. “Irja says he's improving steadily, but she recommends several months of physical therapy.”

“Maybe you should also bring up the escalated threat of the wolverines and how we think they're on their way here for an attack.”

“I did. I told him it wasn't safe for him to be out on his own.” Naya rubbed her forehead. “But Scott said that was another reason for him not to stick around.” She fell facedown onto the bed. “I don't know what to do,” she said into the comforter. She turned her face sideways. “There's more chatter on the Darknet message boards. The wolverines are assembling large troops and moving this way. They specifically mentioned Pine Rapids several times.”

Cold shivered down Astrid's spine. Troops of enhanced wolverines threatening the population of Pine Rapids were a nightmare come true. How was their band of warriors going to defeat the creatures? “Do you still want to go through with the wedding?”

Naya's eyes turned solemn as she watched Astrid. “Yes. Leif and I need to complete our bond now more than ever. The stronger our connection, the stronger the warriors are.” It was true. Ever since the handfasting, the intricate connection the warriors' berserkers created with each other and the royal couple had become more powerful.

They still didn't know all the advantages of their increased awareness of each other, but so far it was working out great during fights. Without having to think about it, Astrid knew exactly where each of her battle brothers and sisters were. If an enemy entered their field of vision, she could feel the physical location of the opponent. It had been overwhelming and distracting at first, but the more the warriors trained together, the more they knew how to use this new skill to their advantage.

Astrid rubbed Naya's back. “I wish you could have a wedding only for joyous reasons.”

Naya smiled. “The main reason is all about joy. I love Leif. I want to pledge myself fully to him. And to his people.”

“To your people,” Astrid corrected.

“All our people,” Naya replied, moisture gathering in her eyes. “Ah, this is getting all sappy. Let's talk about how to change my stubborn brother's mind instead.”

Astrid refrained from pointing out that stubbornness was a family trait. “You're approaching the problem wrong.”

Her friend looked at Astrid through ink-black bangs. “What do you mean?”

“Instead of telling him how dangerous it is for him to be without protection, play on his pride and manhood. Tell him you don't feel safe unless he's here with you.”

Naya snorted. “He'd never go for that. Why would I need my brother to protect me when I fight better than him and have a gang of burly Viking guards around twenty-four-seven?”

“If you lay it on thick enough, it may work.” Astrid tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “The testosterone-filled half of the human species is not known for thinking logically and is definitely not immune to flattery.” Actually, Holden seemed to be. She could flatter and flirt with him the whole night, and he still wouldn't cave in to her demands. Unless she demanded things in bed. She pushed the thought out of her mind, but it was too late. Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. Astrid cleared her throat. “But that's not what I was talking about.”

“Go on,” Naya said. “What are you talking about?”

“Emotional security.” Astrid scratched her nose. “Tell Scott you need him here for your mental well-being. Explain how you are connected to us through the bond with Leif and your berserker. Tell him that worrying about him would make you a liability to all of us. No man would want the responsibility of that.”

Naya's eyes went round. “You're a genius.” She grabbed Astrid's face and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Freaking brilliant idea,” she shouted.

Astrid smiled at her friend's enthusiasm, but then turned serious. “I don't know your brother very well, but during the car trip from Denver he talked about how much he admired you.” She grabbed Naya's hands. “He may not understand how much you need him. Plus, it's always been just the two of you, and now there's this whole tribe of people who support you and love you. He may feel like Leif and the rest of us have replaced him in your heart.”

Naya nodded. “I've been selfish. I haven't looked at the situation from Scott's point of view.” She flashed a mischievous grin. “But that doesn't mean I'm not going to majorly guilt trip him into staying.” She rushed out the door at the same reckless speed with which she'd entered.

* * *

Astrid arrived at Holden's club ten minutes after their agreed-upon time. She hated being late, but she couldn't leave before she'd hung the outfits back in her closet. Leaving them in a wrinkled heap on the bed would have bugged her all night. She'd had so little for so long that she cherished every possession she now owned.

In the end, she'd settled on black skintight jeans and a sleeveless tunic. The top was covered in intricate, black pearl embroidery that sparkled when she moved. It also hid the throwing knives tucked into special sheaths around her waist. The tunic was both beautiful and practical. A Valkyrie couldn't ask for more.

She adjusted the daggers in her boots before she strode up to the club's entrance. It was still early in the evening, and the usual long line of people eager to be seen at the exclusive club hadn't yet formed. The berserker stirred, projecting into Astrid's mind an image of writhing bodies on the dance floor. She clamped down on her mental connection with the beast and soothed it back into rest. Her inner warrior had never before been that explicit in her demand to
feberandas
. The process of absorbing the sexual energy that generated on a dance floor. The berserker had projected hunger before, but it had always been a feeling, never a clear picture or actual words.

Astrid breathed deeply several times to calm herself and her inner warrior. Although Holden had blackmailed her into the situation, she was secretly thrilled to go on a date with him. Even if the flowery dress back at the fortress wasn't her style, she still had girlie feelings. And sharing a meal with a handsome man to whom she was attracted physically and intellectually didn't happen often. She never went through with the courting part because she knew she'd only spend one night with a man. A date meant slow sexual buildup. Handling the berserker tonight would be like trying to keep the lid on a pressure cooker.

She took one more deep breath and then pushed open the door to the club. Astrid passed through the foyer and continued. Rex was standing by the bar, discussing something with one of the bartenders. The circular bar was a giant glass aquarium with fish swimming around and around. The bright lights filtering through the water and the glass cast the club in shades of blue and turquoise. There was no sign of Holden.

Rex turned and walked toward her. “Astrid,” he said, holding out his hand.

“I'm not surrendering my weapons tonight.” She batted her lashes. “Besides, you should know that if I wanted to hurt your boss, I could do so with my bare hands.”

Rex chuckled. “I have no doubt you can, but you can keep your knives tonight.” Instead of frisking her, he took her by the elbow and led her to the bar. “You are always stunning, but you look especially beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you,” Astrid said, wondering why all the flattery.

“Mr. Holden is a little delayed, but he will be down shortly.” Ah, so that was why Rex was laying on the compliments so thickly. He was covering for his boss. “How about a drink while you wait?” Rex asked.

Astrid asked for a gin and tonic and settled on one of the barstools. She was deep in a discussion with the bartender and Rex about soccer when Holden appeared by her side. In the gloom of the club, she hadn't noticed him walk up.

He kissed her temple. “Sorry I'm late.”

She shrugged, hiding how much the small gesture pleased her. “No problem.” She nodded toward Rex and the bartender. “These guys have kept me entertained with their faulty logic on why they root for the English players in the UEFA Champions League.”

Holden's smile crinkled his eyes. “Let me guess. You support the Scandinavians.”

She swung the barstool around, freeing her legs from underneath the bar. “But of course. They're superior players. Why else does every self-respecting professional team recruit at least a few of them?”

Both Rex and the bartender protested loudly, but she was too mesmerized by Holden to pay them any attention. He was wearing a charcoal shirt over indigo denim jeans. The fabric of the shirt looked impossibly expensive and draped his shoulders in a perfect fit, obviously tailored. The dark-gray color perfectly matched his eyes, and it was hard not to lose herself in the heat she saw smoldering in their depths.

Great Freya, she was in trouble and their date hadn't even started yet. She took a breath to steady herself and slid down from the barstool.

“Shall we?” Holden swept his hand out toward the door.

Not trusting her voice, she waved good-bye to the other two men and walked toward the club exit.

Holden's hand applied a comforting pressure on the small of her back. “You look great,” he said.

“You're not so bad yourself, Holden,” she said with a smile.