Malicious: A Nomad Biker Novel (Raiders of Valhalla MC Book 1) Read online

  Malicious

  Raiders of Valhalla Book 1

  E.C. Land

  Elizabeth Knox

  Contents

  Warning

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Sinister

  Also By Elizabeth Knox

  Do you like Paranormal Romance?

  Also By E.C. Land

  Raiders of Valhalla

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to persons, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

  Raiders of Valhalla. Copyright © 2021 by Elizabeth Knox & E.C. Land. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the authors, except in the case of brief quotations used in articles or reviews. For information, contact Elizabeth Knox or E.C. Land.

  Cover Design by Clarise Tan, CT Cover Creations

  Photographer: Golden Czermak

  Models: Heath and Ravyn Roberts

  Editing by Jackie Ziegler, Knox Publishing

  Formatting by E.C. Land, Knox Publishing

  Proofreading by Kim Lubbers, Knox Publishing

  Created with Vellum

  Trigger Warning

  This content is intended for mature audiences only. It contains material that may be viewed as offensive to some readers, including graphic language, dangerous and sexual situations, murder, rape, and extreme violence.

  Prologue

  Fenrir

  The buzzing of my cell on the nightstand wakes me from a dead sleep. I’d only just gotten to sleep a bit ago after getting to the Inferno’s Clutch MC’s clubhouse out in Arizona. Marker, the Prez of this charter, had called our club in for assistance with a job.

  Runes, who’s also the Prez of our club, and I along with the rest of our men did what we do best as Nomads. Being a Raider of Valhalla, we’re ruthless and don’t give a fuck who gets in our way, whereas Marker and his club have to do things a certain way. They’re not a clean club by any means but it doesn’t mean they’re like us.

  Stretching a hand out toward the nightstand, I reach for my phone. No one ever calls me this late unless it’s my ex, Amanda. She’s got our three kids down in Florida and the time difference is killer. I wish she’d held off a few hours to call me. With it being the middle of the night, I know something’s got to be wrong. I just don’t know what.

  Amanda and I got together years ago, she’d been a wild child. I was taken with her instantly. Only when she’d had our first son, Emil, she decided she couldn’t be on the road constantly living the life with me as a Nomad. Understanding her yet not wanting to give up what we had, I’d put her in the house I’d gotten from my dad. It’s the same place that I grew up in and Amanda loved it.

  We tried to make a go of it still but I wasn’t around enough for her, so we’d ended us on a good note. By the time we’d decided this, we’d also had our second son, Oskar, and she wanted to be able to find someone who could be there for her all the time. That person couldn’t be me and she knew it.

  Still, every time I’m back that way and visiting with them, I end up in her bed. It’s because of this that on one of my visits, we’d conceived our daughter, Astrid. I hate being away from my kids but it’s in my blood to be on the road. I’m not a person who can stay in one place for long periods of time.

  Never have been. My dad says it’s because we’re descendants from Viking lineage that I can’t stay still. I’m not sure if it’s true, but I’ll go with it.

  Leaning up on my elbow, I roll to my side to look at the name on the screen to confirm it’s Amanda calling me only to find it’s her sister, Ashley, instead.

  Frowning, I swipe a finger across the screen to answer. Ashley doesn’t ever call me. The woman lives in London working some fancy ass job she’d gotten years ago.

  “What the hell time is it there for you to be callin’ me?” I mutter, knowing it’s morning where she’s at.

  “Soren,” Ashley whispers, and I immediately go into an alert state of mind. She’s one of only two people who have ever been allowed to call me anything other than my road name. But the way she says it now tells me everything isn’t okay. Something’s happened, and I have no doubts about it anymore.

  “What’s going on, Ash?” I demand, my gut tightening as I sit up on the bed ready to pounce when needed.

  “Soren, she’s gone,” Ashley cries through the line.

  “Explain. What do you mean she’s gone. Who?” Heart racing, I don’t want her to say who it is. Not really because I already know who she’s speaking about.

  “Amanda. She died in a car accident. The police just got ahold of me because they couldn’t find a number for you,” Ashley says and goes on to explain what the police told her about the accident.

  Fuck.

  “Where are my kids?” I ask gravelly. My mind paces through all the information she’s given me and she hadn’t mentioned my kids being in the car with her. Some asshole truck driver jack-knifed on the road due to not paying attention to what he’d been doing and killed her on impact.

  “They’re at the house with the neighbor. I’ve informed the police and gave DCF permission to let them stay in their home with a friend of the family until you can get there, Soren. I’m sorry and I hate to sound like a bitch, but there’s no way I can get to them quick enough. And with my schedule, the way it is right now, I’ll be lucky to get to the funeral to say my goodbyes,” Ashley murmurs.

  I get what she’s saying. Her life has always been on the fast track, taking life by the balls, working her ass off to become who she is in an evolving world, finally coming out of the good ol’ boys club.

  “Call the neighbor and whoever else. Let them know I’ll be heading that way and will be there as soon as I can. I’m in Arizona right now. It might take me a few hours or maybe even a day to get there,” I mutter, already out of bed and pulling on a pair of jeans.

  “Okay, Soren, I’m so sorry,” Ashley says.

  “Just do as I ask. I’ll talk to you later,” I grumble and hang up.

  After getting dressed, I head out of the room I’d been staying in for the night. Since we’d gotten in late, I left all my shit in my saddlebags and came in to crash.

  Finding which room Runes is in, I beat on the door until he throws it open.

  “What the fuck, VP?” he snaps as he gets a good look at my face.

  “Need to get home. Amanda’s dead,” is all I can manage to say.

  Speaking those words out loud is like a branding iron searing my throat as it hits me. The mother of my children, the woman I once loved with all my heart, is gone. We might have drifted apart but that doesn’t mean we didn’t still care for each other. She’d been there for me as I’d been there for her.

  Fuck.

  And now, I’m all my kids have left in this world besides an aunt who lives in a completely different country.

  I have to beat back the emotions as I face my Prez.

  He, as well
as all of our brothers, knew Amanda and loved her like a little sister. Every time we’d get to Tallahassee, she’d make a big deal about throwing a BBQ together for all of us to share.

  With her gone, they’ll feel the agonizing pain right along with me.

  “Then let’s get you home,” Runes grinds out as he punches his fist through the drywall.

  “Yeah, my kids are gonna need me for a while,” I rasp, meaning my life is about to change in one hell of a way.

  “I get it, VP. We’ll talk about it later. For now, you need to get to them. Get ready, and I’m gonna go find Marker, see if he’s able to get you there quicker,” Runes says, understanding what I’m speaking of.

  Nodding, I head out to my bike to get my shit that I’ll need for the time being. My brothers will do the rest for me while I take care of the rest.

  Chapter One

  Charm

  I stand where I am in the archway to the kitchen and stare at this place in awe. It’s all mine, and it’s still so hard for me to believe it is. This was my dream, to grow up one day and inherit this place . . . but while I knew I wanted it, as a child I never realized what inheriting something meant.

  Now at twenty-seven, I know all too well. It means loss, it means someone’s soul has moved on from this plane. It means they’re not here in their physical body, but their memories and soul will transcend. As a woman who practices reiki, I think I have a pretty good relationship with death, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t difficult not having my grandmother here with me.

  She was my best friend, the only person in my family who understood my eccentric side. I was the black sheep in my family to everyone but her. She never looked at me like I was the odd one, but as her special girl. All in all, she’s the reason I turned out the way I have today and I couldn’t be more grateful.

  I’ve been here for the last year, but it’s so different now that her things are gone. I moved in when my grandmother’s colon cancer really started to affect her. She told me she wanted me to come in as her primary caregiver, knowing I wouldn’t act selfishly like my cousins would if they were in my position. She knew I’d accept the transition process of life and be here to support her with whatever she needed.

  Sadly, much of the memories we shared during those last few months were filled with me refilling her medications, getting nutrients into her system, and ensuring she wasn’t in any pain. I can’t remember the last time we played a game of chess, or even rummy, but I wish I did.

  I miss her so much and not having her with me has been much more difficult than I ever thought it would be. Though, given everything, we were lucky. Even though the cancer spread throughout her entire body, she was still of sound mind.

  My phone begins ringing on the kitchen island, so I walk over and pick it up, dreading answering it the second I see ‘Mom’ on the screen. Just like always, I’ll answer because I’m the reliable daughter. My sister, though, not so much.

  “Hi, Mom,” I say as soon as I answer.

  “Charmaine, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all week. Listen, have you heard anything from the estate lawyer yet? We all know you’ve received the house, but we haven’t heard anything else.” Of course, she’s concerned about the money, but a woman constantly in debt would be.

  “No, it’s only been two weeks. You need to give him time to get things sorted out. I’m sure he’ll be in contact as soon as he’s able to.” My mom and grandmother never had the best relationship, but my mom resented her for leaving my grandfather. My grandfather decided it would be a grand idea to cheat on my grandmother, and then had the nerve to come and tell her his mistress was pregnant. He said he could split time between both families, wanted to be there for both of them. My grandmother, though, she kicked him right out the door. Told him she didn’t need someone like him in her life, and for that day and time, shoot, what a scandal it must’ve been.

  “Easy for you to say, you have a place to rest your head,” she grunts out in aggravation.

  “Don’t even start with me. It’s your fault you got yourself into this situation. I tried to help you so many times, but you keep doing the same things.” Maybe if she came here to help when my grandmother was sick, she might’ve been able to get the small cabin in the forest, but my mom can’t ever be bothered to do anything for anyone besides herself.

  “I shouldn’t have even called you,” my mom huffs before hanging up on me.

  “Charm! I need to vent about some shit, stat!” my best friend, Fern, yells from the foyer, causing me to practically crap my pants. Jesus. Why she can’t announce her presence like a normal person is beyond me.

  “Good, ‘cause my mom just called me and I have stuff to vent about too,” I tell her as I turn around. She cocks a brow and I know the sass is coming.

  “You shouldn’t even be answering her calls. She’s nothing but a money-hungry hoe.” Fern glances down and quickly realizes she doesn’t have something. “Crap, I’ll be right back. Forgot my phone in the car, and you know everyone at work uses me as their lifeline when shit goes haywire.” I wave Fern off and go into the living room, taking a seat on my comfortable new sectional couch.

  The doorbell rings and I figure it’s Fern, that she accidentally locked herself out, so I get up from the couch and head toward the front door. The second I’m able to get to the door and swing it open, I’m a bit taken aback by what’s right in front of my face.

  “Can I help you, officers?” I question the two men in police uniforms standing on my porch. One is tall with sandy blond hair, while the other is built like a tank and has a black buzz cut. For a second, I wonder if they’re strippers because they look that good.

  The one with the buzz cut takes a step forward. “Ma’am, I think you should have a seat.”

  My gut instantly clenches at those words. Officers only say things like this when someone’s died, or something horrible has taken place. God, what’s going on?

  “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather stand. Now, what’s the meaning of this? Something’s obviously happened.” I don’t mean to sound so stern, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t being a bit sassy with them. There’s nothing I hate more than waiting or surprises. Absolutely nothing.

  “Alright, well, I hate to be the bearer of this news. Your neighbor, Amanda, has been killed in a car accident. We’ve reached out to her sister, Ashley, and obtained approval from the aunt of the children to have you sit with the children and wait for their father to get here. From what we’ve gathered, he won’t be able to get here until mid-afternoon tomorrow, given he’s across the country.” The officer continues speaking and tells me what this means, that he’s so sorry, and asks if I’m alright.

  But I’m stuck trying to process this.

  Amanda’s dead.

  The only woman on this street who’s been kind to me while others have whispered about how I’m a witch, or mongrel . . . she’s dead.

  “Please tell me this is a mistake,” I murmur lightly while tears spill from the corner of my eyes.

  The blond officer grabs my hand and frowns. “I wish we could, but you know as well as I do, this isn’t. As much as I hate asking you this, we need to know you’ll go over and keep the children company until their father arrives. Otherwise, we need to call DCF and get someone over there.”

  I nod, understanding what he’s trying to say. “Yes, of course. I’ll head over as soon as you both leave. I just need to lock up and walk over.”

  “Thank you. I’m sure the children would appreciate you being there versus some stranger,” the one with the buzz cut says. I nod, not sure what else to do.

  Both of the officers walk off the porch and I grab my keys from the hook. I lock the door before heading over to Amanda’s house, knowing these kids will probably be a complete wreck.

  Fern comes up to me and widens her eyes. “What the hell was that about?”

  “Amanda, my neighbor. You know her, right?”

  “The one with the three kids, yeah?” />
  “I nod, she’s dead. They asked me to go sit with the kids until their dad gets here tomorrow.”

  “Oh god, I’m so sorry. Want me to tag along? Obviously we can’t bitch, but I’m sure there’s tons of other stuff we can do.”

  “Yeah, this is going to be so hard. I feel so bad for them.” I accept her gracious offer and we both walk across the property. A few weeks ago we created a little path through our yards, especially since Amanda and I had become such great friends through my grandmother’s illness.

  Inhaling a deep breath, I relax as much as I can and prepare to go mend these little hearts. I can’t imagine the way they’re feeling right now.

  Chapter Two

  Fenrir

  The entire time it took for Marker to get the club’s plane ready to go, I’d called the police at the Tallahassee department to inform them I was on my way. They confirmed my kids were with a friend of my ex’s at the house.

  Runes made sure I knew we’d discuss shit after my brothers and he joined me in Florida. Right now, I need to focus on my kids.

  Fuck, I still can’t believe Amanda’s gone. My mind wanders to our last conversation.

  “Oskar and Emil say they want a bike like yours,” Amanda murmurs through the line.

  “I don’t see why they can’t have one when they’re old enough.” I grin into the phone, knowing she can’t see it.

  “I’m not ready to think of either of them wanting to be on a bike. You know I have no problem with the life you live and the way you do it, but I can’t think of them living it. Not yet,” she proclaims.