Page 110 of Savior
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DEAN
“You got a minute? I need to run some… shit, by you.” I say, unsure of how I’m even going to word this.
Viking cocks a brow at me as we walk out of the gym together. “Club shit?”
“Not exactly.”
“Alright, step into my office.” Viking jokes, detouring into the kitchen to raid the fridge. I lean back against the counter as I watch him gather wrapped deli meats and condiments in his arms and drops them onto the table. “Pass me the bread in that cabinet behind you.” He says, pulling out a chair from the table and sitting down. I grab the loaf of bread and toss it to him. As he untwists the tie to pull half the loaf out of its packaging, he eyes me again. “What’s up?”
“Met with Lucinda the other day… She had some… weird shit to say, about Legion.”
“Okay.”
I grip the back of my neck, trying to think of a way to describe the odd things she said to me. “She thinks he’s in love with her.”
“And why would that bother you?” Viking sits back in his chair, practically glaring at me. “You’re marrying Vanna.” He says sternly, abandoning his sandwich making task. “I thought you were way over Lucinda and whomever she’s letting between her legs these days.”
“What? No, bro-” I try to say before he cuts me off again.
“Vanna is pregnant with your kid… If you’re hung up on Lucinda again, I’m gonna fuck you up, bro. Vanna loves you. This is fucked up.”
“I’m not talking about Lucinda and Legion, you idiot!” I snap at him. “Lucinda thinks Legion is in love with Vanna, asshole.”
“Oh.” I can see the tension leave his muscular frame. Shit, he really was ready to kick my ass for Vanna.
“I’m touched by your loyalty to our First Lady.”
“Whatever.” He grunts, going back to slathering bread with mustard and slices of cold cuts, as if he never cared at all. That’s Viking.
“Anyway, she said he’s got some kind of closet filled with melted candles… and bones, and… shit... And her picture in there with red and black wax around it. I figured you’re a Pagan, maybe you know what the fuck that’s about? I can’t exactly ask Vanna without freaking her out. You know she believes in all that witchy shit.”
“I don’t do weird shit like that, just for the record.” Viking says with a raised hand, as if physically blocking the inaccurate association. “Vanna sure has a way of attracting psychos.”
“Tell me about it.”
Viking looks at me wryly for a moment, as if I’m missing something. “Present company included in that assessment, bro.”
“Whatever.” I don’t care if anyone thinks I’m a psycho when it comes to her. In fact, let them think it. I am. “She said he cuts himself and touches her picture with his blood.”
“Yeah, homeboy has it bad for your woman, Dean.” Viking says, his eyes a little wider as he shakes his head and goes back to constructing his sandwiches. “But that type of shit isn’t anything I know about. Nor would I ever be so sprung over a bitch to even fuck myself up mentally to do that kind of crazy shit.”
“What’s the point of it?”
“Blood magic is powerful, if you believe in it.” Viking shrugs, slapping a sandwich together and taking a big bite of it. “He’s trying to pull her to him by using his blood... Create a stronger bond.” He says around a mouthful of food. “Honestly, I wouldn’t tell her. Don’t give him any psychological advantage. If she knows he’s doing it, she’ll think about it… a lot. And well, I just wouldn’t tell her, bro. Plus, it’s stress she doesn’t need. She’s pregnant.” He says it again as if that bit of knowledge isn’t at the forefront of my mind at any given second.
“I wasn’t planning to tell her. But now that you’ve freaked me out, I’m definitely not going to tell her.”
“Anything else?” he asks, shoveling the rest of the first sandwich into his mouth.
“There was something left on our property a few weeks ago. It was like a… Doll of some sort. It looked like it was made of twigs and wax. White wax, and there was red power in the stomach area of the doll. Kinda like a pot belly of red Cayenne pepper…” I stop talking when Viking’s expression goes from neutral to glaring.
“Bro, did Vanna see that?”
“I didn’t want her to, but yeah.”
“Did she touch it?”
