Bjorn Cursed Page 9

  They reached their destination sooner than she’d hoped. She didn’t want to leave Bjorn, but he was counting on her. Without him having to prompt her, she dropped his hand. Legs pumping, braid thumping against her back, she ran faster than she ever had. All the while, she pushed on the button he’d told her to.

  Up ahead, lights blinked and a truck beeped. That had to be the right one.

  The numbers and letters on the back matched what she’d been told. Her breathing was labored, as much from the sprint as from fear. She reached for the door handle.

  A huge man dropped down from above, landing in a crouch on the sidewalk in front of her. “Not so fast, pretty lady.”

  The only weapon she had were the keys. They were short and sharp. She shoved several of them between her fingers and swung her fist, aiming for the man’s face.

  The action was so unexpected, the punch actually landed. One of the keys stabbed his eye, driving through the vulnerable area. He shoved her away, grabbed his face, and howled.

  …

  They’d have to fight their way out of here. Bjorn cursed the gods and werewolves alike. There was no way he’d be able to keep his secret now. Not with at least four wolves stalking them.

  A howl rent the air.

  Anja!

  He spun around and raced toward her with the other wolves hot on his heels.

  Like some avenging Valkyrie, she stood with blood dripping from her fisted hand. A werewolf crouched on the sidewalk, blood pouring from one of his eyes and pure hatred radiating from the other.

  “I’ll kill you, bitch,” the wounded male vowed.

  Animal instinct took over. The threat to his mate must be eliminated. Bjorn ran straight at the wolf rising to his feet.

  Before he could get there, Asher appeared seemingly out of nowhere, clamped his hands on the man’s shoulder, and shoved down. The werewolf might be bigger and broader, but he was no match for the powerful vampire. His knees slammed onto the pavement.

  “What are you doing here?” Bjorn demanded. The man on the ground was his. His wolf howled inside him, furious at being denied his prey. Bloodlust ruled. His vision narrowed, becoming keener. Claws unleashed, fangs flashed.

  “Thought you might need some help, and I was right. Aren’t you lucky I’m such a giver?” He inclined his head toward Bjorn’s claws. “You might want to put those things away before you hurt yourself.” When Bjorn didn’t comply, Asher sighed and lowered his voice. “Anja is watching.”

  Nothing could have pulled him back from the brink of disaster faster. She stood by the open door of the truck, a knife clenched tightly between her fingers. He recognized it as one he kept in the glove box. She found it and was prepared to stand and fight.

  Her face was as pale as the first snow of winter. Her lips were pressed into a firm line of determination. She was breathing much too fast. Blood stained her hand, a reminder she’d protected herself from an attack.

  Once again, he hadn’t been there, had let her down. Her hand trembled and the stench of fear permeated the air around her. Was she afraid of him now that she knew what he truly was?

  “Bjorn?” Her voice quavered. Her uncertainty was apparent, but likely only to him.

  It was more effective than a fist to the jaw to snap him back to reality. He willed his wolf into submission. With his hands on his hips, he sucked air into his lungs, driving back the fury that threatened to erupt.

  But seeing blood on her, knowing she’d had to defend herself, had brought out the killer inside.

  And now she knew.

  He was no longer the man she’d married. He was a monster. One he’d created with his own arrogance. He was no different than the men hunting her. Actually, he was worse, because he was the cause of it all.

  If he were a better man, he’d leave her with Asher for protection while he figured out a way to deal with the threat facing them. His wolf growled, enraged that he’d even consider such a thing. Both man and beast were in agreement. For better or worse, she belonged with him. No one would do more to keep her safe.

  The others hunting them approached with caution, their primal instinct finally kicking in, alerting them that there was more to Bjorn and the situation than they understood.

  As much as he longed to tear them all limb from limb, fighting wasn’t the best or safest option. He’d have to try to reason with them. Yeah, that was likely to work. They were as stubborn as he was.

  This was going to end badly.

  “Get in the truck, Anja.” He wanted her out of the direct line of fire. As it was, having her so exposed to danger was making him crazy. It had been centuries since he’d had to fight so hard to maintain control.

  “But—”

  “Not now,” he bit out between clenched teeth. “Get in the truck.”

  She muttered several profanities under her breath as she slipped into the front seat and slammed the door shut. He’d pay for that later. When they were married, she’d never let him get away with ordering her around, and she was even more independent now.

  He breathed a small sigh of relief before facing the men.

  “You’re like us.” It was the Good Samaritan from earlier. Bjorn had known he’d be trouble. “Why can’t I smell you?”

  “I’m not like you.” His voice was a guttural growl. No, he was something infinitely worse.

  “Come on, man. We can split the cash.” Four werewolves surrounded them, none of them seeming particularly concerned about their injured friend or Asher. Which once again proved their lack of intelligence.

  “Leave or die. Decide now.” He’d had enough of this. “Or start a war you cannot win.”

  “There are more of us than there are of you,” the Samaritan, who seemed to be spokesman, pointed out.

  “Enough.” Asher came to stand beside him. The wolf, now walking quietly beside him, was already healing. The bleeding had stopped, but it would take a while for the eye to fully regenerate.

  The vampire pushed his captive toward his buddies. Bjorn was actually surprised they caught him before he fell. Asher had put a little bit behind the shove.

  “You need to get out of the city,” he reminded Bjorn.

  “Not until I deal with this.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” the Samaritan asked Asher.

  “You’re worst nightmare,” he shot back. “That never gets old.” He grinned at Bjorn. The bastard was enjoying himself.

  “I can handle this.” He didn’t need some bloodsucker handling his business, even if he was a Brother and a friend.

  “I know you can, but I can do it cleaner. Do you have any idea how many eyes are likely on us right now? As it is, I’ll have to do some quick work when I get home.”

  “Shit.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. As much as it galled him, his friend was right. It was the one thing he hated most about the modern age—the fucking cameras everywhere.

  “You’re not going anywhere until we get the woman.” This guy didn’t give up. Was he really brave or just terminally stupid? Right now, he was going with the second option.

  His claws ached to come out. His wolf wanted this guy’s heart on a platter. Hell, his wolf wanted to kill them all and send them to whatever dark place existed for their kind.

  He threw back his head, jaw clenched, neck muscles straining as he fought to hold back the howl that wanted to erupt from his very core. That would likely bring every other wolf in the city to investigate. Not to mention that anomaly would likely attract Odin’s attention.

  He was the alpha wolf. His pack was every wolf that walked the world. He’d never claimed them, always kept his distance. That had been a mistake. Knowing Anja was watching gave him the strength to pull back, to contain his wolf. She was likely already freaking out without him adding to it.

  With himself under control, Bjorn opened his eyes and stare
d at the men, blasting them with the sheer power of his presence. All the wolves lowered their eyes, except for the Samaritan, who attempted to display dominance.

  It was so ludicrous, Bjorn smiled and flashed some fang.

  “Ah, as much as I’m enjoying this little display, we’re attracting attention.” Asher’s voice snapped him out of the need to challenge the other wolf.

  “If you’re smart, you’ll keep your mouth shut and pretend you never saw us.”

  The Samaritan smirked. “Not going to happen. I can get payment for information, too.” He started to back away, but came up short, as if he’d hit a wall.

  “That you?” Bjorn asked Asher.

  The vampire smiled. “Of course.” He took a step forward. “All right, gentlemen, everyone look at me.” In spite of their straining not to follow orders, they all looked at him. “I’m like the Men in Black. I need one of those Neuralyzers. Well, I don’t really need one, but it would be fun, just for show. I love that movie. Now, gentlemen, you will all go home. You’ll delete any messages about the woman and forget you ever saw it or her.”

  All the wolves nodded and walked away. All except the Samaritan. He fought the compulsion, the veins on his neck standing out from the strain.

  Bjorn walked over to stand in front of him. “My friend is a vampire. I suggest you not make him angry. I’m worse. If we weren’t in the middle of the city, you’d all be dead. So this is your lucky day.”

  “I’ve got this. I’m a bit peckish and could use a snack.” Asher licked his lips. Bjorn hid a smile as panic filled the werewolf’s eyes.

  “Thanks.” He hadn’t been sure he could depend on the Brotherhood, but they were proving him wrong. For the first time in centuries, he had hope. Anja was with him and he had friends helping him.

  “We’re Brothers.”

  With Asher’s words echoing in his ears, he walked around the back of the truck and climbed in on the driver’s side. Anja had the knife clenched in one hand and the keys in the other. He held out his palm.

  She handed him the keys, and he started the truck and pulled away. When he glanced in the rear-view mirror, there was no sign of Asher or the remaining werewolf. It was official—every werewolf in the world was hunting them. The smart ones would mind their own business, but there would be enough like the ones he’d just left behind.

  He’d always been the hunter, never the prey.

  He wasn’t about to change now.

  But the bigger battle had only begun, and it had nothing to do with the enemies searching for them. No, it had everything to do with the woman sitting beside him.

  He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Anja,” he began, but stopped, unsure what to say.

  Just drive. Getting out of the city was the top priority. He needed to get somewhere they could talk without interruption, where he could protect her. He aimed his truck toward the Washington Bridge.

  All his senses alert, he charted a course to the Adirondacks.

  …

  Freya was livid. One of her people had somehow managed to leave her hall in Folkvang and was now wandering around somewhere on Earth.

  And Odin, the bastard, had known for some time and hadn’t told her. If one of her loyal spies in Valhalla hadn’t come to her with the latest whispered gossip she’d still be in the dark.

  It wasn’t like she’d actually missed the woman.

  She had a vague recollection of Anja Knutson, not for the woman herself but for her son. Anja herself was little more than a faded memory.

  The course was clear—Anja Knutson had to be dragged back to the afterlife and banished. If Helheim wouldn’t have her, she’d have to wander the netherworld lost and alone forever. It was fitting punishment for daring to defy the will of the gods.

  A slow smile lit her face. It was time to summon her most deadly and loyal warrior.

  Chapter Ten

  Anja stared out the window, not seeing anything. The fact she was moving at such a fast speed for the first time in her life should have been exhilarating. She’d dreamed about such things, never believing she’d ever experience anything like it. The city, the people, the cars and trucks—none of it registered.

  As hard as she wanted to believe it had been nothing more than a trick of her eyes, she knew better. Claws had erupted from the tips of her husband’s fingers. Fangs had appeared in his mouth.

  He cast her worried glances, his hands gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles were white. Outwardly, Bjorn looked the same as he always had—big and tough and dangerous, a warrior in heart and soul. Sure, the lines were a bit deeper around the corners of his eyes, the expression in them more haunted, harder, but that was to be expected over time.

  “What are you?” It was cowardly to keep her attention anywhere and everywhere but on him, so she swiveled in her seat. Tension radiated from his big body. His shoulders were rigid, his lips pursed into a hard line.

  She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, stroke his face until all the worry bled away. Instead, she twined them together in her lap.

  “I’m the man you married.”

  “You’re not the same.”

  “Neither are you.” He maneuvered the vehicle into another lane. She wasn’t sure how he managed to pay attention to everything happening outside the truck as well as follow their conversation. He did it with an ease that came from experience.

  “What happened changed me.”

  “Anja—”

  “It’s not about right and wrong. We both did what we had to do to survive. You found your vengeance with Odin. I found salvation with the rebirth of our children and the knowledge you’d be safe. I thought it would be in Valhalla, not that you’d still be here.”

  “And what about you?” His tone dropped and sent a shiver racing through her. When he glanced in her direction, there was molten heat simmering in his eyes. That was something else that hadn’t dimmed, even with all the changes they’d been through and time that had passed. The passion between them always simmered below boiling, waiting to explode.

  “What about me?” She gasped when a car pulled right in front of them. Bjorn slowed the truck, not flinching. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to drive one of these things. Although it might be fun to try. She’d always loved an exhilarating ride on a horse. Or her husband, a naughty voice in the back of her head teased.

  “I worked in Freya’s Hall, as payment.” She shrugged and picked at her borrowed leggings.

  A low growl made everything in the vehicle vibrate, including her. Every hair on her body rose. She grabbed the edge of her seat and clung to it.

  “In other words, Freya made you a fucking slave to serve others.”

  “It kept me busy. I worked in the kitchen—prepping and distributing food. It gave me access to all the people living there. And a few were kind to me, answering any questions I had about the changes in the world, teaching me customs and new languages.” That had been the newer arrivals. The older ones treated her little better than a slave. “I was happy to be busy.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair before setting his hand back on the wheel. “You put everyone else first with no thought to yourself.”

  “I’m no martyr.”

  “No, you’re not.” His easy agreement smoothed down her hackles. “You’re a practical woman who does whatever needs to be done. I find you extraordinary.”

  “And you still have a silver tongue.”

  “Only for you, my love.”

  He pushed up a lever and there was a clicking sound before he changed lanes, pulling them to the right. “Tell me what happened.”

  He heaved out a breath. “I didn’t want you to find out this way or so soon.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not?” The incredulous expression on his face suggested he found her question idiotic. “Because I didn’
t want you to see me as a monster.”

  His quiet acceptance broke her heart. Then it pissed her off. “So you assumed I’d see you as a monster and then what? Scream and run away?” They’d both been through so much. Rediscovering each other, while a blessing, was extremely stressful. It emphasized that they didn’t really know each other anymore.

  That saddened her deeply and made her heart ache for what might’ve been.

  Then she put it away. Wallowing in grief or self-pity, dwelling on the past, would change nothing.

  He yanked the wheel hard to the right again. She was flung to the side, barely catching herself on the door as they left the flow of vehicles and ended up in front of a building. Bjorn slammed the truck to a halt, but the engine kept running.

  His eyes were cold as January ice from a frozen waterfall. “I’ve done so many things wrong in my life. The one thing I did right was you, and I fucked that up. So you’ll have to excuse me if I wanted to put off telling you I was a beast for as long as possible.”

  “This is hard for me, too. I don’t know what’s happening. I served breakfast in Freya’s Hall. Yesterday? Days ago? I have no idea how long I was trapped in that void.” She leaned forward and poked him in the chest. There was no give to the man. His muscles were as firm as he was stubborn.

  “And now I’m here, back from the land of the dead. I don’t know how I got here or what will happen. There are gods and other creatures trying to kill me. And my husband has fangs and claws.” She was talking faster and faster with each word she spoke, her breathing quickening. “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m overwhelmed by all of this.” She was yelling now and poking him in the chest again and again.

  Her tirade ended with her lungs heaving and her heart racing. He caught her finger, which she was still trying to drill into him.

  “You’re right.”

  That fast, he took the wind out of her sails. How could she be angry when he said things like that? “I am?”

  He sighed and stroked his fingers over her face. “I know this is all too much. I don’t need to add to your burdens. I should be focusing on what you want and need. Not on myself.”