FORTY-EIGHT

What a difference a day can make, Declan thought as the six of them climbed a mountain trail.

In that short time, he’d gone from the lowest low to the highest high.

Yes, they were on the run for their lives, beleaguered by a squall, but he felt a hundred pounds lighter. For the last several hours, he’d led Regin through gusting winds and biting rain, blocking both for her. And each time he’d glanced over his shoulder to check on her, her eyes had flickered—with definite interest.

Chest swelled with pride, he realized he might have a shot at more.

When the group took a break before a particularly steep ascent, he squired her back the way they’d come. Out of sight of the others, he leaned down to kiss her damp neck. The lass let him. “Been needin’ to do that since we left the stream.” He nuzzled her ear. “Have you thought about my offer?”

She pulled back. “Offer? It sounded more like a decree. So, in this imaginary world, where we’re a couple and all my allies are safe and sound—and there is no curse that’s about to kill you—what do we do with our time?”

“You wanted to ally before. We could be partners, split bounties. I’d still get to hunt Neos and Cerunnos. Slay some Horde vampires, right?”

“You’d let me go into battle with you? Not afraid I’d get hurt?”

“I’ve seen you fight. I pity anything that crosses you. You’re the most capable female I’ve ever known. Besides, I’d never let you be hurt.”

“Uh-huh. And didn’t you tell me that we’d find a place to put down roots? Be informed that I’ve already got one. Lucia and I have always planned to live in adjacent houses on some seashore. How would you like a Valkyrie for a neighbor?”

“You will no’ scare me away so easily as that. For more of what you gave me at the stream, I’ll reside in Val Hall’s attic.” He leaned in to murmur, “I now ken the appeal of your little claws. I’ve got your marks across my arse.”

“That a problem?”

“I’ll be ireful if I go a day without them,” he said gravely. “Besides, a seaside home sounds about right. I told you I like the mountains—and the shore. I grew up on the Irish coast, you know.”

“And how would you be with my family?”

“Scarce.” At her raised chin, he said, “I can manage with them. And I already have an in with your sister Nïx. She sent me a message a week ago.”

“What? How?”

“I’d bugged your car. She sent me a message through the damn bug.”

“What’d she say?”

“That I should question Lothaire, and that she’d see me soon.”

Regin had been sensing a Valkyrie presence for two days now. Was it Nïx on the island? “And?”

“And a bunch of other gibberish.”

“Nïx doesn’t speak gibberish. Everything she says is for a reason.”

“She told me my middle name would be regret.” Chase held her gaze. “Your sister was right. I’m goin’ to spend the rest of my life makin’ everything up to you.”

“Whoa, Chase, you’re acting like I’m a done deal. And I’m the furthest thing from it.”

“You’ve given me your terms, and I’m goin’ to prevail.”

“Let me know when you puzzle out how to get around a thousand-year-old curse. I’ll be curious to see.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but Brandr called out, “Hey, Chase, we need to decide on the best way up. Preferably taking the path less mined with unexploded incendiaries.”

“Aye, then.” To her, Chase said, “We’ll continue this discussion later.” He took her hand, leading her back. After chucking her under the chin, he jogged off to confer with Brandr.

Natalya joined her directly. “I’ve been waiting to talk for hours. But I didn’t want to interrupt Chase—as he seized on any opportunity to touch you. Assisting a Valkyrie over a downed sapling? How romantic.”

“What’d you want to talk about?”

“Just to commend you on your revenge last night. It must have been fiendish. Of course, I can only imagine since there wasn’t a mark on Chase this morning, only residual bliss.”

“He heals fast! I whaled on his face. Must’ve been thirty hits.”

Natalya’s lips quirked. “You’re glowing like a Lite-Brite.”

“Shut it, fairy.”

“I don’t know what kind of upskirt mojo you’ve got going on, but that man is different.”

Regin gazed over at him as he pointed out something to Brandr. Chase’s demeanor was still gruff, but the strain around his eyes was diminished.

He’d grudgingly accepted his sweater back—it was far too big for her to climb in—but he’d rolled up his sleeves, displaying his brawny arms. The flat scars over his skin looked almost like tribal tattoos.

And damn, if he didn’t look bigger every hour. Maybe the drugs he’d taken had kept the berserker in him in check?

Natalya gave a little wave at Thad. The kid sat under a rock overhang, trying to talk to Lothaire, but the vampire didn’t look lucid. “So now that you’ve sampled Chase,” she said in a low tone, “are you going to keep him?”

“I can’t forget about the curse,” Regin said firmly. Because she was tempted to do just that. To take that wicked Irishman behind a rock and have her way with him.

“How does he compare to the original Aidan?”

“They’re similar in a lot of ways.” And those similarities kept tugging on her heartstrings, making her soften toward him. But there were definite differences.

Whereas Chase seemed comfortable with the idea of her fighting, Aidan probably would never have allowed her to go into battle.

Aidan had put her on a pedestal, awed that he was with a Valkyrie.

Chase wanted her to be his … friend.

Seeing him with Brandr like this—both of them so tall, nodding in agreement over whatever they were discussing—brought back so many memories. Just as before, she could tell there would be a bond between the two men.

But Chase won’t have enough time to see it grow.

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