Valkyrie's Kiss (4 page)

I counted
the stars mapped out above me. I knew their positions as well as I knew my own
face.

I listened
to the rhythm of Jesse's breathing.

"What
do you see up there?"

"The
stars.
The unchanging,
never-ending stars."

"That's
one of the things I like out here. Back home in Houston, well, you can see
stars on a clear night, but not like this."

"Light
pollution."

"Yeah."

"You
said 'one of the things' you like out here. Are there other things?"

He shifted
his body ever so slightly. Was it my imagination, or did he move closer?

"I don't know. I guess it's
crazy, but I like the people. The simplicity of their lives, except when...
”
His voice trailed off.

"Except
when they're armed."

Jess
laughed,
a deep rumbling laugh that reverberated through my
body. "Yeah, except when they're armed."

A desert
wind brushed past us. "It's getting cold."

"Here."
I pulled the edges of the emergency blanket over us. Jess tucked the edge of it
under his body, shutting out the rising wind.

"Good
night, Sabrina."

"Good
night, Jess."

It didn't
take long for him to fall asleep. I lay beside him, the blanket holding us in a
cocoon of heat, counting the stars. Valkyries feel cold; we eat; we have the
ability to feel pain. And pleasure. But we have no real need for sleep.

Not all
goddesses get the five senses, but the gods decided to endow us with these
gifts so that we will have empathy for the mortal men on the battlefield and
better understand the reward of Valhalla and the pleasures it will bring to the
chosen warriors. And so I lay beside this mortal man, relishing the warmth of
his body.

Sometime in
the night, while I was tracking a satellite gliding across the night sky, he
nestled against me. His hands found my waist, and his breath caressed my neck.

The warmth
of his breath drove me mad with wanting.

For the
second time that day, I did something without thinking. I pressed my body
against his, an unwitting smile curling my lips. He snuggled closer, and I
wrapped my arms around him. I could feel his manhood pressing against my thigh.

Stop
.
Stop
this
.

But his
arms were tightening around me, and the heat of him sent my thoughts into a
tumble, silencing all rational thought. I knew he was only semi-awake and most
likely unaware of what his body was doing. He was in that sweet spot between
dream and reality, and his body was responding only to my warmth
—
but I didn't care. I wanted him. I'd wanted him from the
moment I saw him kneeling in the dirt, his gun at his feet, his sad eyes on the
girl. That moment of total surrender had touched my withered heart like nothing
else in my vast experience.

He shifted,
getting into a more comfortable position, giving his hardness a place to rest
just inside my thigh. I pulled his arms close and kissed his forehead. It was
too much. He woke and started to pull away.

"God..."
he mumbled, looking at me with bleary eyes.

"No,"
I whispered, "just me." Before he could leap to his feet, before he
could shame me with his disgust and fear of my kind, I reached for him. My left
hand rubbed against his incontrovertible need.

A sound
emanated from his throat, a soft, surrendering growl. Unleashed, I rose to my
knees, straddling him. I threw back my head, arched my back, and rubbed against
the thick rod pushing against the restraining fabric of his fatigues. His hips rose
to meet mine and we fell into a synchronized rhythm. When the muscles in my
thighs began to burn, I collapsed against his chest. His lips brushed against
my neck. Oh, how I wanted to look down and kiss those soft, giving lips.

Instead I
moved away from his impending kiss. I freed him from the restrictions of button
and zipper with one quick motion and grasped the pulsing heat of him.

Jess
groaned again, louder this time.

He began
kissing my neck in earnest, and the desire to meet his lips raged through me, a
rising crescendo beating out a frantic rhythm inside me. He ran his hands under
my shirt, but I couldn't have that either. I had to have him, and if he found
my wings, he might run. Run screaming into the blackened desert. So I reached
for his hands and moved them to my own zipper. "Take them off."

We traded
places. Jess pulled at my fatigues and panties. He ripped off his t-shirt. He
was on his knees, facing me, his cut chest and chiseled biceps silhouetted
against the starlit night. I unlaced my boots with quick, determined hands and
watched him shed the last of his clothes.

I gasped.
"You're magnificent."

He smiled
down at me, his even, white teeth winking at me. The lust in his eyes was a
familiar sight, but my body's reaction to it was not.

I reached
for him again, straddling him and pressing his face against my breasts.
"Envelope me, Jess.
Cover me."

I opened my
legs and guided him into me. He kissed my neck, nipped my ear. Our breath
mingled together in the cool night, but I did not let his lips touch mine.

A sound, a
moaning, purring sound rose from somewhere deep inside me. It had been so long
since I'd let a mortal man touch me. The sound seemed to drive him mad.

He ran his
hands down my back, gripped the soft rise of my buttocks, sucking at my neck,
thrusting into me. I rose to meet his rhythm, relishing the feel of him, the
delicate power of his mortal body.

How long
had it been since I'd felt the pulsing hot flesh of a mortal man?
Too long.
His manhood plunged into me, hitting a place so
deep inside that I let out a long, echoing cry of pleasure.

When it was
over, I had to physically bite my own flesh to keep from pressing my lips
against his. I wanted to feel his kiss, meet his eyes,
hold
him inside my very soul. But a kiss was impossible.

For when a
Valkyrie touches the lips of a mortal man with her own, he is marked. A marked
man ascends to Valhalla. And to do that, the marked man must die.

With his
body wrapped around me, his arms circled tightly around my
waist,
I savored the feeling of the warm sticky juices of our lovemaking sealing us
together in the cold.

When he spoke,
his voice startled me. "Sabrina," he
said,
his lips against my ear. "Sabrina."

The timber
of his voice when he said my name sent a shiver along my spine and down between
my legs. It was like a touch, his voice.
A vibrating caress.

I pulled
him more tightly against me.

This man,
this mortal, was like no other I'd ever met. I'd had men before, when I was a
young Valkyrie, but not like this. I'd enjoyed the taste of mortals, the
strange softness of them, but I'd never felt the touch of a man's voice. Oh
yes. I was in deep trouble now. And I had nobody to blame but myself.

Chapter Four

The morning
dawned with its usual luminescent brightness. Jess slept beside me, his naked
chest rising and falling against my hand. There is something unique about mortal
man's breath. Though I take in breath and release it, filling my lungs with air
just as any mortal does, there is a fearful rhythm to it. Leaping to a
warrior's side or taking a hail of shrapnel rarely elevates my heart rate.
Perhaps it is because we do not feel fear the way that a mortal does. Perhaps
that is why my heartbeat plays like an eternal ticking clock.

I sensed a
change in Jesse's breathing, anticipating his awakening before it occurred. I
couldn't bring myself to pull my hand away, and when he opened his eyes and saw
me, he started. He was naked, and I wore only my army green t-shirt, compelled
to hide my wings. I saw his gaze flit to my sex and took satisfaction in the
click of his contracting jaw muscle. He wanted me.

I reached
out, ran my fingers through is hair and inched closer.

"What
time is it?
”
he said, his voice heavy with lust. When he turned away
and reached for his fatigues, I swallowed back the lump in my throat and did
the same, pushing away the memory of him pulsing inside me.

"You
can't leave yet," I said, pulling on my own uniform, stuffing my feet into
my combat boots. "I told you it's not safe."

"I
have to," Jess said. He stood with his back to me, stuffing and tucking as
I was doing.
“
The guys will be out looking for me. I can
’
t have my buddies risking their lives trying to find me.
”

"You
don't understand," I said, moving into his line of sight. "Death has
your scent now. He'll be on the watch for you."

“
Maybe.
Yesterday you said maybe.
”

“
Yes,
but it
’
s a dangerous maybe, Jess. It
’
s
too much of a risk to ignore.
”

"Sabrina,"
he said, rolling the word out slowly. Once again, his voice sent a shiver
through me, eliciting a responding vibration between my legs. "I hear you.
I
’
ve listened to what you
’
ve
said, but I can't just go AWOL. And I certainly can't tell my commanding
officer that a Valkyrie told me to do it."

"Listen
to me, Jess. Please. You won't survive the day."

"Did
you ever consider that I wasn't meant to survive? That maybe my date with Death
was yesterday?"

"But
it wasn't."

"Only
because you interfered," he said. "Why did you? If I'm not dreaming
and you really
are this
... this Valkyrie. If that's
all true, then your job is to mark soldiers, right?"

"Heroes,
yes."

"So,
why aren't you out doing that?"

How could I
tell him he was the hero I wanted? How could I explain?

I've made a
total of seventeen trips to Valhalla during my lifetime, and though the place
is filled with beauty and tantalizes the senses, it has the feel of an empty
stage. It is nothing to the vitality of earthly life, the pulse and throb of
mortal emotions and earth's countless ephemeral creatures.

Valkyries
had been agents of this change. We no longer wanted to be serving wenches. We've
seen too much, and once we taste the liberties of mortal life, we want to stay
on earth. Valhalla was always meant to be a place above earthly life, but it
isn't the place it once was, full of light and joy, of reward and beauty. And
even if it was still the paradise Odin meant it to be, I didn't want to send Jess
there.

Valhalla is
a place of intrigue, betrayals and petty squabbles over privileges. The chosen
heroes often try to seduce Valkyries into their beds to mate. For even the hero
warriors want a break from the monotony of eternal pleasure, and to father a
Valkyrie is the only possible way back.

Most
Valkyries are hesitant to mate because of the laws governing childbirth. Gods
are ruthless in their demands. I find it ironic that my job is to find the
unselfish and send them into such a world. I soured on it long ago. No, this
man deserved more. He should have a life, not the corruption of Valhalla.

"The
only thing you need to worry about right now is Death," I said, knowing he
wouldn't, couldn't understand about the false glimmer of Valhalla.

A rush of
wind pulled at my hair, and a hawk's cry rang in my ears. I sniffed at the air.

"Take
cover!" I shouted, pushing Jess against the rocks, shielding him with my
body.

"What
is it?" Jess asked, pushing against me, struggling to free
himself
from my embrace.

“
Shh
, stay still. Something is coming.
”

Jess froze.
We lay there together for a few moments. I relished the feel of his body below
mine and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing.

I finally
caught the scent of our intruder. "Oh. Great."

"What?"
Jess said, pushing me back, trying to get to his feet.

I helped
him up. "Don't say anything," I said, "I'll handle this."

Gustel
dropped out of the sky like a settling air balloon. She
was dressed in a holographic blue body suit that shifted with her movements,
mimicking the colors of the sky. Camouflage for Valkyries. I'd used it myself
on occasion, but found the body suit restricting and uncomfortable.

Gustel's
hair today was a drifting white, like cotton batting. When
she landed her skin instantly turned the color of sand.