A Viking Holiday: The MacLomain Series: Viking Ancestors' Kin Page 3

  “Never were truer words said,” she agreed as they headed downstairs. They were nearly to the bottom when she stopped him and whispered in his ear. “See who Svala really is, Sean. Don’t let her push you away.”

  By the time his eyes went to Megan, she was already looking elsewhere and saying hello to their guests. What did she mean by that? Because it sounded like she wanted him to pursue her daughter. And that just wasn’t going to happen. Not unless he completely lost his mind.

  He conveniently set aside how he felt when she had been so sweet to Julie. How for a flicker of a moment he could see her as someone capable of normalcy. Capable of being respectful. How for just a second he had looked at her through the falling snow in his too-big jacket and had the overwhelming urge to kiss her.

  It had been a fraction of a moment, but it was real.

  Then, just as he figured she would, Svala ruined it with everything she did afterwards.

  “Is it not wonderful, Uncle Sean?” Emily said, gleeful as she spun in her shiny dress. She gestured at everything from the Christmas tree lit with blues, silvers and golds to the winter wonderland of decorations she, Mema Angie and Shannon had decorated the place with. A fire crackled and snow fell lazily beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.

  “It looks amazing, Emily.” Sean smiled. “Great job, kid.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Julie said as she joined him. The place was pretty full so he wasn’t all that surprised she was already here. When Emily and Mema Angie decided to throw a party, they did it right.

  “You look nice, Julie,” he said as he scanned the room looking for Svala. She better be staying out of trouble.

  “Thanks,” she murmured. “So do you, Sean.” Julie leaned closer. “Really good.”

  “Thanks,” he started before a throaty peel of laughter caught his attention. He glanced toward the kitchen once, twice before a man shifted. His gaze honed in on who he was speaking with. Him and two other guys.

  Svala.

  But not any version of her he’d seen before.

  Dressed in a snug, blue sweater that accentuated both her cleavage and eyes perfectly, she wore skinny jeans made for pure sin, and tall, high-heeled boots. Her curly hair wasn’t wild but tamed, even smooth. She looked unbelievable. So twenty-first century beautiful, men were clustering closer and closer, eager for her smile or whatever else she was offering.

  And he didn’t like it one damn bit.

  “Sean, are you okay?” Julie started, but he was already heading Svala’s way.

  “Hey, man,” one guy grumbled as Sean shoved past him to get to the refrigerator. That conveniently pushed at least one man away from her.

  “You okay, Sean?”

  Hell. The man he had shoved past was one of his crew. “Hey, Frank, sorry about that.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “Guess I was just thirsty.”

  “Yeah, no shit.” Frank nodded toward Svala. “Aren’t we all, looking at her, eh? I’d like to…”

  Frank didn’t finish his sentence before Sean tagged him. The crowd hushed as Frank staggered back against the counter and held his cheek. “What the fuck?”

  “Shit.” Sean ran a hand over his face then gripped Frank’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. You okay?”

  His friend squinted at him, confused, just like everybody else. “I dunno. Are you?”

  “Oh my goodness. Here.” Svala pressed a bag of frozen peas to Frank’s cheek and waved at the crowd. “I think everything’s okay. Just a misunderstanding.” Her eyes met Sean’s. “Right? Just a misunderstanding?”

  Had she really just said, “Oh my goodness?” and, “Just a misunderstanding?”

  Svala?

  Sean stared at her for a long, baffled moment before he jerked his head yes. “Yeah, just a misunderstanding.” He pulled his gaze from hers and managed a weak smile for the crowd. “Please, party on…Merry Christmas.”

  Everyone eyed him for another moment before the music grew louder and people resumed celebrating.

  “Are you okay, Frank?” Svala murmured as a ring of men waited patiently for her attention again.

  Frank managed a weak nod and acted it up as he snaked an arm around her. “So long as you stick close, gorgeous.”

  Sean didn’t blame his friend. He would do the same he supposed. Maybe. If he knew nothing about Svala and what she was capable of. But he did. So he needed to make sure none of his friends or crew ended up beneath her spell. Which meant doing something he disliked above all else.

  Dancing.

  “Sorry, boys,” he declared as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her after him. “She owes me a dance.”

  “Do I then?” she murmured but followed him without hassle. By the time he had her in his arms on the living-room-turned-dance-floor, she was alarmingly compliant.

  “I do not think I have ever seen you dance,” she whispered next to his ear as she stood on her tip toes and pressed close. “It feels good, yes?”

  “What are you up to, Svala?” he said, trying his best to ignore the feel of her. “Don’t cause trouble for your mother. And think about Emily. She doesn’t need to see things get out of control tonight.”

  His breathing switched as she ran her hand along the side of his neck, dropped a chaste kiss on the opposite side of his neck then again whispered close to his ear, “I do not think it is me you need to worry about, Sean.” She nipped his earlobe. “Were you not the one who just attacked somebody?”

  “I didn’t,” he started but couldn’t seem to get the rest of his words out as she pressed even closer, fueling his untimely arousal.

  “Didn’t what?” she murmured, well aware of his erection.

  He was having trouble thinking straight. “Don’t do this,” was all he could manage as he gripped her hips and lowered his head until he could inhale the scent of her hair. It smelled sweet, fresh, like the sea at dawn. Like the ocean before anyone sailed her. Untouched. Beautiful.

  Svala stilled in a way he knew she never had. As though sensing a man’s closeness for the first time. Not just in the physical sense but something more.

  “I do not want you as my mate,” she whispered before she trailed her lips up his neck.

  “I don’t want you either,” he assured as he wrapped an arm around her back and locked her in place. “I never did.”

  But he had. Since the moment he saw her. And he didn’t want to. She was too young, too angry, too everything…including beautiful.

  “I will be gone soon,” she murmured, working her lips closer and closer to his mouth. “Then we will not have to worry about not wanting each other, no?”

  “No,” he whispered as their eyes held. Who was he kidding? He wanted her gone but not yet. She might be nothing but trouble but he wanted this moment too much. Right here. Right now. Just a sample to get it out of his system. Just a small taste of her. So he cupped her cheeks and was about to close his lips over hers when someone bumped him, and he pulled back.

  “Oh, no,” Julie exclaimed, her eyes wide. “Sorry about that. I was just trying to get by…”

  Her last word was garbled as Svala drove her back against the wall and held a dagger to her throat. “I have had enough of your interruptions, woman.”

  Have a Holly Jolly Christmas came to a screeching halt as the women eyed one another.

  “As have I!” Emily declared, holding a candy cane turned sword to Julie’s leg. “Surrender or face death!”

  Everyone’s eyes widened moments before all hell broke loose.

  Shannon flew forward to scoop up her daughter as Frank took it upon himself to defend Svala’s honor. That apparently meant punching Sean. No doubt, an excuse to pay him back for earlier.

  “Loki’s balls, stay away from my mate,” Svala roared as she whipped another dagger that pinned Frank’s sleeve against the wall.

  “Down with you fool,” Emily cried, ducking under her mother’s arm to deal a few well-aimed candy cane jabs at Frank.

  Unfortunately, those jabs made him nearly str
ike back.

  Which brought every woman nearby down on him.

  One threw a drink in his face while another stomped on his foot.

  Sean couldn’t keep up with everything as the room broke out in a series of chaotic, almost comical events that stemmed back to one person.

  Svala.

  Despite her twenty-first century outfit, she had been carrying an alarming number of blades and was now using them at will. In mere minutes—because he nearly made the mistake of kissing her—the Winter Harbor home had been turned into a battlefield minus the blood and gore.

  He needed help. Now. And there was only one man who always seemed to have a hand in making sure things went smoothly between modern day people and ancient Scandinavians. So he made a mental wish that he’d show up and save the day.

  And he didn’t have to wait long.

  “Well, this is unexpected,” came a deep, burred voice from the door.

  As though cast beneath a spell—because they most likely were—everyone calmed and glanced his way.

  Sean breathed a sigh of relief as he met the man’s eyes at the door. “It’s good to see you, Grant MacLomain.”

  “Ye as well, laddie.” He grinned at everyone. “But please, call me Grant Hamilton.”

  Chapter Four

  SVALA KEPT HER arms crossed over her chest and eyed Julie moodily from across the room. She should have ended the woman. If not for Grant Hamilton, she might have.

  He and his magic had put a quick end to a good time.

  Her eyes slid to the tall Scotsman. Grant was currently archwizard of the MacLomain, Hamilton and MacLeod clans in medieval Scotland. As her brethren had for him and his, he had helped her kin several times over the years. Why he was here now was beyond her. It seemed like an odd time to reunite with Megan and, apparently, Sean.

  Svala had once considered Grant an uncle before he betrayed her and sided with her parents about the raid. Since then, she kept her distance whenever he visited.

  “Svala,” Megan called out and gestured for her to join them.

  Absolutely not.

  “Come along then, dear,” Mema Angie said as she linked arms with Svala and gave her no choice. For an older woman, she was surprisingly strong.

  Men who no less than an hour before had lusted after Svala now kept a wary eye on her. Good. She had only wanted them close to serve one purpose.

  “You have not been teaching me well these past few days,” Svala said under her breath to Angie. “I am not winning over my mate.”

  “You were until you put a blade to Julie’s neck,” Angie reminded. “You will not win him over with violence, dragon.”

  “He should be trying to win me over,” Svala spat. “Not the other way around.”

  “It is clear you need to rethink many things, darling,” Angie said. “And that you might need more help than I can offer.”

  What did she mean by that? If she could better understand Mema Angie’s magic, she might have a clearer picture. Because there was no doubt that the woman possessed some sort of magic.

  By the time they joined the others, Grant had Emily on his hip and the child bubbled with laughter. She could admit that was a good thing. Not to say Emily hadn’t enjoyed the fighting. She had seemed quite pleased by it. As far as Svala was concerned, she had the demeanor of a Viking and admirable possibilities if raised around the right people…and dragons. Yet right now, in this mess of a crowd, laughing seemed to better suit the child.

  “’Tis good to see you again, lassie.” Grant grinned at Svala. “I see you’ve kept things exciting in these parts, aye?”

  Svala twisted her lips and shrugged.

  Grant set Emily down and urged her to go see who was knocking at the door. Seconds later, she was full of laughter again as Santa arrived. Svala narrowed her eyes. Was that Sheila dressed up as Santa? Sheila had been from modern day New Hampshire and traveled back in time to fall in love with Grant.

  Grant chuckled and confirmed Svala’s suspicions when he said, “Me and my Sheila do enjoy a good holiday party.”

  “Come sit with me, Daughter.” Megan patted the couch next to her. “So that we can visit with old friends.”

  Svala shook her head and eyed Sean. He, in turn, shot her a disappointed look. Angie nudged her. “I think it would do the whole room good to see you sit down and perhaps tuck those daggers somewhere less visible.”

  “Aye, ‘tis a bloody odd thing to see at a Christmas party,” Grant agreed, amused.

  “I do not celebrate Christmas or wish to impress a Christian god,” Svala ground out. “So I am not concerned about my daggers.”

  “Go put away the damn weapons, Svala,” Sean growled.

  Her eyes widened at his gumption but before she could respond her mother said, “I agree. Go put them away.”

  Surprised, her eyes went to Megan. Her mother hadn’t spoken sharply to her since before she found out she was sick. Why now? Her eyes narrowed on Grant. He was the only thing that had changed around here.

  When Megan stood, shaky, Sean tried to take her arm, but she shook her head. “No, I’m okay. Thanks.” She brushed by Svala. “Come with me, Daughter. I need to speak with you.”

  She was about to say no, but her mother bit out, “Now,” and headed upstairs.

  Taken aback, Svala watched her. It had been too long since her mother acted like the queen she once was. Since she had spoken with authority and allowed no room for argument. Relieved to see it, Svala followed. The second she entered Megan’s bedroom, her mother slammed the door shut and eyed her with disappointment.

  “I have been too soft on you for far too long, Svala.” She shook her head. “And I will not be any longer.” Before she could say a word, her mother continued. “First, I allowed your attitude about the raid to continue because we were all grieving. Then I became sick and was saddened by what you would be facing. I felt guilty because I could not be stronger for you.” Her expression darkened. “So many times I should have put my foot down both as your Queen and your mother but I didn’t. That ends now.”

  Svala said nothing and frowned as Megan kept talking.

  “When you came here with me I thought perhaps you were letting go of your anger. That you wanted to get back the closeness we once shared.” She inhaled deeply and shook her head again. “But obviously not. Or at least if you did you didn’t know how to express it. And that’s likely my fault because I allowed this attitude of yours to go on for too long.”

  Megan’s expression only grew more troubled. “You’re almost twenty-three years old and are still behaving like a child. Like a spoiled brat who thinks the world owes her and not the other way around.” Her eyes narrowed. “You are the infamous Viking King’s daughter, yet you do not honor his name with your actions. Or my name for that matter. Especially with how you behaved tonight.”

  Indignant, Svala said, “I behaved—”

  “I don’t want to hear it.” Megan opened the door and nudged her out. “Go to sleep, Svala. Nowhere but to sleep or so help me I’ll battle you with a dagger myself. Grant will be taking you home in the morning. No more twenty-first century for you. It’s time to give everyone some peace. Especially Sean!”

  “But,” she started before the door slammed shut in her face.

  Hel. While she'd appreciated her mother’s aggression at first, that seemed a little harsh. Every action she had made was to honor her father’s name. From wanting to go on that raid to pushing her mother to seek treatment. And most certainly her behavior here while protecting Megan.

  Though confused and defiant, Svala didn’t head downstairs but instead, plodded to her bedroom. While she may have tested her mother more often than not lately, she would never defy or challenge Megan when her inner warrior surfaced. It simply went against her grain not only as a dragon but as the former Viking Queen’s daughter.

  So though she kept a dragon ear to what was happening below stairs, she plunked down on her bed, set aside her daggers and tried not to imagine Juli
e and Sean together. Instead, she found contentment in envisioning what she might have done to the woman had Grant not arrived.

  Grant. Here to take her home. Svala scowled at the thought. She might not like it here but who would protect her mother if not her? And what would Sean do without his mate? The more she thought about it, the more absurd it sounded.

  They needed her.

  “Aye, if you’re set to go fishing, then you best get out before the next storm, Sean,” Grant said. “’Twould not be good to be out on the water with what’s coming.”

  Svala perked up at Grant’s words. She filtered out all the other voices and focused on their conversation.

  “Yeah, I’ll be heading out early,” Sean agreed.

  “Will you say goodbye to Svala first?”

  Svala frowned as Sean hesitated then finally said, “Probably not a good idea.” Another pregnant pause. “I’m surprised you’re not leaving with her now.”

  “Och, nay,” Grant said. “’Tis fun for us to spend some time in Sheila’s century and enjoy a good holiday party.”

  “At least now it’s good,” Sean mumbled. “Svala’s difficult to be around.”

  Svala was surprised when she felt not anger but sadness. Surely he didn’t mean that entirely…did he? The man had nearly kissed her.

  “She can be difficult,” Grant conceded. “But it wasnae always that way.”

  Sean responded, but it was garbled. She narrowed her eyes. Loki’s cock, someone was interfering with her ability to hear them. Scottish magic if she didn’t know better. Well, that was just fine because she had a plan. And it had nothing to do with being dragged home by a Scottish wizard.

  Now she just had to wait it out.

  The next few hours dragged by. She could still hear people talking. Even Sean and Julie on occasion. Svala growled and paced as they laughed and chatted. As Julie clearly acted in a way Sean enjoyed. Did he really like a woman who simpered like that? Who gave him no battle? No fire?

  Though tempted, Svala never went downstairs. She didn’t defy her mother.

  At least not yet.