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But Maja had done so much more. Not only had she spoken to Adam, she had saved his life. And then, as if driven by some inner madness, she had violated the Code in the worst way imaginable. I lay with him in his bed. I took him into my body. All the things I have been warned against... Yet I cannot find it in me to feel shame. Even though I will admit my transgressions, I will do it with my head held high.
There was no place in Asgard for a Valkyrie who had lost her virginity. On her return, Maja should expect her execution date to be set immediately.
With her usual disregard for convention, she had once asked Brynhild about the reasoning behind the rule about Valkyrie purity.
“Wouldn’t it make more sense if, instead of recruiting stepdaughters, it was the descendants of the true Valkyries who enlarged our force? Our daughters and granddaughters could learn the shield maiden way from an early age.”
Once Brynhild had recovered from the shock that Maja had dared to speak of such a topic, she had taken her sister’s hand. Her expression had been the half-resigned, half-bemused one she reserved only for Maja. “You must never speak of this matter again. It is unseemly and unwise. The decree about virginity dates back to the very first Valkyrie ride. There was an incident that took place after the fighters were brought to the great hall—” Brynhild had shuddered as though the memory was still distasteful to her. “The warriors felt that the duties of the Valkyries included meeting their carnal needs. Sadly, some of our older sisters did not refuse their demands, and the result resembled an orgy. It was so shocking that Odin was forced to introduce the death penalty to ensure there would be no repeat. The distance between the men of Valhalla and the Valkyries must be maintained.” She shook her head. “We will not dwell on the past, but these things are decided for good reasons.”
The Valkyries lived a separate existence from the gods, but Maja had caught glimpses now and then of pregnant women. In addition to the scandal Brynhild had alluded to, she supposed sex, childbirth and babies would interfere with the smooth running of Valhalla.
Now she had joined the ranks of those who brought that look of horror to Brynhild’s face.
I have no defense. If I met Adam once more, I would do it all over again.
It was something she could never explain to Brynhild, Odin or to anyone else, partly because she couldn’t understand it herself. The magic of that all-too-brief time she had spent in Adam’s arms lingered in the thrill that trembled through her body. It really had felt like magic. As if an incredible, heart-stopping spell had been cast upon her. She would die as a punishment and as an example to other Valkyries who might be tempted to stray from the path of purity, but the brief life that was left to her had been changed forever by the touch of a mortal.
The office building in which she had first met Adam had not fared well. Only one wall remained in place and that was leaning precariously outward. Twisted iron girders pointed skyward like gnarled, accusing fingers and the entrance doors hung on damaged hinges. Maja, probably the only individual in Syria who could not be harmed by any of the warring factions, stepped into the deserted foyer and felt a chill finger of dread track its way down her spine.
Magtfuld was gone.
* * *
When Adam woke some hours later, it was to the discovery that he had been right. Maja had disappeared and the room was in semidarkness. The light told him it was early morning. He lay still, wondering what, apart from her absence, had changed. Then he realized the bombing and gunfire that had continued intermittently throughout the previous day seemed to have finally stopped.
His shoulder throbbed unbearably; his whole body was tense and weary, yet at the same time he was experiencing a curious sense of peace. Aware that his zipper was undone, he attempted to fasten himself up one-handed. Feeling the evidence of his release on his body, he grimaced. What sort of fantasy had that been? While the imaginary sex had been better than anything he had ever experienced in reality, it had been over too soon. Shouldn’t a man be the superhuman, lasts-for-hours star of his own dreams?
Just as well it was a dream, since I didn’t give a thought to protection.
He spent a few minutes wishing he could summon her again. It was a foolish hope. Dreams like that came along once in a lifetime, and he supposed Maja had answered a deep-seated need inside him during a combination of terror and trauma. For someone who had always been rigorously in command of every aspect of his life, it was a strange sensation. I lost control. A smile touched his lips. And I liked it.
It was just as well that the corporate world would never discover that the bad boy of the boardroom had a weakness. Finding the time to leave the helm of his vast media conglomerate of newspapers, magazines, TV and internet news publishers, and publishing houses had been difficult enough. If it had been for anyone other than Danny it wouldn’t have happened. Getting shot was an added complication. Hopefully, his injury wouldn’t put him out of action for too long once he got home. Adam had built a global brand on the strength of his personal charisma. He couldn’t spare even a minute to let that slide.
Struggling to his feet, he made his way to the curtained-off commode. With normality restored, he returned to the bed and propped himself against pillows that were as hard as bags of cement. It was impossible to get comfortable, so he settled for the best he could do...which was somewhere between discomfort and agony.
He would be leaving Syria today. For the sake of his battered body and his damaged psyche—anyone who needed the sort of illusion he had created for himself in the form of Maja had a few unresolved issues—it was time to go. He thought of the beautiful countryside he had seen on his travels, with its rolling hills full of olive and lemon trees. Everyone he encountered had been warmhearted and helpful. This was a heartbreaking land and he would leave it with regret. For the first time ever, he felt the need to do something with his life other than make money. Although he had no idea what it would mean in practice, being here had unleashed a need within him that he intended to explore on his return home. The worst thing about leaving Syria was that he would be going without having accomplished what he had come here for. He still hadn’t found any information about Danny.
Danny had battled with learning difficulties all his life. It infuriated Adam that some people couldn’t figure out that didn’t mean Danny was dumb. He was a whole lot smarter than Adam in so many ways; it just took him longer to learn things. Their father had died when Danny was a baby and their mother had remarried almost immediately. Although their lifestyle was privileged, their stepfather was not a warm man, and despite their age difference, the two brothers had grown closer than ever. When their mother died, Adam had been twenty-one. He hadn’t needed her deathbed reminder to care for Danny. His eleven-year-old brother had moved in with him. Adam had found a school that specialized in helping students with Danny’s needs. Even though the diagnosis of severe dyslexia had come late, the teachers had supported him well and Danny had thrived. He had graduated high school and, refusing Adam’s offers of help, had found himself a job in a charitable foundation working with refugees.
Adam had done his best to talk him out of coming to Syria, but Danny had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Adam smiled. It was a Lyon trait. His own was several miles wider. His mind conjured up an image of his brother in the days before he’d left. So sure of what he was doing, so dedicated, so determined.
“That’s where we differ, Danny. You have strong principles, and are prepared to stand up for them.” Adam remembered his own words just before Danny left.
Danny had returned his gaze steadily. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re the person who raised me.”
Adam had given a self-deprecating laugh. “I have no illusions about myself.”
Once Danny got to Syria, the brothers had maintained a regular communication. Calling, messaging, emailing whenever they could. Then Danny’s attitude had started to change. He had always been upset about what was happening in Syria. Suddenly, instead of wanting to help in a humanitarian way, he began to talk about taking real action. That was when Adam started to get concerned about him. When the communication stopped, his concern turned to fear.
He found out from the organizers of the charity that Danny had gotten friendly with a group of men he’d met in one of the local villages. It was only after Danny left the nonprofit that the organizers discovered his new friends were mercenaries.
Adam withdrew the photograph of Danny from his pocket and looked at the familiar face. At the clear, laughing eyes so like his own, but lacking Adam’s cynicism and ruthlessness. His fist clenched hard on his thigh.
I must find him. I have to take him home.
The opening of the door interrupted his thoughts and a small, tousled head inserted itself into the room.
Tarek smiled when he saw Adam was awake. “I can put the light on?”
Adam nodded. “Please do.”
Tarek’s presence was a welcome interruption. The dog he had carried with him on the previous day also seemed to consider himself included in the invitation. After bounding into the room with a shrill bark, the little creature leaped onto the bed and made several enthusiastic attempts to lick Adam’s face.
“He likes you.” Tarek took the chair at the side of the bed. “He knows you saved us when the Reapers were chasing us.”
The dog might have been a terrier, but his unkempt appearance meant his parentage was indeterminate. He was young and friendly, and once his initial exuberance had died down, he curled up on Adam’s legs with a contented sigh. Having him there felt curiously comforting.
“What’s his name?”
“Leo.” Tarek must have been aware of the sudden intensity of Adam’s gaze, because he clearly felt the need for further clarification. “I named him after the man who gave him to me.”
Leo. It was a long time since he’d heard his brother’s childhood nickname. Leo the Lyon. It had been their private joke. Adam felt sharp, unaccustomed tears stinging the back of his eyelids.
“Is this the man who gave you your dog?” He held out Danny’s picture.
“Yes.” Tarek laughed delightedly as he looked at the picture. “How did you know it was him?”
Although he smiled, his hand reached out for Leo, tangling itself in the wiry fur as though the dog was his comforter.
“Tell me some more about this man, Tarek.”
“You sound just like Maja. She wanted to know all about the warriors I have met.”
Adam sat up so abruptly it felt like a red-hot wire had been inserted into his shoulder. He also dislodged Leo, who whined a protest. “Maja?”
“The lady with the long gold hair. The one who was dressed like a superhero.” Eyeing him with concern, Tarek clearly felt further explanation was necessary. “She brought us here after you were shot.”
Adam slumped back on his pillows. The action dislodged something from his hair. A single feather, so pure and white it could only have come from the breast of a swan, drifted down and landed on the worn sheet next to his hand. His fingertips closed over it.
I am not a figment of your imagination. He heard her voice saying the words. Stunned, he remained still for a few minutes, letting Tarek’s chatter wash over him.
There were too many questions vying for dominance in Adam’s mind. When had Tarek seen Danny, the man who had given him his dog? What did Tarek mean when he said the Reapers had been chasing him? Surely he had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time when Adam rescued him?
Somehow, all the other questions were pushed aside and Adam asked the one that mattered most right now. “Did you see where Maja went?”
Tarek started to answer, but his words were drowned out by the sound of gunfire coming from just outside the building.
* * *
Being stranded in the mortal realm without her steed shouldn’t feel like a reprieve, but it did. Maja had no doubt that recalling Magtfuld was Brynhild’s way of punishing her. Cutting her off from any means of returning to Valhalla would ordinarily feel isolating and frightening. Right now, it felt like she had been handed a lifeline.
This was temporary, Maja told herself, as she did a final check to make sure she really couldn’t call Magtfuld from the shadows. Her guess was that Brynhild’s plan was to leave her in the mortal realm just long enough to make her suffer. Then her sister was likely to send a rescue party. The message? Don’t step out of line again. By dismissing her companions, Maja hadn’t conformed to the behavior expected of a shield maiden. Brynhild didn’t do anger. She did retaliation. Cold, calculated and carefully planned.
This way, Maja might have time to at least salvage part of her reputation. Maybe, just maybe, she could still track down the American Lion. She had an outside chance of succeeding, but she may as well make the attempt. And the key to the whereabouts of the brave warrior she sought was back at the mission. The only brief glimpse she had gotten into his whereabouts had come when Adam had responded when she had mentioned him. His words had suggested that the American Lion was his brother. Although he had refused to discuss the matter, he had not denied it. And Maja had subsequently become somewhat distracted from the topic.
A blush tinged her cheeks. Was she being honest with herself? Was she really seeking the American Lion, or was she looking for an excuse to go back to Adam? She decided the two things were so closely entwined that it would be impossible to separate them. Tell yourself that. It sounds so much better than the truth...that you cannot stay away from him.
Unearthing her cloak, helmet and weapons from the space beneath the stairs where she had hidden them, she decided the only way she would know for sure about any connection between Adam and the American Lion would be to ask him outright.
A heavenly dawn light was breaking through the wispy cloud as Maja retraced her steps. She had never had a chance to appreciate the beauty of the mortal realm on previous missions. Although humans had a terrible capacity to cause harm to each other, this world of theirs had the power to move her with its magnificence. The contrast between the destruction that had taken place within the town, and the rolling countryside around it, unveiled now by the emerging light, could not have been starker.
As Maja followed the road out of the village, she picked up the sound of conflict. They were, after all, the sort of noises with which she was most familiar. Angry, raised voices, growled instructions, cries of pain, shocked protests, and gunfire. But it was her job to know when there was hostility in the air, and her finely tuned Valkyrie senses had told that the fighting in Warda was over. Yet this disturbance was coming from the direction of the mission.
Breaking into a run as she used her invisibility as a shield, she dashed into the courtyard in time to see a group of five men dragging the three male mission workers and Edith Blair out of the old house. They forced the frightened group to their knees, holding guns to the back of their heads. One of the attackers paced up and down in front of them.
He barked a question at them in Arabic. The Valkyries had a unique understanding of all mortal languages, but the man repeated the words in English as he paused in front of Edith. “Where is the boy?”
Maja had to admire the woman’s courage as, despite the gun pressed into the base of her skull, she maintained eye contact and spoke coolly. “I know a number of boys. You’ll have to be specific.”
His lips drew back in a snarl. “Don’t play games. We are looking for the boy called Tarek.”
As he spoke, a movement just beyond the edge of the building caught Maja’s eye. Her senses were keener than those of most mortals and she doubted the leader of the group who were seeking Tarek would have seen it. The house was surrounded by a drystone wall. Roughly shoulder height, it dipped in places and had some glaring gaps in its uneven surface.
It was through one of these gaps that Maja caught sight of a man’s arm. It was the briefest glimpse, but it made her heart bound. The arm was strong, corded with muscle, and a white bandage stood out starkly against the tanned flesh of the shoulder. The man’s hand was wrapped protectively around something. Maja could just make out a mop of dark, curly hair.
She breathed a sigh of relief. Adam would protect Tarek. Now it was up to her to keep Edith and her mission workers safe. Any thoughts of the Valkyrie Code were long gone as she strode into the midst of the action.
The Valkyries were not just pretty faces who collected souls for Odin and waited on his soldiers. They were highly trained warriors. Martial arts, street fighting, hand-to-hand combat... Maja was as equally comfortable with her fists and feet as she was with a sword or a gun.
Using her invisibility to give her the element of surprise, she drop-kicked the leader of the attackers in the head. He hit the ground like a fallen statue. As Maja materialized, sword swinging, before his openmouthed followers, she was conscious of a buzz of pure elation. Being the bad Valkyrie was starting to feel very good.
Chapter 4
When the shooting started, the only thing on Adam’s mind had been to get Tarek to safety. Since he had only a sketchy idea of the layout of the house, and he guessed the gunmen were on their way inside, he decided the best option was to get outside and try and find a hiding place.
Ignoring the searing pain in his shoulder, he had shielded Tarek with his body as he pulled open the door and glanced left and right. His room opened onto a narrow corridor that, despite the noise, was still empty. Adam judged it was a situation that was unlikely to last long.
“Which way will get us out of here?”
Tarek, still clutching Leo tightly to his chest, didn’t hesitate. “Left.”
A few feet brought them to a utility area with an industrial-size sink and a washing machine that was in midcycle and seemed to be doing its best to start a small earthquake. Through an open door, Adam could see a small courtyard lined with garbage cans. Beyond that was the familiar undulating countryside.
Keeping hold of Tarek’s upper arm with his good hand, he skittered into the morning sunlight at speed, assessing his options the whole time. Making for the hills was no good. They would be too exposed out there in the open. He had no idea what these people wanted. The fact that they were prepared to burst into a charitable mission firing guns didn’t make Adam feel inclined to stick around and converse with them. As far as he was concerned, their motives could remain shrouded in mystery.
As they passed the garbage cans, they drew level with the wall that bordered the property. At the same time, the shouting from within the house intensified.
“What are they saying?” Adam asked.
“They are looking for me.” Tarek’s voice wobbled on a new note of fear.
There wasn’t time to ask for clarification about that statement. Instead, the words strengthened Adam’s resolve to get the boy out of harm’s way. The other side of the wall seemed like a good place to be right now. There were no guarantees the bad guys wouldn’t think to look there, but at least they wouldn’t be so vulnerable, and they could keep moving while hidden from view.
There was no way Adam’s injury would allow him to climb the shoulder-high wall, but its poor state of repair meant there were places where it had deteriorated and become almost a pile of rubble. After scrambling through one of these, he and Tarek clung to the rough rocks on the opposite side of the mission building, making their way along the length of the wall until they were in line with the main entrance.
Hearing Edith’s voice, Adam paused, viewing the scene at the front of the mission through a gap in the stones. What he saw made his blood turn to ice. The kindhearted English doctor and her three assistants were kneeling on the ground with their hands behind their backs, while men with guns stood behind them.
Adam slumped slightly, feeling the rough-hewn rocks pressing into his back. What the hell was he supposed to do? Save the boy or try to help Edith? He almost laughed aloud. And what exactly are you—a one-armed man—going to do against five gunmen?
In the end, it came down to one simple fact. He couldn’t cower behind a wall while people who had helped him took a bullet to the head. Even if the only thing he could do was walk out there and provide a momentary distraction for the gunmen—and let’s face it, that’s likely to be all I can do—then he would do it.
“Keep going along this wall,” he told Tarek, ignoring the boy’s look of horror. “Get as far from this place as fast as you can. Don’t look back.”
Giving Tarek a push to spur him on, Adam moved back in the direction they had just come, finding a broken-down place in the wall. Taking a breath, he clambered over the gap before his resolve faltered. Clenching his jaw to hide his fear, he stepped into the courtyard.
He fully expected the force of five weapons to be turned on him as he walked toward the group of people in front of the mission doors. Instead, no one even glanced his way. That was because their attention was focused entirely on the strange behavior of the leader of the group of militants. Without warning, he stopped screaming at Edith. His head spun so sharply to the right that Adam, still several feet away, heard a crack. It was as if his neck had just broken from an invisible kick to the head. Then the man dropped to the ground.
His followers were still regarding him in surprise, when the reason for this phenomenon was explained...to Adam, at least. Maja appeared from nowhere, holding her Valkyrie sword in both hands. As she swung the weapon above her head, her eyes met Adam’s. The expression in those blue depths reassured and warmed him. She was flesh and blood and she knew what she was doing. He took a moment to feel glad she was on his side.
“Get his gun.” She gestured for Adam to go toward the unconscious form of the leader as she approached the other militants. They were briefly stunned into immobility by what had happened, but Adam wasn’t hopeful that was going to last.
Sure enough, as Maja drew closer, the man who held his gun at Edith’s head raised it and pointed it at the Valkyrie instead. His hand shook wildly as he barked an order at her. Adam could understand the reason for the awestruck expression on his face. With her proud stance and golden hair streaming out behind her, Maja resembled an avenging angel as she bore down on him.
Adam’s injury made him feel close to useless, but he was going to do everything he could to help Maja fight these thugs. It looked like he wouldn’t get the chance, for the man fired at the precise moment that Adam managed to stoop and snag the leader’s discarded gun. As the bullet hit Maja in the abdomen and she doubled over, Adam couldn’t believe the force of the emotion that swept through him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maja go down, and he wanted to roar like a wounded animal in response. He would never have imagined himself capable of anything so primal and raw. Thought took second place to feeling. Acting on nothing but instinct, he raised his arm and fired an answering shot.
Adam’s bullet hit the rebel in the throat; the man’s body hitting the red dust shook the mission workers into action. Two of the militants had been taken out, which meant their chances were improving. Seizing the initiative, they turned on their attackers. Although gunshots rang out, Adam didn’t see anyone get hit. But that might have been because his attention was on Maja.
After being struck by the bullet, she had dropped to one knee. Now, she was up again and powering forward at a run that would put an Olympic sprinter to shame. Adam shook his head to clear it. He had seen that bullet hit her square in the center of her body. She should be dead or dying, sprawled in the Syrian dust.