Claimed (9 page)

“Hey, big boy.” Her voice was low and sultry, her tone seductive.

“Hey yourself.” Creed braced himself for whatever might come next.

She moved closer, until only a slice of space separated them, and ran her fingers down his chest. Her touch was light, yet Creed felt as if he’d been touched by flame.

“We about done here?”

The words came on a whisper, meant for him only. He braced himself against the lust she exuded, cursed himself for getting involved in the first place.

“Not yet.” He turned away, too aware of the erection straining against the fabric of his pants.

“I can think of better things to do.”

She was tight against his back, arms around his chest, whispering in his ear. Creed fought for control. His mind knew Chiana wasn’t herself. Whatever marked her had given her Valkyrie blood free rein; the human part of her was in there somewhere, if he could only bring it to the surface.

Creed was all too conscious of the potion in his pocket. He’d feel a hell of a lot better if he knew what was in it, and what it would do to Chiana if he jabbed her right now. Maybe she’d revert to the person her partner believed her to be, a by-the-book agent who would be horrified by the way she was acting.

Then again, maybe not. The good doctor had seemed nervous; Creed wondered if the man even knew what its effects might be.

“We passed a motel on the way here,” Chiana whispered for his ears only.

Creed had seen it, too. A mom and pop operation, with only a couple of cars parked in front of it. Desire coaxed him, suggested that hard, mindless sex might not be such a bad thing. The memory blazed of her stripped down at the safe house, of the rich body hidden under her clothes.

He closed his eyes and forced other memories to the front of his mind, images from the past that reminded him why he was alone, why his life had to stay that way. Breathing deeply, he drew on the pain that festered inside him.

Creed grabbed Chiana’s hands with his own and broke her hold. He spun, using the precious moments of surprise to move to the other side of the room, putting essential distance between them. From that vantage point, he watched Chiana change again as she went from siren to simply a woman battered by forces she couldn’t control.

This, he realized, was the point of no return. Either he accepted Chiana and all she represented, or he cut his losses and left her behind. He was here for one reason and one reason only: as a favor to a friend, repayment for a sin.

“You need a shot.”

“Ya think?” Chiana’s words were braver than her shaky tone. “Give me my case.”

Creed shook his head.

“One syringe at a time, and I shoot it into you.”

He could tell she wanted to argue. Chiana was used to giving orders, not taking them. But she was suffering. Sweat beaded her face, and despite her best efforts at control, her hands trembled. She nodded, and he turned his back, pulling the case from his pocket and taking out one of her precious syringes.

“Perhaps I’d best do that.”

Behind him, Lillian waited with her hand outstretched.

“Good idea.” Creed handed her the serum over his shoulder. “Under the skin, not into the muscle.”

He kept his back to the women, waiting until Lillian said, “All done” to turn around. Chiana offered a tentative smile, her hand rubbing a spot just beneath her waist.

“We good?” Creed asked.

“I hope,” Chiana answered. “Give me a few minutes.”

“Take all the time you need,” Creed said, holding up his hands in an
it’s okay
gesture. Not only was he planning to give her as much time as she needed, he intended to keep his distance until he knew she was back to herself.

He also needed to discuss his next move with Lillian, but in English this time. Chiana was right; she deserved to know what her very existence meant.

Chiana had lost time again. She remembered her growing irritation at being excluded from the conversation; the next thing she recognized was the prick in her stomach and the familiar reaction that followed a shot.

She hated having pieces of her life missing; she had a feeling good things weren’t happening during those minutes. Creed’s uneasiness was another tipoff that she might become someone else, someone she wouldn’t like. And it was making her decidedly uneasy as well. She remembered what he’d said, that he’d come to save her or destroy her, but he wasn’t sure which.

“Can I ask you something?” She addressed the question to Lillian.

“Of course. I’m not sure I have the answer, but go ahead.”

“Is this how the rest of my life is going to be, one negative moment after another?”

Silence.

Chiana waited as Lillian closed her eyes, steeling herself to hear the “yes” that she felt was coming.

“Oh, I hope not,” Lillian answered. “I believe you’ll be all right if you can keep your mood changes under control, defeat whoever Odin has sent after you and find a way to keep your human side dominant so others who might follow can’t identify you.”

“Oh, is that all? Piece of cake. Let me start on it now.”

“Sarcasm is unnecessary,” Creed said. “You asked for Lillian’s opinion, she gave it to you.”

“I believe she expected something more constructive and concrete,” Lillian responded. “Like being told that if she turns around three times and mumbles the right words backward, poof! Her troubles will disappear.”

That was exactly what Chiana wanted to hear. She wanted to turn back the clock to the moment she called in and went off duty. She wanted to get back in her Mustang at that very moment, drop Mick off at his house and find the sanctuary of her own. If they hadn’t stopped for breakfast, if she hadn’t lingered so long over coffee…

She would still have been tagged. Her rational mind knew that. Odin’s warrior would have located her, touched her, and she’d still be in this mess.

She dropped her head, afraid they’d see the tears glistening in her eyes.

“There’s no way out, is there?”

“Options always exist, my dear.” Lillian cradled Chiana’s hands in hers. “The enemy is time. Most of the world considers the supernatural to be mere myths. Zombies, ghosts, hell’s creatures…those of us who have had a brush with the other beings that populate our plane know the truth.

“Your pursuer comes from a different reality, but that makes the threat no less serious. He must limit his time in our world and return to his own in order to refresh himself. But each time he comes, he will be able to stay longer, and he will be stronger.”

“Tell her the rest,” Creed said.

“Based on my studies, I believe he is most comfortable assuming the form of a raven. His inability to maintain human form may drive the spirit to attempt to inhabit a mortal body to get to you.”

“Oh, shit.” Chiana’s eyes widened, and her skin turned cold. She could have lived without that little piece of news.

“Any body except mine.” Creed gave her a tight smile. “Thrills you, huh?”

Lillian nodded.

“He’s correct. The spell that binds you to him, and which keeps you from being able to hurt him, also allows you to see him in his true form at all times.”

“Well, whoopee,” Chiana muttered, realizing how many millions of people there were in the world for Odin’s errand boy to use.

She didn’t bother asking why they didn’t hole up here, a long dirt road from civilization. The answer was probably something else she didn’t want to hear. Like the ghost chasing her had the ability to walk through walls if the house was made of stone.

She sighed deeply and shook her head.

“So what you’re saying is that I might as well go out, stand in the front yard and wait for whoever comes by to fit me for a breastplate and hoist me on a battle horse.”

Lillian laughed, although Chiana didn’t think what she said was particularly funny. Of course, it was hard to keep hold of your sense of humor when you had a brand burned into your skin.

Creed watched Chiana throw her hands up and stalk out to the porch. As far as he could tell, she was back to her usual self. Or what he assumed was her usual self, since she’d done her share of personality changing since he’d met her.

“Two shots left,” he told Lillian.

“Wait here.” She walked toward the kitchen, leaving him to watch Chiana through the open door.

She returned with a small plastic bag packed full of a brownish-green substance.

“This is it?” Creed asked.

Lillian nodded. “Keep the bag hidden on you; don’t let Chiana know you have it. Use its contents wisely, please, only in desperation.”

Creed studied the bag, cocked his head and asked, “Any permanent side effects?”

Lillian shrugged and smiled. Her response was less than reassuring he decided as he slipped the bag into his pocket beside the syringe case then picked up the stack of esoteric books Lillian insisted he take for reference.

Their goodbyes were quick. Heading back down the gravel road, Creed ran through his conversation with Lillian. She’d verified what he believed, that it was possible to keep Chiana here. Possible didn’t mean easy, though.

“Now what?” Chiana asked from the passenger seat. “Do we drive around in circles until we get dive-bombed by a raven from loony land?”

“Wish I knew,” Creed said. “We’re talking a dimension I know diddly-squat about, and I’ve been doing this longer than you have. Lillian suggests we go where we can draw on natural magnetic strength, hoping that the magnetism will play havoc with time and space.”

“And that would be?”

“Southeastern Ohio. A chain of caves to be exact.”

The incredulous look on Chiana’s face matched his own doubts. How prowling around underground was going to keep Odin’s man from finding them, he wasn’t sure. He did know Lillian was a hell of a lot smarter than he was, and he couldn’t come up with anything better.

“Before we take a tour of stalagmites, or whatever those pointy things are called, can we eat? Not that the cookies weren’t wonderful, but I need a steak. Or two.”

Creed glanced at the dash clock.

“We ate a couple of hours ago,” he said. “I don’t feel comfortable being out in the open.”

“Yeah, well, that stuff you just stuck in me does something to my metabolism. Feed me again or regret it, that’s all I’m saying.”

Creed weighed the options. His gut instinct was to haul ass and damn the consequences. Trouble was the consequences might be more than he could handle going eighty miles an hour. Besides, a run-through at a burger place wouldn’t slow them down much.

As if she’d read his mind, Chiana said, “I want a sit-down place, where they’ll refill my glass a dozen times and food comes on real plates.”

“We’re in a hurry.”

“For what? Sounds to me like your plan is to hunker down underground and hope nothing happens.”

Although Creed longed to contradict her, that was pretty much as far as he’d gotten. His experience with Norse gods was limited to what he’d learned in his high school literature class and his agency training. Neither one taught how to protect a Valkyrie half-breed from being hauled to another plane of existence.

Lillian’s books might help, if he could find time to read them.

“So what’s the verdict here?” Impatience colored Chiana’s voice. “You gonna find a nice steakhouse, or do I have to salt and pepper your biceps and start chomping?”

Creed rolled his eyes.

“Only if you agree to some ground rules.”

Chiana held her wrists toward him.

“Cuff me and drag me in. Chain me to the chair. Whatever it takes to get a fat T-bone in front of me.”

Creed wasn’t sure whether her good mood was the real Chiana or an effect of the shot she’d had. One thing he did know was that if the switch turned on and she became a raging warrior or a seductress, he wanted to be able to control the situation. Assuring her they’d stop as soon as he found the right place, he upped the truck’s speed and headed for the interstate.

He slowed as they passed through a small town about a mile from I-77. Spotting a flash of neon, he turned right into the three-block downtown. As he suspected, the neon sign belonged to a bar and grill, whose parking lot was half-full. He pulled in beside a Jeep and a pick-up with more rust than paint.

Creed got out and walked around the truck to open Chiana’s door. She was already standing by the front fender when he reached her. In her arms, she held some of the books Lillian loaned them.

“I’m not going to run,” she said. “At least not until I get some food in me.”

“I didn’t expect you to,” he lied.

“Oh, yeah, you did,” she retorted with a quick grin. “Gentlemanly manners didn’t bring you around to this side.”

She was right. He’d long ago given up the niceties of civilized society. And he hadn’t missed them until now.

“Let’s go get a steak,” he said, taking the books from her. “The biggest one they have.”

“You paying?” Chiana asked.

Creed nodded.

“Then maybe I will make it two.”