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ChapterEight
SUNDAY
The sun’s rays beamed in through the window at the end of the hall, bathing me in light and casting my walk of shame in stark relief as I skulked down the hallway and reached the door to my room.
“Oh, my God, there you are. We’ve been looking all over.” Moira’s voice caught me off guard as my fingers touched the doorknob.
My head snapped to the right, where I stared down the hall. She stood, her acid green asymmetrical bob nearly glowing in the light spilling through the window. A hulking god of a man stood next to her. His eyes were framed by full, dark lashes, the irises blue, vibrant, and piercing even from a distance. His complexion was tanned from hours spent in the sun, and his dirty blond hair was pulled up into a bun, with a thick, full beard lining his chiseled jaw. He looked like sin and sex and every fantasy I’d ever had about being rescued by a handsome warrior.
“I... had a nightmare. Went for a walk.”
I opened the door and stepped inside my room, where I found our small space ransacked. Clothes were strewn around, drawers hanging open, papers everywhere. “What the hell happened in here? You really are a slob.”
Moira shook her head, hands on her hips as she followed me inside. “I didn’t do this. Do you really think I would treat vintage Chanel like this?”
I stared her down, the argument on my lips before she finished.
She had the grace to look embarrassed. “Except for that first day. That doesn’t count.”
“And who are you?” I jerked my chin toward the Viking man leaning against the open door.
Smirking in a way that made his ice-blue eyes sparkle, he said, “Alek Nordson. And you’re the famous Sunday Fallon. You’ve got the whole university buzzing, you know?”
His accent was hard to place. It sounded British, but with occasionally clipped words that reminded me of the time a Norwegian shifter pack came to my grandfather’s house for a visit.
“Nordson? Scandinavian?”
That smirk widened. “Novasgardian.”
Interesting. Very interesting. I’d heard of them. Norse gods came from Novasgard, but they didn’t leave. They kept to themselves for the most part. If Alek was here, making contacts, learning to be an ambassador, that meant things were shifting. The thought of Norse gods joining our world, taking a more active role, made me nervous. There was already plenty of supernatural dick swinging going on between the vampires, shifters, witches, and fae. We didn’t need to add gods to the mix.
“Don’t tell me you’re the God of Thunder.”
Laughter rumbled from deep in his chest, making me feel foolish immediately. “Not thunder, no.”
“Wait, are you a god of something?”
“I suppose you’ll have to figure that out on your own, won’t you, Sunny?”
Moira tossed a shoe at him, missing by about a mile. “Leave her alone, Alek.” She turned her gaze on me. “I’m glad you’re not kidnapped. When we came home and saw the place was ransacked, I freaked.”
“Aw, you worried? You do care after all,” I teased.
She pretended to be unaffected, but couldn’t hide her grin. “It’s bad luck to be the one with the murdered roomie.”
I held out my hands. “Not murdered.”
“So where were you?”
“In a creepy vampire’s lair.”
Alek’s brows rose. “By choice?”
“Apparently he found me unconscious in the forest.” My voice was low as I fought the mortification of admitting I’d been asleep in the woods—and not on purpose.
“Oh, you can’t be serious. Sleepwalking wasn’t one of the categories I checked when selecting my roommate.” Moira flopped down on her clothes-covered bed.
“Well, smart-ass wasn’t one of the ones I checked, so it looks like we’re even,” I shot back.
