Vicar (Viking Ancestors: Forged in Fire, #4), page 2
“Where is she?” he roared, striding for the deck, fully Múspellsheimr now and in no mood for games. Particularly the sort Trinity played. “Tell her to get out here.”
Even as he said it, he knew she was gone, no longer in the twenty-first century, but that didn’t slow him down any. He strode up the stairs, ready to find out where she went by any means necessary. Only it didn’t quite go that way when the black-haired woman who could only be Raven turned berserker and whipped fiery arrows at him.
“Stay away from my sister, asshole,” she roared in return, clearly buying Trinity time. “She doesn’t want to see you!”
“Now that’s where you’re wrong,” he shot back, dodging her arrows. He was never so certain of anything. “Whether she knows it or not, your sister wants to see me,” he assured with dark promise. “And she will once I catch her.”
“Which won’t be right now, cousin,” Dagr informed, appearing alongside Maya and Tor moments before Vicar dodged another one of Raven’s arrows and lunged at her. Or tried to before he slammed into a translucent wall made of Dagr and Maya’s Helheim magic.
“Thor’s thunder,” Vicar growled, unable to go any further. He glared at Dagr. “I wasn’t going to hurt them.”
Not really. Not badly, anyway. Just some solid intimidation. Pain only if necessary. He chuckled when his inner Sigdir bristled at his thoughts. Best his other half stay repressed for the time being. He couldn’t handle Trinity if he tried.
“Raven,” the woman who could only be Elsie exclaimed when Raven’s eyes rounded in horror at Tor of all people, and she stumbled back.
“What’s happening?” Maya gave Dagr and Tor a look telling them to keep an eye on Vicar, and darted up the opposite stairs after her sister. “Oh my God, Raven!” A soupy black aura had started pulsing around Raven, and her eyes had turned to oil slicks. “We need to get you inside away from all this so I can get your positive energy up.”
Vicar had never felt anything quite like what was coming off of Raven. Darkness, to be sure. Maybe even darker than the enemy they had recently fought, which said something considering it was pure Evil. It seemed to be building around her like a tidal wave, swelling not in his direction but Tor’s.
“Get out of here,” Dagr roared at Vicar, seeing it as well. “Take Tor and go. Maya and I will see to Raven.”
Though torn, wanting more answers, he would protect Tor above all others because if whatever was building inside Raven unleashed on him, Vicar knew it would be the end of Tor. No one could survive it.
“Oh, dear,” Elsie exclaimed, admirably level despite the three water spouts that had formed over the dark sea as it sucked back, indicating an incoming tsunami. She waved loosely at the terror unfolding and ushered Raven inside the best she could. “That needs to be dealt with immediately.”
Meanwhile, Tor seemed frozen in place, staring at Raven like she had come for his soul. Like he might even deserve it.
“Go,” Dagr roared at Vicar again, frowning at the weather and ocean. “Maya and I will handle this.”
Vicar nodded and flew back down the stairs, fighting the wind as the tornadoes grew closer, undoubtedly hungry for Tor.
“Come, brother.” He didn’t waste time trying to convince Tor but clasped his shoulders and drove him back against the tree, willing it to take them where it would.
Willing it, if possible, to help him pursue Trinity.
Thankfully, it took them swiftly. Unfortunately, he had no idea where they ended up when the tree vanished, and they were thrust into complete darkness.
Until their dragon sight took over, that is.
“Where are we?” he grunted. While tempted to study their surroundings, his Sigdir side had surfaced just enough to keep putting Tor first. He frowned at his cousin. “Are you well now? You seemed...”
Before he could say terrified, something no male dragon wanted to be called, Tor nodded and met his frown. “All is well.”
“What happened? It appeared—”
“All’s well,” Tor reiterated. Rather than focus on his own issues, he clasped Vicar’s shoulders and met his eyes. “What of you, brother? Have you leveled some?” Before Vicar could respond to the one person outside of Trinity who could pull his Sigdir side back to the surface, Tor’s brows shot up in surprise. “It seems you are without me doing a thing.”
Vicar frowned and rolled his shoulders, realizing Tor was right. His Sigdir side was sidling right past his inner Múspellsheimr no matter how much he tried to fight it.
Tor narrowed his eyes, sensing him easily enough. “Why would you try to fight it?”
“I don’t know.” He raked a hand through his hair, as always, jarred by his personalities transitioning. The sense of lightheartedness he wasn’t sure he should feel. “Something about Trinity...” Vicar glanced around, still trying to pinpoint their location. “It’s starting to feel familiar here, but I’ve never been...” He trailed off when he spied the slight sparkle of a cave. “It cannot be.”
Tor flinched when he realized where they were too. One of the very few caves influenced by Alfheim, or elven magic, in the Realm. They had no idea why their great serpent ancestor Níðhöggr had used part of their world when making this Realm, considering it was generally off-putting to dragons, but he had. While Tor might have explored these caves in their youth, Vicar’s Múspellsheimr side had disliked them immensely, so he’d avoided them like the plague.
Yet now, here he was, and, alarmingly enough, he felt rather at ease.
“Do you?” came an all-too-familiar voice from deep in the darkness. “Are you at ease now, Vicar?”
Trinity.
He narrowed his eyes, trying to catch sight of her, but she kept well hidden. Intrigued rather than upset like his other half would have been, he grinned, wondering at her game. “Why not come closer and find out, Trinity?”
“Because you’re just a little bit terrifying when you’re in a Múspellsheimr mood,” she replied. “And I’m not up for it right now.”
“Where sometimes you are?” he responded, certain of it, feeling her from the inside out for a flicker of a moment. “Why is that?”
“I was hoping you could tell me,” she returned, keeping with an honesty his Sigdir side appreciated. One his Múspellsheimr half would distrust. “Who are you to me, Vicar? How do I know you?”
Because they did know each other, didn’t they?
“It must be like it was for Thorulf and Jade,” Tor suggested. “They knew each other long before they met but had no recollection of it.”
“Impossible,” he muttered. He loved his brother but refused to believe such a thing could happen to him too. “If my Sigdir side didn’t recall it, my Múspellsheimr half surely would have.”
Yet a nagging voice in his mind, his inner Sigdir, told him it was possible.
“Come closer, Trinity,” he urged. “I won't hurt you.”
“I know,” she returned. “But your Múspellsheimr side will.”
He frowned, upset she felt that way even though she was right. His Múspellsheimr side wasn’t pleased with her and, granted, capable of things his Sigdir half wasn’t.
“What if Tor comes and talks to you first?” He was careful not to touch anything in a cave that could play tricks on dragons. That could cripple them. “Might you talk to him?”
“You mean the guy who affected my little sister so much?” she reminded. “Who made her super furious? I don’t think so.”
Vicar shrugged at Tor. She had a good point.
“It wasn’t my intention.” Though Tor frowned, he was curious. “Do you know why I frightened her? Made her so angry?”
“No,” she replied. “But I can tell you this. Raven’s never been so mad, and that’s saying something. Luckily Dagr and Maya got her under control for the safety of the entire Northeast because that would’ve been one heck of a tsunami.”
He was glad she was so connected because he’d received no such assurance from Dagr.
“Trinity?” Jade said, connecting telepathically with them all. “You’re here!” He could hear the confusion in her voice. “Where, though?”
“Beats me,” Trinity replied. “All I know is it’s a safe space. Somewhere Vicar can’t go all psycho.”
“There’s a place like that?”
“Seems so.”
When he scowled at Tor, his cousin only shrugged and grinned. “You do have a reputation.”
He did and didn’t much like it.
“Just come out, Trinity,” he called. “I assure you, I’m fully Sigdir at the moment and would like to meet you.”
“How do I know you’ll stay Sigdir?”
Though tempted to remind her that she’d not only called this place safe but dared him with her eyes in the flames at the ash, he knew better. Best to embrace his kind, softer side and get her out of the shadows. Make her feel safe. Because she was. Very much so. He would never harm her.
At least not his Sigdir half.
“See, now thoughts like that don’t help you any,” she grumbled, reading his mind far too easily. “I think I’m good right here.”
“Right here,” he murmured, realizing he could follow her thoughts just as easily. In fact...
He closed his eyes and focused on the feel of her. How soft and feminine she was. The opposite of the creature he had encountered when he first traveled through the ash. He could admit he liked the feel of her dragon. The goodness in her. The overwhelming need to help others. Something she felt right now, whether she liked it or not.
So much so that she had sidled closer, wondering if he was okay.
She even wondered if Tor was all right after being subjected to Raven. He kept his eyes closed and focused. Moved past her mind to what she saw. Three shimmering stalactites. Two big boulders. One smaller moss-covered one. He opened his eyes and looked around for those landmarks, only to realize she was close.
Close enough that he finally closed the distance and confronted the woman who thought to tame him.
Chapter Three
Scandinavia
960. A.D.
WHERE TRINITY HAD thought she was getting a good idea of how different she was after the Forge began, she had no clue until she traveled back in time. More specifically, until she and Vicar stood face to face during that fiery transition.
For a brief moment, holding her ground against his Múspellsheimr side, she had become a different person. She’d been able to stand strong against a beast that would normally make her run in the opposite direction. Stood strong against a dragon who would have never been her type but sparked her every nerve ending.
Sparked more than that, actually.
She had expected Vicar to be good-looking based on what she’d heard of the others but not so ruggedly handsome and certainly not that alluring in his primal state. But something about his longish dark hair, searing gold eyes, and the tattoo plastered across his broad, buff chest had her inner beast squirming in anticipation. More than that?
It made her strong.
Far stronger than she usually was.
That was the only way to describe what she’d felt earlier. When she had faced off with him in the fire between times, she was ten times more kick-ass than Jade. More in charge of her emotions than she’d ever been. Not kind and passive, but confrontational. Unwilling to take no for an answer when it came to balancing Vicar’s turbulent personality shifts.
She would fix him.
Until then, Loki’s Dagger would be hers, and she would control him.
Or so she thought until she landed in this quiet, dark, glittering cave that reminded her she wasn't a bully. She didn’t take what she wanted. When she helped men, it was by no means with the intention of controlling them. That wasn’t how people helped each other. That wasn’t who she was.
Yet when Vicar sniffed, better yet sensed, her out in no time and held out a kind hand to where she crouched behind a rock, she knew the dagger had to stay with her. She wasn’t sure why considering his remarkable transformation, but she knew, for now, it must.
“I’m okay,” she managed, her voice a weak squeak when he held out his hand. “Thanks.”
She stood, not surprised that he somehow seemed much taller now than he had in the fire. Then again, she’d grown much smaller when it came to courage. She blinked and cleared her throat, caught off guard to find him just as much if not more attractive now. Was that a dimple in his right cheek when he grinned at her? Had his features been that chiseled before with just a hint of a cleft in his chin? Surely not. He’d seemed hot but hard-featured. Lethal versus charming.
“I’m good,” she assured again, clearing her throat, trying not to sound wobbly. She stood on her own, dug her sweaty hands into her hoodie, and nodded once at both Tor and Vicar. Dear Lord, they made these Sigdirs big, didn’t they? She tried not to stare at Vicar’s broad shoulders but at his eyes. Probably not the best idea because they made it hard to speak, let alone think clearly and say something halfway intelligent. “I really am good.” She kept nodding like a fool. “And it’s a good place.”
A good place? She nearly rolled her eyes. A mere minute ago, she had sounded halfway intelligent and cautious. Now, confronted with the new, upbeat Vicar, she’d turned into a rambling idiot.
“It’s a better place than I would have thought,” Vicar conceded, his deep voice vibrating right down to parts of her men never reached. His steady, inquisitive gaze remained on her face, his kindness obvious once one looked past all the inner conflict. He introduced himself, and Tor then cocked his head. “Why did you bring us here?”
Because she had, hadn't she?
“I’m not sure.” She eyed the stunning cave. “It was my inner dragon. She knew I’d be safe here...”
“From me?” Vicar prompted when she trailed off, trying to figure out why this place felt so kindred. So incredibly familiar.
“I think so...sort of.” She decided to avoid his eyes to maintain sanity. “It definitely has to do with you...or half of you.”
“It did suppress your Múspellsheimr side,” Tor pointed out to Vicar. “I didn’t realize this area could do that.”
While Tor, with his classic Viking looks, seemed kind enough, she sensed various things running beneath his handsome façade. Inner anguish that flowed deep. Perhaps because of his love for Revna, the head seer who only loved him back when she felt like it? Then there was that whole Raven-going-demonic-on-him thing. That said something about him. But what? She’d never felt her sister get that enraged, and it was terrifying. Thank God Maya and Dagr were there to get things under control.
“I didn’t know this area could repress a side of me either,” Vicar said, echoing Tor’s sentiment. His curious gaze never left her face. “I’m fairly certain it couldn’t when I was younger.”
“Which was the last time you came here,” she surmised. Drawn by the glittering rock in a way she hadn’t been when she first arrived, she ran her fingers along the stone closest to her, surprised by the warmth that curled up her fingers and arm.
Vicar sensed it because his eyes narrowed. “What was that you just felt?”
She shook her head, uncertain yet somehow certain all at once. “I’m not sure...yet it’s familiar.”
Just like everything about him.
“What is this place exactly?” She shifted away from him for no other reason than his scent was becoming too overwhelming. Not like a guy wearing too much cologne but in a far more primal way. He smelled like an intoxicating mix of wild sea and chilled spicy pine that appealed to her human and dark, dangerous smoky fire that appealed to her inner beast.
When Tor explained where they were, that this cave harnessed the magic of the Norse world Alfheim, home of the light elves, it felt right. Perfectly natural that she would end up here.
“Oh, I’ve so been looking forward to seeing you,” Jade exclaimed, appearing at one of the cave entrances in all her insta-Viking glory. From her fur-trimmed sexy boots to her cleavage revealing leather tunic, she'd made herself right at home in this era. She strode toward Trinity with an I’m-so-proud-of-you look, embraced her, then held her at arm’s length beaming. “Just think, my good-girl little sister has grown up into a proper bad-girl.” Her brows shot up, and her smile grew wider. “Who knew?”
“I’m not a bad girl,” she muttered, frowning at Jade yet happy to see her. Happy to no longer be alone in this strange place with stranger men. Three now after Thorulf entered and kept a protective eye on Jade while scanning the cave warily.
“Right, not bad or naughty at all.” Jade gave her an exaggerated wink, then grinned at Vicar like they were old chums. “So I see she’s already got you right where she wants you.” She eyed their surroundings as warily as Thorulf. “Which is where again, exactly?”
“A cave built with Alfheim magic,” Vicar divulged. “Somewhere I don’t recommend we dragons stay too long.” His gaze never strayed from Trinity. “Not when I’d much rather bring Trinity to the Keep and introduce her to everyone.” He offered a loose shrug, repeating what Jade had said with his own spin. “She can keep me there as easily as she can here.”
While she suspected his Sigdir side saw the whole thing as flirtatious, she guaranteed his inner Múspellsheimr thought no such thing. She also sensed returning to the Keep would give his darker half free reign over his Sigdir side.
“No,” she blurted out, positive she wasn’t ready for that even as a small part of her wondered. Remained curious about her own ‘other side’ when it came to him. “I want to stay here for now.”
“Here?” Jade asked. “Why?” She shivered. “Aren’t you uncomfortable in this cave?”
“No.” She frowned. “Why would I be?”
“I dunno, sis, but like Vicar said, this place isn’t a good fit for dragons.” Jade narrowed her eyes at Trinity. “Though I definitely sense your dragon’s at ease here.” She arched a brow at Thorulf, who seemed ready to cut down the cave’s rock walls if they got any closer to Jade. “What do you make of that?”
