Again, he wondered why she was out here, seeking someone out. And who was that someone? Probably a guy, judging from how hellbent she seemed on finding them. What else would explain spending this kind of money and time cavorting about the bush, flying and driving all over, searching aimlessly without direction or address or coordinates, or anything.
Could be she was a stalker-type. Maybe she was pregnant and seeking her baby-daddy. For what might have been the hundredth time, he reminded himself her plans were none of his business. She’d paid a pretty sum. He’d seen the invoice. Maybe if he could get his wolf off his back after he dropped her off for lunch at the cabin, he could go to the bunker and read the file on her.
Despite all those thoughts, there was something attracting him to her in a fierce way. A fierce, pull her hair, take her hard kind of way. Asa shoved that train of thought aside before his body let her know where his mind had traveled.
He nosed the Hummer into the snow-covered driveway and put it in Park, got out, and grabbed the door for her. “I’ll get your duffel.”
“I got it.” She reached around him and grabbed the bag before he could get it.
What did she have in there? He already knew it was heavy. His mind went to weapons first. Was she going to kill someone? Should he be concerned? The need to check out her file and maybe do a quick search on her became even more pressing.
He opened the cabin door, handed her the key, then gave her a quick rundown. “Fridge. Fixings for sandwiches. Restroom. Bed up there.” He pointed to the loft area.
She set the duffel on the counter between the kitchen and the living area in the open floor plan. “Thank you.” She didn’t take the glasses off.
What was up with her and sunglasses? Was she hiding a shiner behind those mirrored lenses? Was she up here to kill the guy who gave it to her? His imagination was getting carried away with—
His wolf surged forward, demanding control, reaching for the knives in the butcher block. He closed his eyes tightly, clenched his fist, and forced it back to his side, fighting the wolf and struggling against the compulsion to seize his head and squeeze as the wolf dug claws into his mind.
Finally, he overcame the urge to get the knife and held the wolf at bay enough to open his eyes.
She watched him, contemplation and consternation on her face. “Are you okay?”
“Migraine.” That was the best he could come up with, though he had no clue how migraines actually affected one, other than being painful. He turned toward the front door. “How about an hour or so for lunch? I’ll be back to get you for some more searching.” He found himself wondering if she’d want to continue the search after dark but didn’t want to ask. In case she thought the day would end at sunset, he didn’t want to give her any ideas he’d be willing to keep going throughout the night.
“I don’t need a full hour. I can be ready in fifteen.”
“Yeah, I need the hour. See you soon.” He closed the door behind him and made his way to the Hummer.
First order of business, calm the damned wolf down. Somehow.
Second order, look into Autumn Emerson.
Chapter Four
Emme stared at the door Asa Wulfsen had closed behind him. How odd. For a second, she’d thought he was going to reach for the knife. Her instinct had kicked in, muscles tightening, pulse shooting up, adrenaline surging.
And then, suddenly, he clutched his head, then froze. Although not one prone to migraines, she was pretty sure having one didn’t involve reaching for a weapon. She wondered if she should call the number she’d used to get a hold of WW Limited and ask for Davin. Maybe this guy Asa wasn’t part of WW Limited. Maybe he was an imposter. Or a fired employee, or someone impersonating the real Asa Wulfsen.
Whatever he was, he was sexy, hot, gorgeous, and there was no doubt she was attracted to him. Again, under different circumstances, she’d already be naked and having a few hours of uncommitted sex with him. Could she stop at uncommitted? He didn’t seem the kind to walk away from easily. She imagined his body without clothing, all the muscles rippling, sweat dripping—
Damn. She fanned herself, and it wasn’t even hot. At least, the temperature wasn’t.
Her stomach growled. She had an hour before he returned. She’d grab a sandwich and go through her arsenal. Put together her personalized crossbow, a weapon she’d had custom-made by one of the guys at Straker Crossbow. It fit nicely on top her forearm, carried specialized bolts she’d crafted herself. Bolts made of an enchanted metal alloy designed to be used on berserkers. The metal was called Freyja’s Redemption. Word had it that it had been charmed by the original Freyja herself before she vanished from the face of the earth.
Yeah, first the sandwich. She slapped together some maple ham and white cheddar and placed it between pillow-y slices of potato bread. Two sandwiches, that should do it. She dug around in the fridge and found a gallon of milk, poured a glassful, and reached for a bag of Lay’s potato chips. Munching, sandwich in hand, she walked around the cabin, checking it out. She opened curtains, letting the light in, enjoying the view from the back, the sun shining over the lake, the vestiges of winter in the trees. It would probably be melting soon. She could only imagine how beautiful this area was in the summer.
Too bad I won’t be here to find out.
Then again, she didn’t want to be here. She wanted to find Eira and take her far away where they could begin the next phase of their lives. She’d love to rejoin the sisterhood, though she doubted it would be possible, what with the Fist after Eira.
The sisterhood had left Houston not long ago after it became obvious the berserkers were on to them. Valkyries lived in small groups. Each group was called a sisterhood, and they were bonded by the rune tattoos they were born with on their necks. Each member of a sisterhood descended from the same sect and bore the same markings on their nape. Occasionally, for reasons Emme did not fully understand, different sects would do battle with one another, at times resulting in deaths. These were kept low key because they were punished by the Tribunal for killing one another. The Tribunal was composed of representatives from each sect and would determine laws, edicts, conduct trials.
There were several characteristics unique to Valkyrie. They took lovers. Not mates, not husbands. They gave birth to girls. They could only die by beheading. They had excellent weaponry skills and, in a one-on-one, could defeat any human males. Valkyrie left their mothers at age seven to be taken to a special school to study their arts—killing arts—and would return home one month every year for break and bonding with their families. The bonus to being a Valkyrie, one healed quickly.
There were four in Emme’s sisterhood. Her full-blood sister Eira, and two more, Hélène and Lina. Valkyrie were born with violet-colored eyes which would shift to black in the heat of battle. They were also born with red hair, of varying shades, though many Valkyrie were known to dye it. Eira never had, nor had Emme, though hers was a lighter shade of red than that of her sister’s.
She returned to her original thought of finding Eira and taking her somewhere. Chicago would have been nice, but seemed unlikely, now that the Fist had been set on her. The best Emme could hope for was to verify Eira was still alive and to warn her the Tribunal had ordered her death.