Claimed by Cammie Eicher Page B

it for the next two hours. Library, grocery store, a stop at the no-appointment beauty salon to have her hair trimmed and her eyebrows waxed.
    Back home, Caroline fixed herself a ham sandwich for lunch, refilled Beggar’s food dish and headed across town to do her weekly penance, an afternoon volunteering at the veterans’ hospital. Home again to chores spaced out to fill the hours between dinner and bedtime, augmented by a television show or two to keep her mind filled with make-believe.
    There were still too many empty minutes left for worry to creep in. Worry that she’d been wrong to make the call, worry that she’d done the right thing. She’d learned at a devastating cost that sometimes, nothing you did made a difference.
    * * * *
    Rhori longed for the world he once knew, where he was a man among men, a warrior dedicated to his god Odin. The longer he spent on this plane, the deeper grew the sorrow in his heart. Unable to walk as a man, he stretched his wings and soared above the dirty city, seeking the woman warrior Chiana. He’d found her once; he could do so again.
    That experience had taught him much. She surrounded herself with other warriors, men who felt their blood sing for battle as he did. She had learned to hide herself within the limitations of this world, tamping down her heritage.
    He was stronger now. He was learning more of this world’s ways.
    Valhalla awaited.
    Sweeping down low, he searched for the energy of the man who had been with Odin’s chosen when he first found her. Maintaining human form wearied his spirit. Inhabiting a creature such as that one would allow him to pursue her in a way she would never expect. She would welcome this warrior.
    When he saw the shiny building with the lights of many colors, Rhori knew the man was near. This was where he first saw her, walking into the building with the man he sought. This was where he’d tried to take her before he knew how heavy this world was for him, what the challenge was that Odin put before him.
    Patience was a warrior’s weapon as much as his sword or his arrow. Rhori was prepared to wait as long it took for the man to come back. He flew in narrowing circles until he spotted a metal pipe coming from the top of the building and felt the warmth emanating from it.
    Here he would watch.
    Here he would wait.
    For as long as it might take.
    * * * *
    Mick rolled over and cursed at the alarm clock beside his bed. Six-frigging-thirty a.m. He should be sound asleep, enjoying his first Saturday off for weeks. Would be, if that weird shit at the diner hadn’t gone down.
    He swung his legs over the side of the bed, sat up and buried his face in his hands.
    What the hell was he going to do?
    He’d tried the tracker and got nothing. Nada. Zip. The device should have given him a steady blinking yellow that he could follow when the Mustang was in motion, a blink that would turn green when he got within five miles.
    The thing had a radius of two hundred and fifty miles. No way could she have gotten that far away. Which meant Davies had taken her away. Her beloved Mustang, the only thing she truly valued in life, must still be sitting by that piece-of-crap church he’d found her in.
    He sat up and blew out a breath. In thirty-six hours, their time off would be over and the agency would expect them back on the job. And Harrington, the bastard, would know if he reported in for duty and she didn’t.
    Easy money. That’s all he’d seen when he made a bargain with that devil. Money he could stockpile until he had enough to tell the agency to go to hell. Money he could use to buy a house in the best neighborhood and establish himself as something other than a came-from-nothing kid who wound up hunting down beasties most people dismissed as a fairy tale.
    His game plan meant his friends were few and his relationships casual. The women he chose were easy to walk away from. They met a need, the same way that a good steak satisfied his hunger when he was