Chapter 8
CHAPTER
EIGHT
Sylvara hoped her cheeks didn’t look as warm as they felt. Thankfully, they’d arrived at night into the realm. With any luck, Rolf wouldn’t notice her flushed face. How embarrassing to be so attracted to the draugr. To a vampire. By the fates, what was she doing?
When she’d walked away from him before, she’d been fine.
At first. But she must have taken a few steps too far because she’d felt such heat that she’d feared exploding in a supernova of pleasure, something she never wanted to experience again.
Rapture was for orgasms, the joy in a kill, the perfect mead, or a terrific thriller.
Not from climaxing in front of the enemy.
Rolf’s kisses had been bad enough. If he hadn’t pulled back, she might have gotten forceful. Not that she’d have had to do much persuading. The fanger had a big cock she’d felt all too easily through his trousers. He’d been into her, for sure.
But that had occurred before she’d stepped too far away from him. The spell binding them together was awful, the worst thing she’d ever experienced.
Sylvara hated losing control. She liked sex when she decided on it. She chose her lovers. She determined when and where and how. A little physical release never hurt a warrior in her prime.
Losing herself in another had never been a priority or even anything she wanted as more than an exercise to keep her body in top shape. It was like a pleasure stretch. Nothing too special, and nothing she couldn’t go without.
To be so drawn to Rolf of the Night Bloode? Not so shocking, unfortunately. The guy was hot as fuck and just her type. An asshole with a great body. But she found it unwelcome, to say the least.
And the dickhead didn’t seem to feel any of it. He’d joined her with the light elves, looking slightly annoyed and amused with the world, as he always did.
She had to make sure they stayed close but not too close. She didn’t ever want to experience that type of painful pleasure ever again. Especially because if he realized what she’d felt, he’d torture her by staying just out of reach, the bastard.
Damn it. She shouldn’t even be here working alongside a vampire in fae lands. She should be working with Odin or Freyja battling against the troll army and the giants. Or tracking down Jormungandr and handing him over to his father, to get this hated debt off her shoulders.
Gah. It wasn’t even her debt.
“I hate Loki,” she muttered as they walked into the forest getting darker and colder with each step. Despite the humid summer they’d left behind in Seattle, in the White Winter lands, summer was a temperate affair, more like a Pacific Northwest fall.
A glance at Rolf showed him unaffected by the growing cold. Normally, Sylvara wouldn’t mind either. Her lightning could heat her up fast enough. But this cold was magical in nature, and she couldn’t help a shiver.
Regrettably, Sylvara’s informant was hiding out in the Forbidden Forest. The sooner she tracked the tricky bitch down, the sooner she could help Loki reunite with his annoying family and cough up a legendary Bloode Stone. Then bam. No more vampires.
Sylvara would return to her job fighting Norse deities with her asshole sisters.
Gods love them, but she found her fellow valkyries annoying, funny, and enjoyable all at the same time.
A conundrum, especially since she wasn’t an official valkyrie anyway.
Just an honorary one thanks to her Aunt Skuld and Hlokk, a beast of a warrior.
If left to her other relatives, Sylvara would probably be a volva or a prophet out in the mundane world, left to wander the northern lands or the pocket realms in the arctic, away from humanity.
“Why do you hate Loki?” Rolf murmured into her ear.
She hadn’t felt him come closer and nearly took his head off with her ax.
“That is one fine weapon.” He pushed the blade away from his head. “Who made it?”
“A dwarf.”
“Obviously. I mean, with that kind of craftsmanship, it had to be done by an expert. Who was it?”
“Like you’d know if I told you.”
“I might. I spent a few decades in Nidavellir several centuries ago. I visit now and then.”
She doubted that. “Yeah, right. They barely tolerated me, and I earned my ax. They hate outsiders.”
“Well, yeah. And maybe they didn’t know I had borrowed some of their finest ale when last I visited. But I left an IOU.”
She snickered. “Who’d you steal that from?” Depending on what dwarf he’d robbed, he might have a bounty on his head in Nidavellir, the home of the dwarves.
“Fisil Orebrew.”
“He’s a putz but a wizard with ale.”
“Truly. And your ax maker? Wait. Let me guess…” He studied the ax on her shoulder. Moonlight speared through the overhead canopy and lit the sharp blade with a silvery glow. “Hmm. That’s a hell of a weapon. I’m thinking a Jadeshield or an Opalblade made it for you.”
“Not bad guesses.” Both dwarf houses were known for their craft with weaponry. But the detail in the magic had been crafted by—
“No. A Stonegrip did that. Am I right?”
“Not bad. Yes. Gramnor Stonegrip crafted this beauty nearly a thousand years ago.”
He studied her.
“What?”
“Huh. I didn’t think you were that old.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not. The weapon is. He made it for my aunt originally. But she never collected it and gave it to me.”
“Oh. Nice.” He kept looking at her.
“What now?” she growled.
“How old are you? Want me to guess?” His eyes flashed in the moonlight, shards of red pulsing in the black depths.
“Yes, that’s what I want, Rolf. To have a lengthy, inane conversation with the most annoying member of the Night Bloode.”
“Should I be flattered you’re trying so hard not to want me?
” He batted his lashes at her. She sighed, but he talked over her.
“Because if you really knew us, you’d know I’m the smartest and best looking.
Best in bed too.” He smirked. “If you want annoying, I’d go with Orion.
He’s big and burly and is the equivalent of a vampire gym bro. ”
The image conjured a smile. “Oh?”
Rolf grinned. “Yeah. Khent’s probably my best friend. But he’s a reaper, and they’re prone to arrogance. I let him think he’s better than me to keep the peace, though.”
“How kind of you.”
Warming up to his topic, he added, “I don’t mind Varu.
You met him when he tried to take off your head.
He’s pretty strong and no-nonsense. But he’s mellowed out since mating, which is so disappointing.
” He sighed. “Kraft isn’t bad. Mostly because he changes into a wolf, like me.
But not like me, because his wolf is puny and kind of ugly. ”
“I’m sure.”
With a bad British accent, he added, “Our revenant is a nice enough bloke.” Fortunately, he reverted back to his normal voice. “Duncan mated a human who turned out to be our Bloode Witch. So I guess that’s okay.”
“I bet he’s relieved you approve.”
Rolf nodded, her sarcasm going right over his head.
“I know. Hmm. Have I missed anyone?” He counted on his fingers.
“Orion, Khent, Varu, Kraft, and Duncan. Nope. That’s all of them.
But if we’re counting Night Bloode members—excluding Hecate and her bitch boy, Mormo—you’d have to include all the mates and Onvyr.
” He snorted. “Females living with vampires. It’s insanity.
And our non-mate member is fae. A dusk elf.
” Rolf nodded with approval. “He’s all kinds of fucked up. ”
“Oh? I don’t think I met him.” She’d done plenty of scouting on the Night Bloode since being ordered by Loki to work with Rolf.
But the male dusk elf had been tough to track down.
“I have seen Faraine, the other dusk elf. She’s mated to Varu?
” The gray woman was incredibly beautiful, and decidedly not human.
“Yep. She wanted me. I almost gave her a shot, because she’s pretty and magical.” He looked at her. “But not as scorching as you, sweetums.”
“I’m not afraid to behead you.”
“That won’t kill me.”
“Good.” She smiled wide. “Because a beheading is way too boring and quick for a pain in the ass like yourself.”
“You are so sweet to me.”
“I mean, I could defang, declaw, dismember, or disembowel you. Or hey, how about ripping your spine out while you watch?”
“Well, sounds good but a little awkward. Because if I’m staring ahead of me and you rip out my spine, it’ll be tough to turn my head around to see it.” He laughed way too loudly. “But you should totally try it.”
“Like, right now?” She stopped moving to stare at him. She didn’t know why, but she felt like laughing more than she felt like striking him. What was it about this vampire that amused her so much? Because he really did irritate her.
Before she could reason it out, he struck, which shouldn’t have surprised her but did.
In the next breath, he had her over his shoulder, running so fast their surroundings blurred.
“Put me down, damn it.”
He finally stopped moving and set her on her feet, staring behind them at some threat growing closer.
The sound of trees cracking and animals shrieking was soon smothered by a profound silence.
Sylvara looked around, finding the creeping darkness and sudden quiet a definite threat.
“I think we found the Forbidden Forest,” she said quietly, holding her ax, ready to attack whatever drew closer.
“And I think whatever was chasing us found us.” He launched himself up at a mass of pissed off lindworms.
The giant serpents, a good twenty feet in length and as broad as a baby troll, usually lived in magical forests. Unfortunately, this particular type had wings. And—
“Duck,” he yelled.
She rolled away. Just in time, as a blast of fire hit where she’d been standing.
Just peachy. Apparently, these lindworms had been tainted by some elemental magic. Because normal lindworms didn’t breathe fire or spark electricity.
And the ones bearing down on her were doing both.