the three of them had combed the streets of New Orleans, a city they hadn’t visited often, and all the while, Garreth impatiently counted down the hours till this day.
Finding information had proved difficult. Big Easy Loreans were suspicious of the Lykae newcomers to their city and on guard with the Accession approaching. Garreth had come up empty in his search, but the twins had charmed a voodoo shopkeeper who’d told them much.
Now as Garreth waited in the swamp, he thought back over all they’d learned about Lucia….
“She’s legendary for her archery skills,” Munro had said. “Nothing else unique about her.”
That was all she was known for? “There must be more. What does she like to do? What are her interests?”
“No one knows,” Uilleam had answered. “She’s just the Archer.” As if nothing more needed to be said about her. It was how she was identified.
Munro had added, “But it’s rumored that she feels agonizing pain whenever she misses a target.”
Luckily, Garreth couldn’t see that happening too often with her skill. But then his chest had grown heavy.
Was that how she’d gotten to be so good?
Above all, they’d learned the Valkyrie were peculiar creatures. Their origin alone fascinated him. Each Valkyrie had
three
parents. Whenever a maiden faced death with uncommon bravery, the Norse gods Freya and Wóden struck her with lightning, rescuing her to Valhalla. The maiden would wake there—healed, safe, and pregnant with a Valkyrie daughter.
The birth mothers hailed from all Lorekind—furies, witches, shifters, even humans. So the daughters would each possess the unique coloring and characteristics of the mother, but they all inherited Freya’s fey features and her notorious acquisitiveness—in fact, they could be mesmerized by shining jewels, diamonds especially.
The Valkyrie were rumored to have glass-shattering shrieks, preternatural speed, and no need to eat or drink. Instead they consumed electrical energy from the earth and produced lightning when they experienced sharp emotions.
That had been a legend about Valkyrie he’d never quite believed until he’d been in the throes with one. Lightning had speared the night, and not only from the storm.
Garreth had learned about various individual Valkyrie as well. Nïx was their soothsayer, rumored to be three thousand years old and mad as a hatter. Regin was the last of the Radiant Ones and had skin that glowed. Annika was the dauntless leader of the New Orleans coven, a master strategist who lived to war with vampires.
No one knew who Lucia’s birth mother was—or
what
she’d been—but the shopkeeper had said this Accession would be Lucia’s third. Which meant that she was over a millennium old—near his own age.
In the end, Garreth had more questions about her than answers….
She’s no’ coming.
Damn it, why? He’d shown her passion—and patience. But she’d been skittish toward the end. Wild-eyed and spooked. Perhaps she feared the intensity of her own reaction? Or of
his
?
He recalled what Bowen had once told him. “We doona understand our own ferocity.” His cousin’s deadened eyes had been filled with loss. “What’s normal to us is no’ to others.” Bowen’s own mate had loved him, until she’d seen him turned. Then she’d fled.
Lucia too had fled—yet she hadn’t even seen a glimpse of the beast.
The Lykae called their transformation
letting the beast out of its cage
. Garreth would grow taller, his muscles extending, his fangs and black claws lengthening. The brutal and menacing shadow of his beast would flicker over him.
No, Lucia dinna see me like that.
He scowled at the waxing moon.
But she soon will.
She would run far, if he wasn’t careful. Another glance at the moon, and he knew what he would have to do on that night. “Ah, Lousha, my lass. It’s going to hurt. But there’s no getting around it.”
For now, she wasn’t coming to him, so again he’d go to her. He stood and
Finding information had proved difficult. Big Easy Loreans were suspicious of the Lykae newcomers to their city and on guard with the Accession approaching. Garreth had come up empty in his search, but the twins had charmed a voodoo shopkeeper who’d told them much.
Now as Garreth waited in the swamp, he thought back over all they’d learned about Lucia….
“She’s legendary for her archery skills,” Munro had said. “Nothing else unique about her.”
That was all she was known for? “There must be more. What does she like to do? What are her interests?”
“No one knows,” Uilleam had answered. “She’s just the Archer.” As if nothing more needed to be said about her. It was how she was identified.
Munro had added, “But it’s rumored that she feels agonizing pain whenever she misses a target.”
Luckily, Garreth couldn’t see that happening too often with her skill. But then his chest had grown heavy.
Was that how she’d gotten to be so good?
Above all, they’d learned the Valkyrie were peculiar creatures. Their origin alone fascinated him. Each Valkyrie had
three
parents. Whenever a maiden faced death with uncommon bravery, the Norse gods Freya and Wóden struck her with lightning, rescuing her to Valhalla. The maiden would wake there—healed, safe, and pregnant with a Valkyrie daughter.
The birth mothers hailed from all Lorekind—furies, witches, shifters, even humans. So the daughters would each possess the unique coloring and characteristics of the mother, but they all inherited Freya’s fey features and her notorious acquisitiveness—in fact, they could be mesmerized by shining jewels, diamonds especially.
The Valkyrie were rumored to have glass-shattering shrieks, preternatural speed, and no need to eat or drink. Instead they consumed electrical energy from the earth and produced lightning when they experienced sharp emotions.
That had been a legend about Valkyrie he’d never quite believed until he’d been in the throes with one. Lightning had speared the night, and not only from the storm.
Garreth had learned about various individual Valkyrie as well. Nïx was their soothsayer, rumored to be three thousand years old and mad as a hatter. Regin was the last of the Radiant Ones and had skin that glowed. Annika was the dauntless leader of the New Orleans coven, a master strategist who lived to war with vampires.
No one knew who Lucia’s birth mother was—or
what
she’d been—but the shopkeeper had said this Accession would be Lucia’s third. Which meant that she was over a millennium old—near his own age.
In the end, Garreth had more questions about her than answers….
She’s no’ coming.
Damn it, why? He’d shown her passion—and patience. But she’d been skittish toward the end. Wild-eyed and spooked. Perhaps she feared the intensity of her own reaction? Or of
his
?
He recalled what Bowen had once told him. “We doona understand our own ferocity.” His cousin’s deadened eyes had been filled with loss. “What’s normal to us is no’ to others.” Bowen’s own mate had loved him, until she’d seen him turned. Then she’d fled.
Lucia too had fled—yet she hadn’t even seen a glimpse of the beast.
The Lykae called their transformation
letting the beast out of its cage
. Garreth would grow taller, his muscles extending, his fangs and black claws lengthening. The brutal and menacing shadow of his beast would flicker over him.
No, Lucia dinna see me like that.
He scowled at the waxing moon.
But she soon will.
She would run far, if he wasn’t careful. Another glance at the moon, and he knew what he would have to do on that night. “Ah, Lousha, my lass. It’s going to hurt. But there’s no getting around it.”
For now, she wasn’t coming to him, so again he’d go to her. He stood and
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