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“I… okay.” I take a seat. “Thank you.”
“You’ve gotta try this bacon,” Inferno says, pointing at the meat on my plate. “Fuck, I’ve missed bacon.”
“We eat like kings back home,” Reaper comments after swallowing. “How could you possibly miss anything?”
“I miss a lot of shit,” Inferno snaps.
“Not me. I hated my life.” Reaper grins. “Death and the afterlife is better.”
“That’s enough!”
We all freeze at Ms. Steinbeck’s shout. She strides to the table, her hands on her hips, and purses her lips.
“You aren’t in Valhalla anymore so any talk of death and the afterlife must cease,” she instructs. After glancing at the clock on the wall, she huffs out a breath. “You have ten minutes to finish your breakfast. Then we need to get to work.”
All conversation stops as we fill our bellies. Reaper is right… We do eat like kings at home, but Ms. Steinbeck is a pretty damn good cook.
Once our plates are empty, Ms. Steinbeck carries them away, one by one. The table is cleared, and we all pitch in to help her finish cleaning. Ten minutes later, the room is spotless, and we’re ordered into the living room.
“Congratulations. You’ve all completed your first lesson,” Ms. Steinbeck beams.
“All we did was eat,” Acid states matter-of-factly.
“You ate a meal like civilized humans rather than warriors who are used to stuffing your faces with fresh boar. You’d be surprised how many times warriors fail at something as simple as eating.”
“Seriously?” I ask, my tone disbelieving.
“Yes, Viking, seriously.”
“I guess we’re just smarter than everyone else,” Demo comments with a cheeky grin.
“We’ll see about that.” Ms. Steinbeck hands each of us a folder. “In there, you’ll find all the information you need to successfully complete your mission.”
“I have to ensure some chick gets details about Valhalla correct,” I say as I open the packet and start scanning the documents. When I was alive, I didn’t know how to read but over time, I learned. “How hard could it possibly be?”
Ms. Steinbeck smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, well…” She flips open the front flap of her folder. “Thechickyou refer to is Makayla Elizabeth Ashbridge. She’s twenty-seven years old and currently working on her doctorate in mythological studies at a university in Indiana. Ma—”
“You mean she’s not a child?” Inferno demands.
“Of course, she’s not a child.” Ms. Steinbeck glances from him to me and back again, an odd expression on her face. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Odin said…” I press my lips closed and recall the words my god actually spoke.She’s working on a project for school.“He never gave me her age.”
“What very little information he gave you is irrelevant. Never make assumptions, Viking.” She arches a defined brow. “You of all people should know that.”
My anger spikes, and I shoot up from the couch. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Sit down,” she snaps.
“Listen, lady,” I begin. “I don’t take orders from anyone, especially not some little old lady from Ohio.”
Without warning, Ms. Steinbeck shimmers, her entire being disappearing for a moment only to return inches from me.
Aw, shit.
“I’m not somelittle old lady from Ohio,” she says, her tone overly sweet. “I’m a—”
“Valkyrie,” Acid mutters.
