Nordic Fairies (Novella Series, #1) Read online
Page 3
The girls outside the theatre screamed Viggo’s name, then screamed straight out like they had gone mad. Viggo turned, acknowledged their presence for two seconds, and then turned back to Amanda. The short attention increased the volume of their admiration.
Amanda leaned against Viggo’s frame and whispered something into his ear. When their eyes met they smiled, then turned back to the cameras.
Svala’s three friends froze in place. While staring at Viggo in the spotlight, they didn’t notice her take a step back. Viggo looked at the cameras, unaffected by the attention.
Slowly, Svala took a step forward. Viggo abandoned the cameras and scanned the place. He squinted again as the spotlight blinded him. When their eyes met, Svala wasn’t sure he had seen her with the light in his eyes. But she’d looked into his eyes, and she was no longer sure she could do this.
Chapter 5
A group of security guards cleared the way for Viggo and Amanda when they walked toward the theatre. Occasionally, they stopped, allowed more pictures to be taken, or for journalists to ask questions. Their hands stayed intertwined all the while.
Svala stood in the shadow watching them, her gaze drawn to their hands. It was too much. She tore her gaze away and searched the crowd for Alva, but couldn’t find her anywhere.
Again, Viggo abandoned the cameras and the journalists to look around. Svala wondered if he sensed her. She felt him so strongly it almost took over everything else, but she was aware of his presence. He was not aware of her.
“Come on, Svala. Let’s get over to the other side.” Jen reached for her. The other girls had already started walking.
“Actually, I think I need to go to the bathroom.”
Jen frowned. “Are you serious? Now? We might not get another chance to see him up close.”
“I’ll be right back. Go ahead. I’ll look for you.”
When her friends left, Svala stepped further into the shadow and studied Viggo’s face. He scanned the crowd, eyes still narrowed. He looked worried, but he would have regardless of his reasons for being there.
She longed to go up to him, put her hand on his hip and lean in to whisper how much she missed him. She hadn’t been there when he came home from work that day, and they didn’t get married. After she turned her back on him and walked into the bedroom, she ended up somewhere else. She didn’t walk into their bedroom and she no longer found herself in their Hollywood mansion. Instead she ended up in a room, in a house, in Washington. She was fourteen years old and starting all over.
Viggo’s hand tightened the grip on Amanda’s. Svala blinked back the tears. Crying in a public place would draw too much attention. She blinked again, excessively this time, but the tears would not obey. Frustrated over her inability to control her emotions, she hurried inside to the bathroom. Once the door closed behind her, the heartache subsided. She leaned against the door with a deep sigh.
She was not alone in the bathroom. At the end of the long sink a woman applied more lipstick to her already cherry-red lips, another fixed her hair, and a third observed her cleavage from the side, pushing her breasts together with a firm grip. They all looked up, but soon returned to what they had been doing.
She kept her head down and walked up to the sink, digging into her purse for her lip gloss, just to do something. She leaned over the sink, closer to the mirror, and lifted the brush to her lips. The spotlight from the upper edge mirror fell on her face, exposing her perfect fairy skin while she lifted the lip-gloss to her lips. She froze and her eyes widened. One contact had disappeared and she stared into one brown and one blue eye.
The woman beside her stopped fixing her hair, and looked at her for a good long while. Svala eased back from the mirror, away from the light. She lowered her head, and removed the other contact. Different colored eyes would draw even more attention than her unnatural blue eyes.
The woman turned to face her, and placed a hand on her skinny hip. “Are you someone’s daughter?” She lifted her chin to study Svala closer.
Svala knew what the woman meant, but couldn’t stop herself from the obvious answer. “Well, yes, of course. Aren’t you?”
The woman smirked, but let her gaze linger. Then her smirk grew uncertain, her lips twitched at the corner. Svala’s cocky reply didn’t rule out the possibility she was someone important.
Further down the powder room, the woman with the lipstick leaned back. She glanced over at them with an amused smile. The third woman offered them a quick bored look, like she didn’t care either way.
Svala opened her bag and dropped her lip gloss back inside. The woman still studied her and it made her nervous.
“Look, I’m no one important. I won the ticket.” She tried to keep her voice calm.
The woman stared at Svala. Her lips pressed into a thin line, like she was insulted and about to make a dramatic exit. Then, something changed in her eyes and her gaze shifted from annoyed to intrigued.
“Your eyes...” She leaned closer. “And your skin... You look like...”
Svala lowered her gaze in a beat.
“Are you related to Viggo Storm?”
Svala chortled. “I wish.” She tapped her fingers against the side of her body. “Or not, you know.” She rolled her eyes and raised her shoulders in feigned insecurity.
When the woman didn’t reply, Svala changed her tactic. “I have to...” She nodded toward the door. “My friends are waiting.”
The women in the bathroom looked after her as she scurried out, almost tripping over her own feet. Svala’s heart drummed so hard, it resonated in her head.
The theatre was crowded. She spotted Viggo and Amanda by one of the large movie posters. On the poster, Viggo held Amanda in his arms, gazing longingly into her eyes. Rather tacky and predictable, Svala thought, with self-noted jealousy.
She couldn’t find her friends anywhere. They were probably closer to Viggo, which meant she had to stay away from them. She should move to stand behind him, the best way to avoid being seen. But to get there, she would have to go across the room, and pass him. Since Viggo was occupied with a journalist, that shouldn’t be a problem.
Grabbing her bag with a firm grip, she walked out into the light. She kept her eyes on Viggo, and headed for the back of the room. A row of benches stretched along the wall. At the end of the row, the light had gone out, offering the perfect hiding place. She picked up her pace and walked until Viggo was dangerously close. With a turn of his head he would spot her. Determined to make it past him, she held her breath and took a long stride toward the benches. That was when she fell.
Somewhere in mid-fall, she realized what was happening. Her foot caught on a cord carelessly tossed over the floor, and people yelped in surprise as she lost balance. The loud murmur in the theater ceased, and garments rustled when the crowd turned to see her fall. She let go of her purse and braced herself against the hard floor with both hands.
A man in a tuxedo came to her aid. He knelt down and helped her up. “Are you okay, Miss?” he asked.
“Thanks. I’m fine.” She searched for her bag while the man still held her arm.
“Are you sure?”
Her eyes flickered over the floor, then stopped when she sensed him. Looking up, she meet Viggo’s gaze. He stood only a few feet away, staring straight at her. She stopped breathing, and without noticing, her eyes welled up again. The moment felt like minutes but if she had counted the seconds, she would have stopped at three. Three seconds, then Viggo broke eye contact and continued his discussion with the journalist in front of him. Svala stared at him in shock. His gaze had been blank and uninterested, annoyed even. Like she was nothing but another screaming girl, desperate for his attention.
The man at her side studied her with concern. “Miss, are you sure you’re okay? You look a bit pale.”
“I’m fine,” she managed through a strained breath.
Viggo didn’t turn to look at her again. Instead, he put his arm around Amanda and pulled her closer.
Chapter 6
Svala sat next to Trym on the edge of the bed, her eyes swollen, her gaze distant. “He didn’t recognize me. Why didn’t he recognize me?”
Trym put one arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “I don’t know, sweetie.” He kissed her temple. “Maybe he did. Maybe he only pretended not to.”
She left the theatre after her embarrassing fall and texted her friends she was feeling sick and had to leave.
“No, he looked straight at me, and he was...” She stared into the distance. “There was nothing there. Nothing.”
Trym hugged her tight. His silence worried her as he usually knew the right thing to say.
“Do you think they got to him? Could they have erased me from his memory?”
Trym stroked her hair. “It’ll do you no good, thinking like that.”
She grew silent. He hadn’t answered her question.
“Was this how it was with the two of you?” she asked.
Their eyes met. He offered her a meek smile, then continued stroking her hair. “No.” His voice was firm. “That was very different.”
She studied him, hoping to understand what went through his mind. Trym was the only one she knew who lost someone he loved to the Döckálfar. He didn’t like to talk about it.
“You would tell me, wouldn’t you?” she asked.
“Of course.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Try not to worry. We’ll figure out what’s going on. I mean you haven’t done anything you are not supposed to do, right? There is no reason for them to punish you.”
Svala nodded but avoided her nightstand where she’d placed the box with the amber necklace. “No. Of course not.” She swallowed hard.
“Good. Then you have nothing to worry about.”
Trym rose and walked toward the door. For a second, Svala considered telling him she had gone to see her, but quickly decided against it. He had always been against them seeking her out, and he was obliged to report it to the powers that be if she told him.
“Trym?”
He turned around. “Yes?”
“What do we do now?”
When their eyes met, she could have sworn he saw right through her. Then he paused and reached up to rub his chin.
“There is an autograph signing tomorrow at the mall. I’ll reschedule our flights.”
“What am I going to do there?”
If Viggo didn’t recognize her, or didn’t want to see her, what would it accomplish to seek him out again?
“Try again,” he said. “That is what we do, isn’t it?”
***
The line in the mall moved. They passed a beauty store and a scent of perfume washed over them. Sarah leaned against a sturdy advertisement sign from H&M that showed a woman wearing a red bikini.
“This is going to take forever,” she sighed.
Svala agreed. They’d been waiting in line for over one hour, and they had hardly moved. She looked at the table up front. Viggo was bored and impatient. To those who didn’t know him he probably gave a different impression, but she could tell. He didn’t want to be here.
“If we don’t make it, I might have to hurt someone,” Jen muttered.
A group of eleven tween girls ahead of them sulked as they abandoned the line. They walked over to a lady waiting by the Gucci store. One of the girls whined and told the woman she was being completely unfair. The woman glanced at her wrist watch and shook her head, then urged the girls to move along.
The line moved.
Viggo signed another picture, smiled at another girl and tapped his fingers against the desk. He didn’t seem to care that everyone was looking at him, he’d always been good at blocking out attention. After signing another picture, he dropped the pen onto the table and flexed his hand. Before he grabbed it again, his hand went up to his neckline. Svala’s heart stopped beating for a few seconds as he grabbed for something that wasn’t there. When realization set in, he smiled to himself and let his hand fall down over his chest.
Svala’s heart started beating faster.
It had been their sign when he needed her to rescue him out of a social situation. He’d touch the bow of his tie, as if adjusting it, or let his hand smooth over the length of it. Whenever he did that, Svala would come and request his attention elsewhere, thus getting him out of the situation without being rude. It had been especially useful in their life before last when Viggo had been running for office and their attendance to dull functions and fund-raising events had seen no end.
Svala kept smiling. Even if he didn’t recognize her, there was still hope. He remembered something.
Two hours later, they reached the end of the line. Svala urged her friends to go ahead while she turned around and jotted down a message on her hand: the name of her hotel and her room number. She hesitated then added: “Please nod if you recognize me. I’m worried about you.”
Megan stood in front of Viggo when Svala turned around. She had forgotten her speech and stared at Viggo with wide eyes. When he handed her the picture back she yelped, but didn’t move along. A security guard nudged her and told her to step aside for the next girl, Sarah.
Svala faced Amanda Jones, Viggo’s new girlfriend. Up close she was even more stunning. Her smile, however, less honest than it had appeared further back in the line. Svala handed Amanda the promotional picture. Amanda signed it and offered Svala the same bored look she’d given the other girls, then broke out smiling. Beside Svala, Sarah lingered with Viggo.
“Move along, miss.” The security guard shoved Sarah to the side.
One step to the left and Svala faced him. She met his calm blue eyes, but his smile didn’t differ from the one he’d offered all the girls before her. She handed him the picture, and her hand trembled while it hovered in the air in front of him.
Viggo looked at her hand, paused for a moment to read, then sighed annoyed and grabbed the picture with some force. She pulled back her hand and waited while he signed the photograph. Slower than before? She couldn’t tell, she was too nervous, too anxious to get his nod of recognition.
The pen ended in a perfect ‘m’. He slid the picture across the table, rather than picking it up and handing it to her, like he had with everyone else. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t even offer her the mandatory smile or the nod she expected. Instead, he leaned back and waited for her to pick up the picture. She waited. He looked past her out over the crowded mall, like he still sought someone.
“Miss.” A security guard put his hand on her arm. “Move along.”
Chapter 7
Svala folded her black dress into her suitcase and placed the signed picture of Viggo on top. Her hands trembled. She lifted them to her chest to calm herself down, and a deep shudder escaped.
Her friends had gone out, making the best of the last hours in New York before they had to leave. Trym was out too, searching for answers, or so he said. Svala told them she wasn’t feeling well.
Svala closed her bag when a violent knock cut through the silence. She jerked back.
Out in the living room she stopped short and stared at the door, too afraid to hope for him, too desperate not to. Her heart pounded; her hands still trembled.
“I know you’re in there!” Viggo’s voice was deep.
She hesitated, but not for long. When she opened the door, she couldn’t remember walking up to it or even turning the lock. Relief filled her at the sight of him. He wore the same clothes he had worn at the signing, and he looked tired.
“I recognize you.” His smile was sheepish.
She exhaled, but it came out more like strained laughter. His smile widened and his tensed shoulders relaxed.
“May I come in?”
Svala glanced out into the hallway, nodded then stepped aside. The door closed behind him. When he passed her, his arm brushed against hers. They both stopped and closed their eyes. Svala’s heart throbbed, her breathing escalated.
“I’ve missed you.” His voice sounded strained.
&nbs
p; They stood perfectly still, her eyes closed as she focused on breathing slower.
“You scared me so much,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry...”
Their breath mixed in the silent room and her own heartbeat resonated in her head like a drum. For a moment, time stopped.
She opened her eyes and lifted her gaze. He watched her, his blue eyes intense with regret and longing.
“Vig...” She swallowed hard. She should’ve stepped back, but couldn’t make herself. “Don’t...”
Viggo’s right hand clasped the left side of her face, his other landed on her hip. With a firm grip he pulled her against him, and leaned his forehead against hers. He caressed her cheek with determined, frustrated strokes. She gasped. His fit seventeen year-old body gave her little to want for.
“You weren’t there when I came back.” His voice turned hoarse.
She moved her face against his hand to feel the smooth surface of his skin against hers. His breath brushed against her face, and her lips parted. His touch robbed her of all sensible thoughts.
“God, I need you.” He clasped her face in both hands and eased back to look at her. His lips parted too, and the distance between them narrowed. The kiss landed on her lips, soft and familiar.
She moved with him. Like always, she didn’t grasp how much she needed him until she felt him. His hands moved up and into her hair, entangling her red strands as the kiss deepened. He pushed her toward the couch.
That’s when she pulled away and placed one hand on his chest. She pushed him away. “We can’t. They’ll keep us apart. We have to be stronger than this.”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, but didn’t let go.
“It’s okay.” She closed her eyes and searched for the strength to resist him.