Dragonslayer (Twilight of the Gods Book 3)

BOOK: Dragonslayer (Twilight of the Gods Book 3)
13.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

 

 

 

DRAGONSLAYER

 

Eleri Stone

 

 

 

 

Copyright
2014 Eleri Stone

 

 

All rights reserved.

 

No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission from the author, except for the use of quotations in a book review.

 

This is a work of fiction. All names, people, places and incidents are either used fictitiously or are products of the author’s imagination.

 

Chapter One

 

Christian nursed his beer and tried to ignore the woman at his side. McGuire’s was dead tonight. Yellow light reflected off the laminated menus and the tarnished chrome of the napkin dispensers. Jay, the owner, had stepped into the back, and Christian could hear the dull clink of dishware as he loaded the washer. The whole place was empty except for the table under the neon-lit window up front, a couple of guys playing pool in the back and Beth, leaning across the bar to pay her tab. Her full breasts pressed briefly to his arm as she slid onto the stool beside him.

“Friday night and no date?” Beth’s clear blue eyes fixed on him, and her ruby lips parted in a smile. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“I haven’t had a date in…”
Gods, how long had it been?
He shook his head. “You know, I can’t even remember.”

“Everyone hits a dry spell now and then, you know. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“It’s not a dry spell if it’s by choice.”

“Abstinence?” She laughed, and the corner of his mouth edged up too, because…yeah. Taking a drink, he set the glass aside just as Beth reached out to squeeze his wrist. “I don’t think you’re really cut out for celibacy.”

“Don’t you?”

“How is it Aiden puts it?” She deepened her voice in a fair imitation of the Odin’s. “We can’t afford to squander any of the gifts the gods have seen fit to bestow upon us.”

“That’s one of the more interesting pick-up lines I’ve heard. You use it on all the men?”

“Not all of them, no.”

No mistaking the invitation there. It was in the curve of her smile and the way her hand lingered on his arm. For a brief moment, he thought about taking her up on her offer. He knew Beth wasn’t looking for anything serious. She was a hunter like he was, charged with guarding the fault line between earth and Asgard, making sure none of the jötnar slipped through. Too busy trying to balance building a law practice with her obligation to the clan, she didn’t want a husband or family. Occasionally she wanted sex, no-strings-attached sex. In the past, he wouldn’t have hesitated.

“Why?”

Her eyes widened slightly and she laughed. “You need to ask? You, the man who can’t even remember when he had his last date? Look around.” She swept her gaze pointedly over the nearly empty room. “Who else do you suggest I proposition? Jay?”

“Iona would slit your throat.”

“And spoil all the beer. She’s of Ægir’s line, you know.”

“More likely she’s part troll.” Jay had only kept the bar open this late because he was avoiding his sharp-tongued wife.

Beth whacked him in the arm. “My point is this is a small town. There aren’t a lot of prospects, not without making things complicated. You’re over Raquel.”

She didn’t phrase it as a question, and he was grateful for that. Raquel was the reason everyone was tiptoeing around him. It was coming up on the anniversary of when his fiancée had thrown him over to marry his best friend.

“There was nothing to get over,” he said. “No matter what the rest of the clan thinks, I’m not angry or heartbroken or disappointed. Fen and Raquel were meant to be together. Anyone can see that.”

“Then what is this? You haven’t been yourself lately, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”

None of the full-blooded Æsir were shy about speaking their minds. They cared, and he loved them to death for it, but sometimes their concern was a pain in the ass. Everyone expected him to go back to the way he’d been before the broken betrothal, but he didn’t want to do that. For the first time, he knew what he wanted out of life—a family, a wife of his own choosing, kids. If Beth had been interested in more than a one-night stand, he might have said yes.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Nothing’s wrong with me other than the fact I have to be up at dawn on a Saturday. I’m not heading anywhere tonight but home to bed.”

Beth raised her brows.

“Alone.” He smiled to soften the rejection. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Not only did he consider her a friend, she was also damned quick with a blade. “You might want to do the same. Don’t think I’ll go easy on you if you show up hung over.”

There was only a trace of disappointment in Beth’s expression, which confirmed that he’d made the right decision.

“You never go easy on us. It’s what’s kept us alive these past couple of years.” She glanced at his beer. “Do you need a ride home?”

He touched the rim of his glass. “Jay charmed this one. Once I finish it off, I’ll be fine.”

Behind him, the door opened and a gust of cold air blew in, lifting the corners of his napkin and raising goose bumps on his neck. Beth glanced over her shoulder to see who it was, and her smile faded. Christian checked the mirror above the bar. From this angle, he had a clear view of the entrance so he could see any new threat that might walk through the door.

In this case,
threat
was an overstatement of epic proportions. The woman standing across the room was tiny and shivering like a stray puppy. Her wispy red hair stuck out from beneath an orange knit cap, and her ugly brown coat was at least two sizes too big.

He nudged Beth’s arm. “Why don’t you go back to your friends? I’ll take care of this one.”

“You sure you can manage it on your own? I wouldn’t want it to keep you up past bedtime.” He gave her a withering look, but she only smiled. “Seriously, I can get her out of here. She’s probably just lost.”

The woman looked lost and sweetly vulnerable in a way that triggered his protective instincts. McGuire’s sat at on a barren corner between the road leading to Ragnarok and a two-lane highway twisting in either direction through miles of farm country. All corn and soy fields, currently covered with frost. They didn’t get many strangers during the summer, let alone in the dead of winter with a storm blowing in.

“I’ll handle it,” he said. “Go. Have fun.”

Accepting that with a nod, Beth left to rejoin her group, and Christian returned his attention to the mirror above the bar. The stranger stomped her boots on the mat to clear them of snow and then tugged off her mittens. She took a tentative step forward, and her gaze swept the room. The expression on her face could only be described as unimpressed. Of course, McGuire’s was unimpressive on purpose. The whole town was. They wanted it to look like every other remote little farming community in the Midwest. One main street. No traffic lights. A diner, gas station, tiny little grocery store, library and post office. Nothing that would encourage visitors to linger. Nothing to suggest that Ragnarok sat on a crossroads between worlds. It worked better than a glamour to keep the curious away.

Lifting his drink and wincing at the taste of warm beer, Christian felt more than heard the woman approach. Like all huntsmen, he had a heightened awareness of movement around him. Perfect sight and hearing. His sense of smell wasn’t as sharp as a hound’s, but it was far keener than the average human’s. As the woman walked up behind him, he could scent the wind and snow on her, feel the chill that clung to her skin.

When she reached the bar, he turned his head. She was prettier up close and without the hat. Static made her red hair stick up oddly and cling to her pale cheeks. Wide gray eyes, finely arched brows and a wry twist to her lips that suggested a smile. When she shrugged free of her ugly coat, he couldn’t help but notice the way her cream-colored sweater clung to the gentle swells of her breasts.

“This seat taken?”

He raised an eyebrow and looked down the empty bar. “It’s all yours.”

“Thanks.” She settled her coat on the high-backed seat of the stool and sat down. “Cold night out there. Are they closing up early?”

“No one wants to get stuck on the road. The owner will close as soon as he’s done in back. If you’re having car trouble, I have the number for the local shop. There’s not a tow ban quite yet. You might still be able to get them out.”

“My phone…well, the service is spotty, but that’s not my problem. I’m actually looking for a place to stay the night, and I haven’t seen a hotel since I got off the main highway an hour back. I thought it might be best to stop and ask for directions before I do actually get lost.”

Jay must have heard her come in, because he stepped from the back, wiping his hands dry on a towel. The woman rested her elbows on the bar to order a coffee. When she had the steaming mug in her hands, Jay moved away and she turned back to Christian.

“So…”

“So.”

She looked at him hopefully. “If you could point me toward the nearest hotel, I’d really appreciate it.”

“You can backtrack to the highway for the nearest chain hotel,” he told her. “Or you can keep going about a half-hour and there’s a small family-owned motel off this road. Otherwise, you’ll have to go all the way to Decorah.”

“That’s almost an hour away, isn’t it?”

When the roads were clear. He nodded, and her expression fell.

“A bed and breakfast, maybe?”

He tipped his head to the east. “In Elkader. But they won’t be taking calls this late. You could try, I suppose. But there’s a lot of county road between here and there, unlikely to have been cleared of snow. The motel is older, but the couple who run it are nice. Not fancy, but it’s clean.”

She thought about that for a moment as she sipped at her coffee. Her lips were chapped, as were her cheeks. Cold tended to affect Midgardians more than Æsir, and it was a measly seven degrees out there tonight, with a bitter wind blowing from the north.

When she set the mug down on the wooden bar top, she threaded her fingers around the brown ceramic as if trying to hold on to the warmth.

“Where are you headed?”

She tipped him another smile. “A little place called Ragnarok. It’s supposed to be around here but I haven’t seen any signs. Of course, with all the snow I might just have missed it. Do you know where it is?”

Damn
.

“Down this road. Five miles west. They did roadwork this fall. I think we lost the sign.” They had a habit of losing signs. They seldom lasted longer than a week. “Why are you looking for Ragnarok?”

“I’m with the DNR. Wildlife management. We were called out to investigate a few strange reports in the area.” Some of his alarm must have shown on his face, because she waved her hand and said, “It’s nothing really. The local sheriff asked for help identifying an animal and I’m the only wildlife biologist without a…” She paused there. He saw a little flinch at the corners of her eyes, but she continued on lightly. “Well, I’m the only one who was available to come out here on short notice. I’m here to talk to the locals, but I don’t know where to start.”

Brushing a strand of flyaway hair from her face, she reached back into her coat pocket and handed him a business card. “It would really help me out a lot if you could tell me who I should contact when I come back in the morning. This place…”

“Is like an internet black hole.” He took the card from her and leaned back in his chair. The card was cheap, plain white stock. It had her name—Jacey Morgan—and cell phone on it, along with what he assumed was the number for the state office. “I’m from Ragnarok. If you tell me what you’re looking for, maybe I can point you in the right direction.”

“You’re sure you have the time?” She glanced toward the table where Beth was sitting with her friends. “I don’t want to bug you if you’re busy.”

“I was getting ready to head home, but I have a few minutes,” he said. “It’s no trouble.”

“Okay, then.” She pulled a folder from her bag and set it on the bar. “We have an unusual number of reports out of this area for missing animals. Pets mostly, but also…well, mostly pets. Frankly, I think it’s a wild goose chase, but the boss says check it out and here I am.”

“In a snowstorm.”

She wrinkled her nose. He almost resented how adorably sweet it looked, because it turned out that this woman, cute as she was, was most definitely a threat. “It wasn’t supposed to storm. All the reports said this would go north of us.”

That might have been Aiden’s doing. He wanted to train in the woods tomorrow morning, and with it being Saturday, he might have thought a snowstorm was the best way to encourage their neighbors to stay inside. “I haven’t heard anything but I would call the mayor first—Bill Vinter. He’ll be able to help you out. There’s no police department in town. We’re patrolled by the county sheriff.”

She leaned across the bar for a napkin, and he tried not to notice her sweetly rounded ass. It was a losing battle. He hadn’t slept with anyone in the last year while he straightened out his life. The warmth flooding his veins now at the sight of little Jacey Morgan wiggling to reach a napkin was damned inconvenient timing. He couldn’t have picked anyone
more
off limits if he’d tried.

Sitting back on the stool, she said, “The sheriff is the one who contacted us. He referred me to Mr. Vinter, who hasn’t called me back yet.”

Bill was an idiot who liked holding the title of mayor but not doing any of the work that came with it. He’d have to be talked to. “I’m surprised they’d send you all the way out here.”

“Like I said, it’s probably nothing.”

She wasn’t telling him the whole truth, and he decided to press just a little harder. “You said mostly pets. What else?”

Other books

Syren's Song by Claude G. Berube
THE BASS SAXOPHONE by Josef Skvorecky
Myrmidon by David Wellington
A Hell of a Dog by Carol Lea Benjamin
Bombers' Moon by Iris Gower
What Endures by Katie Lee