The Viking Wants Forever (3 page)

Read The Viking Wants Forever Online

Authors: Koko Brown

Tags: #Black woman white man romance, #vikings norse mythology, #thor, #Time Travel Paranormal, #comic book superhero romance

BOOK: The Viking Wants Forever
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“This can’t be real.” To test her conclusion, Reese grabbed a healthy portion of her forearm and twisted until the brown skin turned red.

“Fug!” In spite of the pain, she didn’t wake up. Hit by a different conclusion, Reese yelled out, “Allen...Melanie...Otis...you guys can come out now. The jig is up.”

Her assumption wasn’t
too
far-fetched, since all of them were cosplay aficionados and they’d recently turned the store’s mammoth warehouse into Hogsmeade for their annual customer appreciation weekend. Their efforts had garnered regional TV coverage, widespread admiration from the comic community. 

Even as she held her breath and waited, deep down Reese knew no one would emerge, calling her bluff. The cave walls were granite rock, not spray-painted papier-mâché and cardboard. Disgruntled and uncertain of what to do next, Reese walked over to the fire pit. She picked up the sack and rifled through its contents. She found nothing familiar or of use except a week’s worth of rations. Disgruntled, she slung the bag aside and plopped down on the cold ground.

“REESE!” Reese scrambled to her feet as the ground began to quake and several rocks dislodged from the roof of the cave.

“REESE!” the voice bellowed again.

“W-w-who’s there?”

“Don’t you know who I am?” The voice snickered.

“If I did, I wouldn’t have to ask —”

“Watch your tone with me, mortal.”

Reese grabbed onto the wall as the floor rocked underneath her.

“Okay! Who are you?”

“It’s me...Loki.”

“If this is you, Otis, you are
so
dead! You’re lucky I’m no longer your supervisor or I’d cram a pink slip down your throat!”

“I have no idea who an Otis is and you’re not putting anything in my mouth. Have a care in how you address me, woman. I am Loki, a god among mortals, blood brother to Thor, and the one who you so stupidly insulted over a silly game of dice.” As he spoke, his voice grew in volume, rising to such an unbearable level, Reese clamped her hands over her ears.

Its official, I’m certifiably insane.
She believed she’d been transported far from home, and now she was carrying on a conversation with a mythical Norse demigod. 

“You’re here because I brought you here,” the voice sneered, pulling her from the ledge.

“You brought me here because of a minor insult.” Reese’s sense of bravado died when the earth suddenly pitched under her feet. Unable to maintain her footing, she fell to her knees.

“I’ve punished mortals for lesser transgressions,” he raged. “I’m the mighty Loki!”

Mortal or immortal, men were all the same.  They were vain and self-righteous and wanted to be worshipped. Blood boiling, Reese couldn’t resist cracking a shot. “If you are Loki...I know you weren’t always
mighty
for you were not born with your powers, instead you stole them from Odin through trickery.”

The earth stilled, and a soft chuckle broke the silence. “Ah, so you do have a spoonful of intelligence inside that wee woman’s head of yours.  Hopefully, it will serve you well on your journey.”

“Journey? What kind of journey? I’m not going anywhere, buddy! I’m going home...as soon as I find out how.” She glanced at the entrance of the cave and groaned. She doubted she’d find Cocoa Beach on the other side of those mountains.

“As you can see this journey is your only chance home.”

As the god of fraud and mischief, Loki had always taken a keen interest in the goings-on of mortals. They provided a pleasant diversion from the doldrums of instigating mayhem in Asgard. With an ear open to their antics, they naivety fascinated him. And yet there were times, when he wanted to slap them silly, put them in their place. And this woman’s mouth had gotten herself into bigger trouble than she could possibly fathom! The ignorant wench had maligned his good name!

Didn’t she know his clever games of intrigue helped Thor regain Mjollnir, his mighty hammer?

And if it wasn’t for him, all the gods in Asgard would have lost their beauty and youth.

“So will you sit here and mope, or will you play the game?”

The woman looked heavenward and Loki was struck by her natural beauty. The gods blessed her with smooth brown skin that poured over a heart-shaped face punctuated with delicate features. A multitude of intricate braids hung down her back. Her black eyes were dark as midnight and her full lips tempted him to take human form.

“Do I have a choice?” she asked, setting him back on course.

“Not if you want to return home.”

While she silently weighed her non-existent options, Loki waited patiently. He’d spent centuries chained to a rock by that bitch
Skaði
. Waiting this mortal out was like a walk in Valhalla.

“All right, I’m in.”

Loki smiled. Humans were as easy to manipulate as the gods. Thirsty for revenge, he opened his hand, and a piece of rolled leather floated down to fall at the woman’s feet. When she bent over, he admired her rounded hips and plump ass.

“Inside, you’ll find an ancient map of what is now called Norway. Due east is the mouth of the Sognefjord. There you will find Bjarni Torkensson, recently returned from an expedition to the East with a small contingent of mercenaries. Bjarni is the childhood friend of a warlord named Eirik Sigurdsson or ‘Eirik the Fair.’

“Eirik is in possession of a magnificent stone. I believe you Westerners call it a tourmaline, the rainbow gem. Your mission is to divest him of it.”

Obviously baffled by her mission, the wench frowned. “So, let me get this straight. You’ve brought me here,” with each syllable, her voice grew strident with anger, “so I can traipse all over the wilds of Scandinavia for a cheap birthstone?”

Trying his best to ignore the woman’s barb, Loki continued, “Despite your
apparent
disdain, Eirik has elicited the stone’s inner beauty, turning it from a discolored lump into a beautiful gemstone he’s set in gold and wears around his ne—”

“One problem,” she interjected. “How am I going to remove something he wears around his neck? It’s going to be extremely difficult to enter his household, considering no one with my dark complexion lives in this part of the world.” 

“Covered. Bjarni recently purchased several slaves from the far East darker than even yourself.”

“Okay, if by some stroke of luck I do get inside, how am I going to get close enough to a Viking warlord to get a necklace? Hey! Wait a minute!  Why do you want this thing anyway?” 

If she wasn’t so physically appealing with her dark skin, fathomless eyes tipped up like a cat, and thick braids grazing the top of her breasts, he would have smote her for her insolence, but he didn’t... He needed her.

Swallowing his pride, he answered. “Like you, Eirik insulted me.  He did not properly thank

me for delivering the tourmaline into his hands.  If it weren’t for my help, he would have simply passed the village nestled in the Sandstone Mountains as he and his men made their way back to their boats nestled on the shores of the Elbe. I enticed him to take a closer look,” Loki chuckled as he remembered how he’d taken the form of a voluptuous redhead. 

“While he and his men plundered both the village and their women, he discovered

the gem and the nearby mine.  Instead of sending up alms to the one who made him richer than his wildest dreams, the fool paid homage to Thor!” he sneered. “Blood brother or not, the dolt spends his days in Valhalla doing nothing but trying to rut with the Valkyries.  One of these days, one of those vicious harpies is going to lop off his cock and serve it to him for his morning repast!” 

While he raged, the woman started to pace the length of the cave. When she stopped, a frown creased the corners of her mouth, drawing his attention to her full lips.

“Why don’t you get it yourself? You
are
mighty Loki, after all.”

“Do you think I would have if I could?  But, I cannot. Odin has stipulated the gem can only be obtained through a third party and freely given.”

“Just my luck,” he heard her mutter under her breath. “So...the only way I can get this necklace and return home is if Eirik gives it to me?”

“Did I stutter?”

“No, you didn’t stutter, but he’s a Viking! As I recall, from all the
Mighty Thor
comic books I’ve read, they don’t give, they take.”

Sidetracked by his almighty ego Loki asked, “This comic book, am I in it? You know I helped Thor regain Mjollnir.”

“I heard you the first time,” she sniffed, causing the red hairs on the back of his neck to stand at attention. With very little effort her thoughts were obvious to Loki: mortal or immortal, men were all the same —vain and self-righteous.

“Yes, we men
are
all the same,” he gritted out not liking her impudent thoughts, “therefore, you shouldn’t have any trouble regaining the stone. You’re a woman. Use your feminine wiles to take it.”

Reese balled her fists while her mouth worked like a fish out of water, but she said nothing. Instead, she rerolled the map and shoved it inside the travel pack. She then walked over to the gelding, took the reins, and led him outside. Once mounted, she pointed him east toward the Sognefjord.

Chapter Three

I
t took Reese a day and a half of skirting the coast to reach the mouth of the fjord. The noon day sun beat down on her as she descended the last rise, and stumbled onto Bjarni and his men. Expecting a small group of Conan wannabes, Reese was unprepared for the large Viking contingent hunkered down at the water’s edge. Before she called attention to herself and brought a pack of blood-thirsty berserkers down on her head, she hid behind a copse of boulders.

Over a hundred men strong, Bjarni and his mercenaries looked as if they’d just fought their way out of hell rather than simply returning from sea. And despite their obvious proximity to water, many of them looked as if they hadn’t touched it in weeks.

The slaves were in even worse shape. The small group of Moors were not only filthy, but starved as well. They looked like waifs in their oversized torn tunics. And while Reese remained hidden, awaiting nightfall, she noticed they were forced to bear most of the grunt work from gathering wood for a bonfire and fetching water to tending to the livestock.

Tamping down her anger, Reese busied herself dirtying her cloak and tearing the bottom of her

tunic to wrap around her head in a turban like the slaves toiling below. She would be able to blend in since their skin was darker than hers, but with her long braids it would be much harder to hide the fact she was a woman.

Once the sun slipped into the horizon, Reese hid her travel pack under her cloak and began to pick her way down the embankment, the black gelding in tow. Instead of leaving him behind, Reese decided to use him as an excuse if caught.

Aside from the rocky terrain, the moonless night provided excellent coverage, and made her descent surprisingly easy. With an eye on the enemy, Reese skirted the river bank undetected, and safely infiltrated their base camp. She abandoned the gelding to a makeshift corral, then hustled over to the slaves. 

“What are you doing, thrall?”

Reese froze, her eyes lingering with longing on the group of captives huddled less than five

yards away. To her dismay, she realized she’d missed one major detail. All the slaves had been roped together. 

Her mind worked on an excuse. She had one on the tip of her tongue when she was suddenly

spun around so roughly she almost fell to her knees. Bent over at the waist, she struggled to regain her footing when the Viking gripped the back of her neck and shoved his nose into her face.

“How. Did. You. Get. Free?”

“Fetching water for the men,” she choked out. His breath smelled like he’d eaten dog shit for

dinner.

Dissatisfied with her answer, he yanked her up and off her feet. Eye to eye, Reese got her first

close-up look of a real life Viking. It wasn’t pretty. Sunburned, his fur vest was stained with food and what looked like blood. His blonde hair sprouted from his head in long, knotted twists and flowed over his shoulders to blend with his equally long beard.

“How do you know our language?”

Reese blinked. Fluent in English, Spanglish and Elvish, courtesy of her rabid adoration of J.R.R. Tolkien, Reese had no idea why she understood his language and spoke it fluently.

Loki.

There couldn’t be any other explanation. He’d supplied her with the proper attire to help her blend in with the other slaves, provided her with adequate transportation and even delivered a moonless night for excellent cover. It made perfect sense he would also break down the barriers of communication.

“M-My parents were slaves to a Northman, a merchant from Hedeby.”  Reese remembered Otis

mentioning the famous trade port as a stopover for supplies before embarking on their last adventure. “Unlike them, I was born free.” Reese knew she shouldn’t have embellished her lie by proclaiming her freedom. But in some small way she’d hoped by mentioning it she would be treated differently.

His celadon-colored eyes narrowed, his bushy eyebrows practically covered them. If she

weren’t so nervous, and in such a precarious position where he could easily snap her neck, she would’ve laughed.

“How did you end up on the block?”

Relieved he bought her lie, another bubbled from her lips, “After our employer died his estate passed to his nephew. He destroyed our papers then put us up for sale.”

While he pondered her excuse, her gut twisted into knots.

“I put you with the others.” With seemingly little effort, he walked over to the captives and dropped her in the middle of them. “If I catch you again,” he warned while twining a double-looped rope around her wrists, “I will throw you in the fjord with a stone attached to your feet. Understand?”

“Understood,” she croaked through suddenly parched lips.

Relieved to see him go, Reese settled down for the night. As she stared up at the starless sky, she did what she’d always done ever since she’d been dropped into this living nightmare – Reese prayed she would wake up.

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