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bloody. Scratch and bite marks peppered his chest and neck.  God, Frey, I whispered.  Oh,
God.
His lips were a pale line. He closed his eyes, sucking in breath.
 What can I do to help? I touched his cheek.
 You are unharmed?
 Yeah, you took the brunt of it.
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He nodded, as if that was fitting.
 Stupid bastard.
His eyes shot open.  I am not a bastard.
 Uh, right. Sorry, I didn t mean it literally. He was prickly over all kinds of weird shit
that was meaningless in today s world. Probably it was just as well he wasn t staying. He d
be the Mork to my Mindy at any campus party I brought him to.
 We cannot&  I helped him get to his feet and he swayed.  Be sure she has left this
place.
 Right. I helped him lean against the wall. He gripped his sword, his gaze on the
stairs.  I m going to turn the water off. And then& I guess we better, like, investigate. Try to
find out what went down between Professor Dunbar being fine and dandy and turning red-
eyed cannibal.
 It is a plan.
I kissed his shoulder and his eyes widened.  Why did you do that? he asked.
 No reason, I mumbled, heading off to the bathroom. I shut off the taps in the sink,
grimacing at the icy water. There were a few pink splotches, still looking like dye residue.
When I didn t immediately return, Frey appeared in the bathroom door.
 What happened to her, Frey? She s a monster.
 She was infected, Frey said.  She is a pawn of the Whisperer now. It reaches for the
buried darkness inside, twists it with fear.
The miasma of a spiritual car wreck clung to the little room.
 Can we get her back?
 I have never succeeded. He reached out, pushed the hair out of my eyes.  But for
you, we can try, Bailey.
 I like it when you call me by my name, I said.  Not just guide. I felt like a boat that
had been safely moored, but now I was cast adrift, rocking away from all signs of home.  She
was going to tell me how to fix this. She knew stuff.
 Her knowledge remains stored in this house?
I nodded.  Yeah. Maybe we can get some ideas off her computer. Wait! I left the
bathroom, feeling a spurt of energy despite the bruises and the heavy feeling in my heart.
 She took the Celtic symbol I made. She said it had to be neutralised or something. Do you
think that s why she s infected?
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A VIKING IN MY BED Jan Irving
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 I don t sense the door here, not like when I came through it to your bedroom, Frey
said.  And if she knew what it was, she would have taken steps to shield herself.
I looked out the window at a little garden pavillion on the rocks.
 Maybe she put it there, close at hand but not close enough to pose a danger to her.
Why do we need it, anyway?
 It is the way we send the creatures not of this world back to the void, Frey said.  And
also, it is the door that will take me back to where I sleep.
 Oh. And suddenly I hoped we wouldn t find it.
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A VIKING IN MY BED Jan Irving
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Chapter Eight
 Oddly, I don t feel like goin out there right at the moment. As I watched from the
window, fog swirled in from the sea, covering the little garden pavillion so it became as
elusive as the island of Avalon.
 The mist is unnatural. The creature waits for us, Frey said.
When he put his arm around me, I was conscious of how cold my feet were, how tired I
felt. All this shit had happened in such a short span of time. One day I d worried about when
I d get time to wash my accumulated dirty socks and cram for finals, the next&
 You are weary, guide.
 I m not the one who s hurt. I pointed out.
He raised one eyebrow.
 Wait! I swung around in his arms, touching his face, his upper chest.  That scratch
that ran over your neck. The bite mark& 
 Gone, yes, he said.  It is another small talent, the healing, but like the other I will not
be able to manifest it for a day and a night. His eyelids fell heavy over his blue eyes.  And I
need a brief time to recover my energy.
I felt abruptly protective. Frey was still a mystery to me with his hidden talents married
with his vulnerability. He was also slumped against his sword. My Viking was about ready
to keel over.
 You need your long boat in a hurry.
He blinked.  Oh. This is humour?
 Apparently not. There s a couch in the prof s home office, I said.  Let s secure the
house and then you can rest there while I check through her notes, see if I can find something
to help us.
Frey s face was like whitened bone under moonlight. Sweat sheened his forehead. He
nodded and slumped at the top of the stairs as I went down and locked the front door,
checked the back. I put down some towels in the kitchen, mopped up. I brought more up
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A VIKING IN MY BED Jan Irving
57
with me to the bathroom upstairs and took off my socks and shoes, leaving them to dry out
while I cleaned up the bathroom.
 If we reconstruct from the hot pan in the kitchen and the still-steaming coffee in her
office, she was cooking dinner and having coffee up here while she went through her notes.
She d probably just got off the phone with me when the, uh, Whisperer came calling.
Frey was on the couch now, arms around his knees. He d stripped out of this clothing
again, his beautiful body muscled and distracting with all those yards of silky skin. I wanted
to kiss the tiny wisp of white blond hair between his nipples. He nodded, eyes almost closed
as he watched me. He looked as if I d worn him out after a bout of vigorous lovemaking, and
how weird, that I d use that word in my head.  Lovemaking . It wasn t something I had any
experience of, except in the books I read.
 I guess the healing thing really drains you, huh?
Frey nodded.  It could have been worse, but the poisoned blood touched my skin.
Touched his skin, because he d made damn sure it hadn t touched mine.
 Thanks, I said.
 I need no thanks. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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