***

  It was more than a day since Ingrid and Nika had vanished into the ley lines, and Erik was doing his best to stay calm.

  He could not seem to reach Nika directly, but their Chosen bond was intact and untroubled, telling him that she was in good health and possibly even happy, wherever Ingrid had taken her to. He hoped they got the book back with minimal difficulty, and mostly he hoped that Magda was not there when Ingrid and Nika arrived.

  He had to be in Uppsala in three more nights. There was not much time to get things arranged, especially not if he was going to have to work alone.

  The most important thing for him to do would be to ensure that there were no humans around with his vampire kin began to arrive. The very young ones were unable to spend more than twelve hours without a kill, and there would be many youngsters at the congress. That was a lot of killing that would need to be covered up. Better, he thought, to just prevent it. To that end, he went to Karlsborg Fortress and called on the SOG.

  He wasn’t foolish enough to call on the actual SOG, just on the stores. He “borrowed” a uniform and just enough paperwork and ephemera to give his planned ruse the stamp of authenticity. His last act was to liberate a jeep from the garage and take it out of the Fortress and on the road.

  He drove to Gamla Uppsala Museum and parked the jeep, its Swedish army insignia and plates plain to see, in front of the main door. He adjusted his olive-green beret with its SOG patch and walked into the museum lobby.

  There was a clerk at the information desk, a bit apart from the ticket-takers. He walked up to her.

  “Hej,” he greeted. “My name is Captain Thorvald, SOG. I need to speak to the museum director, is he here?”

  She looked up at him with surprise and excitement in her pale eyes. “Uh… Yes, Captain. Right this way.”

  She led him past the ticket-taker and into the director’s office. The director, a middle-aged man with an athletic build, met him halfway across the room with a hearty handshake.

  “Welcome to Gamla Uppsala Museum, Captain,” the director said. “I’m Sven Nordstrom. How can I help you?”

  “Mr. Nordstrom,” Erik greeted, shaking his hand. “I need to talk to you about closing the facility for the next 48 hours.”

  Nordstrom’s jaw dropped. “Closing? But…”

  “I realize that this is a peak time for tours, and I’m very sorry about the inconvenience. The Supreme Commander of the SAF would not make this request unless it was very important.” He gestured toward a tour bus that was being boarded just outside the window. “We need to stop these tours immediately and clear the site.”

  “What is this about?”

  Erik met his eyes seriously, and tiny pinpoints of green Draugr fire flared in their depths. The human’s mind acquiesced and believed every word he said. “I cannot share certain details - top secret. But the Supreme Commander has reason to believe that it would be unwise for tourists to enter the Gamla Uppsala site for the next 48 hours. They need to be cleared immediately.”

  Nordstrom stared blankly at him for a heartbeat, and Erik feared he may have mesmerized him too deeply. The man shook himself slightly and said, “There won’t be any harm to the site, will there? This is a rich historical and archaeological site. It is invaluable.”

  “I understand that, and that’s why we’re trying to keep it, and everyone else, safe.” He sighed and forced the man to meet his eyes. He’d had enough of subtlety and bowing to human free will. “Clear. This. Site.”

  Nordstrom shivered once, then moved to obey, placing phone calls to tour guides and docents. Erik went and stood in the main lobby, watching as the flow of tourists was stopped, reversed, and sent back out to wherever they had come from. It all happened in an admirably orderly manner, and it was swiftly carried out. The army could not have done the job better.

  He was watching the last of the humans being loaded up into their tour buses when he caught the scent of an Ulfen nearby. He looked around and saw her standing at the entrance, her thick blonde hair plaited into a single braid and lying thick on her shoulder. She nodded to him when she was certain that he had seen her, and he squared his stance, facing her. He did not pull a weapon.

  She walked to him, keeping a safe distance away, with a support pillar nearby in case she needed to duck for cover. Erik intended to use the ticket desk for cover if it came to that. She looked unarmed, but he had learned never to underestimate the wolves.

  “Huntsman,” she greeted. “I am Ardella.”

  He nodded to her in response, civil but not exactly friendly. He said nothing.

  She shifted on her feet, cagey, and said, “What are your people planning for Uppsala? We heard that you are calling a great meeting, the first of its kind.”

  “I told your alpha and that I would be ending the raids. This is part of that.”

  Ardella took a cautious step forward, and he held his ground. “The Faery do not believe that you mean it.”

  “Then the Faery should watch and see.”

  “What are you really doing?”

  She was closer now, and he could have reached out and touched her. He knew that he should have backed up and put more space between them, but he thought that might look like an admission of weakness, so he stayed where he was.

  “I told you. Ending the raids and dealing with the First at the same time.”

  “I have a contact who says that two of the First were recently killed.”

  He kept his face expressionless. “Which two?”

  “Bjorn and Kjeld.”

  The news surprised him. He had expected Bjorn to be the last of them to go. He had always been spectacularly wily. “Who is your contact?”

  “A member of the Dark Sisterhood who has broken ranks to side with Faery.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “She developed a conscience. She says she inherited it from her father.”

  She looked aside, and he saw a tiny tattoo on the left side of her neck, just below her ear. It was Hagalaz, the symbol for destructive and uncontrollable natural forces. It seemed an appropriate rune for a werewolf to wear. She touched the symbol, knowing he was looking at it, and then she turned back to face him.

  “Remember this sign, Huntsman. My contact wears the same symbol.”

  He had seen that tattoo once before. “Mia,” he said.

  Ardella looked impressed, but only for a moment. “The very same. Good memory.”

  Erik hesitated, then took a gamble. “If your pack wants to witness what I do, have them come to Uppsala when the Draugr meet. Stay outside the circle of the royal mounds and watch. If they see what I do, they will believe that my words have been sincere.”

  She looked skeptical, but said, “I will tell my mate. I can’t guarantee he will come.”

  “You can only do what you can do,” he said. “Ardrik is known for his hard head.”

  She smiled briefly, brilliantly, at the mention of her alpha’s name. “So you know him.”

  “We’ve spoken.”

  Nordstrom came and distracted Erik by announcing, “The tourists have all gone. The site is clear.”

  “Thank you. You may go.”

  The museum director did as he was told and left the museum, heading for home. When Erik turned back to speak to Ardella, he found that she was gone. He sighed and went back out to the jeep.

  ***

  Nika and Ingrid returned to the house late in the night, the Book of Odin once again safely in Nika’s possession. The house was quiet and still and they found Erik sleeping in front of the fire. Ingrid kissed Nika on the cheek and went up to the loft, leaving the two of them alone.

  Nika put the book on the kitchen table and curled up beside Erik, her arms around his waist. He stirred at her touch and opened his eyes.

  “You’re back,” he mumbled.

  She kissed his shoulder. “Yes. Natasha is dead.”

  “Pardon me if I don’t weep.”

  He turned in her arms so that he was facing her, his hand brushing a stray hair out of her eyes. She smiled at him and touched his face.

  “Tomorrow night everything changes,” she whispered.

  “What do you mean?”

  She ran a hand down his chest. “After tomorrow, you’ll be king.”

  He chuckled and pulled her into his arms. “Then nothing changes but a word.”

  “You’ll have more responsibilities,” she said. “You might not…”

  “Might not have time for you? Is that what you were going to say?” He looked into her eyes. She looked away, and he turned her face back toward him. “I will never, ever put you last in line, my love.”

  “I just…”

  He silenced her with a kiss, showing her in action what his words were failing to convey. She put her arms around him and tangled her fingers in his blond hair, kissing him fiercely. He teased her lips with the tip of his tongue, and she opened for him, letting him inside. He explored her mouth with leisurely passion, his hand running down her side to cup her firm buttock and pull her closer still.

  He kissed her until she was dizzy from it, and she rolled him onto his back. He looked up at her, and the love in his eyes allayed all of her fears. She knelt over him, straddling his hips, her fingers running lightly down the midline of his body. He shivered, and she smiled.

  They undressed each other in the firelight, the glowing flames warming their skin. He cupped her breasts almost reverently, and she pressed herself against the growing heat between his legs. She teased him for as long as she could stand it, rubbing their bodies together until they both demanded more. He groaned when she let him slip inside of her, and she tipped her head back with pleasure.

  They took their time. They kissed and touched, long, languid trails of fingertips and lips, and all the while their bodies were joined as one. He took her hands in his, and she interlaced their fingers, squeezing gently. She began to rock, slowly at first, then with more speed as the feeling grew sweeter. He pushed up into her, rising to meet her downward motions, and it was like heaven.

  Sensation demanded speed, and they moved faster, desperate for each other and for the release they could only find together. When the moment came, it was a tidal wave of purest ecstasy, and then they were spent, lying in one another’s arms in a happy haze.

  Chapter Sixteen

  At the time appointed, they gathered on the burial mounds at Gamla Uppsala. A series of hills were the only remnants of the mighty temple that had once stood here, but in his mind’s eye, Erik could still see it as it was in its grandest days. The tallest hill was surmounted by a makeshift wooden platform that had been erected for the purpose, and Erik stood there with Nika at his side, watching as hundreds of Draugr filled the meadow. He had his double-headed axe there with him, his hand on the grip, the blades hones and shining.

  The wind blew in from a stand of trees to the side of the fenced-off field, and it carried with it the scent of the Ulfen. The other Draugr sensed it, too, and there was a low murmur through the crowd. Nika took Erik’s hand and squeezed it nervously.

  There was a flutter in the assembled vampires, and then a rush of power announced the arrival of the rest of the First. Olaf, Brevik, Dag, Halvar and Agnar strode up to the base of the hill, moving as a unit. It was almost as if they had come to raid the meeting. In their midst, Magda and Mia walked side by side their faces grim. Magda was wearing the black of mourning.

  When all of the vampires had finally arrived, Erik was stunned by the sheer numbers of them. He had no idea that there were so many Draugr in the world. The meadow below the burial mounds was thronged with faces, most of whom he did not recognize. He would have felt more confident in his plan with fewer Draugr to contend with; when a group was as large as this one, it could become unpredictable and dangerous. Mob mentality was a frightful thing when the mob was made up of vampires.

  Brevik shouted up to him, his voice raised so that all of those in attendance could hear. “Tell us why you called us, Thorvald.”

  He looked out over the group of vampires. “I am Erik Thorvald, the son and heir of Hakon, our first king.” He heard a low murmur, and he waited for it to pass. “I have come to claim his crown.”

  The murmur became a roar of surprise, outrage, and even acclamation. The other First looked at one another in disbelief, and Olaf said to Mia, “What did you do to him?”

  She shook her head, staring up at her father in consternation. “Not this.”

  Magda crossed her arms and stared up at Erik with a hateful look upon her face. “King,” she spat. “I will not live under his thumb again.”

  Dag looked around the group, his eyes drawn toward the forest. “Why are the Ulfen here?”

  Agnar shrugged. “If all of your enemies were gathering together, don’t you think you’d want to see what they were doing?”

  Erik held up his hand, and the Draugr fell silent. A group of young vampires, men and women who had probably been turned in just the last year or so, swarmed forward, their eyes bright with excitement. They were like fans at a rock concert, rushing the stage. He wondered if this was how rock stars felt. It was not a disagreeable sensation.

  He gestured toward Nika. “This is my Chosen. She has mastered the rune magic of Odin, and she will rule at my side.”

  Nika looked at him in surprise, and he smiled at her. Didn’t see that coming, did you? he asked her in her mind. She shook her head.

  One of the young ones jumped up onto the platform with them and turned to face the crowd. “Hail King Erik! Hail King Erik!”

  His chant was taken up by his friends, then by the other young ones, until it spread through almost the entire crowd. Erik had never dreamed that it would have been so easy to take control. A suspicion touched him, and he looked at Nika, asking her telepathically, Do you have something to do with this?

  My sisters, she said. They’re making them...malleable.

  He asked, Does that include the First?

  With a little more effort, she nodded, it can. Would you like us to raise the power?

  He smiled grimly. Please, as long as you can exclude me from the effects.

  She took his hand, and he could feel the shimmering warmth of rune magic between their palms. Guaranteed.

  Then let it happen.

  She shifted her focus briefly, and then he felt a shimmer of power course over him. There was an almost-visible frisson in the assembled Draugr, and they surged forward, crowding closer to the platform. The only place that wasn’t filled in by young ones was a pocket around the First, who were standing together directly in front of him. Nobody crowded the First.

  He gestured to his former brothers and their Valtaeigr escorts. “Come up here,” he called them.

  Olaf grinned. “He’s calling us! The glory days are going to be back!”

  Out of all of them, Dag and Magda looked the least convinced. He turned to her. “I’m not taking part in this,” he told her. “This feels wrong.”

  “I agree,” she said. “Mia, come with us. We’re leaving.”

  Her daughter looked stunned. “But we can’t leave.”

  “Can’t you feel that? The witches are here, and they’re trying to affect our minds. I will not accept him, ever, and especially not when I’m forced. I have had enough of that to last a hundred lifetimes.” She grabbed Mia’s arm. “Come along!”

  The three of them broke away from the First and headed toward the road, leaving the increasingly frenzied acclamation of the new Draugr king.

  Erik saw them as they began to leave. “Stop them,” he told Nika. “They can’t get away, Magda especially.”

  He saw a hard look come into his beloved’s eyes, and she raised her free hand. It began to glow with runic fire, and the young ones thronging before them cheered like spectators at a fireworks show. She threw the magical ball into the air, and it exploded above Dag and Magda’s heads. Mia pulled free of her mother and ran back to vanish into the throng, so she escaped when the magic turned into a glowing net of runes and magic that fell over Dag and Magda, pinning them in place.

  The rest of the First joined him on the platform, the four of them standing in a little clump beside him. The crowd burst into applause and cheers. There was a wild, bacchanalian edge to it, and Erik began to fear the excessive enthusiasm of his new subjects. It was hard to control one person at a time, let alone a thousand. For the first time, he doubted if he was doing the right thing.

  “You all saw the video,” he said. “Magda and Kjeld sent it.”

  There was another cheer. They were applauding the depredation of the faery. That would never, ever do.

  “The things that were done in that video were wrong and are henceforth forbidden. If anyone raids against the faery from this time forward, you will answer to me.”

  A murmur crawled through the crowd, and he saw them looking at one another in confusion.

  “My part in that debacle was the result of enchantments cast by Dark Sisters and traitorous Valtaeigr. I was wronged, and in the process, the faery were wronged. The faery have committed to going to war with us over these attacks.”

  “Then let them!” someone in the crowd shouted. “War! We are Draugr! We will fight!”

  “You will fight and you will die,” he snapped. “The faery are far more numerous than we are. Look around you. This is our entire population. The faery are worldwide and are so numerous that they could never fit into one place. They would destroy us. And they have at their sides the Ulfen and the other shifters.”

  As if to emphasize the point, Ardrik’s pack made themselves visible on the outer edge of the forest, close enough that they could charge and attack in less than a heartbeat. A ripple of fear and confusion spread through the crowd, and the Draugr drew inward, retreating from the wolves. Ardrik threw his head back and howled, and answering howls rose into the night air on all sides. They were surrounded.

  “There will be no more raids on faery,” Erik shouted again. “And drinking of faery blood and faery-tainted dreyri is forbidden!” He picked up his axe and looked at the First. “Kneel.”