Viking Warrior Rebel (4 page)

The wolverine and she danced clumsily, their feet scuffing the concrete floor as they jockeyed for dominance. She tried to trip him, but he side shuffled with more fancy footwork, and she just managed to get herself off balance. His shirt had ripped, and she could see that the wound above his collarbone had already closed and was no longer bleeding. Did these suckers regenerate now too? Was there no end to the clusterfuck this mission was fast becoming?

Her strength quickly waned, while the wolverine seemed to regain his. She had to act fast. Leaning her head back, she thrust forward with a burst of energy and crashed her forehead into the bridge of his nose.
Freya's fury, that hurt bad.
But it worked. The wolverine stumbled backward and fell, holding his nose—unfortunately also still holding her dagger, but at least she got a little breathing room. She moved to stomp on the hand holding her knife. Her planned follow-up would then be a heel kick to his throat, but before she could position herself, a car beeped unlocked and cheerful female chatter approached.

Astrid quickly looked around and spotted three women loaded down with shopping bags walking toward an SUV parked one row over. Freya's mercy, she'd once again been so caught up in a fight that she'd forgotten to check her surroundings. This was how she'd almost killed a bystander. She watched the shoppers, but they were oblivious to her presence and drove off a minute later. That's when she remembered she'd taken her eyes off the wolverine and turned to where he'd last been on the ground.

A sharp stab on the inside of her thigh was the first clue that he'd moved from where he'd fallen. She looked down to find her own dagger buried all the way to the hilt in her leg. Although the wolverine's face was a mess of broken tissue and bone, he still managed to smirk at her. “Gotcha,” he hissed.

The effort of bending down was almost too much, but she pulled out the dagger. When blood slushed out of the wound at an alarming rate, she realized she should have left it in. The creature must have hit the femoral artery. She sank to her knees and slowly slumped sideways.

With every slowing heartbeat, her blood pulsed out of her leg. She watched the wolverine struggling to stand. He looked down at her for a minute before slowly limping toward his dead partner. She closed her eyes and listened to the creature's uneven steps and the dragging noise indicating he was taking the body with him as he left.

When she thought they were far enough away, she reached for the silk scarf around her neck. She barely had enough strength left to undo the knot. She was immortal, but only in the sense that her body healed so quickly that injuries never turned mortal. She still bled and this wound was pumping blood so fast that it didn't look like she would be able to heal in time. She wrapped the scarf around her leg and pulled it tight. This was going to be a close one.

Luke drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. What the hell was Astrid doing at the train station? She'd better not have skipped town. He berated himself for not keeping closer tabs on her. She'd driven into the mountains that morning and he'd followed her for a while, but the roads had become increasingly narrow and more deserted. He'd had to abort, or she would have made him. Maybe he should have sent another agent from the Denver field office, but she'd be suspicious of any car following her for hours on those mountain roads. Instead, he'd kept track of her on his computer through the GPS tracker Broden had attached to her car. He'd been going stir-crazy in his hotel room, pacing back and forth while desperately hoping she'd eventually return to Denver.

She had, and now the little bleep on his screen showed that her vehicle had been stationary in the train-station parking garage for more than two hours. He fidgeted in his seat. This was why he never wanted a desk job. He was a man of action. Sitting on his ass made him squirrelly. Maybe she'd found the tracker and ditched it. He wouldn't put it past her. Besides being one of the most stunning women he'd met, she was also one of the smartest. It wasn't just because her beauty had him tongue-tied that he had to stay on top of his game in their verbal sparring. The lady had an amazingly high IQ, which was another reason he couldn't stop thinking about her. Intelligent women had always turned him on.

Too bad she was using all those smarts on the wrong side of the law. He couldn't prove it, but every ounce of his intuition screamed that whatever Astrid was up to, it was illegal. And his intuition was rarely wrong. He checked the blinking marker on his screen again. Right now, the uneasy feeling in his stomach told him something wasn't right about Astrid leaving her car in one place for this long.

He'd followed her to the garage and parked in the shadows across the street to keep an eye on the well-lit parking garage exit. From this position, he could also see the two stair exits that would lead to the restaurants in the area. Astrid had not used any of the exits, so he assumed she'd taken the walkway connected to the train station. But why spend hours inside the station? He could see the main exit to that building too, so she hadn't slipped out that way.

Maybe she'd evaded him by jumping on one of the buses that served the station. The uneasiness in his stomach increased to full queasiness, and he hit the heel of his palm on the steering wheel.

Enough sitting around. Time for action.

He grabbed the GPS tracker display and jogged across the street. The device wouldn't show which floor Astrid's car was parked on, but it should indicate that he had gotten closer. If he overshot the right floor, he'd just go back down.

Luke had ascended only a few steps when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and instinctively hugged the shadows of the stairwell. A lone male figure moved with purpose along the sidewalk in front of the garage. Dressed entirely in black, the man avoided the parts of the sidewalk lit by the streetlamps and kept his chin low, as if to avoid exposing his face to any security cameras. From his higher position, Luke noticed two Band-Aids stretching across the bridge of the guy's nose. A recent break.

The man strode down the sidewalk purposefully but kept his body loose and limber, as if ready for any attack. The dude was either military or law enforcement. Luke would bet his badge on that.

He kept still as the guy jogged soundlessly through the unmanned car entrance, moving as if he knew exactly where he was going. A cold knot formed in Luke's stomach, pushing all the earlier queasiness to the side. This guy had something to do with Astrid, but was he an ally or an enemy? Judging by the guy's covert movements, Luke thought the man was hostile. What the fuck had Astrid gotten herself into?

Luke leaped down the two steps in one motion and followed. The man was moving at a fast clip, too fast to be purely human. Luke quickly scanned the parking garage, but nobody else was around. No need for himself to keep to a human-only speed. Making sure his footfalls landed on the balls of his feet, he soundlessly followed his prey. If the man led him to Astrid, Luke might have another connection between her and the covert bio labs. He already knew Naya was somehow connected. It might just be a coincidence that the guy appeared near Astrid's car, but he definitely had received some of the same treatments that Luke and his brother had. Nobody could move like that without some kind of bio enhancement. And Luke didn't believe in coincidences.

Ice-cold determination trickled through his veins. He was so focused on following the man undetected that the rest of the parking garage blurred as he used his inhuman speed to keep up. The man kept circling up the floors until he reached the third level, where he headed in a straight path down one of the rows of cars. Luke could make out Astrid's silver SUV farther down the row and wasn't surprised when the man headed straight for it.

The guy paused in front of the car and checked the surrounding area before putting his face up against the side window to look inside. His smile was feral as he focused on whatever he saw. Luke held his breath. Was Astrid in there? Seeing a trail of blood leading to or from the car—he couldn't tell at that distance—he took a deep breath to keep his heart from jackhammering out of his chest.

Grabbing the door handle, the man yanked it hard. The motion turned more violent when the car door didn't cooperate. Relief flooded through Luke, and he exhaled. The guy was so intent on his task that he still hadn't noticed Luke. He yanked the car handle again and growled low in the back of his throat when it still didn't budge. His fist hit the window. Whatever or whoever was inside that car, this guy wanted to get inside badly. A trickle of fear made the hairs on Luke's neck stand up. Whatever illegal shit Astrid had gotten herself into, this guy was out to physically harm her. If she was inside that car, Luke had to protect her.

Shit.
Where did that thought come from? Astrid was the most capable woman he knew. She needed protection like he needed a manicure. Still, this guy wasn't human. Maybe that's why she wasn't reacting to him breaking into the car. Or maybe she was hurt.
Double shit.

The man took a half-turning step back and raised his elbow into the perfect position to bust the window open. Luke closed the distance between them soundlessly and sidled up to the guy. He plastered a how-you-doing smile on his face. “Hey, need some help there, buddy? Lock your keys in the car?”

The other man startled and jumped back to face Luke. His eyes had no irises or whites. They were a void of continuous black. So much for pretending this would be a normal interaction.

Freaky Eye's lips furled. “This doesn't concern you,” he hissed. “Move along.”

Luke widened his stance. “Oh, but it definitely does.”

In addition to the bandages arched over his nose, deep purple rings shone beneath the guy's unsettling eyes. Definitely a broken nose. He stared at Luke for a heartbeat and sniffed the air. “What are you?” he asked. “I don't know your scent.”

Luke kept his face blank to keep from showing how creeped out he was. The guy was
scenting
him? “All you need to know is I'm the guy who's going to kick your ass.” He kept his eyes on the guy's hands. Normally he'd look into his opponent's eyes to catch the flicker of eye movement that betrayed an attack an instant before the body acted on the thought. But this freak had no eye movement. Just that dull, dark void with an occasional sinister glitter. That, combined with the whole sniffing thing, had Luke officially wigged out.

“Don't get involved in this, human. It will only get you killed.” Freaky bared his teeth in what was probably supposed to be a smile but looked more like an animal snarl.

Luke forced himself to ignore all the creepy stuff and focus on kicking the freak's ass. “We'll see.” He slowed down his breathing, and the dead calm that always flooded his body before a fight covered him like a familiar, favorite warm blanket. He offered a smile of his own. Something of Luke's feral nature must have shone through, because the guy blanched and stepped back.

Not waiting for his opponent to recover, Luke advanced and delivered a rising-knee kick. He aimed for the guy's already broken nose, but Freaky rotated his body in time and instead got the back of Luke's foot in his throat. The guy went down sputtering and coughing.

Luke didn't wait for him to get up, aiming another kick to the head, but Freaky was quick again and rolled out of the way. Instead of the face stomp he'd planned, Luke modified the arc of his heel and thumped the guy's collarbone with a solid downward kick. Bones crunched as Luke leaned in with all of his weight.

Freaky screeched and grabbed Luke's leg, struggling to wrench it off his body.

Luke's jaw clenched as he braced his other foot on the ground, adjusted his contact position slightly, and increased the pressure on his opponent's shoulder and neck. A satisfying pop sounded as Freaky's shoulder slipped out of its socket.
Try to fight with that, asshole.

The guy writhed on the floor beneath Luke's foot and then stilled, as if reaching inward to find the strength to pull himself together.

Luke wished him luck with that. A dislocated shoulder hurt like crazy, and the pain was almost impossible to press through. He knew from personal experience.

Freaky seemed to be making progress though, and Luke's brow furrowed as he increased pressure on the mangled shoulder. His opponent just hissed and turned his head to meet Luke's gaze head-on. A chilling smile stretched the man's thin lips.

The guy tightened his grip around Luke's calf, and alarm bells sounded in Luke's head. He quickly pulled back his leg, barely missing getting shredded by the claws elongating from Freaky's fingers.

What the fuck?
Talk about needing a manicure.

Luke had to scramble backward to avoid being stabbed. Everything happened much faster than any fight he had been in before. He'd used inhuman speed to track and attack opponents since he had escaped the lab as a teenager, but he hadn't fought someone who could match his agility. Luckily, the guy was still groggy, which gave Luke the advantage he needed. He quickly stomped on the guy's hand and used his other foot to aim another kick to Freaky's face.

The guy caught the foot and uttered a guttural groan as he pushed Luke back. Inhuman speed combined with abnormal strength. A trickle of fear slithered through Luke, and the hairs on his neck stood again. He quickly dismissed his reaction and centered himself into fight mode again, but by the time he found his footing, Freaky was standing. His left arm hung uselessly by his side, and the shoulder drooped low at an abnormal angle. Luke couldn't help but grin. The guy might be some kind of genetically modified monster, but so was Luke.

And this was the first time as an adult that he got to test his abnormal abilities with a matched opponent. Despite the fear still clinging to the edges of his mind, the soldier in him rose to the challenge. Worthy opponent or not, no need to give Freaky any time to recover. Luke stayed on the offensive and kept an eye on those claws. He attacked with a right uppercut to the chin, and when his opponent's head snapped back, Luke delivered a left cross to the guy's shoulder. For the finale, he followed up with an axe kick.

Freaky grunted and swiped at Luke with his vicious claws, almost shredding Luke's shirt. The guy tried to regain his balance, but the injured shoulder threw him off axis and he hit the ground like falling timber. His head bounced off the concrete floor, and his eyes rolled back into his head, finally displaying some white. Freaky was out for the count.

Luke let out a big breath of relief. That had been exhilarating but close. After his brother Donovan's suicide, the only thing that had kept Luke going was the need to avenge his twin brother. That had been almost twenty years ago, and now finally, after living on the street, military training, and then the FBI academy—where he'd been recruited into the clandestine DTU—he had the skills and the opportunity to make that happen. He was not going to get himself killed. Not when he was so close.

Freaky was still out, resting with his shoulder at an uncomfortable angle. Luke strode up to the car and peeked inside to see what the creature wanted so badly. The pale form of unconscious Astrid made Luke's heart skip a beat. He rubbed his chest and told himself the reaction had nothing to do with caring about the blond Amazon. It was only due to her being an important link to the lab that had held him and his brother captive so many years ago.

A quick check revealed all the doors locked, so Luke took a page from Freaky's game book and used his elbow to bust in one of the windows. He chose the passenger-side front window to spare Astrid from as much of the spraying glass as possible. Once inside, he checked her vitals, mostly by touch since the garage's fluorescent lights didn't penetrate to the depths of the back of the car. Her pulse was weaker than he'd like, but regular. She breathed unhindered. He patted her down, checking for any injuries that would explain the blood trail, and found her car keys in the front pocket of her jeans.

As he moved down her legs, his hands became coated in blood. Astrid's jeans were covered in it, as was the backseat. A strip of cloth had been tied around her leg like a tourniquet. He debated loosening the makeshift bandage, but she'd obviously tied it after the jeans got soaked, so it must have stopped her bleeding. Her steady breathing and pulse were good indications that she hadn't bled out.

He fished the car keys from Astrid's pocket and adjusted her position so she was resting more comfortably and more securely. Outside the car again, he spared Freaky another look. Ideally, he'd like to bring the unconscious creature with him so he could interrogate him, but he didn't have anything strong enough to tie Freaky up. If he wasn't working undercover, Luke would have had useful equipment with him. Anything less than regulation handcuffs would probably break as soon as Freaky woke up and decided to exert some force on his bindings. Luke couldn't risk that happening while driving, especially not with Astrid in the car.