Valkyrie Rising (29 page)

I didn’t let myself wonder what that kiss meant in the grand scheme of things, or about the fact that Tuck’s hands were everywhere, pushing things pretty far past anything resembling friendship. Maybe this would ruin everything. Maybe Tuck just wanted me for that day—to slash and burn the undergrowth of longing that had rooted itself in our friendship. And maybe even if we wanted more, it would never work in the real world, back where Tucker Halloway was my brother’s best friend and a boy who collected crushes like other boys collect comic books.

But I didn’t care. All that mattered was then, that moment. All I knew was I wanted him too. I’d wanted him for so unbearably long that I ached with relief to finally stop fighting it.

We must have been like that for a half hour, pressed against the railing of my grandmother’s porch, until I heard the crunch of gravel beneath tires. Margit had arrived—ready to drive us to our doom.

“Crazy about you, Ells,” Tuck said, breaking away and kissing my forehead. “Been fighting it for as long as I can remember.” He towed me toward the front of the house, but I dragged my feet, not ready for the night to begin and seriously needing a moment to fix my shirt.

“Why? Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Scared.”

“Of what? Me?”

“You don’t go after your best friend’s little sister.” His voice was strained. “Especially when he’s Graham. No one was ever good enough for you.”

Even though I dreaded the answer, given that he’d used past tense, I had to ask, “So what’s different now?”

“Nothing.”

We both knew he was lying. There was an army of bloodthirsty Valkyries standing between us and Graham’s disapproval. Valkyries who might very well kill all three of us before the night was out. If I pushed my line of questioning any further, I knew I wouldn’t like the answers I got.

Margit had climbed out of her car by the time we reached her. “Were you two just kissing?”

“I know, right?” Tuck grinned. “It was even better than I imagined.”

Margit rolled her eyes. “I don’t care.”

I was mortified, but Tuck smiled at me like I was a sunset he’d painted all by himself.

He dragged me into the back of Margit’s car, and I did a double take at the enormous radio consuming the entire passenger seat.

“It’s from a fishing boat. The range is hundreds of miles,” Margit said, following my gaze. “We’ve made contact all over Norway. If the Vals act tonight, we’ll know. We just have to hope they hit close enough that we can get you there fast. Not everyone agrees we should delay evacuation for you. Since no one’s actually in charge, there’s not much we can do to force the issue. We’ll stick to the central highway—best route to everywhere.”

“I really appreciate everything you’re doing,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Don’t think you can be nice and win me over,” Margit growled, but all the edge was gone. “And I still don’t care what happens to you tonight. No puppy-love act will change that.”

That made Tuck laugh as he reached out and wrapped one long arm around me. For once I was glad European cars were so cozy. I could have sat like that all night, with my head resting against his chest. It was enough to make me forget everything and to just relax into a moment of pure contentment, even if it lasted only for an instant

We drove up and down the highway for thirty minutes before we heard anything over the radio other than static. The first crackly voice that broke through the sizzling silence was just calling for a status check. Each of the surveillance teams radioed in to report that they’d seen nothing. I counted twelve different groups out stalking the Valkyries that night. I had to believe it would be enough, and that we’d find them.

“What if they don’t show up tonight?” I whispered. We’d put everything on the line. It was just five short hours before dawn. This plan could not fail.

Tuck squeezed my shoulder, but that was hardly enough to reassure me as minutes fused into a half hour. Just when I was ready to explode from impatience, the radio crackled to life a second time and a voice spoke excitedly in some sort of code. A series of numbers that sounded like coordinates. “They’ve found them,” I said. This was it—our last chance. The jittery feeling was back, shooting through my body like electricity.

Margit whipped across three lanes of traffic, almost sideswiping a station wagon, and flew up the nearest exit ramp. She sped across the overpass and accelerated onto the freeway in the opposite direction, weaving through traffic like a suspect in a high-speed chase.

“Where are we going?” I asked, as if it made any difference which town would host our final showdown.

“Bodahl,” she said, hitting the gas—hard.

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled into a typical Norwegian fishing village. It skirted the sea, just like Skavøpoll, but instead of a narrow marina hugging the land, Bodahl had a broad pier extending deep into the fjord and disappearing into the darkness.

Not a single window on the main street through the town cast light out onto the vacant street. It would have felt deserted if not for the rectangles of illumination cast through the trees by the homes on the surrounding hills. But not for long. I could sense Astrid and other Valkyries, speeding closer through the night, energy flooding the shrinking distance between us.

Margit eased her car into a parking spot in front of the only bar in town. She clicked off the headlights and slid down low enough in her seat that she couldn’t be seen from the road. “The Range Rover must have just driven into town,” Margit whispered as the radio crackled to life again and a deep voice echoed through the car, telling us to hold position. “You’re on your own,” she said. “But we’ll pull the bar’s fire alarm if anyone is in danger.”

“Right,” I said.

“I almost forgot. Take this.” She tossed me a small handheld radio. “The range is only one kilometer, but at least we’ll hear what happens inside. Not like there’s much we can do to help if things get ugly.”

“Thanks.” I slid the radio into my jacket pocket. I was surprised when she met my gaze and nodded in the rearview mirror.

“Good luck.”

We had to move fast, before Astrid and crew snatched whoever they were coming for and left. I followed Tuck across the street and into a world of pounding bass. A nightclub like that was honestly the last thing I expected to find in such a seemingly silent small town—and it was packed. Everyone was older than college age and was dressed in the hip, sleek clothes you’d expect in a city, but that were oddly out of place in the middle of nowhere. It had to be the hot spot for every village within fifty miles.

The moment we entered, a bouncer pounced on us. Before he had a chance to block our path, I looked him right in the eye and shook my head. His pupils widened before taking on a vacant, disinterested glaze as he settled back onto his stool by the door.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Tuck said, turning abruptly and grabbing me by both shoulders. He hesitated. The eyes that had been open and warm only moments ago retreated, back to the heavily guarded territory I thought we’d left behind. He was up to something—there was no other explanation for that half smile. “I love you. Whatever happens tonight doesn’t change that. Just don’t forget it. No matter what.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. He had buried the most important part in a forest of vague statements that unleashed liquid suspicion right into my veins. “This isn’t the time for one of your games, Tuck. This is serious.”

“I should have just told you. Now I waited too long.” He swore under his breath as he stared off through the crowd. “They’re here. Take this.” He pressed a folded slip of paper into my hand. “It’s Norse. Old school. Back to the Vikings. It represents separation—when a Valkyrie leaves the fold, so to speak. Hilda put it on those necklaces she gave to Kjell and Graham. But you can put it directly on your skin. Preferably in a place they can’t remove without killing you. It’s worked for me, at least. When Astrid crushed that necklace, I did this.” He slid the sleeve of his T-shirt back just enough to reveal a series of crudely inked symbols on his shoulder blade. Like he’d drawn it while looking in a mirror.

“How do you know all that?” I demanded.

“It’s complicated,” he said, still avoiding my eyes. “You’ll have to trust me. And if I don’t get the chance to explain, my mother will.”

“Your mother?” I repeated, utterly astounded, given that his mother had nothing to do with any of this. Knowing Tuck, it was a safe bet he’d only called to let her know when he’d arrived safely. Plus he was talking like we’d never see each other again. “Why wouldn’t you be able to tell me?” I demanded. My heart was pounding so hard, it would have registered on a seismograph. “If you’re planning something stupid, I’ll kill you.”

“Can’t think of a better way to go.” He cracked a lopsided grin. “You need to just trust me.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because you’re not doing it,” he shot back. “Besides, it’s too late. You have to do what I say or we blow this. It’s our last chance.”

The fire alarm exploded to life. It took everyone on the dance floor a solid thirty seconds to realize that the shrill screech wasn’t just part of the music. When they did, we were crushed by a surge of bodies rushing toward the door. Tuck’s hand disappeared, but he pushed his way back to me again and pulled us both into a corner sheltered from the mayhem. The crowd churned in panic, jostling and shoving. A pretty girl was shoved to the ground by a brutish boy who would have drooled all over her minutes earlier. Fortunately, another boy pulled her to her feet before she was trampled. There’s nothing like an emergency to show your true colors.

The sounding of the alarm meant that Astrid was already here. If Margit had had anything to say about it, they wouldn’t have pulled the alarm unless there was no other way to keep everyone safe.

“Game time.” Tuck pushed the personal locator beacon into my hand. “It’s too dangerous to plant the beacon on one of them. You can put it in their car.”

He grinned, like he’d just had this stroke of genius. But his mouth curved up at one corner. He was still up to something.

“Where will you be?” I demanded.

“You get the dangerous part because you’re faster. I’ll stand guard out front in case they come out. I’ll wait for you there.” He said it like it should have been obvious. Which was step one of the Tucker Halloway bulldozing machine. Either I was being paranoid or Tuck was playing me. What thoughts were spinning behind his unnaturally serene smile?

Still, Tuck would be out front. Safe. Ultimately, that was all that mattered. While he waited for me, I’d have a golden opportunity to sneak back into the club and confront Astrid. Tuck wouldn’t know a thing about it until it was too late.

Tuck grabbed my hand and plunged through the crowd, pulling us both through the flow of people. Once outside, I held my breath, eyes searching the road outside for any sign of the Range Rover. People cluttered the sidewalk; girls in clubbing dresses and high heels hugged themselves and shivered in the night air. No one noticed the two of us, huddled together by the door.

“There,” Tuck said, pointing toward the alley a half block away. The glow of headlights reflected off the asphalt. “Hurry.”

Astrid assumed no one was capable of an effective counterassault, which made my mission all too easy. I dropped to the ground on the pavement next to the back of the SUV and wedged the tiny transponder up underneath the metal bracket holding the bumper in place. Even a head-on collision wouldn’t pry it loose.

I straightened, brushing the crusted dirt and oil residue off my fingers and onto my jeans. A rectangle of light on the alley wall marked the club’s back door. I peered into the darkened club. Astrid was there. The connection between us clawed at the corners of my mind, urging me to join her. I would never get another chance like this.

Tuck would be furious when he realized I wasn’t coming back and that I had my own plan. But I couldn’t let that stop me. This was the only way.

I pushed the door open and strained my eyes, searching the club. In the corner, half hidden by a row of bar tables, four figures were clustered. My eye was drawn instantly to the tallest, the one with radiant blond hair. Even though her back was to me, I knew it was her. Astrid.

She had a stocky boy by the chin and lowered her face to look directly into his eyes. Her companions stood by, hands resting on the weapons I knew were concealed underneath their perfectly tailored jackets. They were standing with their backs to half the room. They had grown too accustomed to not being challenged, which I could use to my advantage.

Astrid’s graceful movements were fractured by flashes from the strobe light. In those frozen moments, I watched the boy’s eyes change from dark to milky white, just as Tucker Halloway stepped right up behind Astrid. Confidence incarnate. Like he was planning to tap her on the shoulder and ask her for the next dance.

I was so confused, it took me painfully long to unglue my feet from the floor. Tuck was supposed to be out front. Out of harm’s way. But there he stood, larger than life. I lurched forward. But there was no way I could reach him before Astrid sank her manicured talons into him.

My stomach slammed into the floor as Astrid reached one arm behind her and grabbed Tucker by the throat without even turning to confirm he was there. Her eyes skimmed the room. Until they found me.