Erika
I look like a damn fool.
Erika strode into the extravagant ballroom convinced that, had it not been for the hours and hours Freya had forced them to face the battering elements on the shores of Valhalla, she could not have found the strength to walk in heels.
Her eyes had bulged out of her head when Caitlyn held out the navy dress as if Erika should have known exactly what to do with it. Despite the world thinking that Valkyrie warriors strutted around in armoured skirts and tiny bras covering their breasts, Erika had always worn clothing befitting a Valkyrie general. This flimsy material had nowhere for her to store any weapons. Not that she needed them of course; Erika could disable an opponent with her bare hands.
Upon entering the room, Erika balked at the sheer indulgence of it all. Not even the great throne room of Odin in Asgard bore this much flair. The lights twinkled against the chandeliers like diamonds against moonlight, but it meant nothing to her. The only gems she liked happened to be embedded into the hilts of dangerous blades.
She stayed off to the side, catching a glimpse of Ricky as he smiled at various woman who turned in his direction. It’s not that Erika wasn’t friendly, but with her training, she lacked the ability to be charming—a commodity Ricky had in droves.
“The object of this mission, Erika, is to attract attention, not scare it away.”
“Go deep-throat a cactus,” she snarled in retort as the warlock chuckled in her ear.
Ricky’s comment about her scowl hit home. She had a job to do. Perhaps not the job she had been born to do, but a job nonetheless. Erika allowed the corners of her mouth to lift into a small smile, but that seemed to frighten the pesky human males a little more.
If Erika were being perfectly honest with herself, she had come to like this job. Working with P.I.T. was an experience. She felt valued as a member of the team. Sometimes as Ever’s general, Erika’s main purpose had been to step in front of any blade meant for the Valkyrie queen. She may have commanded an army of warriors, but she felt stilted by the centuries-old, goddamn curse. Not that Erika hadn’t tried taking things into her own hands—she had the scars to prove it.
Erika blinked, her heavy eyelashes pressing against her cheeks as she inhaled. How human women put these fake lashes on every single time they go out, I have no idea.
A waitress passed by, offering her a glass of bubbly champagne with a strawberry inside. In order to look the part, Erika grasped one in her fingers. She never raised it to her lips, simply surveyed those around her, sussing out who might be a stone-cold killer.
Her eyes wandered over to a figure in a slate grey suit. The garment was tailored perfectly to fit the man. Tall and lean, Erika couldn’t help but admire the curve of his butt. She blinked her eyes once more, and when she opened them he was still there. Good. She wasn’t imagining things.
As if he felt the weight of her stare on him, the man turned around. Erika groaned inwardly as the bane of her existence sauntered towards her. The cocky grin plastered on his exquisite features made her want to punch him.
The moment Loki glided up to her, an unmistakable aura slithered over her, heating her skin and getting her back up.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she spat at the god of mischief, her champagne glass slamming down on the table to her right, drawing a few curious glances. The grin that spread across his perfect face kicked at her heart, and she chided herself.
“Well, aren’t you a little ray of pitch black. Honestly, General, would it kill you to smile?”
Panic flared inside Erika, but Loki continued to smile. “Don’t worry, Erika,” he purred, his voice sounding like chocolate to her senses, “I’ve masked the sound so your friends listening in won’t hear anything except you shamelessly flirting with me.”
Her hands fell to her hips.
“Come now, General. Can we not just enjoy each other’s company? You never allow yourself to be alone with me.”
That’s because I lose all my common sense when you’re around and want to just jump your bones.
The way his lips kicked up even further confirmed he could read Erika’s mind, and she instantly slammed up her shields. She’d relaxed too much with Donnie being AWOL, her defences against mind reading dropping.
He held her gaze, and Erika was certain she could see galaxies in the turquoise of his eyes. As she watched, he traced the tip of his tongue over the full pout of his bottom lip. He was teasing her, tempting her, leading her along the merry dance they had danced for millennia.
There was something about him.
Something about the way he watched her.
Erika made to slip around him, her back already against the wall, when Loki stepped into her, pressing himself closer.
“I must say, General, this dress is by far my favourite of your attire. Though, I did find you quite fetching in the fifties, all dressed like a gangster’s moll.”
Loki leaned in towards her ear, his breath a hot swirl of temptation on her skin. Erika’s eyes fluttered as Loki’s fingers danced over her hair. “I like your hair,” he whispered. “Can I have a piece?”
Gathering her wits, Erika slid her hands up his ribs, pressing her palms firmly against the muscle of his chest. With a gentle shove, she tried to put as much distance between herself and Loki as possible.
“We all know about your hair fetish, Loki,” she chided. “No need to remind us.”
Tilting his head to the side, he sighed. “You steal a girl’s hair once. Once. And if you recall, I did return it. Lady Sif forgave me… eventually.”
Human histories liked to mythologise them, weaving their stories with half-truths to appeal to those who liked fairy tales. Sometimes they got it right, while other times they got it completely wrong. Take Freya, for example—the human mythologies painted her as the goddess of love when, despite holding that title, Freya happened to be bloodthirsty and vengeful.
Loki, however, lived up to most of the stories told about him. The tale in which he had snipped off his sister-in-law’s hair because he’d been bored was one of those truths. Nowadays, profilers would study Loki’s behaviour, eager to find an explanation for his actions. But Loki was simply Loki; he liked to revel in mischief and mayhem.
“But I would never cut away any of that sensuous hair. I’m looking forward to fisting it in my hand when I take you.”
Erika waved off his comment, trying to ignore the quivers she felt in all the places her body yearned for Loki to touch. She hated herself a little bit for feeling this way about him. As if sensing her discomfort, Loki ran his thumb across her bottom lip before lifting it to his own mouth and sucking on it. It was the most erotic, yet infuriating thing she had witnessed.
“I’m not as bad as the books say, you know.” There was no mistaking the hint of sadness in his tone.
“Narcissistic, evil, and a general pain in the ass.”
“Oooh.” He shuddered. “Name calling—so fearsome.”
Erika let go of a breath, shaking her head. “Why are you such an ass?” The words slipped free from her lips before she could stop them, but they packed no punch.
Loki shrugged, a boyish glint in his eyes. “Everyone has to excel at something, right?”
Placing her face in her hands she gave a small scream of frustration before shaking herself out and looking at him again. “Be serious, Loki. Why are you here?”
“If I told you, then you would only mock me.”
“Try me.”
He rubbed his chin, considering her, a bright spark of intelligence vivid in eyes of tropical seas. “I’ve been watching from the shadows over Ever… and you. I knew you would be uncomfortable tonight and felt the need to prove to you just how ravishing you look.”
Erika raised an eyebrow. “Are you shitting me?”
“No.”
“Loki,” Erika began, “you know my loyalty is to Ever first. My life is given to Ever first. I cannot spend what may be the last days my queen walks this world being a teenage girl with you. I don’t have the luxury.”
Her mouth had gone dry, and she yearned for a stick of gum now to focus on.
“You have spent a long time, Erika, being my sister’s keeper. It has blurred the lines of love and responsibility. I understand your confusion, but Ever is not the person you are destined to be with.”
Her cheeks heated. “And I suppose you are?”
“I could be, if you would only let me in.”
“You are an infuriating man.”
Straightening to his full height, Loki reached out with his right hand and braced it on the wall, his palm flattened, his arm blocking her escape. “Tell me, Erika. If I were a man who bowed down to your every whim and rebuke, would you find me so appealing?”
She gave him a flat look, her heart thudding as he narrowed the distance between them so that his nose almost grazed hers.
“That’s what I thought.”
Quick as lightning, Loki pressed his full lips against hers, heating the blood in her veins at the slightest of touches. Unable to help herself, Erika tilted her head further, but Loki pulled away before the kiss could continue.
“Just enough to keep you interested.”
“Asshole.”
Loki stepped back, holding out his hand. “Dance with me?”
Erika shook her head. “I don’t dance.”
“Take a chance, Erika. You never know what could happen.”
Reason and logic waged war inside her mind. This was a bad idea. Softening to Loki was a terrible idea. Encouraging him was even worse. But her will of steel against his charms was wearing thin. Loki had hammered away at her defences, and Erika was powerless to stop it. There was still so much to do. How could she protect Ever if she succumbed to Loki?
“I can see the wheels of obligation turning in your mind. Dance with me, Erika. Dance with me and pretend the world doesn’t exist,” Loki pleaded with her.
She knew she shouldn’t. She knew this could be her undoing. But he gave her a coy smile, and her heart thudded.
Erika took Loki’s outstretched hand, and he yanked her in close. He waited a moment, as if he expected her to run, but Erika simply rested her head against his chest, allowing Loki to sway them both to the music that had magically gotten louder. She could feel his heartbeat through his clothes and delighted in the way his pulse raced.
He’d been right. In that moment, her body flush against his, the whisper of possibility in the air, Erika forgot the world, concentrating only on how good it felt to be in Loki’s arms. It had been such a long time since anyone had regarded her as anything other than a general or a Valkyrie warrior.
“Erika.”
Her name was a husky sound from his throat, and she hesitated to look up at him. The fear of losing herself in him was immense—yet another reason why she had spurned his advances in the past.
“Erika, look at me.”
Lifting her head at the command, she drowned in the vastness of his eyes.
“She will prevail. We will not lose her.”
“I don’t want to think about that. I have lost her many times before, and it only gets harder. Please, Loki, if this thing between us is more than a fleeting amusement for you, please don’t allow this to happen. Break the deal and save her life.”
Wrapping his arms around her, he replied, “If I could prevent the sadness that fractures your heart and takes her away from us I would. But once a deal is brokered and accepted, there is no going back. Believe me, I do all that I can.”
“She needs to speak the words aloud.”
“I know.”
The music ended, and Loki unwrapped his arms from around her. Erika braced herself for him to capture another kiss. When he pressed his lips to her forehead, she sighed. Perhaps, now that he had sated his curiosity with a kiss, Loki no longer wanted her.
“I will never stop pursuing you, even when you eventually give in.”
Loki began to walk away, giving Erika a sneaky glance over his shoulder and a wink before he seemed to vanish into thin air.
Her pulse returned to a normal thrum, and common sense rang alarm bells in her mind. Erika would like to blame Loki and his mind tricks, but she had taken his hand, she had allowed him to kiss her and weaken her defences.
“Erika, are you there? If you don’t reply, I’m coming in.”
Boyband’s voice shook free the cobwebs.
“I’m here, Boyband. Relax.”
“Relax? Your com went down and we had no picture. It’s back now.”
“In the future, try and make sure the equipment is working properly.”
She could almost envision Derek’s head exploding down the com. It brought a smile to her face.
Lingering in the corner, she spotted Ricky heading back into the room via a door that led outside. He spotted her, gave a brief nod, and headed in her direction.
“Hello, darling. Having technical issues?”
Erika roamed her gaze down to Ricky’s trousers. “I’m sure you’ve had that problem many times before.”
“Bitchy. I like it.”
“Can we get out of here yet? My feet are screaming at me.”
People began to pair off as the two of them took a quick scope of the room. The crowd had thinned. They’d get nowhere tonight. If the killer were here, he certainly knew how to stay out of sight.
“Head back here for debriefing. Ricky, I need to get your thoughts on Katherine Smyth.”
They made their way out of the hotel and into the brisk night air. Shivering, Erika held back a flinch as Ricky shirked free of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
“I’m a gentleman,” Ricky replied to her sceptical glance. “Well, eighty-nine percent of the time.”
As soon as they entered the apartment complex, Erika slipped off the hellish heels and strode barefoot into the apartment. Derek sat slumped where they had left him, his eyes suspicious as Erika looked his way.
“What happened in there, Sands? It was like there was interference.”
“Hell if I know, Doyle. As I said, check the equipment in the future.”
Erika walked over to the window ledge and hunkered down—as much as the dress would let her, anyway. Out of the corner of her eye, she studied Derek and Ricky as the wolf asked if Ricky were okay. A haunted expression took over the warlock’s features for a moment before his jovial guise snapped back in place.
I guess I’m not the only one with issues here.
Closing her eyes, Erika allowed herself to think back on the feeling of Loki taking her in his arms, pressing his lips to hers, and saying all the right things. Thinking on what he’d said about her confusing her duty and her feelings for Ever, it made her cheeks heat.
Ever had given her a purpose in life, a reason for existing. She remembered the night, many, many nights ago, when Ever had cemented Erika’s fate with her own.
Erika stifled a sob; the sound of her mewling would carry across the waves and bring the wrath of Freya down on her. Brushing her hand across her mouth, she wiped the blood from her split lip as the waves crept up to kiss her toes. The wounds would heal. She was a Valkyrie in training, and taking a beating was all but required. Yet, the fact that her new systirs teased and ignored her; that was the part that cracked her heart.
From the day her mother had left her on the shores of Valhalla to be trained by Freya, the entire colony had made fun of her size. Erika might not have been as imposing as her systir Danae or as calculating as Rebekah, but she was lightning quick.
Her speed had made it easier for her to trip her systirs in training, knocking them down without having to strike a blow. This had angered them and induced the beating that had only ceased when a guard had stumbled upon them.
Now, as she sat in the sand, mere years into her immortal life, the waves of the great ocean beckoned her forward. A bone-deep sadness drenched her, and Erika felt she would never be strong enough, deadly enough, or bloodthirsty enough to be a valuable member of the Valkyrie army. A runt—that is what Freya had deemed her.
“Why are you sitting in the sand by yourself? Past curfew, no less.”
The voice snapped her head up, and Erika found herself face to face with the future queen of the Valkyrie. Though young, the princess was strikingly beautiful with hair so fair some called it the colour of sunshine and eyes as blue as the ocean.
As Erika made to rise, Ever sank down into the sand beside her, their shoulders touching. Erika ducked her head. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. Forgive my appearance. It is not proper to be in your presence like this.”
“Pfftt. Call me Ever. I hate all this princess stuff. We are to be systirs; we are to be friends.”
“I’m afraid I do not know what it is like to have a friend.”
A nudge to her shoulder. “Then you and I, Erika, shall be the best of friends. And when it comes to choosing who should stand by my side and be my general, my best friend shall be the one.”
Shaking her head in shock, Erika lifted her gaze to meet that of her future queen. “I am not strong enough to be general, and I fear I never will be.”
Looking at her with an intensity that bored into her soul, Ever replied, “You are strong of heart and soul. Together we will become stronger. Here.” Pulling a blade from her waist, Ever sliced her palm open without a flinch.
Erika copied her actions, slicing the blade down her own palm and ignoring the sting of the cut.
The queen-to-be clasped Erika’s palm in hers and said, “Systir of my blood, together we are bound, together we will rise. Nobody can strike one without striking the other.”
Magic pulsed in the air, and Erika gasped. Her fate was now sealed in the mingling of blood and the promise of a queen Erika was determined to become strong enough to walk beside.
Erika forced herself out of the memory. Her fellow agents were packing up, so she went over to help them, ignoring the sinking feeling that she had failed to become strong enough to protect Ever… and that the choice Ever had made on the shores of Valhalla would come back to bite them both in the ass.
Oh, the power. The immense energy that sang from their bones made his hunger worse. But even more tempting was the lust that mingled with their powers. It made them perfect for him to feast on. They had no idea he was watching them, the warlock and the pretty girl with the sun-kissed skin.
He hungered for them, watched as the dark-haired male suffered an outburst of anger at the cat shifter. The warlock’s emotions had been a heady cocktail, but he wanted more than a drink. He wanted to hear the man scream while he sucked the power from him.
The girl, she was different. He didn’t know what she was, but her aura was out of this world. He lost her for a moment as she disappeared into the shadows with a man whose aura he did not like, but no matter.
“I have to have them,” he said. “I have to have them both.”