Valkyrie's Claim (Academy of Immortals 2)

I rummage around, looking for a black shirt I know I’ve seen before. “Ah!” I say to myself when I find it. “Gotcha.”

My finger grazes something on the bottom. A loose object—like jewelry. I pick it up and electricity jolts up my hand. I drop it and it lands quietly against fabric. It’s a ring. Smooth, etched silver. A deep purple stone in the setting. I’ve never seen it before. I pick it up and place it on my finger. It, like the pants I’m wearing, fits perfectly.

I pull the shirt over my head and walk over to the mirror. It’s stringy, the fabric slashed across the chest and back. It’s less shirt and more like pieces of fabric held together by a wish. My black lace bra peeks out and the straps criss-cross over my back. I quickly fix my hair, smoothing out the long, blonde strands. The ring glints in the light, and I wonder for a moment if I’m foolish for putting it on. The metal hums against my skin, sending warmth along my limbs.

I keep it on.

I’m not sure where it came from or who sent it to me, but I do know one thing.

It’s now mine.

When I agreed to lead the Immortals in the Crusade, it was assumed I would need to keep the five semi-feral warriors in line. They’d spent years in captivity, first as members of Camulus’ army, later as slaves to the Shaman. They were raw, territorial, horny, and depraved. We had a mission—get the key, go to the temple, stop the apocalypse. From there we could part ways. My job would be to keep them focused and on task. I’d keep them civilized.

So far I’d slept with Armin multiple times. Battled with Agis. Convinced Miya to break his vow of celibacy and turned on some kind of hyper-psychic link between me and Rupert.

None of that is compared to what has been going on with me and Marshal even before we got to the Academy.

My first glimpse of the party up ahead only confirms how foolish I’d been about understanding the Immortals. These men have lived many lifetimes. Although, sure, a lot of that was pillaging and burning down villages, they’re also bred from royalty. They’ve dined with kings and queens. They’ve seduced. Smoozed. And damn it to Hades, Marshal, in particular, knows how to throw a hell of a party.

Music pulses down the hall, some kind of hypnotic beat. It emanates from a tall arched door at the end of the hallway where faint pink light spills though the opening.

“Where are we?” I ask, trying to acclimate myself to our location in the school.

“These rooms are typically reserved for head boy and head girl.” She gestures to a room at the opposite end of the hall with a matching door. “I guess your boy got a promotion.”

“He’s not my boy,” I mutter, seeing him just inside the doorway. He’s wearing tight fitting slacks and a gray sweater covering a button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He’s holding a ridiculous chalice in his hand and the smile on his mouth is dangerously appealing. I know what that mouth can do, that tongue…warmth creeps up my spine.

“Hildi!”

I look down at the little fairy. “What?”

“Stop drooling over your ex.”

“He’s not my ex.”

She snorts. “Do you know how good my sense of smell is?”

“Do I want to?”

“Let’s just say I know exactly who’s been fucking who in here.” She wrinkles her nose at two underclassmen eyeing each other from across the room. “And more than once you’ve come home with Marshal’s scent all over you.”

“I have?” Yes, I’m playing dumb. It’s embarrassing. No one knows. At least I thought no one knew.

“He’s not the only one.” She winks and walks through the door. “But you knew that.”

Gods, she must think I’m a whore.

“Well don’t you look…dangerous tonight,” a voice drawls. I look back and see Luke, looking so handsome it hurts.

It’s the first time we’ve seen one another since we formed an alliance—a truce, really. That was before Roland announced himself as headmaster. Luke is Lucifer’s son—a Nephilim. He’d tried to force himself on me, and I don’t trust him.

“If you touch me, I’ll pull off your fingers, one by one.”

He has the nerve to look taken back. “I promise, from now on, I’ll only touch you if you ask for it.”

“Trust me, that’s not going to happen.” First, he’s a kid. Second, he’s an opportunistic asshole. His ideal conquest is Marielle, princess to the Vampire realm. He wants to merge their power and, well, their other parts.

Too bad she isn’t interested.