It was like waking to spring after a never-ending and difficult winter. The wind had settled, the snowmelted, and the sun had come out to wake the land. She was the land, and Bjorn was the sun. They fit together. There was no awkwardness. No hesitation. Just passion and need and love.
“Bjorn.” She said his name again because she could, because he was here with her. His strong arms trembled as they held her.
He dragged his tongue over her lips. First the lower, then the upper. Desperate for more, she parted them in silent invitation. When he thrust deep, she met him stroke for stroke. It was all so familiar, yet somehow new. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she held him close, afraid if she let go, he’d disappear and she’d discover this was nothing more than a fevered dream.
He pulled back, chest heaving, eyes closed. “We need to leave.”
She glanced toward the mouth of the alley. The men were still lying there. One of them groaned. “Do you have somewhere we can go?” She still had no idea where she was, but that worry paled in the face of the miracle of finding her husband.
“Yes.” He buried his face in the curve of her neck and squeezed her tight.
Pain rocketed down the arm she’d tucked against him. She flinched but tried to hide it.
“What the fuck?” He sniffed the air and zeroed in on the source of her pain. “You’ve been shot?”
“I’ve been what?” Blood seeped from a wound on her upper arm. One of her attackers had pointed some kind of weapon at Bjorn. It was powerful if it could harm an opponent from a distance. She’d heard of guns but had never seen one until tonight.
“It’s nothing.” She’d been through worse. “Wrap it. We can’t stay here.” The need to be somewhere safe and alone with him was more urgent than any injury.
Then she asked the question she’d wanted the answer to since she’d been cast out of the void. “Where are we?”
Bjorn lifted her off his lap. She immediately missed his heat, his solid presence against her. Oblivious to her unease, he was busy removing his short-sleeved shirt and ripping a piece from it. He folded the rest into a pad and pressed it against the wound. She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying aloud, not knowing if the men who’d confronted her had friends nearby. Then her husband wrapped the smaller strip around the pad, making sure it was secured.
Her husband.
It didn’t seem possible.
“Is this Odin’s Hall in Valhalla?” She’d never been there. Wherever she was, there were no traditional buildings or clothing in sight.
The pants Bjorn wore looked comfortable. They were very formfitting, emphasizing his heavily muscled thighs and narrow waist, and lovingly cupping his manhood. She liked them quite a bit.
“No, this is New York City.”
“New York City,” she repeated. “In the New World?” She’d heard mention of this place from some of the more recent arrivals to the afterlife but hadn’t paid too much attention, never expecting to end up here. This was not their home or their people. Maybe that explained her attackers. They’d find no friends here.
His eyes widened and then narrowed. “Yes. How do you know that?”
Anja swallowed hard and ignored his question in favor of her own. “How is that possible? Why are you here?”
And how had she gotten here?
“It’s a long story.” He stood and offered her his hand. She took it and was pulled to her feet. “And that’s only the tip of the iceberg.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. “Tell me, Bjorn. I need to know.”
A shudder wracked his big body when she said his name. Her husband was a huge man, a skilled warrior, one feared by all but his family. With her, he’d always been different, showing her a softer side he hid from all others.
“You’ve been gone for centuries.”
She knew he was right. Time flowed differently in the afterlife, but she’d been gone a long time.
He tugged her forward, and they moved past the unconscious men. The sight that met her eyes was more than she could fully comprehend. There were tall buildings for as far as the eye could see. And lights, so many lights. The road was a solid slab of rock; so was the piece they were standing on.
Her head spun and the world began to grow dark. Had the void come to retrieve her? To suck her back into the nothingness?
She clutched her husband’s arm, her entire body shaking. “Don’t let it take me.”
“Let what take you?” His big body was tense, alert for any danger. She could finally rest. Bjorn would watch over her until she was back on her feet.
The wondrous place she found herself in, this New York City, faded from view. The blackness swallowed her whole.
…
Bjorn caught Anja up in his arms and cradled her against his chest. His mind was whirling. He was afraid to blink for fear she’d disappear. This was a miracle. The terror in her voice had him on alert, his senses jacked up.
A low growl broke from his chest and shook the ground under his feet. His wolf wanted to maim the men who’d dared accost her. He shrugged off the urge and walked away, holding his precious burden close.
He had no idea how much blood she’d lost, if the gunshot was her only serious injury. Her left hand was wrapped as well. He’d been so caught up in the moment, so shocked from finding his wife, all else had faded from his consciousness.
Nothing was more important than getting her to safety. And right now, the most secure place in the city was Maccus Hunt’s apartment.
“Fuck the cameras.” Putting on a burst of speed, he raced through the streets, keeping to the shadows. If there were any images, he’d have Asher hack whatever system they were in and get rid of them.
Air flowed around them filled with the stench of the city—exhaust fumes, trash, human sweat and perfume, food of every variety. But overlaying all of it was the scent of his woman.
So many nights he’d lain awake, cursing himself that he could no longer remember her unique fragrance. It was a mixture of warm woman combined with mint, thyme, and other spices she used for cooking. It was the smell of home.
He slowed when he arrived at his destination. Avoiding the main entrance and security cameras, he went around to Maccus’s private door and slapped his hand on the security panel. “Let me in or I’ll break it down.”
The light changed from red to green. Bjorn shoved the door open. It slammed shut behind him as he made his way across the garage. The elevator was already waiting, the door ajar. It slid shut when he stepped inside.
Now that they were relatively safe, he allowed himself to really look at her. The bright lights of the elevator illuminated every inch of the woman in his arms.