“No,” he said, and my heart dropped into my gut.
His lips nibbled on mine, urging them to part. They did.
I’ve loved you for five years, Beloved. My feelings haven’t changed, but they have grown deeper since you returned to me. You were beautiful and intelligent and strong before, but now there is a depth to you, a welcoming warmth and softness that draws me to you, binding me in ways I never imagined. You’re everything to me, Francesca. You’re my light and life and reason for being here. You bring me joy where there was only existence; hope when there was only despair. I loved you that first day when you wanted to kiss me, but were too nervous to try, and have continued to love you every day since.
Tears burned behind my eyes. That is . . . oh, Ben. That’s the most wonderful thing anyone has ever said to me. I love you, too. And I really messed up that first kiss, didn’t I?
He laughed, and slid out of me, rolling on his side, tucking me against him, his big hands warm and comforting on my hip and back. Yes. But I greatly enjoyed your attempts.
Chapter 17
“It’s going to be dawn soon,” Ben commented several hours later, as we approached the Faire.
“Then we’d better try summoning Loki now, before the sun comes up. I’d much rather do it when you’re able to be with me.”
I’m glad to know you don’t shun my help.
I told you before—I’ve never shunned your help. I just don’t like it when you try to take over things I’m supposed to do.
It’s in my nature to do so, I’m afraid. I have to constantly remind myself that you wouldn’t like it if I shielded you from trials.
My heart warmed at his admission, and by the fact that he was trying to accommodate himself to me just as I was to him.
When do you get your soul back?
I don’t know. It will return at some point.
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. There was the faintest shadow of a thought behind those words, something he was keeping from me. I ran over the seven steps that Imogen had told me were needed for a successful Joining: all of them from the marking, protection, various bodily exchanges, and emotional trust had been completed. So why didn’t Ben have his soul? I made a mental note to ask Imogen
“Goddess! Finnvid is sitting on my hot fried fish.”
I turned around and looked in alarm at where Isleif was trying to dig something out from underneath Finnvid. “What hot fried fish?”
“The hot fried fish we pillaged from the hot fried fish shop.” Isleif gave a mighty heave and held up a squashed blue and white box. “There, you see? It’s squashed. The hot fried fish panini is as flat as a gelding’s bollocks.”
Finnvid looked guilty. “I didn’t know that was there.”
“By the gods, you didn’t!” Isleif looked like he wanted to punch Finnvid, and since the three of them were crammed into the back of our borrowed car, I felt it best to quell any sort of squabble.
“I’m sure Finnvid didn’t mean to sit on your late-night snack, although I would like to point out that you three managed to clean out that fast-food place’s all-you-can-eat buffet, and shouldn’t need late-night snacks to begin with. I thought the owner was going to call the cops on us until Ben handed over his hard-earned money to pay for the vast amount of fish and shrimp and strudel you three ate.”
“You ate a lot, too,” Finnvid pointed out.
I glared at him before turning to face the front again. “I was recovering my strength. And it’s not polite to notice how much a woman eats. We get paranoid about that sort of thing.”
“Aye, it does take a lot to recover from a three-hour rutting,” Eirik allowed.
I sighed. “I told you guys to please move past that. We weren’t rutting the entire time. It just seems that way because you guys insisted on standing outside the door to our room.”
“How many times did you hear the goddess yell?” Eirik asked Isleif, who was busily trying to reshape his squashed fish sandwich into something resembling the original form.
“Three.”
“I heard four,” Finnvid said, idly eating a potato wedge from Isleif’s fish box.
“It wasn’t anything like that!” I said, appalled and amused at the same time. I’d long since given up hope of ever having anything even remotely approaching privacy around the Vikings.
“It was four,” Ben said.
I glared at him.
“Well, it was,” he answered the glare.
“Possibly, but you don’t have to encourage them.”
“Four times?” Eirik pursed his lips and looked with new consideration at Ben, who I was annoyed to note had a remarkably smug air about him. “Just the goddess, or both of you?”
“Eirik!”
He raised his eyebrows at my outraged look. “If it was you who found pleasure four times, then that is nothing. But if the Dark One is able to rut with you four separate times in three hours, we wish to know how he does it. Even Finnvid can’t empty his stones four times in three hours, and he’s happy to rut with anything.”
Finnvid adopted a modest expression.
I looked at Ben. “Do you think the Vikingahärta has enough power to zap them back to Valhalla?”
“I don’t know, but it’s definitely worth a try.” Ben pulled up at the now empty parking field, smiled, then said something in what sounded to my nonlinguistic ears as Swedish.
What did you say? I asked as the Vikings piled out of the car, murmuring to themselves.
I said three.
Three?
Yes, three.
It took me a minute before I realized what he meant. I socked him on the arm, which just made him laugh and put the very same arm around me. I’m sorry, Francesca. I assure you that I had no intention of kissing and telling. But there is a matter of my sexual prowess to be considered.
Your sexual prowess is no one’s business but ours, and to be honest, I’m amazed I can still walk.
He laughed again, and pulled me closer. Shall we go to your mother’s trailer and leave the summoning for tonight? I can’t guarantee you that I’m up to another three times, but I believe I can at least make you yell out my name a couple of times.
I really won’t be able to walk if you do.
“Summons it is, then,” he said, but he pinched my behind as he said it.
The sky was starting to tint rose by the time we assembled in the isolated spot in the far pasture. I held the Vikingahärta in both hands, ignoring the now faded yellowish smudges on the palm of my left hand.
I cleared my mind, focused on the image of Loki, and repeated the invocation.
At first, I thought nothing was going to happen. The air in front of us wavered a little, as if something might be resisting the summons, but after a half minute of anticipation, it finally shimmered into a swirly oval and parted to reveal the form of a man.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Alphonse de Marco snarled as his form solidified. “Why have you summoned me again, foolish mortal?”
“Bullfrogs!” What is going on? Why do I keep getting him when I’m trying to summon Loki?
I don’t know, but I don’t like it. “My Beloved is not mortal, nor did she summon you intentionally,” Ben said, stepping in front of me. “What ties do you have to the god Loki?”
De Marco spat out a word that would shock a sailor, and dissolved into nothing.
“Houston, I think we have a problem,” I said as I sat on a large rock and looked down at my hands. The Vikingahärta looked perfectly fine. I squinted at it in the light of Ben’s lantern. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. So why wasn’t it working?