One Night With The Valkyrie. Jane GodmanЧитать онлайн книгу.
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