Light Dragons 01 - Love in the Time of Dragons

slaved for that man for all those years. Talk about ungrateful. Do you think Kostya would let us buy that house? This one is nice enough and all, but that house is just so us. And while I’m thinking of it, who was it who gave his life for me? It wasn’t you, was it? You were already dead. So who did that? I wonder also if I need to get a divorce from Gareth. Were we even really married, or did he just say we were?”
    Baltic sighed again. “You wear me out with all these questions, mate. Can you not think, instead, of all the ways in which I will use chocolate upon your body?”
    “Stop distracting me. I’m angsting, and I can’t do it if—wait, on my body? Oooh. Now that is kind of kinky. . . .”

Read on for an excerpt from
Katie MacAlister’s next Dark Ones Novel
    In the Company of Vampires

    Coming from Signet in November 2010
    I sighed and smiled at Kurt. “The Vikings have been sent to help me with a little situation. They won’t cause any problem with the customers. Right, gentlemen?”
    “We have sworn to not slay anyone you do not authorize us to slay,” Eirik said with a frown. “Although I dislike you binding us to such an oath, virgin goddess. It makes us feel helpless.”
    “You guys are anything but helpless, and you know it. Is Imogen up yet, do you know?”
    Kurt blinked. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her this morning. Did he say virgin goddess?”
    “No, he didn’t,” I said loudly, narrowing my eyes at each and every one of the Vikings. They grinned at me, the rats. “She knows I was coming, so I’ll just go say hi and get my Vikingahärta from her.” And get the meeting with Ben out of the way.
    Inner Fran could not help but wonder if he missed me.
    I hurried toward the gold-and-white trailer decorated with scarlet hands and runes, which was Imogen’s home when she was traveling with the GothFaire, ignoring both Inner Fran and my suddenly rapidly beating heart.
    Kurt called something after us, but I was suddenly frantic to see Ben. Imogen! Not Ben, but Imogen! I didn’t want to see Ben at all. In fact, I’d pay good money to have someone haul him away so I wouldn’t accidentally run into him.
    Inner Fran told me it was the purest folly to lie to oneself. I gritted my teeth and told her to go do something rude to herself. As we walked to Imogen’s trailer, I stopped and turned to the Vikings. “Uh . . . guys, would you give me a few minutes alone with Be . . . er . . . Imogen?”
    Eirik looked suspicious. “If you command it, virgin goddess. What should we do while we are waiting for you?”
    “It would be really helpful if you could scout around the area and see if there are any signs Loki was here.”
    His suspicion turned darker. “We are not scouts! Vikings do not scout! We are above such things!”
    “Well . . . what do you do?” I asked.
    “We pillage,” he answered quickly. “We plunder.”
    “We kill,” added Finnvid. “A lot.”
    “Don’t forget drinking. We drink a lot, as well.”
    The other two nodded
    “It’s too early to drink, I don’t want anyone killed, there will be no pillaging, and since I know one or the other of you is bound to add this to your list, no oiling of breasts, either. At least not out in public. What you do in private is thankfully your own business.” I filled my expression with as much pathos as I could pack into it. “But if you don’t want to look around for signs of Loki, and where he might have gone, I’ll have to find someone else to do it.”
    Eirik’s nostrils flared. “We were assigned by the goddess Freya to aid you! You will have no others. If you desire us to scout . . .” He shuddered. “Then we will lower ourselves to scouting.”
    “Think of it as being Viking ninjas.” I leaned in and lower my voice to a conspiratorial level. “Stealthy and covert.”
    “Stealthy,” Finnvid said thoughtfully.
    “Covert?” Eirik glanced at the others. “Have we ever been covert?”
    Isleif shook his head. “No, but I watched a movie about ninjas. They were most deadly and feared by all. Just like us. We will be ninjas, virgin goddess. Viking ninjas.”
    “The best kind,” Eirik agreed.
    “Sounds good. You go be stealthy, covert Viking ninjas”—really, I deserve an award for being able to say that without so much as one titter or a twitch of my lips—“and I’ll meet you guys back here in a couple of hours, OK? You remember which trailer is my mom’s?”
    They nodded.
    “We must go shopping