Valkyr

Valkyr

Belladonna Bordeaux

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What happens when the woman you love turns out to be what you detest?

 

Paranormal hunter Patrick MacGillvrey has lost his faith in everything except his girlfriend. Liv de Nostradame is perfect in and out of bed and has been his salvation since his sister's death. That is until he fids out she's a very specific type of elf, a Valkyr. The only redeeming quality she possesses after that revelation is that she can lead Patrick to the truth about his sister's death.

 

She can take him to Asgard and the land of the elves.

 

To save the woman who loves him desperately from a fate worse than death, he'll have to open his eyes to the truth.
 

 
PUBLISHED BY: Eirelander Publishing
ISBN: 1452855838
PUBLICATION DATE: 2010
WORD COUNT: 13000
SEXUAL CONTENT RATING: 5 5 5 5 5
EBOOK READER RATING:
CATEGORIES: Romantic Fiction, Fantasy, Multiple Partners
KEYWORDS: Erotica, Erotic Romance, Rough Sex, Contemporary, Fantasy
 

EBOOKS BY Eirelander Publishing

EBOOKS BY Belladonna Bordeaux

 
EXCERPT
COPYRIGHT Belladonna Bordeaux/2010

Chapter One

Who invited you to my nightmare?

“What the hell happened to you?” Patrick MacGillvrey’s question echoed off the walls. A sigh of disbelief followed. He couldn’t take his eyes off the brass nameplate affixed to the commemorative plaque. No way. He gritted his teeth. No how did you die in the attack.

Sure, he’d seen the report recalling how his sister was mowed down by the paranormal, Jakob LeFay. In his opinion the report was too clean, too clinical, to be believable. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he shook his head. “I know you’re alive.”

“You can’t change what’s happened,” Mr. Corning informed him. His heavy steps were like a death knell as they hit the polished marble floor of the council chamber. “Truthfully, you should be proud of your sister. She gave her life for the cause.”

Patrick’s gaze shifted to the long table, then to the crest hung above Mr. Corning’s throne-like chair. A man with an oak stake raised high above his head stood ready to cut down a vampire. That was the Council for the Preservation of Humanity’s cause. Death to every paranormal. That was it. Kill them. Destroy all evidence they ever existed. Obliterate them from the face of the earth. A mantra drilled into his skull since birth. “Of course she did,” he lied smoothly.

“I heard you have another date with Liv,” Corning changed the subject. “What’s she like?”

“Normal,” Patrick replied, physically forcing his voice to stay bland. Unbidden his cock hardened and his desire to see her again—naked, moaning his name, begging him to fuck her hard—shot through him. She was so hot in bed she’d scorched his skin and he admitted she was the only thing that kept him going anymore.

Putting a tight lid on his lust, Patrick willed his erection to relax.

“The Council would like to meet her.”

“Why?” Patrick spun around to face his boss and his desire for Liv fell away. His gaze locked with Corning’s steady stare. “Do you suspect her of being a paranormal? Is she on the radar?”

“No. No.” Corning had the audacity to raise his hands in the air as if to say, “my reasons are purely innocent”.

Patrick knew better. The Council didn’t meet a hunter’s significant other without an ulterior motive. Almost too often they suspected a paranormal genome in the potential spouse’s DNA code. In the case of a normal partner, they’d pull out all the stops to recruit the person into the cause. It was how they’d operated for more than twenty years. “Don’t even consider for a moment that I’ll let her become a breeder for the cause.”

“You love her,” Corning stated in a matter of fact tone.

“That’s none of your damn business.” The words shot out before he thought better of his situation. He was a hunter and loyal to the Council. A killer of the highest caliber. Fuck loyalty to the Council. His sister was dead. Hell, his hands itched to go around Corning’s throat because he’d sent Shannon on her last mission.

Calming himself, Patrick knew who was to blame. Himself. He’d let his kid sister go into the proverbial lion’s den. I should have been with her. I could have protected her. “Forgive me for my outburst, Mr. Corning. It’s been a long couple of months.”

“I understand, son.” Corning clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot since Shannon’s death.”

Don’t call me son. “All right, but I’d like an explanation why you want to meet Liv.”

“Other than the Council thinks she’s been very good for you since your sister’s untimely passing?” Corning turned his gaze to the commemorative plaque. “Let’s say, we’ve taken an interest in her for obvious reasons.” A pregnant pause stretched between them. “Her last name.”

Nostradame? ”I know it’s unusual to share a surname with an infamous seer, but I can assure you, with Liv what you see is what you get.” Shy, mild-mannered, worked with underprivileged kids, she lived her life without any secrets. Except for what they shared when she took her clothes off and let her hair down, then she was the passionate woman he’d come to know and adore. One who will do anything to make me happy. Patrick wasn’t going to admit that to anybody, not even to his confessor. “Honest.” He chuckled. “Even Liv laughs about her name.”

“Which is exactly why we want her to visit the Council,” Corning said. “Who knows, she might have some untapped ability to see the future. If she does have the gift of predication, well, that doesn’t mean she’s paranormal.”

“What will you do with her if she can’t read tea leaves or burnt entrails?” Immediately suspicious, Patrick returned his gaze to the brass nameplate.

“If she doesn’t, then there’s no harm, no foul except she enjoys our hospitality during supper.”

“The better question is what will you do if she can?”

“We’ll ask her to join us. Having a seer in the ranks is a distinct advantage as we war against the paranormals.”

“Fine, I’ll ask her. No guarantees though. I won’t force her. She works long hours and gives a lot to her kids.” Sometimes more than I think she should, he finished to himself. Out of his peripheral vision he watched Corning grin. Shut up, jack ass, or they’ll indoctrinate her as a breeder. The thought made him sick to his stomach.

“I understand, but try. She could be a great asset to the cause.” Corning turned on the toe of his shoe. “You do trust us, don’t you, Patrick?”

“Yes,” Patrick said. He took a moment to reconsider his position with the Council and then mentally reviewed the report outlining Shannon’s death. His heart skipped a beat when Corning walked away; his shoulders seemed to shake with silent mirth.

Bowing his head, Patrick heaved a sigh. He stiffened his spine and strode in the other direction. He passed beneath the crest on his way to the gym, his body screaming to work off some of his rage on a punching bag when he pictured Liv in the moment when she shot off. Her fingers had been clinging to his shoulders, her gasping breaths driving him to his own climax.

The picture in his mind changed to show him Liv standing in this auspicious room. Her hands clutched a bow and arrow. Nobody stood behind her. No. She stood at the head of the table—alone. There was something different, almost ethereal about her.

Every instinct he possessed warned him away from bringing Liv before the Council.

Patrick slid his gaze to the other side of the room in time to see the door close behind Mr. Corning.

You’ll meet her when hell freezes over.

* * * * *

“Do you think he’ll go for it?”

Liv de Nostradame heard her friend, Aldrich Masters’s, question. She answered with a small shrug. I haven’t the foggiest.

What had started as a favor to a friend had turned her quiet world upside down. When Shannon MacGillverey approached her about keeping an eye on Patrick, it seemed like such a simple request. Look out for the man. Shannon should have added a ‘period, end of order’ to her appeal. “I’m so screwed,” she whispered.

That was a gross understatement if ever she’d uttered one. Fucking Patrick was one thing. By Elfheim, it wasn’t unusual for an elf maiden to take an interest in mortal flesh. Mortal men were much more interesting than the logical and perpetually unbending male members of her kind. The bonus was they were also better in bed.

But to fall in love with what her kind called an earth-walker was a whole other kettle of rotting fish. She could imagine his royal pain in the ass, Prince Soren, ordering her to appear before him in the Great Hall of Elfheim and then ripping off the pointed tips of her ears for her transgression of falling in love with not only an earth-walker but a hunter to boot.

“I think it’ll work,” Sigmund Wolfsun stated calmly. “She fucks him, reads his mind and then reports to Prince Soren what the Council’s next move is. He’ll probably give you a medal for going above and beyond the call of duty. You’ll be a hero to all the elves, Liv.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Liv stated. “I told you. We give Patrick the opportunity to play out his sexual fantasies before we high tail it to Elfheim.” Where I’ll plead my innocence before the Elvish Elders and hope for the best outcome possible. Her gaze shifted between Aldrich and Sigmund. “There will be no future-telling or telepathy involved. Is that clear?”

“He’s here,” Aldrich announced. His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “are you sure we can’t do a little intelligence gathering? Come on, Liv, it’s for the greater good.”

“No. Patrick deserves our respect. He’s still mourning Shannon. We do this and then forget about him.” And as she said it, her heart broke all over again. Willing the tears away from her eyes, she blew out a breath while straightening her clothes. “How do I look?”

Leave it to her elvish friends to shake their heads as if to say, ‘it’s not important, you won’t be wearing your clothes long enough to worry if the hemline of your skirt is straight’. And they wondered why elf-maidens were so hot for mortal men. Sheesh.

**END EXCERPT**
 

 
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