Claimed by Cammie Eicher Read Free Book Online Page A

syringes up to the light.
    “Designer drug to keep you normal, right?”
    Chiana made a grab for it, but he was too quick. “Hormone shots. I’ve had problems since I was a kid.”
    “Started when you were 13 or so, week or two before your first period, right? Hot flashes, weird dreams, temperature spikes and an aversion to certain foods.”
    “So?”
    “Somebody took you to the emergency room or a local doc, and they were baffled. Next thing you know, a social worker’s talking to your folks, saying how you need follow-up.”
    He held the case by his fingertips. “And then this.”
    “Don’t destroy those. Please.”
     
    The dignity of her request affected Creed in a way he hadn’t thought possible. He’d given up caring about anything except the job. He’d learned to isolate himself from other people’s emotions. They only got in the way. Yet he could feel her fear and sense of betrayal as easily as he might a cold draft or a burn, which meant he was right about her.
    “I know what you are,” he said. “I know about your visions.”
    “Dreams. They’re bad dreams, nothing more.”
    Creed shook his head. “You know better. And you know without these shots, Odin will find you. Or someone he sends. You’ll leave this plane, go back to his battlefields and do his work. You’re a Valkyrie.”
    “My mother was.”
    “And you have her blood. That makes you one, too. So talk.”
    “My mother swore an oath. In order to save her lover’s life, in order to live to bear me, she promised Odin her child if it was a girl. She told me, but I didn’t believe her. Not until the dreams.”
    “Now they’re coming for you.”
    Chiana nodded. “If I leave this plane, I die, and my soul will be sent to hell.”
    “Got news for you,” Creed said as he tossed her wallet and other possessions back to her. “Staying here won’t be any picnic either.”
    “I guess I’m screwed.” Chiana tucked in her tee, zipped her pants and tossed what was left of a very expensive bra into the trash. “Don’t expect me to go down without a fight.”
    She held her hand out to Creed.
    “Do me a favor and give me fifteen minutes before you call in, okay? And if you don’t mind, I’d like those syringes back.”
    Creed slipped the case into his pocket.
    “No.”
    “Oh, come on, man.” Abandoning her bravado, Chiana kicked the table and swore. “Do you really have to be such a hard ass?”
    “I’m not calling in. Unless your partner’s less loyal than you think, no one knows I’ve found you. We have a couple hours before they realize I’ve cut contact.”
    “You’re going rogue?”
     
    Chiana stared at him, stunned. She’d heard stories about agents who got so tied up in a case they took it underground.
    Suspicion rose in her. One more trick, that’s all it was. Like making her take her clothes off and feeling her up. He’d try to lull her into believing him, and then, as soon as they were clear of this place, a collection team would come swooping in and take over.
     
    Creed spotted the change the instant it began. Her face flushed, and her hands rolled into fists. Her eyes narrowed as she fixed a cold stare at him, assessing him. He tensed, preparing himself as she rose to the balls of her bare feet, her shoulders squaring and seeming to widen.
    “You’re not doing this, you bastard.”
    Her voice was cold, sharp and loud. Her sudden anger seemed to crystallize as she spoke, giving Creed a glimpse of how fierce a Valkyrie must be in battle. As she launched herself toward him, Creed began chanting the words he’d memorized. He repeated the phrases even as Chiana scratched and kicked, screaming again in that strange language, until his throat burned and she sagged against him, her rage defused.
    As his arms closed around her, he repeated the last line, this time in English and not Sumerian.
    “I bind you to me, woman of war,” he whispered, “so your weapons cannot hurt me and your spirit shies from wounding