The Valkyrie's Guardian Read Free

coolers and whiskey. He tossed those in the water too, after crushing them with his bare hands — to prevent them from floating, or because he thought they would explode or something? His dripping blood mingled with water, painting the floor pink. The drunken blond woman in the front seat swayed and whimpered in fright.
    Jack MacGunn: mascot for creative DUI prevention.
    Considering the interference in the boater’s minds and Jack’s strange behavior, there was more going on than a case of reckless driving, and Cassie wished she knew what. Jack hadn’t reacted much to the gun, and the driver had seemed to pull it without consciously deciding to do so. She gripped the steering wheel and watched Jack’s eyes for warning that he would fly into a rage.
    Jack leaned over the driver — who crouched, whining like a girl — and yanked the keychain apart. Sunlight glinted off the key as it flew in the air then fluttered down into the water. Jack wrenched the emergency oars out of the side compartments, mindless of the paraphernalia he sent flying, and shoved the oars into the laps of the cowering men.
    Jack articulated each syllable, “Now get off my lake. And don’t come back.”
    Though the first time seemed to happen in a flash, it appeared in slow motion when the man sitting across from the driver raised his arm to point the barrel of a gun at Cassie. Jack pivoted and stepped in front — point blank. At the same time the man squeezed the trigger, Jack slapped the gun aside with a wet crick sound that meant the man’s wrist had broken clean through. Cassie heard the bullet ricochet off the sandstone wall behind her and far to the right.
    Jack made a growling sound, raw tenor with a feral edge that raked down her spine. He snapped the pistol in half like it was plastic, then stared the man down, flexing his hands alternately into fists then claws. Cassie held her breath, waiting for him to lose control, wondering what she should do, if there was anything she could do to stop an enraged berserker.
    Jack ,she nudged his mind, but he was still closed off. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
    He shook his head and slapped a hand over his eyes, probably trying to hide their iridescent glowing. His shoulders heaved in a visible struggle for control. Finally he turned, wearing a stricken, miserable expression.
    She fished his ski out of the water while Jack leaped back across, ripped off the ski vest, and shoved the boat in gear. He tried to wave her away, but she knelt at his side and ignored his seething as she healed the lacerations on his hands. At least her abilities proved useful, limited though they may be.
    She kept her thoughts quiet so Jack wouldn’t think she needed comforting. She didn’t. She’d only worried he would do something highly illegal, like commit aggravated murder; he did vaguely illegal deeds constantly. Just now Jack had staved off his berserker rage, control she didn’t know he possessed.
    What was the matter with those people? Bad enough to be drunk at dawn, but the chaotic noise in their heads? And the silencers on their guns — not typical equipment for civilians. Once Jack calmed down she’d fish for intel. He seemed to know something.
    She’d seen him like this before; jaw clenched, muscles tensed, eyes narrowed and all expression wiped from his face. It meant he struggled to douse his anger so he could think, the berserker battling the soldier for dominance inside his head.
    Jack vented his frustration on his fancy boat, which was up to the task. He shot around the channel like he auditioned for a James Bond movie. He had worked as a stuntman before, so he knew his business even though it felt risky. They whipped passed Gunsight Butte, and Cassie was about to ask him to drive back to camp for breakfast when his luck ran out.

Chapter 2
    â€œMind if I stare at you close up instead of from across the