Chapter Fifteen

The next two days passed without incident, the pair settling into the daily routine with ease. Drive, speak, rest—rinse and repeat. The weather held true, blue skies and sunshine accompanying them along the way. Lucy didn’t have another episode, and everyone slept through the night, waking refreshed and ready for another day of travel.

Erik was surprised with his own reaction. After spending the better part of a year traveling alone and keeping away from others, it was startling to find himself relaxing and enjoying the present company. His bruises were fading fast, the beating from Matty now only an unpleasant memory.

Another morning had Mark and Erik taking the front two seats as they headed out on the highway. “I spoke to Lucy after lunch, asked her how she’s doing. She’s feeling good. Sleeping nights, no bad dreams. Your woman’s helping keep her settled.”

“She’s not my woman.” Erik kept his eyes on the road. “I keep telling you that. She doesn’t belong to anyone, much less me.”

“Right.” Mark glanced back at where Jake was napping in one row of seats, the three women behind him talking quietly to each other.

Erik studied the rearview mirror. Helen had pulled out her knitting and was busy showing Brenna a simple stitch, the bag of wool sitting between them. The big sack had drawn Brenna’s curiosity the first day out, Helen working on hats and gloves for friends, family, and charity.

Brenna balanced the needles, holding them like knives. Helen carefully adjusted them, gentling the grip as she spoke softly.

He couldn’t help smiling.

A Valkyrie. Knitting.

Somewhere Loki was laughing his ass off.

He checked the mirror again. This time he caught Brenna’s attention. She gave him a shy smile and turned back to Helen, fumbling with the needles.

Today they were stopping for a high school assembly in the afternoon, a break for both the students and for the travelers. Even though Erik wanted to keep moving, keep ahead of Kara, he found himself looking forward to the presentation.

As they pulled up to the building, Brenna frowned, seeing the teenagers mulling around in small groups. Some looked bored, some annoyed at having to be present.

“Don’t they have anything to do?” she asked.

Helen laughed and opened the door. “They’re doing it. Being young.”

She shook her head as they all tumbled out of the van. “I guess.”

The principal met them in the hallway, directing them through the metal detector and into the teachers’ lounge. It was empty, leaving them full access to the dark green couch and matching chairs.

“The kids will be ready in a few minutes.” He was a short, stout man with a hint of hair left on his head. “We’re really pleased you were able to stop in.”

“No problem.” Jake grinned. “Glad you could make time for us. I know we’re not bringing in cool tech like drones or holograms.” He held up Helen’s laptop. “If she can hook this up, we’ve got a great PowerPoint presentation.”

“You got it. Don’t worry about anything—you’re much better in person than any tech,” Mr. Helsman said. “Help yourself to the coffee and cookies.”

He went out and left them in the lounge.

“Man, been years since I was in a school.” Mark walked over to the bulletin board and scanned the official notices and posters. “Used to love the chess club.” He tapped one of the flyers. “Now they’ve got all sorts of games. Still got a soft spot in my heart for the classics.”

“You played chess?” Lucy asked.

“Sure.” He smiled at her. “Smart is sexy. How about I grab a travel board next time we see one and we’ll play a few games?”

“You’re on.” She laughed and made herself a cup of coffee. “But none of that speed stuff, playing on the clock. I’ll take my own damned time.”

Brenna edged closer to Jake as the pair started to discuss chess moves. “I don’t know why we’re here.” She glanced at Erik. “We don’t have anything to offer.”

He patted her shoulder. “Because leaving you two sitting in the van would be just plain impolite. Don’t worry, you and Erik aren’t saying anything. If you want to in the future, that’s fine, but this time just chill and watch us, give moral support. Sit on the folding chairs, look thoughtful, and we’ll run through our little speeches. Just me and Helen this time around—doing the old school wars.” He chuckled as Helen winced. “Vietnam and the first Gulf War. To these kids, it’s ancient history.” His voice dropped a bit. “You take it easy. No one’s going to make you do or say anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Jake turned away as the door opened, and Erik caught Brenna’s side-eye.

He flinched internally. Between Lucy’s breakdown and their focus on traveling, the right opportunity hadn’t come up yet to explain Brenna’s faux backstory. That wouldn’t last forever—Jake’s comment was sure to prompt questions.

The principal herded them through the hallways and on to the stage. About a hundred kids made up the audience, parents and teachers at the back of the auditorium. Their expressions drifted from bored and checking their phones to a handful who stared at the veterans like they were prehistoric creatures come to life.

Helen went about setting up her laptop, hooking it into the school’s audio video system to project images on the screen behind them. The ease with which she did so told Erik the older woman was familiar with the hardware and software involved.

Brenna and Erik took their seats at the far end of the row next to Lucy and Mark, almost off-stage.

The introductions went smoothly, the principal running through a polite speech before handing it over to the veterans.

Jake rose to his feet, launching into his own personal history as to how he ended up in Vietnam and what he experienced. Behind him, various still photographs cycled through, going from black and white to shocking color scenes of devastated villages and back to newspaper headlines, huge block letters filling the screen.

The man was a natural speaker. Erik found himself on the edge of his seat, threatening to tip the folding chair over as the older man wove the story of what he saw and went through as an infantryman. The narrative shifted to the time after his return—the discrimination, the public attitude toward him, and the way he suffered as a result—finding it hard to hold down a job, get any respect from those he’d sworn to protect. The efforts to get proper medical care, to get those benefits he was entitled to. The emotion in his voice had Erik blinking away tears, and he saw Helen dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. The teenagers, one by one, put down their phones, transfixed.

By the time Jake finished, they were all staring at him, enraptured and captured by the old vet’s story.

Helen leaned over to Erik, a proud smile on her face. “He’s always a hard act to follow.”

She rose and took his place, running through her own experiences during the Gulf War, serving behind the lines driving supply trucks. Her story was in some ways in direct contrast to Jake’s, the public’s support upon her return overwhelming. She detailed what she’d seen and experienced, the men and women she knew, and how the war changed them and their lives. The screen showed more recent images, all in color, following her time line.

Brenna put her hand on Erik’s leg, drawing him close. “I had no idea,” she whispered.

“About what?”

“That Jake had gone through so much…” She paused, pressing her lips together in a tight line, her forehead furrowed. “So much controversy for being a warrior.”

“It comes and goes,” he replied, thinking back to the drop-in center and Mike. “The price we pay for serving.”

Brenna looked over at Jake, who was now seated, his full attention on Helen as she strolled across the stage. The images on the screen had shifted from jungle warfare to desert scenes, the smiling troopers waving at the photographer as they flashed victory signs.

Something caught his eye, something at the far right of the auditorium.

Something out of place.

His pulse shot up as he scanned the crowd, searching for whatever had triggered his reaction.

There.

A blonde woman stood at the back of the room, her arms crossed as Helen continued her talk. She was staring at Erik and Brenna, all her attention focused on the pair. She shifted to the side, moving across the last row of chairs.

He squinted into the dark auditorium, his night vision disjointed due to the presentation still running.

Is it…

It’s her.

His stomach clenched up, tightening as he realized the danger.

You screwed up.

He started to rise off the chair, fingers pulled into fists as his mind ran through possible scenarios. How to intercept Kara, how to draw her away from the students, outside where their fight would endanger as few civilians as possible. Give Brenna a chance to break away.

He took a shallow breath, his heart racing.

The school was a soft target. Minimum security and possibility of maximum casualties if Kara went berserk, cutting through the crowd to reach him and Brenna.

This was the worst place possible for a confrontation. If they began to fight here and she brought out her lance.

The world narrowed as Erik focused on her, his thoughts racing. He tried to form a battle plan, but all he could think of was the desert, the explosion and seeing those he cared about torn to bits.

I’ve got to do something…

I’ve got to do…

I’ve got…

He couldn’t take a deep breath, only short huffs catching barely enough air to keep going.

Brenna’s nails dug into his thigh, the sharp pain slicing through the red haze circling his vision.

He jerked his head to one side, suppressing the urge to yell.

Don’t you see?

“I know what you’re thinking. But it’s not her,” Brenna said in a low, soft voice. “Look again.”

The blonde moved down the aisle, coming out of the shadows as she approached the front of the room.

Her grip increased on his leg, holding him in place.

“It’s not Kara,” Brenna murmured. “Trust me, I know my sister.” Her voice turned sharp. “Look at her, Erik.”

He blinked, the tunnel vision lessening with every flick of his eyelids as the rest of the world came back into focus.

The woman came fully into the light cast from the emergency exit signs, and Erik let out a long, deep breath.

Not Kara.

She had the same basic body type and hair color, but after that the similarity ended. The woman wore a white blouse, the top few buttons undone, a flowery scarf draped around her neck. She smiled at him and held up her cell phone, displaying his image on the bare-knuckle fighting website.

A fan.

Mentally he kicked himself, flashing back to their brief stop in Las Vegas and the headache he’d had in the casino, the sense of foreboding. He wasn’t ready yet to say it was anything other than a coincidence, having no proof Kara had been anywhere nearby, but he’d felt fine during the presentation.

Brenna’s grip on his thigh eased up as he sat back down, forcing himself to relax.

Jake leaned in. “Seems you’ve got a few admirers.” He gestured out to the audience where some of the students were also staring at Erik, their fingers dancing over their phones. “Should have known I wasn’t the only fan.”

“Fuck.” It was all Erik could think of saying. “They’re going to paint us up like lasers.”

Brenna frowned. “What?”

Helen finished speaking and the crowd burst into applause, rising to their feet.

Erik did the same, choking back his growl.

“I just sent up a big flare, telling Kara exactly where we are.”

…

The gaggle of students didn’t take long to work through, some of them demanding a selfie with the fighter. Erik couldn’t think of a reason to deny them—saying he didn’t want to do it because he was being hunted by a Valkyrie would earn plenty of attention. Complying gave him some control over the situation. He told them he was resting up due to injuries, showing off the almost-healed bruises to explain why he was traveling with the troupe. A few of the young women giggled as a few of the men stepped away to demonstrate their own fighting techniques.

The principal stayed close, arms crossed and watching the students intently for any signs of someone going too far and causing a scene.

Brenna stood nearby as the teenagers swarmed around and bragged about the fights, thrilled with having met Erik in real life. He worked his way through the small group then dealt with Kara’s look-alike.

Up close Erik admitted Brenna was right—the resemblance was faint, barely enough to make a mistake in a crowd. But his hypersensitivity had kicked in, and he wasn’t about to apologize for staying frosty.

The woman turned out to be one of the school’s history teachers as well as a rabid fighting fan, recognizing Erik from afar. She waited until the kids had moved on before sliding in, taking a slew of photographs with her cell, with and without her in the picture.

She smiled and gave him her phone number and address. “Next time you’re in town, I’d love to have you do a talk for my class. Maybe demonstrate some of those moves.”

It was obvious by the way she wetted her lips while handing the note over she wanted a private exhibition.

In another time and place, he might have taken her up on the offer. But not now.

“Thanks,” Erik said with as much politeness as he could muster. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

The teacher moved off with one last wink, returning to her students.

Erik looked around, seeking a way out of this disaster of his own making. The embarrassment of almost launching himself at the woman was offset by the fact he’d tipped his hand to their travelers. The initial explanation of why they’d sought to travel with the group wasn’t going to be enough, not now.

Another crowd had formed around Jake and Helen, more interested in their battle experiences than talking to a washed-up cage fighter. Mark hung off to one side with Lucy, chatting to the teachers as they waited for the others.

It was a rousing success.

It was a horrifying failure.

As soon as he could escape the teenagers, Erik went to Brenna, shaking his head. “Damn it.” He lowered his voice. “I’m an idiot. The underground fighting, the matches are all online. These kids, these fans are hooked in. The second I stepped on that stage, it was inevitable this would happen.”

She touched his arm and nodded. “Don’t take this all on you. Hell, I didn’t think of it, either. And I’m the one who tracked you using those same damned websites. The good news is that it’ll take time for the word to spread and for her to get here—we’ll have to move and move fast.”

Her attention turned and focused on the blonde walking away. “She’s an interesting fan. I don’t recall seeing a lot of women at the fight.” The cool tone reminded Erik of a fighter sizing up possible competition.

He held back a smile. “It depends on the venue. Mostly we’re in bar basements, warehouses you don’t take your lady to—not if you want to keep her.” He shook his head. “I spotted her coming down the aisle, and all I saw was Kara. Thank God you pulled me back before I went at her. That would be hard for Jake to explain away, me attacking one of their history teachers.”

Brenna glanced after the retreating woman. “She looks…nice.”

The uptick in her tone on the last word burst across Erik’s ears, an emotional firecracker. He pulled the note out of his jean pocket and tossed it into a nearby garbage bin.

She frowned. “What did you do that for?”

Erik shrugged. “Not interested. I don’t need any more complications in my life. At least, not of the romantic type.”

“Oh.” A light blush tinged her cheeks. “I didn’t say… I see.”

“I’m alone. By choice.” He smirked, enjoying her discomfort. “Don’t be jealous. She’s not my type.”

“I didn’t say that,” she snapped back, her face still red. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

He leaned in, relief making him giddy. “I can think of much more interesting things to do with your mouth.”

She pressed her lips tightly together, her eyes wide.

Before she could gather herself together to form a response, Erik turned away, heading toward Jake. The crowd had moved off, the kids finishing their questioning and the teachers herding them out of the auditorium.

The older man glared at Erik. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the doors.

“We’ll talk at the campsite. No use getting into it here. Time to get moving.” His expression left no room for discussion.

Erik said nothing, falling in behind Mark and Lucy. All joking aside, there was about to be a reckoning for his overreaction at the presentation.

The decision about leaving the group might have fallen out of his hands.