Chapter Twenty-Three #2
‘Thank you for coming, Stacy,’ he said, voice a soft whisper.
‘Of course. I’m overdressed.’
Finally, that smirk I knew and loved so well appeared. ‘We can rectify that later.’
‘You look good in shorts,’ I said, admiring the well-defined thigh muscles that the shorts cut across.
‘You look good in anything,’ he replied smoothly, ‘and nothing.’ Then his voice grew brusque. ‘Now that you’re here, it’s time to get the show on the road.’ He gave me a pointed look. ‘Listen to Loki, okay?’
Loki’s mind brushed against mine. Krieg will tell you anything you need to know through me, the bird explained.
The full sentences of his mind speech still took me aback.
Robbie was a piper and could probably speak directly into my mind if I lowered my mental shields, but now didn’t feel like the time to experiment with that, and I had my mind locked down tight.
Loki was able to talk to me because our bond superseded my mental defences.
Okay, I responded. Thank you bud.
‘Kaerasta,’ Robbie said loudly to me, and the whole place fell shockingly silent.
He says to call him Kaerasti, Loki instructed.
‘Kaerasti,’ I replied, and Robbie’s eyes twinkled as gasps rippled from the other scantily clad attendees.
‘The den welcomes you. Take in its warmth and respite.’ He gestured to the fire.
I parroted the words Loki fed to me. ‘I am grateful for the warmth and respite. I will protect it for all to enjoy.’
Robbie drew his sword from his side and held it out to me. As instructed, I pricked my finger on the blade, which was so sharp that blood instantly welled at the tiniest pressure. Then I squeezed a drop of blood directly into the flames.
Be ready, Loki murmured, which seemed like a very unhelpful direction indeed.
Because it felt right, I moved to stand next to Robbie – not in front of him as a supplicant, but next to him as a partner. Then I placed both hands on the mace’s shaft, legs akimbo, stance ready to fight.
‘That’s my mace!’ Fuck You said as she stormed over.
‘Oh hey, Fuck You. How are you doing?’ I gave her a wide smile.
She let out an inarticulate scream, drew a sword, and swung at me. Robbie’s own sword moved before I even started to lower the mace. I could have used my magic, but that felt like cheating.
Robbie’s sword clashed with hers in a shriek of steel and sparks as he stepped forward to avenge my honour.
It was kind of nice having someone fight for me like that, and heat ran through my veins as I watched his muscles bunch and roll as he fought for me.
Now was not the time to get horny, yet here I was.
‘Enough Edda!’ Robbie barked, voice cracking through the gathering like a whip.
The much more boringly named Edda was past reason. Her blue eyes were fixed on me and brimming with malice as she ducked under his blade and lunged for me. The mace – her mace – thrummed in my hands and I swung at her in a perfect arc meant to disarm, not kill.
It was her turn to block, and she did so while snarling, spittle flying, ‘You don’t belong here, bitch!’
‘You’re not the first to throw that particular epithet at me today,’ I muttered.
She kicked, catching me hard in the ribs. Pain blossomed across my side, but before I could recover, Robbie was there, moving like liquid shadow. He grabbed her wrist mid-swing and twisted until her sword clattered to the flagstones.
‘One more move …’ he warned.
She spat in his face. ‘You’ve gone soft. Letting humans into our den—’
Robbie’s jaw flexed, eyes flashing molten mercury. The fire behind him roared, reflecting in the taut lines of his muscles.
‘You dare insult my mate before the den?’ he growled.
‘Mate?’ she hissed, laughter bubbling up sharp and ugly. She looked at me with utter disdain, her mouth turned down in a sneer. ‘She’s your plaything. You’ll toss her away when you’re done, and then I’ll—’
Robbie moved. His face was a blank mask as his sword arced towards her. She started to raise her sword but it was too late. Fixated on me, she had missed the beginning of his swing.
His sword bit into her throat, slicing through the skin like it was paper. Red-hot blood welled, yet he had sliced her with an insane amount of skill and care, and it became clear that the wound was shallow, not fatal.
Edda’s sword clanged to the ground as her hands flew in shock to scrabble at her neck, her eyes bulging.
‘The mark across your throat will heal and scar. And if you raise a hand to my mate again, I will make the slice across your throat permanent. I only show such mercy,’ Robbie said mildly, ‘because I entertained the idea of mating with you once, and I know this transition has been painful for you.’
Robbie picked up Edda’s fallen sword and passed it to me. ‘Recompense for the insult given. You are within your rights to kill her if you see fit.’
I took the sword automatically with my free hand, but my mind was blank as I stared at the beautiful blond Amazonian woman he had apparently cast aside for me.
The thought of her touching him, like I did, was enough to make me see red.
I raised the sword and took a step towards her as Robbie turned to face me.
He read the fury and jealousy there, moved closer, then stepped around the raised sword and mace like they were nothing to him.
Turning his back on Edda as if she wasn’t a threat at all, he lowered his head to my ear and murmured for me alone, ‘You are entitled to take her life, but I know you, Stacy, and it will haunt you. Remember, only you have ever touched my tusks. Only ever you, Inspector. She is nothing to me. You are everything.’
The whispered words – and yes, the title – slapped some sense into me. Anger cooled enough to be pushed down fully. I lowered my weapons and set them down. Robbie stepped closer still. ‘So fierce, so righteous,’ he said without modulating his voice, not trying to hide the pride he had in me.
Another female ogre was pulling Edda up and away from Robbie and me. It was a smart move, but the rage had gone. Robbie was right: Edda deserved a second chance; she was battling with losing Robbie, and if our roles had been reversed, I’d want to kill her too.
Shall I shit on her? Loki offered, making me smile despite myself.
‘No,’ I said aloud. ‘Go and keep making friends with the crows. They’re curious about you.’
As requested, Loki flew from my shoulder towards the murder of crows, which rose like a dark shadow to hover in the air and greet him.
He was a white dot among all the black feathers, far smaller and more delicate than the corvids.
Yet it was clear from their gentle movements and soft caws that the crows were happy to see my little friend.
Around us, the ogres burst into whispers, looking first at the flocking murder, then at me.
‘What?’ I asked Robbie, frowning. ‘What did I miss?’
He smiled with satisfaction. ‘You commanded Loki, and he obeyed you – clearly understood you.’
‘So?’
‘So they are seeing that you can speak to birds like I can. Another sign that we are meant to be – that we are destined for each other, Inspector.’ His tone was mild, but his eyes were twinkling. Despite Edda’s attack, he was enjoying himself.
Hanlon approached with a tray of champagne flutes. Not what I’d expected, though I wasn’t sure what I’d expected. Perhaps mead in some horns, Viking style.
Hanlon held the tray out to me in such a way that it would be natural to take the glass in my left hand. I sent him a flat look as I reached out to take a flute in my right instead. Hanlon grinned as I took the drink with my correct hand.
I held the glass loosely but looked at Robbie. I couldn’t drink until he had. ‘I’m thirsty, Robbie. Do your thing.’
Robbie grinned broadly at me too. Oh good, I was amusing everyone today. He took a glass in his right hand. The small flute looked dwarfed in his large hand, and the thought caused me to remember how good he was with those thick fingers of his.
Robbie held the drink aloft. ‘Skál!’ he called, and then he sipped from the glass as everyone repeated the phrase back at him.
I waited until he had swallowed before I asked, ‘Can I drink now?’
‘To your heart’s content,’ he assured me. ‘No food until we do the same thing with some meat.’
‘Meat is it?’ And I let my eyes slide down his body and linger on his shorts.
He cleared his throat. ‘Behave yourself, kaerasta. These shorts hide nothing.’
‘I’d noticed,’ I purred, making him groan again.
‘Inspector, play nicely.’ But it was more an entreaty than a command.
I sipped my champagne and grinned. This whole thing was nowhere near as bad as I’d feared. Sure, Edda’d had her throat sliced, but only a little. Everyone was still living and breathing, and I had a glass of champagne with a magnificent view. Things were looking up.