Viking Warrior Rebel (5 page)

There was that chest tweak again. He rubbed the skin above his heart. Something he ate must have given him heartburn.

He stepped into the silver SUV and started it. His first priority was to keep Astrid alive, to get her to medical care before any of Freaky's friends showed up. If that involved leaving a potential source of information unsecured, so be it. Life was full of bitter choices.

He put the car in Drive and took off toward the hotel.

* * *

Luke parked as close to the hotel's service elevator as he could. By some stroke of luck, he managed to get unconscious Astrid up to his floor and in his room without running into anyone. He'd considered taking her to the emergency room, but he preferred not having his undercover name in any official records, not even on ER intake forms. Showing up at a clinic with a woman who'd been stabbed would lead to all kinds of questions and probably a visit from more than one law enforcement officer. Luke had field medic training. If her injuries weren't too severe, he'd save time and paperwork by taking care of her himself.

He grabbed a towel from the bathroom and spread it on the bed before lowering Astrid onto it. He wouldn't know the extent of her injuries until he removed her clothes. Feeling slightly uneasy about undressing her while she was unconscious, he forced his mind into clinical mode and scanned her exposed skin for wounds as he peeled off her jacket, some kind of knife harness, and her T-shirt. He found plenty of bruises on her upper body and a knife injury on her left forearm. It appeared only superficial, so he moved lower.

The fabric tied around her thigh was soaked, but no new blood trickled through as he loosened it. He couldn't get the jeans to cooperate. He finally reached for his utility tool and cut through the denim so he wouldn't aggravate her injury more than necessary. Then he returned to the bathroom for soap and to fill the ice bucket with warm water. As he cleaned the injury with a soft washcloth, he checked for infection. The skin around the gash was red and irritated, but there was no discolored discharge.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Luke continued wiping Astrid clean of blood. He didn't find any other injuries except for a few minor abrasions on her legs. They would heal on their own. In the first aid kit that he never traveled without—once a Marine, always a Marine—he found a suture-and-needle package. After irrigating the gash with alcohol, he broke the sterile package and retrieved the pre-threaded needle. He applied small, precise stitches to close the wound. She'd hopefully not have too much of a scar. Stitching up your own injury sucked balls big time and hurt too much to pay attention to scarring, which was why part of his shoulder looked like Frankenstein had stitched it together.

He cut the last piece of suture and put some antibacterial gel on her wound before placing a large sterile dressing to stop the small trickle of blood his stitches had caused. Astrid's heart rate and breathing were still steady, even if he wished her pulse was a little stronger. He tucked her under the covers and gathered the bloody towel, jeans, scarf, and discarded medical supplies. The metal trash can seemed like the perfect fireproof receptacle, so he went out on the balcony to burn it all. No reason to leave DNA evidence behind, although he kept one small blood-soaked square of the scarf. He'd run a match search through some of the FBI's databases.

He'd just returned inside when his work cell phone rang. A quick glance on the display revealed it was Special Agent in Charge Whalert. Luke hesitated. He hadn't reported in for weeks and had known eventually the boss would track him down. He'd just hoped the guy would have so much on his plate that Luke would have a little longer before he had to explain being out of touch. The phone stopped ringing but immediately started again. Whalert again. As impossible as Luke knew it was, this time the ringtone seemed more insistent.

Luke took a deep breath before stepping out onto the balcony again. He hit the button on the phone that would connect him with his probably very irate boss. Before he had a chance to even squeeze out his name, Whalert was barking in his ear.

“What the hell, Hager? Almost a month and you don't check in?” Whalert's voice was so loud that Luke wouldn't be surprised if Astrid could hear the guy, despite the patio door and her unconscious state. Yep, definitely pissed off.

Luke's ears rang from hearing his real name at such a loud volume. “In my defense, I've been a little busy running a nightclub while also handling my mission and maintaining cover.”

“Do we really need to have the talk about why you need to follow procedures? We have some leeway within the DTU since we're mostly off radar, but even I demand some sort of protocol.”

Luke felt like a little kid being reprimanded. His body was actually squirming. He reminded himself that it'd been some time since he hit puberty, and he manned up. “Procedure or no procedure, have I ever let you down before?” When in the wrong, going on the defensive usually worked.

Some grumbling traveled down the line. Luke couldn't make out all the words, but one was definitely “asshole.” He didn't mind not hearing the rest.

“What progress have you made?” Whalert asked in an almost normal tone of voice.

“I've made contact with the target.”

“Yeah, Broden shared that in his report. You know, those things most agents fill out on a regular basis.”

Fuck Broden and his reports. Why did he have to be such a brownnose?
“That's correct. We saw her at dinner last night and I spoke with her, but I had continued contact with her tonight.” He had to give his boss something but would keep the details to himself. Until Luke could figure out exactly what Astrid was up to, there was no reason to involve people higher up the chain of command. The longer someone sat behind a desk, the more complicated they tended to make things.

“What kind of contact?”

“I followed her tonight and pretended a chance meeting.” That wasn't exactly a lie. Even if Astrid was unaware of his presence in the parking garage, they had kind of met.

“You don't think she'll find that suspicious?”

“Not at all. She has no clue I followed her.” The only full truth he'd said during this conversation.

His boss chuckled. “You've already managed to get her into bed, haven't you?”

Luke glanced at Astrid asleep under his covers. “Something like that.” He ignored the stab of guilty conscience and refused to explore if it was because he was misleading Astrid or his boss. “We've flirted.”

Another chuckle traveled down the line. “I just bet you have. I've seen how you flirt.”

Luke pushed down the irritation he felt at his boss' insinuation. He wasn't that bad. Women found him attractive, but that didn't mean he jumped into bed with everyone who gave him a clear signal. Most of them maybe, but not all of them. “Let's move on,” he muttered.

“I understand, no kiss and tell. I like that about you.” Another chuckle. “Okay, down to business then. Have you set up a meeting with Kraus?”

“Yes, but he's not available until two days from now.” Luke was meeting with the German businessman under the pretense of offering money-laundering services through the nightclub. In reality, he wanted to check if the man had a connection with the covert government labs. Before the North Dakota lab closed down, Kraus had met with the head scientist of the facility. It had taken weeks to set up the meeting. “I'm not sure if he'll take me up on my offer though. He seems a little skittish.”

“Most criminals turn paranoid a few years into their careers. And with good reason.” Whalert sighed. “I'm actually calling for more reasons than just finding out why the hell I haven't heard from you.”
Uh-oh.
Luke had heard that tone of voice before. It always delivered bad news. He braced himself for what was coming. “There's been some chatter in cyberspace,” his boss continued. The bureau monitored several regions of cyberspace, including the off-the-grid corners that were usually referred to as the Darknet. Conversations that seemed related to the covert labs often popped up, but so far DTU hadn't been able to pinpoint who was taking part in the discussions.

“What can you tell me?” Luke asked. The information gathered was often sensitive enough that only people several security levels above him were allowed access.

“I don't know much.” Whalert sounded apologetic. “But there is a lot of talk about a ‘live package' arriving.”

Luke sighed. “That could mean anything.”

“I know, but in this case we think it has something to do with a person or persons. Maybe someone with sensitive information.”

“Arriving where?”

“That's the problem.” It was his boss's turn to sigh. “We don't know the location. Hell, we don't even know if this person is coming voluntarily or has somehow been coerced.”

Luke's intuition tingled, and cold tendrils trailed across his scalp. He glanced at Astrid through the glass door. Somehow she was involved in this. What the fuck had she gotten herself into?

The first thing Astrid noticed as she fought to wake up was that a weight around her waist had her trapped. She opened her eyes and saw a male arm draped over her middle. A solid, warm body spooned her from behind.

Holy Mother of Valkyries, she had no memory of going to bed with anyone. Who was he? Light-headed and disoriented, she tried to remember the events that had led to this situation. Her head throbbed as if she had a hangover, but she didn't remember drinking alcohol. Slowly she lifted the arm trapping her and slipped out from underneath it and the covers.

Once safely out of the bed, she turned and found Luke Holden looking at her, leaning on his elbow, head propped up with his palm. His hair was tousled and his smile sleepy as he stared at her. “Hey,” he said, his voice husky.

The vision of maleness melted her insides, and hearing that throaty voice pulled at something in her chest. Lounging on top of the covers in a gray T-shirt and black boxer briefs that hugged his assets tightly, he was pretty much irresistible. Wait, on top of the covers?

“What?” she croaked and looked down to see if she was naked. She had on both bra and panties. Maybe they hadn't slept together.

Yeah, right. As if she would get into bed with Holden and keep from jumping him. The man was sex incarnate.

As if he knew what she was thinking, he grinned.

She swallowed a few times to get her throat to work. “What's going on?” she managed to squeeze out, marginally clearer.

Holden's gaze dipped low and then slowly traveled upward before meeting her eyes again. Heat flashed in his gray eyes and his pupils dilated.

Her nipples tightened in response to his blatant appreciation, and she swore under her breath. She crossed her arms to hide the evidence of her attraction. How was she supposed to stay away from this man when her body didn't listen to her brain? She tossed her hair and then stumbled when the gesture made her dizzy.

Holden shot up from the bed and caught her before she did a face-plant. He put his arm around her shoulders, supporting her as he gently lowered her to sit on the bed. “Easy there, hothead,” he mumbled, his lips buried in her hair. “You lost a lot of blood last night. For a while there, I wasn't sure you'd wake up.” His Adam's apple trembled as he swallowed.

“I was hurt?” Astrid blinked several times to clear the white spots dancing in front of her eyes. Disjointed memories flittered through her mind. She'd fought wolverines in a parking garage. “They attacked me,” she mumbled, enjoying the heat radiating off his body.

She couldn't help herself. She snuggled closer into his embrace. The small shift of her legs made her wince. The skin on the inside of her thigh throbbed and pulled. She angled her leg and looked closer. A neat row of sutures held a knife gash together. Had she gone to the hospital? But why wasn't she still there? “Did you stitch me up?”

Holden slid down on the floor and kneeled in front of her. Gently, he traced the stitches with his fingertip. “Shit, Astrid, you almost bled out. I didn't know if I had time to get you to an ER, and the hotel was closer. I've had some medical training, so when I saw that your bleeding had slowed, I took care of it myself.”

She swallowed loudly. Who the hell traveled around with a suture kit? Who exactly was Holden? The vision of him kneeling between her thighs distracted her from her thoughts. More than just the wound throbbed now. Her inner warrior responded to the heightened emotions. Astrid clamped down on their connection, willing the berserker to calm down and resume its slumber. The beast inside her had other ideas though.

Mine
, it whispered in her mind.

Astrid jerked.
What the hell?
The berserker had never spoken to her before.

Holden looked up. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“You didn't.” She forced a mental command through the connection with her berserker, and finally the beast settled down. “I'm ticklish,” she said to Holden. Hopefully he wouldn't notice her internal struggle.

She felt beads of sweat breaking out on her forehead. Her blood loss must be why she imagined her inner warrior speaking to her. The weakened state had caused some sort of hallucination. She cleared her throat. “How did you find me?”

He looked away and withdrew his hand from her thigh. “You were in the back of your car in the train-station parking garage. At first I thought—” He rubbed his face. “You were unconscious.”

“No, not
where
did you find me. How?” She narrowed her eyes.

His gaze darted to hers before flitting away again. “I followed you,” he mumbled.

Bullshit.
She'd have noticed if anyone followed her down from the mountains. Those twisty roads would have shown someone in pursuit immediately. Even if she'd been upset, she'd have known to check for someone tailing her.

Naya didn't usually talk about her clients or their security plans, but she'd once let it slip that Holden liked high technology and spy equipment. His business often crossed over to the shadier side of the law, and he needed to keep himself and his club patrons safe. Astrid would bet a fair amount of money that he had trackers in his little arsenal of gadgets and had placed one on her car. Which would explain the trackers she'd often found on her car back in Pine Rapids. But that was something they could discuss later, when she'd also get the details about his “medical training.” Right now, she needed to find out how much he'd figured out about the wolverines.

She touched the stitches, and his gaze returned to the wound as if pulled by magic. Astrid deliberately trailed her fingers higher up her leg.

His Adam's apple wobbled.

She allowed a small smile of victory to grace her lips. So, she wasn't the only one affected by this near-naked proximity. “These look great. I'll probably only have a small scar.” She remembered making a tourniquet with her scarf because the wolverine had nicked her femoral artery. Her rapid healing abilities had fixed the damage before she bled out, just as she'd hoped. But that wound wouldn't have closed without Holden's stitches.

Did Holden notice that the injury looked more healed than it should for just one day? She looked up and caught him scrutinizing her face, as if searching for a sign of something.

Holden rocked back on his heels and stood. He walked over to the minibar and pulled out a bottle of orange juice, which he threw to her. She caught it before it bounced on the bed. The room was almost identical to her own. She'd checked out before she'd gone to pick up Scott and stashed all her weapons in a hidden compartment in her car. Hopefully, they were still there.

“Drink,” he said without looking at her. “I got some fluids in you during the night, but you need more.” He walked toward the adjoining bathroom. “I'm grabbing a shower, and then we'll talk.”

She watched his retreating back while hazily remembering someone rousing her and forcing her to drink. She'd wanted to sleep, but that someone had nudged and cajoled until she'd swallowed the liquids. The voice had whispered endearments and called her things like “sweetie” and “darling.” Holden's voice, she now realized.

The shower turned on in the bathroom. Astrid scooted up in the bed and reclined against the headboard. Cracking the juice bottle open, she lifted it to her lips while deep in thought. This was going to be complicated and messy.

By the time Holden sauntered out of the bathroom with a fluffy, white towel draped around his waist, Astrid had finished the juice and crawled back under the covers. She couldn't find her clothes and wanted a shield between all that maleness and her own semi-nakedness.

Holden's towel hung low on his hips, threatening to fall down at any minute as he crossed the room to dig through a small carry-on case. She both hoped and dreaded that gravity would win. He fished out some underwear and another T-shirt. This one was dark blue. It would make his eyes look like the ocean at dusk. She knew, because he'd worn a shirt the same color the night they'd… Best not to go there with just the two of them in a room with a bed.

Holden grabbed a pair of jeans and returned to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Less than a minute later, he returned fully dressed except for bare feet. Even though he was fully clothed, he still exuded sex as he walked toward her. Her mind flashed back to what it had been like to have the fullness of that hard body pressed against her. That one night in the club when she'd listened to what her body wanted. Holden. Hard. Inside her.

It had been fantastic.

So fantastic she hadn't been able to stop thinking about it for months. That scared the crap out of her. She forced the carnal thoughts away and watched him as he pulled up a chair beside the bed. “Okay,” he said, sitting down in the chair. “Tell me what the hell is going on. What is that creature I saw in the parking garage?”

Freya's cats. One of the wolverines must have come back for her. How was she going to spin this? She'd never had to explain to a regular person that weird creatures walked among them, able to kill them with a single blow. It wasn't knowledge people would take well. How badly would Holden freak out?

Possible explanations for the wolverine's claws and black-void eyes flittered through her mind. None of them was plausible. “What creature?”

Holden leaned forward, bracing himself with his elbows against his knees. “Don't play dumb with me. You know exactly what I am talking about.”

She wasn't playing dumb. “I really don't.” She was stalling.

He laced his fingers together, looked down at the floor, and sighed heavily. “Astrid,” he growled. “I don't have time for this.” He looked up and the storm of emotions swirling in his eyes made her breath catch. “He almost killed you.” He blinked, schooling his features into a familiar blank expression. The professional blandness Holden had greeted her with only a few days after they'd had the most intense sex she'd experienced had hurt more than she'd ever admit. She should have expected it, considering he'd disappeared in the middle of the night. She'd woken up in an empty bed in a strange, empty apartment. That blank look on Holden's face had hurt then, and it did now.

She couldn't afford to go there. She inhaled deeply and dropped her shoulders as she breathed out. “Fine, what do you want to know?” After all, the man had probably saved her life. The least she could do was to tell him about the creatures he'd fought to keep her alive. No matter how badly he'd freak out.

Her stomach growled loudly.

Holden shot her a look and stood. “You need food.” He walked over to the dresser and grabbed a binder. Returning to the chair, he handed it to her as he sat down again. “Room service menu is on page ten.”

Astrid held the folder in her lap but didn't open it. “We could just go out for something.” Eating a meal while still in bed—and with him sitting beside her—would be too intimate. And going out would give her more time to figure out what to tell him.

He shook his head. “Nope, we'll eat here. You need some food in you now.” He tapped the folder. “Pick what you want.”

She sighed but did what he asked. While he used the phone on the bedside table to call in her order of a double burger and fries, she studied his profile. He'd shaved while in the bathroom. The smooth skin of his jaw had a small nick just below the earlobe. She wanted to touch the spot to soothe it and had to curl her fingers to stop from reaching out. The berserker stirred again, but Astrid quickly lulled it back into sleep. Her attraction to Holden was freaky.

When she and Holden had hooked up all those months ago, her inner warrior had been enthusiastic. More so than it usually was when Astrid had sex with someone. She'd thought it was because she'd overindulged a little when she fed off the sexual energy from the people on the dance floor. But could it be that the berserker wanted Holden?

Nonsense. Astrid didn't even like the man.

Unaware of her mental analysis of their sexual history, or more accurately their one night together, Holden added his own food selection to their order and hung up. “Talk,” he demanded and sat back down in the chair.

She didn't know where to start. “How about you ask me what you want to know, and I'll see if I can answer?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Okay. What is that creature I saw in the parking garage, and why was it trying to kill you?”

Astrid's mind spun. She couldn't endanger her warrior brothers and sisters, but she could probably spin the truth into something palatable for Holden. “I don't know exactly what those creatures are, but I call them wolverines.”

A tic pulsed in his jaws. “You're using the plural. There are more of these freaks?”

“I've seen a few.” As in, she used to see them all the time when she went on patrol outside the fortress. Then they disappeared for a while but came back in smaller numbers. And now they seemed to have remarkable healing ability and new acrobatic skills. Like they were wolverines, version 2.0. She really needed to get in touch with the warriors back home so she could tell them.

Without somehow revealing that she'd lost Scott.

She was so screwed.

Holden sighed, got up, and retrieved another bottle of juice from the minibar. He handed it to her without comment and sat back down. This one was cranberry. “Look, I get that there are loads of information you don't want to share. But can we cut the crap? Just share what you know.”

Astrid cracked the juice bottle open. “I am sharing.” She took a swig of the bright-red liquid, hoping she wouldn't spill any on the nice white sheets. How had Holden kept her from bleeding all over the linens? “Just ask me what you want to know.” That way she could censor each chunk of information more easily, and maybe his questions would show a pattern. Holden definitely had an agenda. His body betrayed him. He was too tense, too probing. This felt more like a debriefing than just him wanting to know about the creature he'd fought. Why would a nightclub owner interrogate her?