Page 53 of Between Bloode and Death (Between the Shadows #5)

CHAPTER

FIFTY-TWO

Rolf didn’t know how he’d gotten the short stick.

First, Khent and Val disappeared to go get naked and freaky while he got the third degree from fucking Mormo.

Then that sexy, scary, annoying female sent a message that they’d have to delay their search for the Bloode Stone because she had something pressing. More important than saving the world from Hecate’s “the Darkness That Comes.” Dun dun dun.

“So why do I have all the shit work, I ask you?” Stuck at the Beast Brigade cleaning up all of Val’s dead bodies, he stood around while a bunch of his wolf friends ate carcasses.

On loan from Alfheim, the wolves were a loose relation. Technically, Fenrir’s cousins. The wolf that would eventually kill that braggart, Odin. Fenrir was a hell of a frisbee golf player and all-around fun dude. So he had a temper. Who didn’t?

But one weird prophecy and everyone had a hard-on for the guy.

And speaking of hard-ons…

“That chick was into me, you know? She had some sexy guns. Not as nice as mine of course, but still.”

The wolf nearest him rolled his eyes and moved onto the next corpse.

Several of the dead bodies had already been shuttled to some ghoul dens courtesy of MEC, but the lycan bodies needed a different burial, according to Riley’s pack.

Personally, Rolf considered the dead the dead. Witch, lycan, or mage. They all ended up in the same place. Not next to him, so who cared?

He continued to complain until his cousin snapped at him.

Rolf snapped back then shifted into wolf form to tussle with the guys.

A few hours later, he treated himself to a trip to the bazaar to see how progress continued with the cleanup.

Two days later, the city was still in a state of panic.

As hard as MEC had tried, humans knew they’d seen some fucked-up crazy.

Monsters and demons running around Seattle!

Mages losing their heads! Limbs covered in green fuzz moving around on their own!

A sexy, blond, godlike figure beheading and crushing demons—how cool!

Needless to say, the nights had been pretty scarce in Capitol Hill lately.

Great for parking though.

He pulled in near the tiny gift shop they used as a cover and headed downstairs. The gargoyles that normally guarded the entrance nodded with deference.

One of them said, “Heard you fought alongside Grizz. He was much respected.”

Rolf nodded. “A hell of a fighter. That guy could pound a fist through a god and not feel it. He’s definitely in a wonderful afterlife. Probably protecting some baby magir somewhere.”

That seemed to cheer them up. One of them patted Rolf on the shoulder, and he pretended that didn’t hurt like hell.

Once inside the bazaar, he took his time moving around.

They’d made a lot of progress, all the magir coming together to put things back together.

The witch shop no longer had a replica of the Staff of Blight, he noticed.

Now they showcased a Cup of Plenty, supposedly once owned by Bacchus, that lush.

Rolf continued, keeping a low profile since most magir freaked out at the sight of vampires. But since he normally moved around, sight unseen thanks to his magic, it didn’t take him long to find the Ribald Unicorn.

He let himself be seen as he waved at Val, who was inside cleaning up alongside a pretty blond. Val saw him and waved back, nodding when he put a finger to his lips to keep her quiet about his presence.

Apparently, Talon had bequeathed the bar to his pack. So now the Ribald Unicorn was run by the Beast Brigade, which also had the full support of Valentine Darkmore of the Night Bloode.

No one would mess with the place since Val had staked a claim on behalf of Talon’s pack. And he’d overheard something about the Beast Brigade also owning a piece of the marketplace too. Again, something no one would question since Khent would do anything to make his pretty mate happy.

What a sap.

Rolf didn’t know how he felt about Val being a part of the Night Bloode. Especially knowing that an ancient creature of chaos lived on inside her. Her potential for trouble exceeded that of the other guys’ mates. But the thought of having to kill her would hurt Khent, and Rolf didn’t want that.

Ah, well. He’d worry about killing her another day.

Kaia and Orion liked her well enough. Though he appreciated the tension between Val and Macy. He couldn’t wait to see those two wrestle in Jello. Or mud. Or hell, even better, blood. It was only a matter of time before he could convince them to duke it out.

Varu and Kraft remained out of pocket while searching for the last Bloode Stone. Rolf could have told them to lay off. The stone had ventured into Norse lands.

Those idiot gods were dicking around in matters they had no business playing with. But since he owed some favors, he kept that to himself. Besides, Hecate knew, and she hadn’t pulled the guys from searching all over the place.

Maybe she didn’t trust Loki’s intel.

He wouldn’t—didn’t.

Besides, Rolf was having fun watching her and Mormo freak out every time they thought they might have a lock on it, the final Bloode Stone, the answer to all their problems.

Ha. Yeah, right.

Rolf wondered what the last battle might be like. He couldn’t wait to meet the Darkness That Comes. Chaos was lovely in all its forms. Yes, it made for complicated relationships and a lot of death. But what was life without an end?

He ordered a fae-blood to go and was waiting for it when someone ran into the bar.

“There’s a group of valkyries outside fighting!”

Everyone rushed out to watch.

Half a dozen gorgeous women pounded the shit out of each other. Dressed in trousers and sleeveless tunics with leather braids, wolf and bear pelts, and primitive-looking weapons, they seemed more like a horde of crazed wild women.

But Rolf recognized one particular loudmouth right off.

Long blue-black hair, eyes so pale gray they looked white. A face that could grace a thousand ships—take that, ugly Helen of Troy—and a body that…damn. As before, the female got a rise out of him without trying.

That rarely happened.

Rolf was attracted to looks, form, and power. The more powerful, the greater the attraction.

But this draw toward the obnoxious warrior he’d previously fought warned him to be wary. There was something off about her.

So of course she saw through his glamour of invisibility and pointed. “Him! I told you. It wasn’t me. It was him.”

She must have done something to dissolve his magic since they suddenly seemed to see him.

And then they were giving chase, and just for fun, he ran.

Amused and inspired by the magic weapons they wielded, he had to laugh at all the swearing and hexing as they lobbed serious curses his way.

Now he had an excuse to get even with the aggravating valkyrie.

And no one knew revenge like a draugr raised in secret by Loki himself, god of mischief and all-around baller.

Rolf would very much show Ms. Lightning Eyes a very good time. Right before he drained her dry.