Viking Warrior Rebel (18 page)

“You were clear enough.” Whalert cleared his throat. “I owe you an apology, but maybe the fact that I listened on some level will make up for that. I started separating your cover identity from a lot of the official records. It didn't take much, since DTU operates under the radar anyway and is on a separate IT infrastructure. But I did enough so that this morning I only had to run a few computer routines to separate your undercover identity from your real identity. Luke Holden no longer exists in any bureau records, but his official paperwork is still valid.”

“I don't know what to say.” He was stunned both by the audacity of his boss's action—who knew how many laws he had just broken—and the brilliance of his planning. What had happened to the stuffy office guy who insisted on the wisdom of following procedures?

“You don't have to say anything. It's not a foolproof plan, but it should buy us enough time so we don't have to worry about anyone coming after you immediately. I even doctored Broden's report in the Denver office's records.”

“That makes things easier on this end. Do you still want me to meet up with Kraus tomorrow to see what that connection is?”

“Yes, dig around in whatever that shithead is up to. I have a hunch he's the key to a lot of this.” Whalert paused. “I'm heading closer your way.”

“Okay.” If his boss had shared that much about his new location, he must trust Luke at least a little.

“Ditch this phone,” Whalert continued. “We'll communicate in safe areas online until I can set up a safe phone connection again. Use DTU code modification.” The Domestic Terrorist Unit had developed code words no other agencies were aware of. No electronic or written records of the encryption key were stored. Each new agent learned and memorized the code when a senior agent taught it to them.

“How will I know where on the Net to find you?”

“You'll get an invitation you can't miss.” Whalert chuckled. “Anything new with your target?”

Luke hesitated. Talking about Astrid somehow seemed disloyal. A completely irrational feeling, but there it was. “I found the connection between her and Naya Brisbane.”

“Spill.”

Luke summarized how Naya's fiancé was the leader of the group and how they all lived in the same mansion.

“Sounds like a cult,” Whalert said.

“They function more like law enforcement than a cult.” Luke paused for a breath. “Actually, they're very much like soldiers. I definitely get the warrior vibe from all of them.”

“If they're operating within our borders, they must work with some branch of the U.S. military.”

“That's just it. Leif says they're a sovereign nation and have diplomatic immunity.”

“What, like some sort of Native American ambassadors? That doesn't even make sense.”

“I know. I'll have to do some more digging. I'm invited to Naya and Leif's wedding the day after tomorrow.”

“Weddings are excellent opportunities to make friends.”

Luke doubted he'd become friends with any of the other guys if they were at all like Ulf and Leif. It was more likely they'd all get drunk and brawl. “I'll try my best. There's more.” He told Whalert about the women kidnapped by the wolverines.

“If there's a human-trafficking connection and someone within our government is involved, they will want this covered up.” He cursed under his breath. “And why haven't you told me about these wolverine freaks before?”

“I figured you'd have me committed to a room with padded walls.”

Whalert laughed, but it was more bitter than joyful. “Probably. But at this point, my eyes are opened to all kinds of depravities and weird shit. So you think these creatures are genetically engineered.”

Luke nodded and then realized his boss couldn't see. “Yes.” He almost told Whalert about growing up in one of the covert labs and what it had done to his brother, but keeping quiet about that part of his life was too ingrained.

“We need to stop this. You find out more about what the Scandinavians are doing and how they are connected to these creatures. See if Kraus is somehow involved. I'll work on flushing out who in the government is covering for these fuckers.” He paused. “Could we use Leif and his troops as allies? If they're fighting the wolverines, it seems like we have a common enemy.”

“I don't know enough about them to be able to answer that yet.” Although, there was no way Astrid would be an ally once she figured out how much he'd kept from her. Ulf had pointed out that Astrid was quite capable of killing him. She'd probably choose a very slow and painful method.

They ended the conversation, and Luke destroyed the phone he'd used. That would be his last link to Luke Hager for a while. He'd only have to worry about being Holden now. At this point, he wasn't sure how separate the two identities actually were. Meeting Astrid had a lot to do with why he preferred being Luke Holden.

His other phone dinged the signal for incoming email, and he checked his inbox. A message welcomed him to his new membership in the Hair Club for Men.

Whalert had a sick sense of humor.

Flower garlands were stupid, Astrid decided as she tried to get the stalk of a rose to bend and attach to some twine. She'd never been into girlie stuff, other than her love of luxury bath products and lotions. Why did Naya need flowers all the way down the aisle? Just a few at the front by the altar would have been plenty. The wedding was tomorrow, and there was no way Astrid would get all these freaking roses to cooperate in time for the ceremony. The florist had told them they could put up the flowers the day before, since they would keep in the cool temperatures of the spring nights. She'd been miffed Leif wouldn't let her and her crew on the premises but reluctantly gave the Vikings the instructions.

A large tent had been erected in the meadow behind the fortress, and by keeping it closed, they'd protect the flowers from any late-spring frost. The flowers had to be sprayed with water this evening and then again in the morning to look fresh and dewy. A lot of effort for a bunch of prickly weeds. Luckily, Astrid didn't need to be involved beyond trying to wrestle the stems into garlands. Irja and Torvald would be on water-spraying duty. Torvald loved flowers. Who would have guessed?

Leif and Naya would say their vows on Walpurgis Night, the traditional Norse celebration of spring and the beginning of new life. Astrid had always loved the celebration, especially the giant bonfires that were lit at dusk. After a long winter, seeing nature wake up to spring made everything seem possible. What better timing for the king and queen to celebrate their new life together as a married couple? All the warriors had enjoyed collecting wood into a giant pile in the meadow behind the fortress. Astrid looked forward to lighting it. Maybe Naya would let her throw some of the rose garlands into the flames. The thought made her smile, and she twisted the rose stem one last time and forced it in place.

Thinking about marriage made Astrid's thoughts stray to Luke. The
själsfrände
bond had forced them together, but were their feelings strong enough to sustain a relationship? Somewhere deep inside, no matter how disappointed she'd been in love in the past, she'd always wanted what Naya and Leif had. Though their relationship had been rocky in the beginning. At one point, Naya had run away from Leif and the warriors because the pressure of the forced connection was too much. That damn bond.

Astrid had been furious and hurt when Naya left, but now she understood better. Were her own feelings for Luke real, or was the bond manipulating her into a relationship—a marriage—she wasn't emotionally ready for? This must be what brides of arranged marriages felt like. And she still had to explain to Luke that the Norse handfasting ritual needed to be completed or Astrid's life in the human realm would be over. No biggie.

A rose thorn pricked her finger, jarring her thoughts off the depressing path they'd been heading down. She sucked her finger and looked up to find Scott standing in front of her, a crooked smile on his face. Freya's fury, either he had ninja stealth like Sten, or she'd been so wrapped up in her own head that she'd actually allowed him to sneak up on her. That hadn't happened in centuries.

Damn the
själsfrände
bond and damn Luke.

One or both would be the death of her.

“You take these flowers seriously,” Scott said. “I had to say your name twice before you looked up.”

She grimaced. “Sorry, I have a lot on my mind.” If the rose hadn't pricked her finger, he may still be standing there hollering at her.

“I can tell.” He looked at her hand, where the lines outlining the serpent's tail were contrasting more and more against her skin.

She frowned. Did Scott know about the bond? Naya must have told him when she explained her relationship with Leif. Astrid lowered her hand and pulled her sleeve down to cover the markings. “What can I do for you?” She liked the queen's brother. Their time together in the car had been pleasant. Scott explained he had passed his time in the clinic catching up on pop culture, so they'd chatted about movies and TV shows. He'd also had a lot of questions about Naya and how she fit in with the Vikings and Valkyries. Compared to that lively conversation, he seemed more subdued and maybe a little sad today.

“I'm trying to find something to do.” He smiled that crooked smile again. “I'm not very useful around here. It's taking a toll on my ego.”

Astrid laughed. “I imagine most of the men in the house feel that way right now. There doesn't seem to be much need for brawn now that we've finished the woodpile for the bonfire.” She looked him over. He had Naya's coloring, that midnight black hair and eyes so dark they were almost violet. But he was much taller than his sister, at least six foot two, and his hair was a mess of curls while Naya's fell straight as a cascading waterfall. With broad shoulders and sinewy muscles, his body didn't show any of the sickness that had kept him bedridden for years.

Something sad passed in Scott's eyes. “It's more than that. I truly don't belong here.”

“Of course you do. You're Naya's brother. You're the queen's blood. How could you not belong?”

“But that doesn't describe me, just my function. How do you truly know what kind of man I am? You only know the circumstances of my birth. How do you know you can trust me?”

Astrid knew better than most that the role into which you were born didn't dictate who you chose to be. “It's more than that,” she hedged, not finding the exact words to describe why he was automatically accepted. “You mean everything to Naya and she means everything to us, so you are one of us automatically.”

Scott picked up one of the roses and fingered its petals. “Maybe my sister doesn't know me as well as she thinks.” He flung the rose on the floor. “I don't know who I am. I've never lived outside an institution. I don't know what real life is.”

Astrid looked down at the flower and then up at Scott. “If you're going to mangle the decorations, at least you can do so by helping me attach the little suckers to these garlands.” She smiled to soften her words. Scott was having some sort of existential crisis, but she wasn't great at giving advice or comfort.

“Sorry.” He gave her a sheepish grin, collected another flower from one of the buckets, and added it to the garland in just a few seconds.

“How did you do that so quickly?”

Scott gave her a puzzled look. “I just used the little fasteners.” He pointed to some plastic clips hanging off the twine.

Astrid muttered a few choice swear words under her breath. The section she'd started on didn't have fasteners. She moved some over to her part of the twine and started to add flowers. Now that she didn't have to bend the stems into figure eights, the job went much quicker.

They worked in silence for a few moments. “I understand what you're dealing with,” Astrid said.

Scott looked up. “How so?”

She avoided looking at him. “I grew up in a very controlled environment.” She stopped, searching for words. “I couldn't decide my own schedule. Someone else was in charge of when I ate, when I trained, when I slept.” She shot him a look.

Scott nodded. “You felt powerless, like you weren't your own person, just a function of someone else's life.”

“Exactly.” It had been much worse than that. She'd also felt worthless, as if she deserved the degrading treatment. For a while, she'd believed her low status gave the others the right to treat her like shit. But she wasn't going to share that with Scott. She didn't share that with anyone.

“How did you reclaim your life? How did you figure out who you truly are?”

“I didn't.” Astrid shrugged. “I was so messed up there wasn't a chance in Valhalla I'd be able to do that.”

Scott's eyes widened. “This is not helping. Please tell me you figured out how to deal with that situation without having to spend years in therapy.”

She laughed. “I didn't see a shrink, but after some time I figured out who I
wanted
to be. Once that was clear, I set out to become that person.” A succinct summary that skipped over years of self-destructive behavior and bad choices, but Scott didn't need to know that. He had Naya to help him through. Hopefully, his journey would not include the truly fucked-up episodes that had been on Astrid's path to self-awareness.

Scott smiled and moved as if to answer, but then focused on something behind her. His face displayed such naked yearning that Astrid's breath caught. She turned and saw Irja walking toward them. Well, wasn't that an interesting development. Scott and Irja.

“The garlands look great,” the dark-haired Valkyrie said when she caught up with them.

“Thanks, I had some help.” Astrid snuck a quick peek at Scott, but his facial expression had gone completely blank.

“I didn't do much,” he offered. “Mostly chatted her ear off.”

Irja turned to Scott. “I've come to steal you away for physical therapy.”

Scott dropped the flowers he was holding back into their bucket with more force than necessary. “Of course you have. I'm the invalid whose body doesn't work right.”

Irja took a step back. “Your doctor said to continue the physical therapy you'd started in the clinic. I didn't mean to—”

“I know. You mean well and are just helping.” Scott stomped off in the direction of the fortress. “Everybody is just helping and wants what's best for me.”

Irja turned to Astrid. Hurt flickered in her eyes. “What was that about?”

“Don't worry about it.” Astrid squeezed her shoulder. “His Y chromosome is making him feel inadequate because he's not out marauding.” She watched Scott as he walked away from them. “The guy has more in common with our Norse men than he thinks.”

“What?” Irja shook her head. “Never mind, I don't think I want to know.” She looked around the tent. “This is going to be beautiful.”

“Sure.” Astrid shrugged.

Irja smiled. “I forgot that you're not into flowers.” She turned serious again. “Your Holden sent an email, recommending a safe house for the women we rescued.”

“He's not mine.”

Irja quirked an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Astrid's left hand. “I would argue he is.”

Astrid sighed but decided not to get into it. “Fine. What safe house? Why is he emailing you?” That last question came out more petulant than she'd intended, but Irja just smiled.

“He sent it to all three of us—you, me, and Naya. He knows of an organization that works with refugees who have experienced trauma. I called them, and they said they have space for all five of our guests.”

Astrid hesitated. She recognized that the women couldn't stay at the fortress, but after what they'd been through, she didn't want to move them so soon, didn't want them to feel abandoned. They needed to be seen as people, not victims or property. The assholes who had abducted them had microchipped them. As if they were pets. Astrid had helped Irja remove the trackers from under their skin. She swallowed the anger rising in her chest. “What do we know about this organization?”

“Naya checked them out, and they do good work. They can offer counseling and other services we're not qualified to give and do not have experience with.” If the queen had screened them, that meant she'd done an extensive review through official and not-so-official channels.

“At least let me say good-bye to them.” Astrid had spent a lot of time with Camila. Although the young woman still wouldn't—probably couldn't—share the details of what had happened during her captivity, they'd talked about other things. Camila was older than she looked. She'd been a senior in college, studying prelaw. She'd been abducted one night as she walked across campus from the library to her dorm.

“You'll definitely have that chance. Naya wants you to drive them there. She's busy with wedding stuff, and I'm supposed to work with Scott.” She looked toward the fortress, a frown marring her forehead. “Unless he's decided to skip today's session.”

Astrid would much rather drive the women into town than deal with whatever complicated situation Scott and Irja had landed themselves in. Although Irja seemed clueless, so maybe Scott was the only one who had to come to terms with his feelings. Whatever. As long as she didn't have to deal with it, she was happy.

Driving. Women. Clear and uncomplicated, just the way Astrid preferred her life to be.

“Oh,” Irja said. “Leif doesn't want any of us out on our own, so you're to take Ulf with you.”

Mother of Valkyries. That threw uncomplicated way out the window.

* * *

Astrid was impressed. Ulf had managed not to utter a single sarcastic or nasty word to her during their entire outbound trip. That was mostly because he hadn't actually said anything while he drove the black Escalade through the streets of Pine Rapids. Not that Astrid blamed him.

He'd already been in the driver's seat when the women entered the car. In an attempt to lessen their anxiety, he'd said a few words in Spanish and given them a gentle smile. They'd shrunk back in terror. After that he'd kept his silence, his jaw clenching tighter and tighter as he drove. He'd stayed in the car while Astrid escorted the women to their rooms and spoke with the organization's personnel. She'd given each of the women a prepaid cell phone with hers, Irja's, and Naya's numbers preprogrammed. Camila especially had promised to stay in touch.

Now that Astrid and Ulf were on their way back, she braced herself for the eruption of anger that was bound to happen in five, four, three…

“I'm glad we killed those fucking monsters at the farm, but I want to get the fuckers in charge.” Ulf turned to her briefly before focusing on the road again. “They don't deserve to live after treating women like that.”

She murmured her agreement. It didn't matter what she said. Ulf was on a rant, so he wasn't really looking for input.