Ain't Myth-Behaving Page 17

  “How many have you seen?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  “Two, including you. The other one refused to help us. You’re our only hope now.”

  “We’ll get back to that point, if you don’t mind. Right now I’m just trying to get a handle on who you guys are. You said you were cursed by a witch?”

  “Alrik was,” Torsten answered, sending the handsome Viking a look of pride. “He crossed her in love.”

  “I didn’t cross anyone in love,” Alrik answered, leaning against the mast. “I simply didn’t pledge her my heart.”

  “Alrik always had women after him,” Torsten told me in a confidential voice. “He is a ladies’ man, you see.”

  “Yes, I can see that,” I said, eyeing the tall Viking.

  Alrik scowled at his friend. “Don’t exaggerate. I was no different from any other man.”

  “He had many women,” Torsten continued with a grin.

  “No more than you had.”

  “He had at least five times as many as we had,” Bardi corrected, and I got the distinct feeling the men were enjoying ragging Alrik.

  “Aye, he did,” Grim agreed. “They used to follow him around town whenever we were ashore, just like puppies.”

  “Bah!” Alrik snorted, and stomped over to the other side of the ship.

  “So, he was a tomcat on the prowl who had a one-night fling with a witch, and she decided to end his immoral ways?”

  “No,” Alrik answered, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at me. “She decided that I needed to be punished for the fact that I wasn’t in love with her, and cursed me to an eternity of sailing the shore until the day that I changed my mind. Unfortunately, these four lunatics spoke up against her, and she cursed them, as well.”

  I looked at all of them. “You guys are cursed to sail around in this ship until Alrik falls in love with a witch?”

  They nodded.

  “You don’t get to ever go ashore?”

  “No.”

  “Ouch.” I turned my attention back to the man in question. “But that doesn’t make sense. If this was thirteen hundred years ago, how were you supposed to fall in love with her after she cursed you? Surely she was dead forty or so years later?”

  “She was immortal too,” Alrik said. “I didn’t know Hilda was a witch when I met her. She seemed like any other woman, until I tried to leave the next morning.”

  “Wow,” I said, imagining what it would be like to be in their shoes. “With no hope of an end in sight? That’s a high price to pay just for a little nooky. Did you ever…er…think about going along with her, just to break the curse?”

  Alrik looked vaguely offended. “That would be wrong! I am not in love with her, nor will I ever be. But that does not matter now.”

  “It doesn’t?”

  “No.” A smile came to his lips, and I felt my knees go a bit weak at it. Torsten was pretty darned handsome in a white-blond Scandinavian way, but Alrik, with his red-gold hair, and that manly stubble that made little butterflies pop up in my stomach, was downright breathtaking. And when he smiled…well, let’s just say the effect was damn near overwhelming.

  Until he spoke, that is. “No, it doesn’t matter—because now we have you. You offer us the one way to break the curse: You must summon us to Valhöll.”

  My mind, busy fantasizing about what he looked like without those leather pants and linen shirt, ground to a halt. I sighed. “We’re back to that Valkyrie thing again, aren’t we? I’m sorry, Alrik, I wish I could help you, I really do, but it’s impossible. I’m just not a Valkyrie.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “I think I’d know if I was some warrior chick who runs around raising dead guys! I’m sorry to disillusion you, but you’ve got the wrong woman. Oh, man, I need a smoke. I don’t suppose any of you have any?”

  “A smoke?” Bardi frowned. “A smoked what? Fish?”

  “No, no, a cigarette.”

  “Ah, cigarette!” Torsten said, nodding his head at me.

  I beamed at him. “Can I bum one off you? I’m trying to quit, but I think this qualifies as an emergency.”

  “What is this cigarette?” Alrik asked, eyeing me suspiciously. “Is it a weapon?”

  “You remember cigarette,” Torsten said to his buddy. “We saw a documentary about lung cancer, and the effect of…what was it called?”

  Grim cleared his throat. “Passive smoking. Very bad. It is illegal to smoke in public places in Sweden.”

  The men all nodded, then turned to look at me.

  “Smoking kills,” Alrik said in that smug tone that nonsmokers have. I would have hackled up at that, but there was something in his lovely, changeable eyes that made me think he was speaking in all sincerity, and that he really did believe what he said.

  It occurred to me then that not only did they speak extremely good English for thousand-year-old ghosts, but they had more than a passing familiarity with contemporary society. “How do you guys know about documentaries and passive smoking and all that if you’ve been on this boat for the last thirteen hundred years?”

  “Down the coast near town, an old man lives in a house that sits over the water. He’s been there for sixty years—now his son lives there. We met him when we were hunting for food, and he has given us much that we could not get easily—magazines and newspapers—”

  “…toilet paper, and medicines,” interrupted Bardi.

  “Better arrows, and more sharpening stones,” added Grim.

  Torsten grinned. “Big Macs and fries!”

  They all murmured at that.

  “We especially liked the Big Macs,” Bardi acknowledged.

  “The old man’s son, Tomas, has a television that he sets up so we can see. We learned English, French, and Italian from television university courses.”

  “Wow, I’m impressed. I can’t even pick up a few words of Swedish, and you guys have learned three other languages.”

  “We’ve had many years to learn,” Bardi said kindly.

  “True.” I glanced at my watch. “Well, this has been fascinating, but my family is waiting and I’d better be getting on my way. Can you pull in to shore so I can get off?”

  “Yes, it is best we do this now,” Alrik agreed, nodding toward the men.

  I have to admit I was a bit surprised by his attitude—for some reason, I thought I might have a little difficulty getting him to release me, what with him believing I was his key to getting to Valhalla. Surprised as I was by that, I was more so by the actions of the Vikings. Rather than put out the oars and send the boat to shore, they all hurried to various chests, whipping out bits of animal skins, and piling them high with assorted belongings.

  Before you could say “delusional Viking ghosts,” they were gathered around me, each bearing as many of the now bound skins as they could carry.

  “We are ready,” Alrik said, giving me an expectant look.

  “Um…ready for what?”

  “For you to summon us to Valhöll.”

  “Look, I already said…” I stopped, knowing that they weren’t going to listen to me. “You’re not going to let me go, are you?”

  “Not before you take us to Valhöll, no,” Alrik said, his mouth a thin line. “We have been patient, Brynna. We are worthy of the halls of Odin. We will not shame you.”

  I opened my mouth to tell them I had no doubt that as warriors they were the pick of the litter, but instead, a self-preservation instinct kicked in, and I threw myself over the side of the boat.

  Their shouts were somewhat drowned in the splashing I made as I swam for shore. Another splash followed, and I took a quick glance over my shoulder.

  That was a mistake. That, and not believing the Vikings when they said they had centuries to practice swimming. It took Alrik just a few powerful strokes before he caught up with me, grabbing my foot and jerking me backward until he had both arms wrapped around me.

  “I thought you said you couldn’t leave the ship!” I sputtered, spitting out
a mouthful of seawater.

  His eyes were now more gray than hazel, matching the color of the water around us. I spent a moment in awe about the ability of his irises to change before I realized that now was not the time to be admiring the eyes of a man who could easily drown me if he so chose. “No, I can leave the boat. I cannot go on land.”

  “What happens if you do?” I asked, unable to quell my rampant curiosity. Or maybe I just liked to be held by him, even if it was in the middle of the cold North Sea.

  “It is impossible. The only way I can touch land is to be summoned by a Valkyrie.”

  “Ah.”

  “Why do you not wish to summon us to Valhöll? Do you wish payment of some sort? We have gold; we will pay you.” The water glistened on his beard stubble. I wanted badly to lick it off.

  “I said I would help you if I could. But I can’t!”

  “You can. You must.”

  “Okay, I tell you what. You let me go, and I’ll give it a shot, all right?”

  His lips narrowed. “You will not trick me again? You will not try to escape?”

  I had every intention of doing just that…until I saw the utter desperation in his eyes. It touched something inside of me, some unknown need I had to help him. “I’ll do everything in my power to break this curse.”

  “Swear it,” he said, his face disturbingly close to mine. I started thinking again about that quick kiss he’d give me before, and how much I wanted to repeat the experience.

  “I swear I’ll do everything I can to help you. But you need to prepare yourself for the ugly reality that I’m not what you think I am.”

  His eyes darkened a little before his head dipped, and once again I was the recipient of the hottest kiss I’d ever felt. I knew what sort of picture it made—by now I was clinging to his shoulders, both of us treading water in a sea that was growing increasingly cold with each second I spent in it. I knew that it was absolutely insane to let him kiss me in such a manner, his tongue demanding entrance only to swoop around my mouth like it owned the place. I knew it was utterly and completely crazy to find myself becoming more and more aroused by a man I’d just met—a ghost I’d just met. All those thoughts swirled around my brain, but none of them mattered. I kissed Alrik back, making him groan in the back of his throat when I suckled his tongue. He still tasted like mead, sweet and rich. His mouth was so hot, my toenails were steaming by the time he broke it off.

  “I can see why the women followed you around like puppies,” I said, trying to drag my mind from its demand that I kiss him again.

  “No woman has ever followed me,” he said, looking at my lips. “Nor has any of them offered to save me. You alone have done that.”

  I pushed against him. Reluctantly—or so it seemed to me—his arms relaxed and let me slip from his grip. I swam backward toward the shore, my lips tingling, my blood burning, and deep, inner parts of me on full red alert. “Alrik, I really would help you if I could, but I just don’t think this is going to work.”

  His face bobbed above the gray water. “I have faith in you, Brynna.”

  My feet touched land. I was safe, on solid ground where Alrik couldn’t get me. I could simply turn my back on him and run up the rocky beach to the road. Someone was bound to come along looking for me. All I had to do was leave.

  I scrambled out of the water and stood on the shore, water pouring off me. “How do you know I won’t just leave you?” I yelled.

  Even at a distance of sixty or so feet, I could see him raise his eyebrows. “You swore to help us.”

  I wrung out my shirt as best I could, glancing behind him to the longboat filled with hopeful Vikings. I couldn’t turn my back on them, yet I was completely out of my depths with all this Valkyrie talk. Somehow, I’d have to find someone who knew something about Viking history. Perhaps Momo Hildi could help—my mother had urged me for years to talk to my great-grandmother, since Momo Hildi was extremely well versed in Swedish history. “Yes, and I meant it. I think I know someone who might be able to help. She’s really old and frail, though, so I won’t be able to bring her to see you.”

  “Summon me,” Alrik said.

  “I don’t even know where Valhalla is supposed to be,” I said, slapping my hands on my wet jeans. “How can I summon you there?”

  “You must try,” he insisted.

  “Boy, you really are the most stubborn Viking ghost I’ve ever met…. Fine, you want me to summon you? Alrik Sigurdsson, I summon you.”

  It was on my lips to explain about my momo when he disappeared from the water…and reappeared directly in front of me.

  The men on the boat cheered as Alrik looked down at his feet in surprise, then let loose with a whoop of joy that made my ears ring. That was forgotten quickly as he wrapped both arms around me and lifted me, swinging me in a circle. “I knew I couldn’t be wrong about you,” he said, before planting yet another hot, wet kiss on me.

  I was still more than a little bemused by the kiss when he demanded I summon the men. In less than a minute, I was surrounded by dancing, laughing, and singing Viking ghosts.

  “I don’t understand,” I told Alrik as he accepted a couple of furry bundles from Bardi. “I just don’t understand. Wouldn’t I know if I was a Valkyrie? Wouldn’t someone have told me? Don’t I need a certificate or something to be one?”

  “Now you can take us to Valhöll,” Jon said, dancing past me.

  “Yes,” Alrik said, brushing a strand of wet hair off my cheekbone. The touch of his hand sent a little zing of heat through me. He took a step closer, his lips curving slightly. “You can take us to Valhöll. You will visit me there frequently, I hope. I have much…gratitude…to show you.”

  It was impossible to miss the innuendo.

  “You may be Mr. Sexy Ghost and all that, but what makes you think I’m at all interested in you in that way?”

  His thumb brushed against my lower lip. I opened my mouth and bit it.

  “Oh, all right, I’ll visit you in Valhalla, assuming someone tells me how to get you there. But I refuse to run after you like a puppy. And just so you know—I don’t share!”

  “Possessive, eh?” He smiled, damn him. “Normally I dislike that, but with you…”

  The rest of his sentence was cut short by the sound of a car honking, and my name being called down from the road. I turned to see my cousin Paul at the wheel of my aunt’s car. I waved back at him and yelled that I’d be right there.

  “There’s a town a few miles away,” I started to say, but Alrik interrupted.

  “We will go with you.”

  “I’m staying with my family here,” I explained. “There’s not a whole lot of room. I’m sleeping on the porch in a sleeping bag, so although I’d like to bring you home with me—God knows what I’d say to the family—it’s not going to be possible.”

  Alrik shook his head, and took my hand in a firm grip. “You summoned us. We are now bound to you, until you take us to Valhöll. We will come with you.”

  “But—”

  “Where you go, so do we. That is all there is to it.”

  “But—”

  In the end, all my explaining did no good. Every last man of them insisted that since I had summoned them to me, they were bound to me. Good or bad, I was stuck with five extremely virile Vikings.

  There were women who would pay good money to be in my shoes, I thought as I marched my little gang of ghosts up the rocky cliffside to the road where Paul waited. And as I slid a little glance to Alrik, still holding my hand, I had to admit that there were worse things to be bound to.

  The ride back to Momo Hildi’s took five times as long as normal because of the explanations Paul demanded. At first he threatened to call the police and have them haul off what he perceived as ruffians. Once the men convinced him that they were who they were, and he absorbed the fact that I wasn’t what I appeared to be, he shook his head and said he always knew nothing good would come of my parents’ leaving the homeland.

  Telling him h
is car was fifteen feet underwater was another subject, one that was extremely painful for several minutes. Eventually Paul got the worst of the swearing out of his system.

  “You’re going to have to tell my insurance company what happened,” he muttered, giving the water a forlorn look before taking the wheel of Aunt Agda’s car.

  I was still trying to work out how on earth I was going to explain the deer and five dead Vikings to an insurance company when we arrived back at the farmhouse.

  “You’re going to have to explain this to Moster Agda, as well,” Paul warned in an undertone as I climbed off Alrik’s lap, where I’d been forced to sit due to shortage of space in the car (and if you think I was going to complain about that, you’re crazy).

  “You’re older, you should do it,” I answered in a craven attempt to get out of what was sure to be an unpleasant task.

  He shook his head, and said cryptically, “No, you must do it. You’re female.”

  “But—Aw, hell.”

  “That is your family, I assume?” Alrik asked, looking with interest toward the crowd of people milling around the wrap-around veranda. In the center, Aunt Agda was helping a tiny, doubled-up form to a chair. Everyone froze when they saw all the Vikings get out of the car.

  “Yeah. Looks like it’s Momo Hildi’s daily half hour to sit outside. Oy vey. Well, I just hope she knows something about Valhalla.”

  Alrik smiled at me, which made me stumble. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it, his thumb stroking the palm of my hand in a way that made my blood sizzle. I thought seriously of jumping his bones, but reminded myself that even if he was the sexiest Viking in the history of the world, it didn’t mean I could just fling myself into bed with him. I wasn’t cheap, and no amount of knee-melting smiles would change that fact.

  “I have faith in you,” he repeated as we marched up the front steps of the porch. The look in his eyes arrested me for a moment. Confidence was there, as well as desire. I was floored by the knowledge that he really did believe I could end his curse. Floored, and aroused as hell. “I have faith that you will fulfill my every need.”

  “I have no doubt you’re pretty good at fulfillment, as well,” I answered.