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“You’re a Warrior?”
“I am.”
“So you’re not in an MC?”
“I am. I’m the president. But we ride up in the heavens on streets paved in gold.”
“Um, okay. Then what are you doing here?”
“Odin sent me.”
“Odin, as in the Norse god?”
“One and the same.”
I begin to pace, doing my best not to freak out. And still, the voice in my head is relentless.
Trust him, Makayla.
Logic tells me I should kick Viking out and lock the door behind him, but I can’t. I wasn’t lying when I said I felt a connection to him. Okay, so maybe he’s a little looney tunes, but the heart wants what the heart wants, right?
“I’m not looney tunes.”
I whip my head around with wide eyes, and he looks as surprised as I am. “What?”
“Uh, that’s never happened before,” Viking says.
“What?”
“Me reading someone’s mind. Usually, it’s my mind being read.”
And how the fuck am I supposed to ignore that? I know I didn’t speak out loud.
“Viking, I’m not really sure what to do with this information,” I admit.
“What can I do to prove to you that I’m telling the truth?” he asks.
Kiss him. Kiss him, and you’ll see the truth.
That damn voice.
Without giving it too much thought, I move forward and reach up to touch his cheek. I can’t help but wonder how he can feel so warm when he’s dead, but I don’t bother asking. I’m not sure I’d understand anyway.
Rising to my tiptoes, I lean forward and close my eyes as I press my lips to his. And in a flash, image after image after image slams into my mind. Like memories on a slide show, I see Leif as a boy, a teenager, then as a young man. I get a crystal-clear illustration of him fighting off numerous men as he wields an ax, and I see his death.
Viking pulls away from me, his breathing ragged.
Do dead people breathe?
“I can’t,” he says bitterly.
“Y-you can’t?”
“Fuck, Makayla, I want you. There is nothing I want more. But it’s forbidden for
me to have physical relations with a human.”
Push him. It’ll be okay.
