Viking King (The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors, Book 1) (26 page)

“She’s right.” Amber flicked her wrist as if to wave away any extra concerns. “It’s all behind you now.”

“Listen, are you hungry?” Sean intercepted. “Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. You name it, I’ll get it.”

Their eyes met. His voice was strained. He was uncomfortable and that didn’t often happen to Sean. Though it was obvious they were on a beautiful campaign to assuage her fears, Megan shook her head and frowned at him. “Sean, what happened to me…at least from your end of things?”

When he didn’t answer immediately, she scrambled to the end of the bed, driving him back to a standing position. Megan stood but the room tilted and she plunked back down. Irritated, downright panicked, she glared up at him. “What
happened
to me?”

Sean crouched in front of her and braced his hands on the bed. “Tell you what, why don’t you let your sisters help you crawl into fresh sweats while I cook up some food. Then we’ll curl up on the couch downstairs and catch you up?”

Tempted to argue with him, Megan knew better. Sean had an unrelenting look in his eyes. So whatever had happened on their end had been intense. But what of her end…of Heidrek and Naðr and all that she’d left behind over a thousand years ago?

Caught in a moment, downright frightened, she grasped at her back. “Where’s my pack?”

“Downstairs and safe.” Concern flickered in Sean’s eyes. “Shower. Relax. It’ll be waiting for you.”

“Did you open it?”

“No.”

She hitched her jaw, unsure. “Why?”

“Because you asked us not to,” Veronica said softly.

“I did?”

“You did.” Sean helped her to her feet, making sure she was steady. “How do you feel now, sweetheart?”

“Honestly? Sad.” She squeezed his supportive hands, thankful. “The dizziness is gone. I’m okay.”

He cocked his head and peered at her. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. What do want to eat?”

“Coffee. Lots of it.”

“Gonna eat the fresh grounds directly from the can?”

“You bet.”

“Done.”

“You remind me of Kol, smart ass.”

“I know, sweetie.” Sean handed her off to her waiting sisters.

“You do?”

But he gave no answer as he set out presumably to brew coffee. After that, everything was a blur made of warm sluicing water then cozy sweats before she found herself with a blissfully hot cup of coffee in hand. Though she looked for Aesa’s Valkyrie perched on her deck railing, it wasn’t there.

So she grabbed the manuscript waiting patiently on her desk, right where she’d left it.

A fire crackled on the hearth and a cold beer sat on the table beside her before they all settled down and made idle conversation. Not a fool, Megan knew what they were doing. Helping her ease into a reality that she wasn’t altogether sure was hers. But they seemed to understand that too.

Thumbing her finger over and over Naðr’s name on page-number-whatever of the manuscript, she’d finally had enough. “Okay, tell me what happened.”

Amber and Veronica glanced at one another.

It seemed Veronica had been designated to speak first in what Megan didn’t doubt was a pre-planned conversation. “You, Nathan, and the divers never came up. We stayed out there until midnight but had to come in because of the storm.”

Megan wasn’t the sort to speculate on whether everything she’d experienced was a dream. She knew it wasn’t. “Then?”

“It was stipulated in Nathan’s will that all measures be taken to find his body in the case of his untimely death,” Veronica said, the lawyer that she
should
be kicking in. “So when the storm abated, dive teams were sent out. Nothing was found.”

“Nothing?” Megan said, her heart pounding a bit harder because she intended to hire her own team.

“Nothing,” Veronica confirmed. “The ocean floor at our location and miles surrounding are clear of artifact, Viking or otherwise.”

“You’re wrong,” Megan said.

“I’m telling you what I was told,” she countered.

Megan brushed it aside. Of course she was. Veronica had no reason to lie. She’d follow up with her own team later.

“Are you all right, sis?” Amber murmured.

“I’m fine,” Megan snapped and closed her eyes to the wounded look on her youngest sister’s face. With a deep inhale, she met Amber’s eyes and worked hard at a soft smile. “Just tense, sis. It’s been difficult.”

“No prob,” Amber said easily but it was obvious this ordeal, whatever it’d been from their side, had put a lot of strain on her. Good thing Sean was a strong shoulder for her sister to lean on.

“Tell me the rest,” Megan said, determined to stay stable, unwavering…determined to get the feel of losing Heidrek and watching Naðr’s ship go down out of her head.

Veronica sat next to Megan and squeezed her hand while Sean continued.

“It’s been almost seventy-two hours and no sign of Nathan,” Sean said. “They’ll keep searching but with the current water temperature it doesn’t look good.”

Because he died at the top of a Scandinavian mountain.

But she didn’t say that.

“How did I survive then?”

Megan didn’t miss the looks exchanged between them before Amber blurted out, “You washed up, nude, right in front of your house, sis. We found Guardian and the cylinder with you.”

So there went the proof of Viking clothing.

She shook her head. “Impossible, Guardian was dragging Heid—”

“We know. Heidrek,” Veronica offered, eyes gentle as they met Megan’s. “You told us many times.”

Megan’s eyes watered but before she could speak, Sean cut in. “You said a lot when you were in the hospital. Though in and out, you spoke of a whole other world. Ninth century Scandinavia to be exact. Naðr Véurr and his brothers Raknar and Kol.”

“Then there was Kjar. You called him a magic man,” Veronica murmured.

“And Meyla and Valan.” Amber grinned even though she didn’t mean to. “I kinda like them…and Kol,” she said as an afterthought. “Bonafide troublemaker that one.”

But it was Veronica’s words that ensnared Megan and she probably looked at her for the first time with genuine need for guidance. “How do I know Heidrek is okay? I tried so hard to save him.”

Veronica’s eyes filled with moisture, but she quickly blinked it away, realizing she needed to be the strong one now. “Focus on those last moments you had together, that you stayed strong. He knew you were coming for him. That means everything. Hold onto that for now then we’ll go from there, okay?”

Spoken from the heart, Veronica’s advice was that of a woman who had lost a child. Megan leaned her head against her sister’s shoulder. “You’re right, sis.”

From there her sisters and Sean let the conversation flow slow and easy.

Too easy.

Though happy to be in the present, every second of every minute her mind was on Naðr. The devastation of seeing his ship go down, of potentially having lost him, gnawed at her.

“Where’s the cylinder that was attached to my back?”

The room fell silent as Sean left.

She looked at her sisters. “What?”

Amber handed her the beer. “Why don’t you drink a bit.”

The look on Megan’s face had her sister setting it aside quickly and plunking down across from her, an unnatural frown on her face.

“She’s just looking out for you,” Veronica muttered under her breath.

“Looking out for me how?”

Though Amber might’ve seemed reluctant and borderline deflated moments before, she piped right up. “You told us whatever’s in that cylinder would take you back to,” she made quotation marks in the air, "Naðr Véurr.” Then her little sister sounded downright incredulous. “Ever since your accident you’re convinced that you traveled back in time to ancient Scandinavia.”

Blindsided, she looked from Amber to Veronica. “We haven’t had a chance to talk but…you both think I’m making this up, don’t you?”

“All we’ve done is talk,” Amber defended.

“When she was looped on medication,” Veronica countered and sighed as she wrapped her arm around Megan’s shoulders and met her eyes. “She’s worried. As am I. Forgive us.”

Fine. Whatever. Still.

Megan felt so lost, adrift, confused. She wished Naðr was here, that he was alive and could make sense of this. But he wasn’t and couldn’t…no…because he was long dead.

Sean rejoined them. “Here they are.”

Megan launched from the couch and grabbed the pouch that had been strapped to her back. “The stone and the cylinder.” She frowned at the box with the other two stones that had been in her garage. “Why that?”

“You asked for both items.”

“I did?”

“Many times.”

“Oh.” She reluctantly took the box as well and nodded. “Thanks.”

But Sean didn’t let go entirely of the pouch, his eyes firm on hers. “I won’t hand this over if you don’t sit down right now and tell your sisters about what’s in that box from start to finish.”

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Yes. Now.”

Megan swallowed hard. Crap. He meant it…and he was right. But how could she tell them without sounding nuts? “They won’t believe me.”

“I barely believe you but here I am,” he answered. “Give them the benefit of the doubt. Let them into the confusion and terror you’ve been feeling for far too long.”

“Not terror really,” she defended.

“Share,” he reiterated.

“Fine,” she huffed but Sean knew she meant no harm as he plunked down next to Amber. Megan sunk to her knees within feet of the fire. How was she supposed to go about this when even she was wondering what had happened? Truly, she’d gone out diving then maybe…just maybe…she had a dream…

But as Megan opened the box and poured out the contents of the bag that Naðr strapped to her back hours, a day, a thousand years before, she had a strong sense that her Viking king was forever by her side.

Her stone.

The cylinder.

Tokens that had been in his hands rolled onto the floor. Blinking away tears, she explained the stones, the symbols etched on them and all she’d learned in ninth century Scandinavia about the seers, even the dragon brothers. Either her sisters would believe her or not. She wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t. Because she sounded insane.

When she was finished, silence fell, long and heavy.

Veronica handed Megan the beer and she took a hearty swallow. Then her sister leaned forward, concerned. “Sweetie, you already shared all of this and we’re still trying to figure out what to make of it.” Her eyes went to the cylinder. “What we want to know is what’s in that?”

Jaw set, Megan glared at them. “You could have told me that I’d already covered all this. What was the point in making me relive it all again?”

“We needed to hear it, all of it, from you,” Sean said.

When Megan frowned, Amber shrugged. “Sorry sis, we just wanted to see if you’d say the same things now that you’re off the drugs. You did.”

Dumbfounded, Megan shot, “So does that mean you believe me, now? Does it make any of this real?”

“Open the cylinder,” Sean said. “That will be real, Megan.”

If she didn’t love them all so much, she might’ve told them to go to hell. But the people in this room cared about her and damn if she didn’t know it. So, determined to keep thoughts of Naðr far from her mind, she nodded. “Fine.”

But even as she twisted the cap on the cylinder she thought of the first time she’d found it on the longship settled beneath the Atlantic. Then Naðr strapping it to her back, worried over her welfare.

“Shoot,” she whispered and hung her head. “I want to see what’s in this…and I don’t.”

“Then I’ll open it for you.” Megan’s eyes shot open as Veronica knelt in front of her and grabbed the cylinder. “Ready?”

Megan shook her head and snatched it back. “No, I’ll do it. It’s meant for me. My way back to him.”

“I know.”

This was it. A choice. Given to her. Take it or leave it.

She closed her eyes. As if it had just happened she was back on the longship, Naðr’s words and actions echoing in her mind.
“Besides me, only Megan will ever know what’s in this cylinder because it is hers alone.” Naðr’s tender hand closed over her shoulder, his fingers dusting her tattoo. “As to what she’s been marked with, it is a claiming of the seers.” His hand squeezed gently. “She is here for me.”

“Is it there still?” she asked, clasping at her shoulder.

“The hot new tattoo that magically appeared? Sure is.” Amber grinned. “And it’s fabulous might I add.”

“Agreed,” Veronica said.

“Aren’t you curious where I got it?” she asked, seeing her chance to make them believe.

“You told us. In Scandinavia.” Sean sat next to her. “Hun, this is a lot for us to swallow but trust me we’re working on it. For all we know you could have gotten that tat before all this happened, especially considering your infatuation with the markings on the stone.” He nodded at the cylinder. “Are you ready now?”