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Copyright ©2024 Megan Slayer
“Don’t you dare get attached.”
Kara folded her arms and groaned. She’d heard that line so many times through the centuries. What did attachments have to do with her? She wasn’t about to hook up with anyone long-term again. She’d made that mistake once and nearly paid with her life.
Not again.
Brynhildr glared at her. “You’re not listening.”
Kara snorted and shifted her attention from her thoughts to the elder Valkyrie. “You’re right. I’m not.” She mentally repeated the rules -- Valkyries are duty-bound, not permitted to form attachments, should stay free and vigilant.
Fine. Except she didn’t want to be on duty any longer. The job had become too dangerous. She’d long tired of the blood, the gore, the anger. She’d retrieved so many warriors from the field of battle and delivered them to Valhalla, but she could only take the devastation for so long.
“I don’t like you getting into scuffles in bars.” Brynhildr shook her head and leaned her elbows on the high-top table. “You’re looking for trouble. What do you have? A death wish?”
“What if I do?” She picked at the peanut shell remaining in the bowl. The bartender needed to replenish the snacks. When the monster came back around, she’d say something.
“What do you mean?” Brynhildr asked. “You’re getting careless, like you’re inviting trouble. You do know there’s something big planned for you.”
“Is there?” At least she didn’t have to explain herself. She wasn’t about to tell the elder she wanted to rest for a long time -- like forever. She’d contemplated final solutions a few times, but the idea of actually dying scared her. Her ex had tried to kill her, but she’d been reincarnated. Helgi swore he’d never let her forget him.
She hadn’t.
But she also didn’t want to be with him any longer.
“There’s a plan for you, Kara. Don’t jeopardize it.” Brynhildr sighed and reached for Kara’s arm. “What’s got you so upset? Talk to me. You can’t bottle it inside or you’ll lose the battle.”
She knew that all too well. Brynhildr was right. They did need to talk. “I don’t want to retrieve any longer. I want a break. I can’t handle the death and gore anymore. I’m tired of seeing so much pain. My heart can’t take it. I don’t want to settle down, but I need time away. I’ve thought about just ending it all to make the pain go away.”
“Don’t do that.” Brynhildr squeezed Kara’s bicep. “You’re my dear friend. When you feel that way again, you tell me. I’ll sit with you as long as you need and even when you don’t.”
“I know you will.” She’d never doubted her friend and elder Valkyrie. “What’s this big thing planned for me?”
“Promise me you’ll call me when you get low.” Brynhildr held tight to Kara’s arm. “Promise.”
“I will.” She wouldn’t go back on that.
“But you asked about the something big,” Brynhildr said. “Not all warriors need to go to Valhalla. Some need care here first. It’s up to you if you’re interested in giving that care before they can go. It doesn’t mean they’re on the battlefield. In some cases, they’re still fighting even though they’re home.”
“Still?” she murmured. Someone else understood what she saw when she closed her eyes?
“You might even find yourself along the way.”
She hadn’t expected the elder to say that. She’d expected to stay lost and drift away. But if she could help someone, that would be good -- if she could even help. Most people were afraid of her. What if the person she was supposed to assist didn’t want her help? What if they didn’t like her?
“We have someone specific in mind for your first job. What if I could tell you what he looks like?” Brynhildr asked. “Could show you?”
“You could?” Now the elder had her full attention. “Show me.”
“Are you interested in taking a different route and helping him?”
She hesitated. She should say no and return to sulking. “I am.” The words spilled off her tongue. She didn’t hear the undercurrent of conversation in the bar, didn’t smell the cigarettes and stale beer in the air, or even notice the smoke swirling around her. Her senses hyper-focused on what Brynhildr said. “I want to see him.”
“Very well.” Brynhildr produced a mirror.
The image of a man formed in the glass. Brown hair, crinkles around his brown eyes, tension in his posture, too thin, but handsome. Kara narrowed her eyes. He was damn cute, but wasn’t he off-limits? “I can’t get attached to him?”
“You know the code.”
She did.
She also wasn’t entirely sure what he’d be like. He might be a jerk. Have the personality of a brick. Or he could be damn sexy, enticing, and sweet. Just lost too. He could be the kind of man a woman wanted to chase, to wrap up in, and never let go. The kind she wanted to kiss, touch, and tease. To feel moving inside her.
Not the perfect man -- but damn close.
If he really existed.
He might not.
There wasn’t much point in getting her hopes up.
“Just don’t fall in love.” Brynhildr shook her head. “Remember how that worked out with Helgi? This one might be a better fit and not nearly so violent, but you’re a proud Valkyrie, and you should remain unattached.”
“I should.” She’d followed the rules during this life. Previous ones? Not so much. This time around, she wanted to be a good Valkyrie. A proud one. She didn’t have time for romance. No time to waste on something that wasn’t going to last.
What if it did? What if this wasn’t just a passing fancy? What if they fell in love?
She had to stop thinking like this. Just because falling in love was possible didn’t mean it’d happen. Falling on her head was just as possible. Gods, it was more believable. She wasn’t a kid and didn’t need love.
Right?
Everyone could live without love and affection.
What if she didn’t want to any longer? What if she wanted to be romanced?
What if he had the key to her happiness, and he held the key to her heart?
Only the power of the gods could show her that truth.
Where was a god when she needed one?
“He’s here in Eerie. I’ll bet you’ve seen him,” Brynhildr said. “Don’t spook him. I know you’re good at being blunt.”
Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white-hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.
When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.
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