Page 3 of Valkyrie Unknown

I looked for Azrael myself and found a slight girl with more nerve than most adult men. Every time I walked away for years, duty drove me to go back to her. To fulfill my destiny and to make up for the fact that I was the reason at least one god hunted her. Over and over the compulsion to protect her yanked me back, until I had to approach her personally a few years later. I offered to teach her to spar. I didn’t hold back enough, and I broke her arm. The instant her mother found out, I was banished from the girl’s life.

Which was fine. I’d faced my fate and been released from destiny. The child was a stranger, like any other on the street. I didn’t wish most mortals harm, but millions of people had died from millions of things in my lifetime. If I let all those deaths eat at my soul, it would drive me insane.

I fixed Aya with a hard stare. “She’ll be fine without me, regardless of who finds her. She’s destined to protect the world, not die.” I turned away again.

“There are fates worse than death, Davyn.” Aya brushed the back of my neck with her fingers, and a shiver of ice raced down my spine. “I’m not sorry.” Her voice was distant.

A ripple disrupted my sight. The heat still beat down on my face, but instead of looking at sidewalks next to empty home lots, I was staring at a freeway running through sagebrush and tumbleweed. I turned around and found myself staring at a sign that readElko ELEV 5060.

Aya sent me to Nevada. Fucking?—

I sighed and started walking toward town. Only some immortals had the power to teleport from place to place in the blink of an eye, and I couldn’t do anything like that. While I didn’t need the day’s pay, I didn’t deal in bank cards, and the only cash I carried on me was enough to get me through a day or two. I couldn’t just walk into a bank and get more money; I needed access to a key that was with my things, back in my apartment in Idaho, to get to the magic vault where I kept my valuables.

When I made the decision to keep in touch with Aya, I didn’t expect her to use the knowledge of my whereabouts against me.

This had to be where Azzie was. I wasn’t going to look for her. I’d catch a bus out of here and head back to my place.

When I reached the bus station, I discovered it was only a stopping point. No new passengers were picked up here, and the next bus wouldn’t be through for two days, anyway.

The train station wasn’t much better.

There was a regional airport, but getting to any other destination would cost me far more than I carried. At this rate, I was better off walking to a bigger city. Aside from the fact that it was the middle of summer, and I wasn’t made for this weather. Even when I wasn’t in my bear shape, the heat was too intense.

I grabbed a motel room for the night. Tomorrow I’d see about grabbing a ride with a trucker. That wasn’t new to me. There was a bar away from the small strip they called the tourist part of town, so I made my way there. At least I could drink and eat well while I waited.

Next time I saw Aya, she was getting a piece of my mind.

Two

Azzie

If anyone toldme a few years ago that I’d become numb to a hot stranger waving his barely-covered junk in my face, I’d have told them they were delusional.

Yet here I was, in the middle of a loud strip club, a godlike specimen of a man dancing less than a foot away, wearing next to nothing, and I was bored out of my fucking skull. The only thing keeping me from yawning was the concern that something might work its way free of that G-string and slap me in the open mouth.

Tori leaned into me, nudging me playfully with her shoulder. “I think he likes you.”

“I think he likes the dollar bills you and your friends are throwing at him.” Despite my cynical retort, her comment made me smile.

She was getting married in a few days, and this was her bachelorette party. The tiara that sat crooked on her head and the feather boa wrapped around her shoulders weren’t unusual for these parties, but the costume kitty ears that held the tiara on, and the tail she wore, were accessories I hadn’t seen on previous clients.

“More money means more peen?” One of her friends—I was pretty sure this was Gwen—pulled a fresh handful ofonesfrom her purse. Even in the dim lighting, it was obvious her full cheeks were flushed from the alcohol.

Our dancer stepped from the stage and approached our table, swinging his hips with every step. He leaned closer to her. “For you, I might do it for free.”

She giggled, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and tucked more cash into the elastic of his G-string.

Yeah, he was definitely here for the money.

He tugged Tori’s tail. “Are you a good kitty?”

“She’s the best.” This was the other friend, Jaycee.

She’d told me she wasthe quiet friend. Except that she was three margaritas in, and decorum was vanishing.

She handed the dancer a larger bill. “And she wants a lap dance.”

“I don’t.” Despite the protest, Tori leaned back when the dancer draped his arms loosely around her neck and continued the grinding.

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