Valkyrie's Vengeance_Loki's Wolves Read online

  A great whooshing sound accompanied a blast of air from St. Nick's great round belly, and he deflated rapidly. The same shot struck the store's window. Shattered glass rained down upon terrified pedestrians. Voices raised in shouts of confusion and fear. People scattered in every direction, running blindly into the street. Horns blasted, and several vehicles collided.

  "Victoria!" Jasper's frightened call carried over the shrieks of the crowd.

  "Jasper, get down!" Victoria swung toward the sound of the teenager's voice, desperately searching for him.

  "Sawyer! Stop!" Jake's shout cut through the din. The rest of his words were lost to the background racket.

  She caught a glimpse of Jasper running toward her, towering at his full height above the hunched crowd. Terrified for him, Victoria sprinted toward the teenager. Once she got close enough, she tackled him and wrapped both arms about his middle. Her momentum knocked him off-balance and toppled him over backward.

  Jasper landed flat on his back, gasping as he got the wind knocked out of him. She landed on top of his chest, and he cushioned her fall.

  No more shots rang out.

  She scrambled to her feet. Gambling precious seconds, she appraised their surroundings. People stampeded in all directions, many seeking shelter within stores. She'd lost track of Jake in the mayhem.

  Twisting her head, she searched for the shooter. After a second, she saw Sawyer Barrett, Daniel's brother, bearing down on them at a dead run. The hunter looked to be in the grip of blind fury. Violence etched the lines of his body, and he carried a drawn .45 Magnum.

  "Shit." Her heart slammed against her chest. She surged upright, intending to grab Jasper and run, but the hunter was already on top of them. Her action brought her gaze level with the muzzle of Sawyer's gun.

  She tilted her head back and stared into Sawyer's face. Overwhelming certainty filled her that her last sight would be his hard blue eyes, burning with animosity. Hatred distorted his handsome features into an ugly mask. "You die now, bitch," he grated. "For my brother–"

  A large, fast blur entered Victoria's peripheral vision. Then Jake tackled his son, knocking the younger man clean off his feet. Sawyer's arm jerked skyward, the firearm swung wide, and the .45 went off. The shot boomed.

  Around them, humans screamed and stampeded.

  Victoria grabbed Jasper's arm and hauled him to his feet. She spared the wrestling hunters the barest glance. She had no idea why Jake Barrett had stopped his son from killing her, and she didn't plan to hang around to find out. Getting Jasper to safety was her utmost priority.

  "What's happening?" Jasper asked, staring at the hunters with wide-eyed fascination.

  "Keep your head down," she ordered. Dragging Jasper behind her, she set off at a full run due east, dodging people and obstructions. She followed the side street until they reached a narrow alley behind the Western apparel store.

  Far fewer people occupied the sidewalk. If they continued to run in a straight line, any hunter with a rifle would have a clean shot at their backs. Yanking Jasper to the right, she shoved him into the alley ahead of her. Her hand slapped his shoulder. "Run!"

  "Victoria!" a man's familiar voice shouted.

  She cast a frantic glance over her shoulder at the man standing a few hundred feet behind her. She recognized Skinner, a hunter who worked with Jake. She knew the African American man as a passing acquaintance. Before his death, her father had often worked with the hunters who lived in the Phoenix metropolitan area. Acting in concert, wolves and hunters had tracked and slain vampires.

  Skinner stood with his arms held tense at his sides, his hand hovering above a holstered firearm strapped to his thigh. He was a large man on the high-side of fifty who looked like someone who broke people in half with his bare hands. Intricate tattoos covered his shaved scalp, neck, and arms.

  He had a clean shot at her. She wondered why he hadn't taken it.

  "Victoria!" Jasper hissed her name. The teenager remained safely within the cover of the alley but hadn't fled as she'd ordered.

  She caught movement from the corner of her eye and realized Jasper was easing closer. She bit back a curse. The teenager was once again placing himself directly in harm's way. If she delayed too long, he'd pop out into the open again. She didn't dare spare the boy an ounce of attention, not while opposed by such a renowned hunter.

  Tension vibrated in the air between them. Victoria held his gaze, well aware his eyes would betray his decision to act before he moved. Her breathing slowed. Primal energy coursed through her body, and muscles rippled beneath her skin. She gauged the distance, calculating her speed versus his reflexes. She wasn't sure she could cross the short distance before his gun cleared the holster. A silver bullet would kill her. In a fistfight, no human, not even a skilled hunter, stood a chance against a werewolf's strength.

  She'd never killed a real person. Only animals and monsters that sometimes looked like people. She wasn't sure she could start now even if her reluctance cost her life.

  "Running won't do you any good," Skinner said in a gravelly voice. "It'll go easier on you and what's left of your pack if you surrender."

  Her humanity fell away, and plush white fur pushed through the skin on the backs of her arms, but she retained her human form. A growl trembled in her throat, balanced on razor-sharp incisors. "Take care with how you threaten me or mine, Skinner. I don't want to hurt you, but I will to protect my pack. I'm not easily eliminated. Even if you kill me, I'll come back. I'm Freya's priestess and Odin's Valkyrie."

  "The irony is killing me," he said.

  She didn't understand his statement and lacked the time to puzzle it through. "I'm taking my charge and leaving."

  Skinner's eyes narrowed. A muscle in his jaw jerked. "Nothing is gonna stop Jake from finding out the truth."

  "Tell Barrett we can talk." She edged toward the alleyway, holding up a staying hand toward Jasper. She fervently prayed the boy would stay put and not get his dumbass shot. "I'll meet with him just as soon as he gets that crazed asshole under control."

  "That crazed asshole is his son."

  She clicked her tongue. "I know who Sawyer is."

  Skinner chuckled. "Yeah, I'll let him know."

  Victoria took his response as a dismissal. Time to go. Before Skinner changed his mind or Jake got through dealing with Sawyer. Determined to escort Jasper to safety, she ducked into the alleyway.

  Both hands splayed, she herded the teen ahead of her. "Hurry."

  He danced in a circle. "Victoria, that was Skinner, wasn't it? I've heard the stories. Is it true what they say about him?"

  She cut him off. "Yeah, that was Skinner. And yes, the stories are true. We're lucky to be alive. Now move before he changes his mind."

  "He got his nickname cause he skins–"

  "Enough." In an ill-tempered outburst, she delivered a psychic thump with far more force than she'd intended.

  Eyes wide, Jasper shut his mouth. His shoulders slumped.

  "C'mon." She gentled her tone. "Let's get back to the rest of the pack. We need to warn them hunters are in the area. Then we need to figure out how we're gonna save that little boy. Okay?"

  Jasper perked up. "Okay."

  Chapter 3

  Wary of being tailed by the hunters, Victoria traveled south for several blocks and then doubled back. Heading north, she located a drainage canal and left paved surfaces behind. Walking single file, they followed a southeast route across rough terrain and woodsy growth. Even on two feet, their movements were swift and silent, well adapted to the natural environment.

  Jasper remained uncharacteristically somber. After a half hour, the silence apparently became more than he could handle. The boy cleared his throat.

  Suppressing a smile, she mustered a stern tone. "Yes?"

  "Victory?" He pitched her nickname high, turning it into a question.

  "What is it, Jasper?" Ducking to avoid the bare branches of a bush, she cast a curious glance over her shoulder. "We're almost
there."

  He produced a sound in his throat, a cross between a cough and a huff. "I know that."

  She glanced heavenward. As much as she adored Jasper's bold, brash nature, there were moments when he drove her up the wall. Of course he does. Far be it for me to tell a teenage boy anything.

  Freya laughed. Victoria, be nice.

  I'm always nice.

  Except when you're not.

  "I smell coyotes," Jasper continued. "Are there shifters here?"

  "There's a band in the area." Victoria scented the smaller canines also.

  "Won't they be pissed that we're violating their territory?"

  "Maybe. Probably. Who knows what coyotes think?"

  Veering away from the creek, she trudged up the embankment. Generally, coyotes weren't a threat to their much larger cousins, but an entire band might just take on a lone she-wolf and a juvenile male if their den was threatened. She didn't want to risk straying too close to their home.

  Once they reached the top of the hill, they hopped a chain link fence and landed back on paved city streets. Aging apartment buildings, decaying commercial complexes, and houses with weed-choked yards composed the area.

  Jasper rotated in a slow circle, surveying their surroundings. From the distant, confused look on his face, he had no clue where they were.

  She took the lead. "This way."

  Once they joined up with the other members of their pack, the threat the coyotes presented lessened greatly. Unless the band was huge, they were no match for even her small werewolf pack. She hoped they were smart enough to continue hiding. She and her people had been in town for a day, and they didn't want any trouble. They planned to move on immediately.

  Departure grew even more urgent since hunters had found them.

  Freya's brightness touched her mind. The little boy needs your help, Victoria.

  I haven't forgotten Michael, My Lady. Can you tell me where he is?

  Perhaps.

  Images flickered through Victoria's mind. A cold, cavernous place that might have been a basement. Or a dungeon? Cages suspended upon thick chains hung from the ceiling. Sour dankness flooded her nostrils. The steady drip drip drip of water feeding stagnant puddles echoed through the emptiness. Most disturbing, the mewled cries of frightened children calling for help.

  Terrible dread coalesced in Victoria's gut. There's more than one child?

  I believe so.

  Who is the child thief?

  In response, Victoria received another nightmarishly surreal vision. A sinister figure that stood upright on ungulate legs and had many attributes of a beast. Flared horns. Black fur. Cloven hooves.

  She huffed. I'm hunting a giant goat?

  The stream of pictures stopped. I don't know what it's called. I'm sorry.

  Michael's still alive?

  For now. You must hurry, Victoria.

  "I'm hurrying."

  Glancing over his shoulder, Jasper shot her a curious look. "Are you talking to Freya?"

  Victoria bobbed her head once. Unfazed, he shushed. Her people knew her well. Her occasional, inexplicable outbursts were par for the course.

  They entered a poor residential neighborhood adjacent to an industrial district. A rubber recycling facility loomed over the surrounding area like the silhouette of a silent giant. Stacks of black tires rose higher than the ten-foot chain link fence that surrounded the complex. The dense column of black smoke indicated the presence of an active incinerator. Thick smog of tarry residue, pesticides, and other gasified toxins hung over the area. To their sensitive noses, the air smelled and tasted like death.

  "It stinks." Gagging, Jasper covered his nose and mouth and jaywalked across the busy street.

  Victoria followed without protest. Gathering her resolve, she broached the matter utmost on her mind. Goddess, why didn't you warn me Jake Barrett would be here today?

  She waited, but no answer was forthcoming.

  Goddess? At last, she sighed and shelved the matter. Freya wasn't obligated to provide explanations. Victoria's independent streak made blind obedience difficult. She'd been a priestess since she'd turned fourteen, but still she struggled with the obligation to maintain an unquestioning faith in her goddess.

  As they cut across a gas station parking lot, Victoria's phone rang. She dug the device from her pocket. The pack had taken to using cheap prepaid mobiles so they couldn't be traced. "Hello?"

  "We're gettin' antsy." Rand Scott's lazy Southern drawl filled her ear. "Where the hell are y’all?"

  "Turn around, worry wart."

  A few hundred feet away, Rand Scott, Victoria's second-in-command, spun on his prosthesis leg. Over seven feet in height and at a weight in excess of three hundred pounds, the enormous Beta wolf boasted a build like a grizzly. He bristled from head to toe with fiery ginger hair, including a thistle of facial growth that obscured his lips. His thick eyebrows formed a solid unibrow. Years before, his leg had been severed in a motorcycle accident.

  "Aww, hell!" Rand bellowed.

  Laughing, she waved and ended the call.

  Still holding his phone, Rand's hand dropped. His ruddy face skewed into a fierce scowl, but his light eyes gleamed with mirth. Allegedly, he was the runt of the litter. To hear him tell it, all four of his brothers were bigger and meaner. One was even the Alpha of a prominent pack. Yet for all his attempts to project a fearsome demeanor, the man had the disposition of a Labrador retriever.

  "Sorry we're late," she said, walking toward him.

  "About damn time," Rand grumbled. The molasses quality of his voice removed all the bite from his words.

  Jasper shot past Victoria, sprinting ahead. "We ran into hunters! We barely made it out alive. You won't believe..."

  Victoria muffled a snarl of irritation and continued at a sedate pace. She should have warned the teenager to let her break the news, but thoughts of the hunters and the missing boy had distracted her.

  Rand's head cocked inquisitively. "True story? You ran into hunters? Or is the boy just screwin' with us?"

  She shielded her eyes and peered up at Rand. "True story. Let's have everyone gather round so I can tell the tale once instead of several times. We're pressed for time. I'm gonna need everyone's help."

  Jasper's shout attracted the pack's attention. They gathered in the center of the convenience store parking lot that served as their temporary base of operations. With funds being so tight, the seven of them were living out of their two vehicles. Victoria performed a headcount and confirmed everyone was present and accounted for.

  Aside from herself and Rand, five others composed their group. Paul and Sylvie Thornton were a mated couple in their sixties. Sixteen-year-old Morena was a year and three months older than Jasper, but the girl never allowed him to forget it. Finally, pregnant gray wolf Sophia, the only non-shifter in their ranks.

  They assembled between the parked cars. Rand assumed a position to Victoria's right, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. She wasn't sure whether he did so deliberately, but she appreciated the display of solidarity. Aside from Rand, she didn't face any potential challengers for her position as Alpha from within the pack.

  Sylvie and Paul also stood. The Native American woman had a tall, strong stature and kept her gray hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. She acted as their Skald, the keeper of tradition, and was a devout follower of Freya. Her husband was a battle-scarred warrior who had lost a hand and a leg in conflicts past.

  Morena sat beside Jasper on the lowered tailgate of Paul's truck. The teenagers dangled their long legs, feet swinging frantically back and forth. Sophia also occupied the bed of the pickup. The gray wolf lay with her head resting on her front paws. She had lost her mate in the same massacre that had slaughtered most of the Storm pack. Werewolves often took regular humans or wolves as their mates, and the pups she carried in her belly were the product of such a union. They had the potential to grow into normal wolves or shifters. Each one carried the shape changer genes which could be pas
sed on to future generations. They were the future of the pack.

  Victoria told the whole story. She began with the appearance of the restless ghost-mother and went on to share the plight of the missing boy. Then she recounted their confrontation with the hunters and the escape that followed. The others listened intently. Even the rambunctious teenagers held their questions until she finished.

  When she got to the exciting part with the shooting, Jasper smirked and gloated while Morena gasped and clutched his arm. The pair sat close, thighs touching. Too close. Victoria frowned. They'd have to be chaperoned closely to ensure their relationship progressed no further. At their age, infatuation was easily mistaken for true love. Casual sex could result in the pair forming an unbreakable mate bond. In her estimate, they were too immature to enter into such an immense commitment

  Rand waited until she finished her explanation, then asked, "Any idea how Jake found us so quick?"

  Victoria noted how easily Rand used their enemy's first name. Not Barrett. Not the Hunter King. Jake. He harbored no fear of the vaunted hunter, and she longed to get him alone to question his attitude.

  Of course, Rand had worked with the hunters hundreds of times. In Phoenix, vampire incursions were frequent and vicious. For over thirty years, wolves and hunters had been staunch allies. The two disparate groups often worked together to defend their mutual and overlapping territories.

  "We discarded our cell phones. Changed the plates on the cars. Stopped using credit,” Paul said, frowning. "What did we miss?"

  Victoria cleared her throat. "I'm not sure we missed anything. When he first saw me, he looked surprised. I don't think he knew we were here."

  "Es obvio, ¿no? Freya sold us out." Morena sat with her back rigid, her legs no longer swinging. Her dark eyes glittered, and her chin jutted. Whether her words were true or not, the girl's accusatory tone was completely unacceptable.

  Jasper recoiled from her as if struck.