Page 137 of Vicious Vows

I find Freja, who throws her arms around me.

“What did she want with you?”

I catch her up on everything, only leaving the part out about dying. Freja is the type of person who will try to do something to stop it from happening, and I won’t have her life on my hands.

Freja shakes her head. “That doesn’t narrow it down, does it?”

“My thoughts, too.” I look around, making sure no one is listening. “My first thought was Mother, but why would she go through all of this trouble to get rid of me?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem like something she’d do.” She bites her bottom lip. “Grandmama?”

I nod once. That’s the only person who makes sense.

“Fuck. Well, we’re both going to get out of this somehow and make sure the entire family knows what a witch she is.”

My breath hitches. I want to tell her about the baby. Someone deserves to know.

“Freja—”

The woman at the front of the room calls out, “The show is beginning. Ladies, please pick your numbers and line up.”

Music plays from the stage, and I can hear voices. A lot of them. My eyes sting. No! I need more time. Another woman walks by with a basket full of numbers. I end up away from Freja, toward the end of the line.

Like a bad dream that I can’t wake up from, the line begins to move. With each step that I take, I lose hope. It’s almost my turn. Inhaling, I hold my head high. I’m Anna Aakre and I will not show fear in front of these motherfuckers.

The curtains part and I step onto the stage.

30

Odin

My sweet Anna steps onto the stage below me wearing a garment that’s fucking see-through. My fist clenches. That sight is for me and me alone. My brothers and I are in a private box owned by Claudius Irons. Irons sits in his chair, puffing on a cigar as he watches the show below with an air of detachment. Irons is one scary looking mother fucker, and not just because of the jagged scar that runs from his temple to his mouth. A scar he got when he killed his only brother…

Pulling my attention from Irons, I watch the stage. The first bid is made on Anna. And then another. And another.

Vidar asks, “Shouldn’t we bid?”

Claudius answers, “No. I never bid this early.”

Heimdall shoots me a look. None of us wanted to work with Irons. Working with him means owing him a favor. But I’d do anything to get Anna back, including this. So, when he called saying that he had received a flyer with bidding information on Anna, I knew what I had to do.

Hans turns to Irons. “How many of these have you been to?”

Irons replies, “Enough.”

Hans looks at me and mouths, “Wow.”

I have to agree with my youngest brother. He’s surprised me these past few days in keeping his cool, especially when Freja was led onto the stage and sold for a quarter of a million dollars. The old Hans would have done something stupid that would have gotten us all killed. His fist was clenched, but he remained silent until the bidding was over. Of course, Irons was the one who had the winning bid, so she’s not in genuine danger. But Anna is. Because people know how valuable she is.

As if to prove my point, the announcer says, “Number twenty-seven is American Mafia royalty. Her grandmother once ruled New York City and her mother is married to the head of the Vilulf Family.”

My name unlocks a tidal wave of bids. One million comes and goes. Then two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

Heimdall breathes out, “Fuck. This is bad.”

The men on the floor are bidding so fast that the announcer can barely keep up. Even from here, I can feel the tensions radiating from the first floor. Twenty million. Thirty. Forty.

Irons takes a sip of his bourbon. “Haven’t seen numbers this high in years.”

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