Dreams of a Dark Warrior
Page 6

Aidan. With his heart-stopping smile and big, possessive hands. Though she longed to see her Viking in any reincarnation, she'd decided that he might actual y live a ful life if he never found her.
Nix sighed. "Have you truly given up all hope of finding a way to be with him?"
Regin glanced over at her, trying not to feel even a sliver of hope. "Any reason not to give up?"
"I believe my advice to you was 'Go find and bang your berserker.'"
"Huh. well , see, I tried that, and it didn't quite work out for me." The last four times! "I just can't ... I'm not doing it again." The guilt got worse with each reincarnation. She was his doom, might as well deal the deathblow herself.
Aidan had been sword-struck in his first life, poisoned in his second, crushed during a shipwreck in his third. In his fourth, he'd been shot. all directly after she and his reincarnation had made love for the first time.
"Unless you can tell me things might be different this time?" Regin added. Damn, could she sound more desperate? But Nix helped other immortals with things like this. Why not me?
"What would you do to be with him, hmm? What would you sacrifice?"
"To break this curse, I would do just about any-thing."
"Just about?" After long, tense moments, Nix said, "I have no resolution to tell you." She couldn't foresee everything, wasn't all-knowing. Instead, she'd been dubbed the Ever-Knowing, because her visions had appeared without fail for three mil ennia.
"No resolution?" She hadn't expected Nix to pony up the answer to a thousand-year-old curse before Regin ran her next red light, but a crumb of hope would've been nice.
"No matter," Nix said. "You must find something to occupy yourself. There's more to life than destroying vampires."
"Right. Like destroying evil cannibal gods with Lucia," Regin said, proud of her segue.
"Always back to Lucia. You're exceedingly loyal to all your friends-even to your own detriment."
"Whatever. Loyalty's not a bad thing."
"It is when you leave heaven for it. It is when you have nothing to show for it. For instance, your some-some meter is reading empty. What about that nice leopard-shifter pack that wanted to date you? The benefits of a variety pack of males cannot be overstated."
If the rest of her sisters-or, gods forbid, her witch buddies-found out Regin hadn't been laid in nearly two hundred years, she'd never live it down. But like some stupid, sappy tool, she stayed faithful to Aidan and his reincarnates.
"Are you happy, Regin?"
She gave Nix the look her question deserved. "I'm the prankster, remember? The happy-go-lucky one.
Ask anyone-they'l tell you I'm the cheeriest Valkyrie." She studied Nix's expression, this time noticing the shadows under her sister's eyes. "Why? Are you happy? You seem tired all the time." She didn't mention Nix's shrieking fits or disappearances, the bizarre eccentricities that only grew worse.
"I'm actively involved in steering the lives of thousands of beings. Which directly affects hundreds of thousands, which indirectly affects mil ions, with a ripple effect reaching bil ions. If someone said, 'It ain't easy being Nixie,' I wouldn't cal him a liar."
Regin never real y thought about the pressure Nix might be under. If the bat made her happy and calmed her, then ... Welcome to the family, Bertil.
In a prickly tone, Nix said, "And yet all anyone talks about is how the Enemy of Old is making power plays in the Lore. His power plays are child's play compared to mine."
Like Nix, Lothaire the Enemy of Old was one of the oldest and most powerful beings in the Lore. But the vampire was pure evil.
Nix sniffed, "Lothaire's no saner than I am."
As Regin opened her mouth to correct her, Nix amended, "Not much saner."
"There, now." Regin reached over to pat Nix's shoulder, but that bat hissed at her. "Why don't you hook up with someone, cozy away with a male for a few weeks? Weren't you seeing Mike Rowe?"
"I do miss that baritone-voiced rapscal ion." Nix sighed. "But above all else, I'm a career woman. I've no time to dal y."
"You could take just a short vacay, you know? See some sights." This might be one of the most lucid conversations I've ever had with Nix.
"I'm three thousand and three years old." Nix turned her vacant gaze out the window. "I've seen everything-" She sat up, eyes wild. "Squirrel!"
Strike lucid. "Hey, I know, you could come with me to find Lucia!"
"Maybe she doesn't want to be found just yet. You know she'l cal you before the final showcase showdown with Cruach. For now, I've told you she's with MacRieve."
"With with? 'Cause I refuse to believe that yet another Valkyrie is making time with a werewolf." Much less the prim and proper Lucia.
The earthy Lykae revered sex and matehood; Lucia's magical skil with a bow was celibacy-based. If she got horizontal with a guy, she'd get kicked out of the Skathians, losing her archery forever. Which she needed to fight Cruach.
Hence the fleeing from MacRieve and all .
"Refuse or accept, I cal 'em like I see 'em," Nix said. "Now, I have just one final task for you in the Quarter. I need you to go take out some adversaries. Make it an example killing."
"Example kil ing? Must be Tuesday. And you're not going to get in on the action?"
Nix blinked at her, aghast. "Who will sit Bertil?"
Regin groaned.
"Besides, I'm going to visit Loa's voodoo shop. She's having an Accession sale. Everything must go." She snickered.
"If I do this, will you finally tell me how to find Lucia?"
Another pet of the bat. "Don't worry, dearling. You'll fly out tonight. I promise."
"Are you talking to me or Bertil? Oh, me? Then, fine." She gunned the car even faster, speeding toward the Quarter. Lucia, I'm on my way ... just hold tight. "Tel me where my victims are."
Chapter TWO
Late for what? What the hel had the soothsayer meant? Declan was half-tempted to confront Nix, but she was not to be engaged, by his commander's order.
So for now he bided his time, pursuing the pair of Valkyrie. Since his Humvee stood no chance of keeping up with Regin's sports car and maniacal driving, he'd tracked her vehicle while he listened to their conversation-or what he could make out over the static. It was as if an electrical field had interrupted the relay.
What he'd heard had made little sense to Declan-talk of berserkers and cannibals and some absent sister. all he knew for certain was that Regin had been dispatched to kill.
Not who, not where, only why.
An example killing.
Historical y her enemies were the vampires and certain species of demons. She might lead him to an entire nest of their kinds.
Once he'd reached the Quarter, he quickly spotted Regin's car, parked half on the street, half on the curb. A three-hundred-thousand-dol ar car treated like junk. He'd throttle her just for abusing a car that fine.
He parked a couple of blocks away, then hurried into the crowd, searching for the two. Though he was several minutes behind, he swiftly reencountered Regin sauntering down Bourbon Street alone.
Easy enough to track her. She left a trail of slack-jawed men in her wake.
And they reacted not only to her glowing skin. The Valkyrie walked with an otherworldly sensuality, her h*ps swishing in those low-cut jeans, her plump arse attracting male gazes like moths to a flame. Some men adjusted obvious erections or rubbed cheeks recently slapped by outraged girlfriends.
As Declan trailed her, even he felt his shaft twitch, as if trying to stir for her-though his "medicine" would make that impossible.
To be aroused by a revolting detrus? When nothing else could tempt his deadened, scarred body?
While others in the Order cal ed the immortals miscreats, short for miscreations, Declan often used the term detrus, the coarsest word they had for them.
It meant "vilest abomination."
That was how he saw them. How he'd always seen them, ever since he'd learned of their existence twenty years ago. ...
As the Valkyrie covered blocks, several beings approached her. More witches tried to coax her to go out with them. Two pointed-eared females-likely more Valkyrie-twirled swords, looking like they were primed for a battle and inviting Regin to come along.
She turned them all down with a grin, which promptly faded as she moved on.
Even more beings avoided her. Declan noticed several large males striding in the opposite direction when she came into sight; all wore hats of some type. No doubt behorned demons.
The field notes in her dossier reported that she was notoriously hard on demons. Whereas she simply ended vampires.
When she paused to text something on her cel phone, he drew back behind the cover of a nearby building. Then she gazed up with a peculiar look of sadness. That expression didn't fit her glowing, animated face, seeming as foreign as joy on a dying man's visage.
She stowed her phone back on her belt, then crossed to a back all ey behind a five-story hotel. Without warning, she leapt to a balcony on the fourth floor, easily jogging along the rail before scaling to the roof.
There he saw her hunch down at the edge, her ears twitching once more as she searched for her prey.
A perfect killer.
If it weren't for the Order, immortals would likely rule the earth.
Recently, several had made strikes against well -known human leaders around the world. His commander, Preston Webb, had told him, "Even the more moderate species are aggressing on us, son.
Any tenuous truce has fal en by the wayside."
There truly was to be war between the species. As ever, Webb was right-
Declan lost sight of her. He hastened around to the front of the building, then cased the next, but he didn't see her on any of the roofs. Where the hel was she? He tore up and down streets, head craning.
In the distance, he heard what sounded like an explosion. Seconds later, he got a cal on his earpiece from the leader of his backup unit. When Declan answered, he heard a war zone on the other end.
Yel ing. Gunfire. Was that groaning metal?
"Magister, the target..."
"You weren't ordered to engage her!"
"Sir, she found us!"
His men were the prey. The example killing.
Fuck! He raced toward the sounds, turning a corner. He spotted her maybe half a mile away along a riverside quay downtown.
Never had he seen anything like the scene there.
One of their three black vans was on the bank of the river, upended on its gril . A second lay on its side in the street, with claw marks carved down its length. Bodies of slain soldiers sprawled all around it.
Declan sprinted, unable to reach her before she struck out, swirling with those swords like a tornado, slicing down men with unfathomable speed.
A dozen more soldiers had opened fire on her with their laserlike charge throwers. But those powerful weapons weren't slowing her.
Hair whipping all around her face, she took the electricity, seeming to consume it. Lips curling, she stabbed her swords back into their sheaths and opened her arms wide.
Her lids briefly slid shut in pleasure.
As he ran, he inexplicably shuddered in reaction. Thoughts arose that never should, impulses long denied. ...
"That all you got, muthafuckas?" She glowed brighter, il uminating the street. "I like electricity, you dumbasses! Hit me with another."
They did. She sucked it in. The streetlights surrounding her began to flare from her radiant energy.
"Know what else? I'm a freaking conduit." She caught a jolt in one hand, and channeled it back with her other. She hit one soldier, exploding him into the air, kil ing him instantly.
Rage erupted within Declan. The strength and speed he fought so hard to hide rose to the fore. Blood pumped to his muscles, his thoughts dimming. Like a blur, he closed in on her, unsheathing his sword as he ran.
"You want some of this?" She turned to another soldier, shooting again. "How 'bout you?" And again.
Declan stole behind her, wrapping one arm around her neck to yank her back into him. He inhaled her scent, felt her body, hesitated. Stab her, incapacitate her.
When she thrashed against his chest with inconceivable strength, his training took over and he planted his sword into her side, twisting the blade within her.
Lightning struck nearby. She gasped at the pain. A debilitating wound, even for an immortal.
Blood bubbled from her lips and poured from the gash. Her little body trembled against him, her skin cooling as her light dimmed.
Wrong! his mind screamed. Dizziness hit him as that familiar tension multiplied, knotting every one of his muscles, nearly crippling him. He swayed, quickly withdrawing his blade.
Without him supporting her, she col apsed, curling up on the filthy street. As blood streamed from her side, she narrowed her eyes up at him. They were bright silver, bril iant. Her blond lashes seemed to glitter all around them. Two tears spilled.
Wrong.
He clenched the hilt of his bloody sword, his gut churning until he almost vomited.
"You," she bit out. She gazed at him with recognition, brows drawing together as if with ... betrayal.
"You'll pay."
Some of the remaining soldiers stared at the exchange in confusion. Reminded of his mission, Declan grated, "Bag her."
Disabled by her wound, she couldn't defend herself as two soldiers bound her wrists behind her back.
She drew a breath to shriek, but they slapped a special tape over her mouth. Another pair descended on her, one with a black sack for her head and another with a sedative-fil ed syringe. She struggled wildly as they tightened the sack over her.
Once they'd administered the sedative, her body twitched twice, then fel limp. Utterly defenseless.
This creature had demonstrated monstrous power. Now she lay as if dead.
His men disarmed her, then tossed her into the sole functioning van. Her shirt rode up, revealing the bloody wound Declan had given her.
Why was he sickened? He raked his hand through his hair, then squeezed his forehead. His skul felt like it was splitting.
A thousand times he'd struck, col ecting enemies to be taken back to the Order's compound. What was different about this one?
"Magister?" a soldier said. "Are you all right, sir?"
Declan gazed at their captive, then down at his gloved hands, noting how they shook. No, I'm not f**kin' all right! He'd almost wished his hands had been bare when he'd taken her. To feel a woman's flesh after so long ...