“It is. I like the Warhammer too. The flavor’s a lot more layered than the beer I usually drink. It’s good.”
She smiled. “I’m glad.”
They settled into a comfortable silence, enjoying the moment despite having not yet discussed the evening’s earlier event.
Then one of her feet brushed his leg, sending a current of sensation through him that had nothing to do with the bubbles or the water or the heat. It made him think about those electric blue toenails. It made him want to kiss her. Even so, he ignored it and held still. She hadn’t meant to do that, he was pretty sure.
To keep himself from drifting into the clutches of the love spell, he went right to the thing most likely to kill that mood. The elephant in the room. “That dark, shadowy thing in the woods? I’ve seen it before.”
She stopped staring at the sky to look at him, new tension bracketing her mouth. “You have?”
The skepticism in her voice was interesting. Why would she doubt him? “Yes. At the house. In the attic.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s what you saw?”
He nodded. “After the bomb went off. When we were lying on the attic floor. You were already passed out. It came for you. Out of the shadows. Reached for you like it did in the woods.”
Fear entered her gaze. She sat up taller, causing the water to slosh. “Why are you only telling me about this now?”
“I thought it was a hallucination. And I did sort of bring it up. I asked you if you’d seen anything when we were in the attic. You said no.”
She frowned. “I didn’t. But I certainly didn’t think you meant a wraith.”
He frowned back. “A wraith? You’ve seen one before?”
She sighed, took a long, long drink from her beer, then looked at him. “I have.”
He took a pull off his bottle, set it back on the edge, and waited for her to elaborate.
After quite a few seconds, she spoke again. “They’re dangerous creatures with a lot to lose. They’re a little on the slow side, but they fight hard.”
“What is a wraith, exactly? How do you know so much about them?”
“A wraith in my world is the trapped soul of an undesirable who died but refused to be transported to their final resting place.”
“Undesirable?”
“In every sense of the word. There’s a reason they don’t want to go to that final resting place, if you get my drift.”
“I do. But what do you mean ‘refused to be transported’? Isn’t transporting souls kind of what valkyries do?”
She nodded. “That’s why I know so much about them. When I was in service, I was part of a task force assigned to hunting down wraiths and delivering them to where they belong. Didn’t happen all the time, but when one showed up, we were called in. We went in teams of two. A valkyrie and a seer. That’s what it took to eliminate one. Not a single wraith ever wanted to go either.”
“I can imagine. If they knew they were headed where I think they were.”
“They were. And they knew.” She picked up her bottle, holding it just above the surface of the bubbling water. “Battlefields are a prime breeding ground for them. Men who took advantage of whatever war they were in the middle of to further their own ends. Men who deserved death for one reason or another, but were too stubborn or too awful or too evil to allow death to take them. Men who considered war a game. A way to release their already murderous natures.” She grimaced. “We hunted them down, captured them, and disposed of their black souls.”
His lip curled in disgust. “That sounds like a terrible job.”
She took another drink and put her bottle down. “Valkyries in service don’t spend their time hosting tea parties and attending fashion shows. We work amongst the dead and dying. It wasn’t the worst assignment I’ve ever had.” She dipped down until her chin was half in the water. “But yes, some jobs are worse than others.”
“How do you not have PTSD?”
She looked up through her lashes at him. “Who says I don’t?” She went back to staring at the water. “I have nightmares sometimes. But for the most part, we’re built to handle the things we see. And we generally do handle it.”
“But seeing that wraith set something off in you.”
She nodded. “Like I said, they’re dangerous. They can’t be killed because they’re already dead. Also, a blade goes right through them without doing any damage. It’s like trying to stab smoke. At least in the early stages.”
He sat up. “So how do you kill a thing that’s already dead and can’t be hurt?”
“Two ways. One, you bring along a seer who knows the right incantation to hold the wraith in place and make it solid, or you wait for it to get strong enough that it becomes solid again on its own. That method generally leaves you with a much bigger threat that you do not want to go up against.”
“Well, how long before it goes from a little threat to a great big one?”
“Not sure. It’s different with every one.”
“Why was it reaching for you? What does it want from you?”
“It’s complicated.” She was quiet a moment.
“Why? What else aren’t you telling me?”
Her silence lasted awhile longer. “Sometimes valkyries create the wraiths. It’s not intentional, but on the battlefield, things happen. Hard choices are made. Sometimes, the soul becomes a wraith before we can transport it to its final end.”
That seemed a heavy burden to bear. “Do you think this is one of those? One that’s come after you?”
Her gaze turned sharp. “What makes you say that?”
“You brought it up.” He shrugged. Was that anger in her eyes? Or fear? The latter was such an unlikely emotion from her, and yet the topic seemed to bring it
