Viking Warrior Rebel (24 page)

Astrid remembered the meeting well. She'd freaked too. Luke was supposed to be just a one-night stand. A way to calm her berserker temporarily. “Why are you so interested in Naya?”

Luke stood, and she quickly drew the gun on him. Hurt flickered in his eyes, but she didn't give a shit. “I'm getting something to drink,” he said. “Do you want anything?”

“I'm fine.” He'd probably drug her. She watched him go to the kitchen area and return with a bottle of water. “Naya,” she repeated.

With a sigh, he sat down again. “I knew Naya was somehow associated with the labs that are creating super soldiers. I just didn't know how. The goal of my mission is to take down those labs and the people responsible for them.”

She looked down at the gun she was holding in her lap. “So you kept sleeping with me to get to Naya.” She embraced the anger filling her chest. It was better than the cold lump forming around her heart. She looked him straight in the eye. “I took you to my house when you got sick. Endangered everyone I care about so you would get better.” She laughed bitterly. “I'm such a fool. I gave you exactly what you wanted.”

“You don't understand.” He cleared his throat. “I grew up in a lab just like Naya's. I had a brother who couldn't take the treatments. My brother died.”

Astrid sat back. This was not what she expected. She felt bad for his brother, but he had used her for weeks. All because of a brother who was already dead. “I get the need for revenge, but don't you care about who you hurt in the process?” People like her. She swallowed again. “Is every method justified to get your answers? Could you not have gotten close to me without screwing me?” She shook her head. “You must have pissed yourself laughing when I showed up here talking about handfasting and engagements.”

The tic in Luke's jaw was back. “No,” he mumbled. “I wasn't supposed to…like you as much as I did. I couldn't help myself. After that one night at the club, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I had to—”

“What about Denver?” She didn't want to hear what he had to do. “That wasn't really a fluke meeting, was it?”

He shook his head. “You have to understand. Nothing will stand in the way of bringing down the people who made my brother's life so miserable that he killed himself.”

“So to you it's totally okay to lie to me, fuck me over, and make me a traitor to my people, all in the name of your dead brother?”

“I didn't think about it like that.”

“How did you think about it?”

“I couldn't stay away from you. I needed you too much.” His eyes burned with regret, but she steeled herself against it.

She stood. “Don't try to complicate things by pretending you had feelings for me.” She holstered her gun. “We're done.” She took the few steps leading to the door and opened it.

“Astrid, please understand—”

“I do understand. It's very simple really. Your dead brother is the most important person to you.”

He hesitated but then nodded. And there it was. It was so simple when she broke it down. There would always be people more important than her. Nobody would ever put her first.

“I hope you find your revenge,” Astrid said. “I'm sure your brother would be very proud of everything you've done.”

She stepped through the door, and it swung closed behind her as she walked down the hallway. She really did understand. He'd only used her for his own gain. A thrall could earn her freedom, but that didn't make her important or valuable.

The elevator took too long, so she took the stairs instead. Through blurred vision, she raced down the steps, proud of the fact that she didn't spill a single tear until she got to the car. Once behind the tinted windows of the SUV, she allowed them to flow. As she drove off, she vowed that those were the last tears she'd shed for any man.

Especially Luke.

All that was left now was to confess to the king how she'd betrayed her people.

Luke scanned the dive bar that Whalert had reluctantly agreed to meet in. It was located across the border in Idaho. The decor looked like the interior designer couldn't decide between a hunting lodge and a biker bar. Harley-Davidson T-shirts and chrome hubcaps competed for wall space with antlers and various taxidermy.

It was early afternoon, but three patrons were already well on their way to half drunk at the bar. Judging by how well their asses fit the indentions on the stools they sat on, they were all regulars. Whalert were nowhere to be found, so Luke chose a booth far from the bar and sat down on the slightly sticky vinyl.

Christ, how had Whalert found this place?

A waitress appeared and asked what he wanted to drink. Her tight T-shirt showed off the bar's logo as well as her ample cleavage. She cocked her hip flirtatiously, but her heart wasn't in it. Her voice came out flat, and she didn't make eye contact. He asked for coffee, and she shuffled off toward the bar.

Luke scratched the twenty-four-hour stubble on his jaw. He hadn't been able to go back to sleep after his fight with Astrid.
Fight
was such a mild word for what had really happened.
Fucking disaster
fit better. He'd revealed who he truly was, completely blown his cover, and it didn't mean anything because he'd hurt her.

He would make things right with her. He would…

He would stop lying to himself. She didn't want anything to do with his sorry ass.

He'd fucked up her life. He would never forgive himself for that.

He needed to get his head back in the game though. If both Denver and Pine Rapids PDs had surveillance footage of him, they were most likely tailing him too. And if they were following him, they could be following Astrid. He didn't know how far the corruption reached, but the idea of whoever wanted his boss also knowing about Astrid made his stomach turn.

Whalert slid into the seat across the table, startling Luke. The door hadn't opened. “Where did you come from,” he asked.

“Back door.” Whalert aimed his thumb toward the innards of the bar. Luke didn't bother looking. “You look like shit,” his former boss told him.

“Haven't slept much.”

“You look like you have the flu or something.”

Luke did feel like he was running a low-grade fever. His muscles ached and his skin was sensitive to touch, but there were too many other things to worry about right now. He looked Whalert over. His face was covered in a dingy beard, and his flannel shirt had completely lost whatever its original color was. “You don't look so well yourself.”

Whalert smirked, the expression little more than a twitch in his tired face. “Haven't slept so good lately myself.”

The waitress plopped down Luke's coffee, and Whalert asked for one as well. He was rewarded with a big sigh and an eye roll. Whalert returned his gaze to Luke. “Why are we meeting?”

Once Luke had figured out his boss was close by, he'd insisted on a meeting instead of talking on the phone. It was easier to persuade people in person. “Denver PD and Pine Rapids PD have footage of me meeting with Kraus.”

“Fuck.” Whalert slumped down in the booth. “I didn't think about scrubbing police databases.”

Luke stirred his coffee. It smelled like it had been on the burner for a while. “I wouldn't have either. FBI must have reached out to the police to keep tabs on Kraus. If you hadn't had to run, we could have planned accordingly.”

“We have to pull you,” Whalert said. “You're compromised. I know it's an insult to ask, but you're sure you weren't followed to this place?”

“I know how to shake a tail,” Luke said. He'd been followed from his apartment, but that detail was probably still watching his car parked outside the coffee shop in which he'd changed clothes before sneaking out the back way. He'd come to the bar on the Ducati bike he kept in a storage unit, rented under yet another fake identity. “I can't pull out though. We've come too far, and I've taken money from Kraus.” And now he owed Astrid. He had to fix all this, or at least take out Kraus.

Whalert rubbed his forehead. “What's the alternative?”

“We have to retrieve the information from the local PDs, see how far it's traveled up the chain in DTU and FBI, and then erase all of it from their records.”

Whalert barked out a laugh. “Sure, I'll get right on that.” He shook his head. “I think this is where we say our good-byes. If you followed the advice I gave when you first joined my office, you have a few unused identities hidden in a safety deposit box somewhere. Now is a good time to use one of those.”

Luke shook his head. “I'm not joking. I know someone who can do this for us. She did cybersecurity for the nightclub, and she can hack into anything.”

“And if she gets caught?”

“She hasn't been so far.” Luke was pretty sure Naya had rummaged through all kinds of government databases. As much credit as Whalert deserved for his efforts to keep the DTU division completely separate from FBI, it was still a small miracle she hadn't blown Luke's cover when she screened him as a client.

Whalert mulled that over for a moment and then nodded. “Set it up.”

Luke fished out his phone and called Naya's number. She answered on the first ring.

“You have fifteen seconds to tell me what you've done to Astrid. She's not talking to any of us. Only Leif knows what's going on, and he's not sharing.”

Luke cringed. “I'm a jerk, but that's not why I'm calling.” Naya terminated the call. “Shit.” Luke smacked the table.

Whalert leaned back in his seat. “Women troubles?”

Luke shot him a dark look. “It's not what you think.” He tapped a text message to Naya:
Pine Rapids PD is following Astrid and others. She may be in danger.
A long minute later, his phone rang.

“Explain,” Naya demanded.

He put her on speaker. “It's a very long story. We need to meet.” He could hear her talking to someone in the background. Their voices became louder and then muffled, as if she put her hand over the speaker. Was she talking to Astrid? A useless twinge of hope rose in his chest. He clamped it down.

Naya came back on the line. “Picnic table at Bear Lake boat launch in two hours.” She hung up.

Luke looked at Whalert, who nodded. “Got it,” he said. “We'll drive separately.”

* * *

Twenty miles north of Pine Rapids, Luke steered his motorcycle off the highway and onto the turnoff for the Bear Lake recreational area. The small, teardrop-shaped lake was popular with boaters and swimmers in the summer. This early in the spring, the park surrounding the lake was mostly empty. A single boat trailer sat in the parking lot, and he could see a lone fisherman out in the middle of the lake.

Luke lowered the kickstand of the Ducati and cut the engine. He removed his helmet and tugged off his gloves as he walked to the nearby picnic tables. He'd just sat down when a silver Porsche Boxster S pulled in next to his bike. Naya and Leif got out and approached the table. They slid in across from him. Naya's eyes blazed with anger.

Leif's glare was ice cold, his face an impenetrable mask. He put his cell phone on the table.

“So, you brought backup,” Luke said to Naya, trying to break the ice. His own backup, Whalert, had parked half a mile up the highway and was making his way cross-country to the lake. Hopefully he'd be among the trees soon, covering Luke's ass with firepower.

“I didn't bring him,” Naya said. “He insisted on coming.” She glared at Leif, who ignored her.

Keeping his focus on Luke, the blond giant leaned back and crossed his arms. “Put your hands where I can see them.”

Luke laid his hands on the table, palms down. “He doesn't really blend well.” He aimed his words at Naya, avoiding Leif's icy stare. An itchy feeling on the back of his neck told him he was being watched.

“I've already explained that to him,” she countered.

“Enough chitchat,” Leif bit out. “Why are the police following Astrid?”

Luke debated how much to tell and how to spin it. Better to just lay it all out there. “I work for the government—”

Naya jerked back. Leif didn't look surprised, but he cursed under his breath. It came out as a growl.

Luke held up his hands, palms facing Leif. “We're just talking, right?” Luke's heart rate increased. His nostrils flared.

Leif's eyes widened. He looked at Naya, and an unspoken message passed between them.

“Which part of the government?” Naya asked.

“It's a covert operation within the FBI.” He launched into an explanation of how DTU was operating under more freedom. He finished by describing their mission of taking down the covert genetic labs. “I know you were involved in taking down the North Dakota lab,” he said to Naya. She nodded but didn't volunteer any details.

Leif's phone buzzed, and he turned it over to check his screen. “Is the guy in the woods with you?” he asked Luke. “Does he work for DTU as well?”

Damn it. How had they caught Whalert? The guy was a master in staying hidden. “Yes,” Luke gritted out between clenched teeth. “He's my boss. My former boss.” He rubbed his face. “It's a long story.”

Leif tapped a few keys on his phone and then put it back down. “Sten's bringing him over.”

“When you hired me to work on your club's security protocols, I thoroughly screened you. How did I not find your government connection?” Naya's forehead furrowed.

“Maybe you're not as good of a hacker as you think you are,” Luke said. Leif growled again, and Luke hastily continued. “DTU is on a completely different IT infrastructure. We have access to FBI's information and databases, but they have no clue who we are. They think we're just another division.”

Naya nodded, distracted. Her eyes glazed over as if she was figuring out how to break into the DTU system. Luke was okay with that. He'd probably ask her to do exactly that in a minute.

Whalert appeared at the edge of the woods and walked across the parking lot. The young blond who had heckled Ulf at the wedding followed close behind. He must be Sten. His face was much more serious and closed up than last time Luke saw him.

When they reached the table, Sten nodded to Leif and then walked over to lean against the Porsche.

Whalert looked at Sten, and then he turned to Leif. “What are you guys? SOG?”

Leif's eyebrows rose. “Something like that.”

Naya snorted.

“What's SOG?” Luke asked.

“Special Operations Group,” Whalert answered. “It's a Swedish counterterrorism unit. They've only been operating since 2011 but are one of the most effective in the world. Think of them as a combination of Delta Force and Navy SEALs. They're one of the most secretive military units. Nobody knows how many troops they have or their organizational structure.” He shook his head. “As soon as you told me you'd met Scandinavian military operating within the United States, I figured they must be SOG.” His voice was laced with admiration.

Luke shot a look at Leif, who returned it with an ice-cold glare of his own. Luke decided that if the SOG explanation worked for Whalert, they should stick with that. The whole “immortal warrior sent on a mission by the gods” thing would just cause a lot of headaches. He wasn't sure he'd quite wrapped his mind around that himself.

Whalert sat down next to Luke. “What's your target?” he asked Leif.

Naya put her hand on Leif's arm. “To take down the genetic labs,” she answered.

“That's ours too,” Whalert said. Luke shot him a look. His boss never shared information, not even with his operatives. All of a sudden he was Chatty Cathy. “They're SOG,” Whalert said to Luke, as if that justified giving away secrets.

Naya and Leif exchanged a look again. “Can we get back to why the police are targeting us?” Naya asked.

Luke explained how he'd been working undercover as a nightclub owner and how he'd lured in Kraus once it became clear he was involved with the genetic labs. He rubbed the back of his neck. The tingling feeling he got when someone had their sights on him wouldn't go away. “Does Astrid know you are undercover?” Naya asked.

“She does now.” He avoided looking at Leif.

“You dick,” she hissed. “Did you use her as part of your cover?”

“No,” Luke exclaimed and then scratched his chin. “Yes, maybe. I don't know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn't fake how I felt—feel—about her. I may not have told her the whole story, but everything that happened between us was real.” He met Naya's eyes, imploring her to believe him. “I will fix this.”

Leif shifted in his seat. “You have to.” He glanced at Whalert. “For Astrid's sake.” He must be talking about the berserker going into permanent battle fever. But didn't that just happen when one of the bonded people died? Luke grabbed Naya's hand, but dropped it when a low warning rumbled through Leif's chest, vibrating the whole table. “My brother and I grew up in a lab in Northern California. I never knew my parents. As far as I know, I may have been born in that lab.”

Naya slowly shook her head. “You think you were born in a lab?”

Whalert grunted. “I knew there was a reason you were so gung ho about this mission.”

Luke ignored him. “We escaped and stayed hidden, but my brother died. The chemicals they injected us with in the lab gave him horrible nightmares and hallucinations. He couldn't handle them. He committed suicide.”

Naya's eyes filled with tears. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered.

Leif studied Luke as if he was trying to figure out whether Luke was lying. “You know that a sappy story about a dead brother would pull on Naya's sympathies. Before I believe you, tell us what the drugs did to you.”

Whalert tensed next to Luke. “Yeah, what did they do to you?”