One Night With The Valkyrie. Jane Godman

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      Now she had joined the ranks of those who brought that look of horror to Brynhild’s face.

      I have no defense. If I met Adam once more, I would do it all over again.

      It was something she could never explain to Brynhild, Odin or to anyone else, partly because she couldn’t understand it herself. The magic of that all-too-brief time she had spent in Adam’s arms lingered in the thrill that trembled through her body. It really had felt like magic. As if an incredible, heart-stopping spell had been cast upon her. She would die as a punishment and as an example to other Valkyries who might be tempted to stray from the path of purity, but the brief life that was left to her had been changed forever by the touch of a mortal.

      The office building in which she had first met Adam had not fared well. Only one wall remained in place and that was leaning precariously outward. Twisted iron girders pointed skyward like gnarled, accusing fingers and the entrance doors hung on damaged hinges. Maja, probably the only individual in Syria who could not be harmed by any of the warring factions, stepped into the deserted foyer and felt a chill finger of dread track its way down her spine.

      Magtfuld was gone.

      * * *

      When Adam woke some hours later, it was to the discovery that he had been right. Maja had disappeared and the room was in semidarkness. The light told him it was early morning. He lay still, wondering what, apart from her absence, had changed. Then he realized the bombing and gunfire that had continued intermittently throughout the previous day seemed to have finally stopped.

      His shoulder throbbed unbearably; his whole body was tense and weary, yet at the same time he was experiencing a curious sense of peace. Aware that his zipper was undone, he attempted to fasten himself up one-handed. Feeling the evidence of his release on his body, he grimaced. What sort of fantasy had that been? While the imaginary sex had been better than anything he had ever experienced in reality, it had been over too soon. Shouldn’t a man be the superhuman, lasts-for-hours star of his own dreams?

      Just as well it was a dream, since I didn’t give a thought to protection.

      He spent a few minutes wishing he could summon her again. It was a foolish hope. Dreams like that came along once in a lifetime, and he supposed Maja had answered a deep-seated need inside him during a combination of terror and trauma. For someone who had always been rigorously in command of every aspect of his life, it was a strange sensation. I lost control. A smile touched his lips. And I liked it.

      It was just as well that the corporate world would never discover that the bad boy of the boardroom had a weakness. Finding the time to leave the helm of his vast media conglomerate of newspapers, magazines, TV and internet news publishers, and publishing houses had been difficult enough. If it had been for anyone other than Danny it wouldn’t have happened. Getting shot was an added complication. Hopefully, his injury wouldn’t put him out of action for too long once he got home. Adam had built a global brand on the strength of his personal charisma. He couldn’t spare even a minute to let that slide.

      Struggling to his feet, he made his way to the curtained-off commode. With normality restored, he returned to the bed and propped himself against pillows that were as hard as bags of cement. It was impossible to get comfortable, so he settled for the best he could do...which was somewhere between discomfort and agony.

      He would be leaving Syria today. For the sake of his battered body and his damaged psyche—anyone who needed the sort of illusion he had created for himself in the form of Maja had a few unresolved issues—it was time to go. He thought of the beautiful countryside he had seen on his travels, with its rolling hills full of olive and lemon trees. Everyone he encountered had been warmhearted and helpful. This was a heartbreaking land and he would leave it with regret. For the first time ever, he felt the need to do something with his life other than make money. Although he had no idea what it would mean in practice, being here had unleashed a need within him that he intended to explore on his return home. The worst thing about leaving Syria was that he would be going without having accomplished what he had come here for. He still hadn’t found any information about Danny.

      Danny had battled with learning difficulties all his life. It infuriated Adam that some people couldn’t figure out that didn’t mean Danny was dumb. He was a whole lot smarter than Adam in so many ways; it just took him longer to learn things. Their father had died when Danny was a baby and their mother had remarried almost immediately. Although their lifestyle was privileged, their stepfather was not a warm man, and despite their age difference, the two brothers had grown closer than ever. When their mother died, Adam had been twenty-one. He hadn’t needed her deathbed reminder to care for Danny. His eleven-year-old brother had moved in with him. Adam had found a school that specialized in helping students with Danny’s needs. Even though the diagnosis of severe dyslexia had come late, the teachers had supported him well and Danny had thrived. He had graduated high school and, refusing Adam’s offers of help, had found himself a job in a charitable foundation working with refugees.

      Adam had done his best to talk him out of coming to Syria, but Danny had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Adam smiled. It was a Lyon trait. His own was several miles wider. His mind conjured up an image of his brother in the days before he’d left. So sure of what he was doing, so dedicated, so determined.

      “That’s where we differ, Danny. You have strong principles, and are prepared to stand up for them.” Adam remembered his own words just before Danny left.

      Danny had returned his gaze steadily. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re the person who raised me.”

      Adam had given a self-deprecating laugh. “I have no illusions about myself.”

      Once Danny got to Syria, the brothers had maintained a regular communication. Calling, messaging, emailing whenever they could. Then Danny’s attitude had started to change. He had always been upset about what was happening in Syria. Suddenly, instead of wanting to help in a humanitarian way, he began to talk about taking real action. That was when Adam started to get concerned about him. When the communication stopped, his concern turned to fear.

      He found out from the organizers of the charity that Danny had gotten friendly with a group of men he’d met in one of the local villages. It was only after Danny left the nonprofit that the organizers discovered his new friends were mercenaries.

      Adam withdrew the photograph of Danny from his pocket and looked at the familiar face. At the clear, laughing eyes so like his own, but lacking Adam’s cynicism and ruthlessness. His fist clenched hard on his thigh.

      I must find him. I have to take him home.

      The opening of the door interrupted his thoughts and a small, tousled head inserted itself into the room.

      Tarek smiled when he saw Adam was awake. “I can put the light on?”

      Adam nodded. “Please do.”

      Tarek’s presence was a welcome interruption. The dog he had carried with him on the previous day also seemed to consider himself included in the invitation. After bounding into the room with a shrill bark, the little creature leaped onto the bed and made several enthusiastic attempts to lick Adam’s face.

      “He likes you.” Tarek took the chair at the side of the bed. “He knows you saved us when the Reapers were chasing us.”

      The dog might have been a terrier, but his unkempt appearance meant his parentage was indeterminate. He was young and friendly, and once his initial exuberance had died down, he curled up on Adam’s СКАЧАТЬ