Valkyrie condemned, p.1
Valkyrie Condemned, page 1
VALKYRIE CONDEMNED
A LEGACY WORLD NOVEL
VALKYRIES RISING
BOOK 6
ALLYSON LINDT
ACELETTE PRESS
This book is a work of fiction.
While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 by Allyson Lindt
Cover Art by Romancepremades.com
All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Manufactured in the United States of America
CONTENTS
Prologue - Mia
1. Mia
2. Thac (Tlaloc)
3. Caleb
4. Mia
5. Thac
6. Caleb
7. Mia
8. Caleb
9. Thac
10. Mia
11. Mia
12. Thac
13. Caleb
14. Mia
15. Thac
16. Thac
17. Mia
18. Caleb
19. Thac
20. Caleb
21. Mia
22. Caleb
23. Mia
Other Valkyries Rising Books
To all my fellow Valkyries… My author friends… The women who made this entire thing possible… Thank you :*
PROLOGUE - MIA
Whoever the sadist was who invented 6 a.m. lessons should be forced to attend them for the rest of their lives.
Then again, they might like that.
I’d have to think a little harder on the appropriate punishment.
I suppressed my yawn as the small group of adults I was teaching to read gathered their belongings. Most of them would go straight from here to their jobs, and were laden with whatever they needed to make it through their workdays.
The literacy class had been held at the library for years, and when I took over, there were never more than one or two people there. In talking to people, I’d realized it was because the classes started at four, so the library could close their doors at five thirty, and a number of the people the program was meant for were still at work at that time.
So I’d moved things to a corner of my comic book shop, and held lessons early in the morning once or twice a week. I still couldn’t account for everyone’s schedule, but it was a start. Some of them grabbed an extra cup of coffee and a bagel for their commute, and within a few minutes, the room was quiet again.
One of the faces I expected to see here today hadn’t shown, and I was worried about her. As I folded chairs and stacked them in a corner, I wondered if I should call someone. She could be fine. She really didn’t need the lessons anymore, given that last week she’d stayed late to discuss the finer details of 1984 with me.
And I didn’t know who I would call anyway. The police? Hey, one of my adult literacy students didn’t come to class. No, I don’t know where she lives. Or her last name. Or her first name… She’d told me she was Sally one week. Then the next week it was Mary. When I asked her about the different names, she stammered and insisted one was a first name and one was a middle name.
I suspected she’d escaped a bad life, based on some of the little things she said and the way she was always looking over her shoulder.
I couldn’t say I understood completely—my father was kind and loving. As I got older, I started to look more like my mother who passed away when I was a baby. There was a sadness in his gaze when he looked at me and thought I wasn’t looking back.
He was always doting on me though.
The world he raised me in, on the other hand, had a lot more danger lurking around dark corners than it appeared on the surface. And some of the company that he kept, that he required me to keep… it hadn’t been the worst, but it had sure wreaked havoc on my psyche.
“I’ll take those.” Caleb, the man who rented my extra room from me, grabbed three chairs from me, hefting them as if they were pieces of paper, and carried them to stack with the rest.
He looked slender, a couple inches shorter than my five-foot-eleven, but the dude was secretly jacked. He tried to hide it under looser clothing, but when he did things like maneuvering heavy folding tables with zero effort, it was clear he was more than the geeky persona he tucked behind glasses and faded T-shirts from thrift stores.
“Nice of you to show up, finally.” I teased and started boxing up the bagels.
He snagged one, smeared half with cream cheese, and shoved half of that into his mouth in a single bite. The wiggle of his eyebrows and his shrug helped me figure out his muffled reply. “Just here for the food.”
It wasn’t true. He’d be here regardless. He and I met when I was still volunteering to do this at the library. He volunteered for the church down the street to teach English as a second language to immigrants. According to him, he had the gift of tongues.
Otherwise known as he was really good at picking up any language.
My phone chimed, and my best friend Scarlett’s face appeared on screen. Lucky bitch had moved to Greece to run a hotel, and it was afternoon for her.
“Hey, bitch.” I cradled the phone between my shoulder and ear, so I could keep working while I talked to her.
Caleb pointed to another door silently, and mimed carrying the tables into the storage room.
I gave him a grateful smile, both for the work and that he was giving me a little bit of privacy for my call.
“Morning, skank.” Scarlett’s greeting was bright. “Class is over, right? Can you talk? I need to tell you something.” She sounded excited.
Which made me excited. “Ooh, secrets. This sounds like the kind of secret I’m going to like.”
“You’re going to love this. Seriously, you’re going to shit yourself when you hear it.”
That was a pretty impressive promise. My shop door swung open and I turned, surprised I still had students here.
The man who stalked in wasn’t one of my students.
“I’ll call you back,” I said to Scarlett. “We open at ten,” I called out.
When he turned toward me, his eyes narrowed. He strode across the room. “Where’s Gretchen?” He stopped inches from me, and towered over me.
If he was looking to intimidate me, fuck him. I’d grown up around bruisers, and learned a long time ago that bullies weren’t worth cowering to. “I don’t know who that is.” I held his gaze in an unwavering stare.
“Fuck you, you don’t. She comes in here every fucking week. I’ve been watching.”
Watching. Fuck. Did he mean Mary-Sally? “Then you know there’s no one who comes here by that name.”
“She didn’t show today.” He clenched a fist. “Tell me where she is.”
I straightened to my full height, which still made him a couple of inches taller than me. “I don’t. Know who. You’re talking about.” I spoke the words slowly and deliberately, to make my point.
He stepped closer, and I flinched on instinct. Damn it, I didn’t want him to see that.
“You talk to her every week. You mean to tell me you don’t know how to find her? You’re one of those whores who’s helping her hide.” His breath was sour, like coffee, syrup, and alcohol.
When a bit of spittle hit my face, I was impressed with myself for not flinching this time. “I can’t help you. You need to leave.”
“Not until I have answers.”
Though bullies weren’t worth the effort, they were also difficult to make go away. My heart slammed against my ribs as he stood toe-to-toe with me. This wasn’t all fear that pounded in my veins, though, and my hands curled into tight fists.
If I continued to stare him down, would he hit me? Had he hit Mary-Sally?
Because I would hit back.
Most days I wished I could be completely noble and passive, like Professor X in the beloved X-men comics that sat on my store shelves.
Moments like right now, I was more like Magneto. Willing to inflict a kind of permanent harm on those who dared to pick on the wrong people.
Fortunately—or maybe not—I had enough sense to know that may not go my way for a number of reasons. For instance, I knew how to throw a punch, I’d spent hundreds of hours dealing my frustrations to a large bag that hung in the gym in my father’s building, but I wasn’t good for much more in a fight.
And I’d rather not bruise my knuckles on this asshole. “Leave, or I’ll call the police.”
He wrapped a hand around my throat before I could blink, and shoved me into a nearby wall. “Where’s Gretchen?” He squeezed, pressing his thumb into my windpipe and putting his face less than an inch from mine.
He was too close for me to swing with any effectiveness.
Panic set in as darkness licked at the edges of my vision. There were ways out of this. I knew there were. Why couldn’t I think of them? Why didn’t—
The man grunted and stumbled, his grip on me loosening.
I scrambled away, to find Caleb behind him.
Caleb threw a sharp, quick kick at the back of the man’s knee, sending him tripping forward now that I was out of the way.
But this Caleb had shed the glasses,
Mr. Bully whirled and swung at Caleb with a punch so wide and obvious he could’ve sent a telegraph.
Caleb stepped aside, like we were in a fucking action movie, grabbed Mr. Bully’s hand, and swung behind him with the man’s entire arm.
I heard the distinct crack of a bone, and the man roared in pain.
Caleb didn’t flinch. Instead, he pressed his face next to Mr. Bully’s from behind. “Get. Out.” Caleb’s voice was pure threat. He didn’t wait for a reply, and instead manhandled Mr. Bully to the front door, shoved him out, and locked the door behind him.
Oh, fuck me.
“Are you all right?” Caleb was back by my side, barely touching my neck.
I fingered the tender spots along my skin and swallowed back the tears that stung my throat and the insides of my eyelids. Because no matter what, no one got to see me cry in frustration. Caleb was nice enough, in fact I liked him more than I did most people. On late nights when I was alone and let my defenses down, sometimes I pretended he was as attracted to me as I was to him—I fantasized about all the sexy fucking things we’d do if that were the case.
But it wasn’t, and men I crushed on didn’t get to see me break down in moments of weakness, because I couldn’t take care of myself against an imposing dickwad who thought demanding things got him what he wanted.
“I’m fine, thank you.” My voice, my reply, were clear, and my tone too bright.
He studied me, his brow furrowed, then gave a brief shake of his head. “Good.” We finished cleaning up, and got ready for the work day to start.
I called the police and gave them a full report, as well as all the information I had about Gretchen. They said they’d have someone swing by occasionally to check on me, and they’d keep an eye out for the man, but without more information, they couldn’t do much.
Caleb wanted to stay and keep me company—keep me safe—but I couldn’t intrude on his day like that, and I made him get back to his own schedule.
I managed to put the incident out of my head as the hours ticked away, though after we opened, each time someone came into the shop, my nerves twitched. And my gut clenched.
By the time lunch rolled around, I desperately needed a break, or I was going to scream. At myself. For not being able to get over this.
Teddy, the guy who worked midday shifts showed up, and I took the opportunity to head into the back and get some air and clear my head. Also, to shove some food into my face.
Chips and soda made a lot of things better, especially when paired with cookies.
While I was eating, Scarlett called.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” I answered immediately. How did I forget to call her back?
“No worries. Is everything all right?”
No. But that was mostly because I couldn’t do things like defend myself or the people who needed it. “Yeah. Totally fine.”
“You’re lying.”
Busted. “It’s not a big deal, really. Nothing new. You had news for me?”
“Not until you tell me you’re all right and mean it.”
Damn friends, always being concerned. “I’ll be okay.” This time I managed the reply with more calmness. “I’ll be better if you tell me your awesome news.”
There was a pause. She was thinking about arguing. “Fine. But only because this really will make you feel better. Magic is real.”
My brain froze, half of it choked on a laugh and the other half glitching on of course it is.
Of course it wasn’t. What was wrong with me? “Is this like you found the perfect, magical pair of shoes on sale?”
“No.” Scarlett huffed. “This is like Panos is a god—as in the Panos, that guy I was telling you about who I thought was his lover, Arnlaug, is a berserker, and this woman named Kirby turned me into a Valkyrie.”
Was she telling me about a new book she was working on? “I don’t get it.”
“Get what? What’s there to get?”
“I’m looking for the punchline.” Except that I knew Scarlett wasn’t the kind of person who pulled pranks. That wasn’t her. So what was the deal?
“There’s no punchline. I’m serious.” She sounded sincere.
And half of my brain still believed her.
Because I was delusional and hurt after this morning’s encounter, and would cling to anything that made my fantasies more real.
She’s not lying.
She was, though. For whatever reason. “Why did you really call?”
“Mia, I’m being serious. She gave me fucking wings.”
Wings. Like Dark Phoenix.
I’d always wanted wings. And magic. Valkyries could fight, couldn’t they?
Damn it.
I wasn’t insane, though. And I wasn’t in the mood for whatever this was. “I have to go. Congrats on the idea for your next book.” That was what this was. She was telling me her next book was ready for me to give it an early read. “If you want a beta reader, send it over.”
“Mia—”
“Bye.” I disconnected before my brain could convince me she was right.
What if she is?
She wasn’t talking about reality, because I wasn’t insane, and magic only existed in fiction.
“Hey,” Teddy poked his head into the break room. “Since we’re kind of slow right now, do you want me to go pick up the mail when you’re done with lunch?”
We had a lot of our mail go to a local paid mailbox place, and Teddy used picking up the mail as a daily excuse to take a vape break.
Not that I had a problem with that. “I’m done now, if you want to go.”
“Thanks.” He grinned.
I followed him back into the main room of the shop, and took my place behind the counter. Normally I’d straighten the place up to occupy my mind, or stock shelves, or something.
I’d already done that this morning to keep myself from thinking about the horrible encounter with Mr. Bully.
As if summoned by my thoughts, he walked into the shop.
Shit.
I reached for my phone, and it wasn’t there. I must’ve left it in back after talking to Scarlett.
Double shit.
I grabbed for the cordless phone we used for the shop instead. There was pride and then there was stupidity, and I wasn’t dumb enough to try to handle this guy without police help. Why didn’t I call them this morning after he left?
He reached the counter before I did, and yanked the phone cord from the wall. Why, oh why, did I skimp on putting a panic button for my alarm system closer to me?
But this time I had the counter between me and him, and I wasn’t above hitting him with anything in my shop, to get him to go away.
I wielded the phone like a club. A very small club. “Nothing has changed since this morning. Get out.”
“Except that your boyfriend broke my fucking finger.” Mr. Bully held up his right hand, to reveal a splint on his pinky. “So I’m going to break something of his.”
I was pretty sure he meant me, and arguing any of the inaccuracies of his assumption wouldn’t do me any good. I also refused to flinch like I had earlier. “How about instead, you turn around and walk out, or I’ll break a more vital finger.”
His snort-laugh sent ice spilling through me.
Why wasn’t Caleb here? Or—God—Thac. My father’s enforcer would make this man wish he’d never even thought about hurting another human being.
And why couldn’t I take care of this myself?
Mr. Bully came around the counter, and I realized the horrible folly of my assumption that I was safe back here. The U-shaped space meant I was trapped now, between him and a lot of glass.
I pulled back the phone, ready to beat him as much as I could.
Scarlett appeared in the main floor space. Blink, she was here, with a man who had short horns barely peeking out from under his thick curls of hair.
