Claimed by Cammie Eicher

is it?” Creed asked.
    Lillian nodded. “Keep the bag hidden on you; don’t let Chiana know you have it. Use its contents wisely, please, only in desperation.”
    Creed studied the bag, cocked his head and asked, “Any permanent side effects?”
    Lillian shrugged and smiled. Her response was less than reassuring he decided as he slipped the bag into his pocket beside the syringe case then picked up the stack of esoteric books Lillian insisted he take for reference.
    Their goodbyes were quick. Heading back down the gravel road, Creed ran through his conversation with Lillian. She’d verified what he believed, that it was possible to keep Chiana here. Possible didn’t mean easy, though.
    “Now what?” Chiana asked from the passenger seat. “Do we drive around in circles until we get dive-bombed by a raven from loony land?”
    “Wish I knew,” Creed said. “We’re talking a dimension I know diddly-squat about, and I’ve been doing this longer than you have. Lillian suggests we go where we can draw on natural magnetic strength, hoping that the magnetism will play havoc with time and space.”
    “And that would be?”
    “Southeastern Ohio. A chain of caves to be exact.”
    The incredulous look on Chiana’s face matched his own doubts. How prowling around underground was going to keep Odin’s man from finding them, he wasn’t sure. He did know Lillian was a hell of a lot smarter than he was, and he couldn’t come up with anything better.
    “Before we take a tour of stalagmites, or whatever those pointy things are called, can we eat? Not that the cookies weren’t wonderful, but I need a steak. Or two.”
    Creed glanced at the dash clock.
    “We ate a couple of hours ago,” he said. “I don’t feel comfortable being out in the open.”
    “Yeah, well, that stuff you just stuck in me does something to my metabolism. Feed me again or regret it, that’s all I’m saying.”
    Creed weighed the options. His gut instinct was to haul ass and damn the consequences. Trouble was the consequences might be more than he could handle going eighty miles an hour. Besides, a run-through at a burger place wouldn’t slow them down much.
    As if she’d read his mind, Chiana said, “I want a sit-down place, where they’ll refill my glass a dozen times and food comes on real plates.”
    “We’re in a hurry.”
    “For what? Sounds to me like your plan is to hunker down underground and hope nothing happens.”
    Although Creed longed to contradict her, that was pretty much as far as he’d gotten. His experience with Norse gods was limited to what he’d learned in his high school literature class and his agency training. Neither one taught how to protect a Valkyrie half-breed from being hauled to another plane of existence.
    Lillian’s books might help, if he could find time to read them.
    “So what’s the verdict here?” Impatience colored Chiana’s voice. “You gonna find a nice steakhouse, or do I have to salt and pepper your biceps and start chomping?”
    Creed rolled his eyes.
    “Only if you agree to some ground rules.”
    Chiana held her wrists toward him.
    “Cuff me and drag me in. Chain me to the chair. Whatever it takes to get a fat T-bone in front of me.”
    Creed wasn’t sure whether her good mood was the real Chiana or an effect of the shot she’d had. One thing he did know was that if the switch turned on and she became a raging warrior or a seductress, he wanted to be able to control the situation. Assuring her they’d stop as soon as he found the right place, he upped the truck’s speed and headed for the interstate.
    He slowed as they passed through a small town about a mile from I-77. Spotting a flash of neon, he turned right into the three-block downtown. As he suspected, the neon sign belonged to a bar and grill, whose parking lot was half-full. He pulled in beside a Jeep and a pick-up with more rust than paint.
    Creed got out and walked around the truck to open Chiana’s door. She was already