Karli didn’t want to admit that she had often stopped here through her park tours and thought that the animals reflected sadness in their eyes. “We give them…the best care we can.”
“The best care would have been releasing them to the wild.”
“Giza was too badly hurt to go back. Plus, it’s too late for that now, regardless.” Unable to stop the words, the ones no one in the park was supposed to utter aloud. “They have been here so long that they would die if we released them.”
“You know this, yet you keep them anyway.”
“I’m not the one in charge of the animals.” Karli backed up a step as he drew nearer. A large hand moved to her face, one finger extended. His touch was feather light, as he stroked it along her cheek.
“No. No, you just work here. Another one of their caged beasts. Perhaps I need to set you free?”
“And how do you suppose you can do that?” A wave of desire spread through her, starting at the barely there touch upon her cheek. The finger moved under her chin, lifting her face to his.
“Like this.” Dropping down, he pressed soft lips to hers in a kiss that was a whisper of what it could be. A name whispered through her mind as his kiss ended… Ryden.
“Ryden?”
His brows furrowed as he stood back to his full height. “How do you know my name?”
”I…don’t…know.”
The corner of his lips hinted at a smile as his eyes bored a hole deep within her. The man inhaled, deeply, lowering his head until it was level with her own. She felt his hot breath on her neck, and she arched her back slightly, her traitorous body demanding more of his touch.
Which never came.
Opening the eyes she hadn’t even realized she had closed, she looked up into his hooded gaze, the one that screamed an arousal that equaled her own. Tapping his finger on her nametag, the tugging blossomed into a full smile. “Well, Karli of Scream Town, I will be seeing you soon. Very soon.”
****
“They have found her in the amusement park. I saw it with my own eyes.”
Freyja looked closely at her subordinate, knowing the news before it was ever uttered. “Harald’s Berserkers have proven to be too smart and too resourceful for their own good. I want them dead by the Nave.”
“Easier said than done. Odin has a soft spot for these six, more so than any of his other Berserkers. I fear his hand has hidden them from us throughout the years.”
“You idiot!” Freyja stood from her golden throne, looking down at the meek hooded form in front of her, repulsed by the show of fear as her servant stepped back. “Of course Odin has had a hand in their survival. Do you doubt that they would not be in my Hall centuries ago if not for that fact?”
“Of course, my Queen. You are all knowing and all powerful.”
Freyja looked down at the quivering mass of flesh lying prostrate on the floor below her feet, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “They will be expecting Gyda and the Swartska, you will have the element of surprise. The female can be your bait. She is the key.” Freyja could not stomach any more of the weakness, her warrior should not cower on the floor, but stand with head held high. “Stand up, for Sessrumnir’s sake. You are dirtying up my floor. There are scales everywhere.”
“As is your wish, my Queen.”
Freyja had been good to her word many eons ago, and had used the Nave over the centuries to collect live souls for her house. Odin’s bands of bloody Berserkers had thrown themselves in her way too many times over the years, so Freyja began targeting them on her hunts as fewer and fewer believed in the old religions anymore. There were fewer and fewer new souls to refresh her power. Berserker power was better than any human anyway, and a live one, well, a live one could keep her juiced up for some time. The last two she had brought to Sessrumnir had kept her energy high for years.
But Harald’s set of Berserkers had been especially hard to capture, the soft spot they held in Odin’s heart made them worthy targets for her. But it also made them more of a challenge. Her favorite subject, Gyda, had cursed the wretched men over one thousand years before, and she and Gyda’s Swartska family of gypsies had hunted the beasts from that point forward. That had made her smile. But, curses were not enough to make her smile any longer. She was ready for blood.
“My wish is for all their heads. On pikes. Presented to me by the end of the Nave. I think it is time to release the dragon and get this all over with.”
“There are only five, my Queen. One is missing, the one they call Jakob.”
“Gyda has been after that one for months. He will be collected soon enough.”
“And the female? What shall I do with her?”
“Once she has completed her task as bait, you can have her to do as you wish.”
Chapter Three
Ryden stalked toward Rayne, and the two fell into a matched gate as they moved their way to the exit of the park. For the first ten minutes the pair was silent and Ryden didn’t want to express his thoughts until they were alone.
Apparently, Rayne couldn’t wait. “Do you truly think the curse is over?”
Ryden took a deep breath and kept walking, still hearing the witch’s words floating in his head. For mer enn tusen år, vil du ikke finne kjærligheten, vil du ikke finne lykke, og du vil ikke spre din ætt. Og jeg vil finne din elskere, og jeg vil drepe dem alle foran øynene dine.
For more than one thousand years, you will not find love, you will not find happiness, and you will not spread your seed. And I will find your mates, and I will kill them all before your eyes.
And that one thousand years had been over for some time now. His men had started living with a little hope that one day there would be a light at the end of the tunnel for them. That love was something they would eventually know. Once the mark had come and gone nearly one hundred years before, each day brought them the truth, that they were not yet worthy of love.
Until today. When Rayne had scented the woman in the air. In an amusement park of all things.
Seven hundred years ago, this acreage had been the land of the Powtoken tribe, inhabitants who had been good to them when they first reached the shores of the new world. The peoples of Europe had become too guarded, and with the onslaught on the Black Death, anyone considered different or strange was burned at the stake, blamed for bringing plague to their doors. A band of Berserkers, although feared by most, could have eventually been tracked down by a scared group of humans with pitchforks and torches alá a Frankenstein movie. To protect themselves and the humans whose bravery almost matched their stupidity, they left for the shores they had heard tell of from Leif Erickson’s men.
Crossing the vast Atlantic had not been easy, the ship had hit hard waters and the men sulked for the life they were leaving behind. Hitting the shores of Greenland, they had traveled south looking for more temperate climates. After hundreds of years trapped in snow and ice each winter, they wanted warmth. But they could not resist the urge to stay close to water, and the bounty it provided them, so they stayed close to shore as they went deeper into the land.
As they moved, they met with many of the indigenous tribes of men. So much different than the Europeans, these people were one with the land, communicated with the spirit world, and held a greater knowledge than any of the other humans they had ever come into contact with. Many of the tribes were kind to them, but wary as well. A few attacked, unsure of the pale-faced males they came into contact with, sensing the animal within them.