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Table of Contents

Summary

Black Forge Books Mailing List

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

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Books, Mailing List, and Reviews

The Adventure Continues!

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Copyright

About the Author

Summary

THE END OF THE WORLD is coming, and Las Vegas has a front row seat.

Gunnar Rake came to Vegas for what should have been his easiest job in years: bodyguard an old flame for three days. But when a weaponized virus transforms half of Sin City into monsters out of a Viking nightmare, his cushy job becomes a desperate rescue mission.

And that’s all before Viking gods show up and things really get out of hand.

Valhalla Virus is the first book in the wild new Ragnarok Rebels series, featuring over-the-top action, a harem of deadly and beautiful witches, and enough monsters and magic to choke Jörmungandr.

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Chapter 1

GUNNAR EASED THE SUITE’S door open, one hand on the H&K P30L in the no-print holster behind his right hip and pocketed the key card he’d used. The bodyguard had hauled ass from LA to Vegas, his battered Indian Chieftain screaming for mercy the whole way, after Rayleigh had broken her five-year silence with a simple text message.

Need some quiet time. Overlooking the fountains. There’s a key at the desk.

The coded message had jumpstarted Gunnar’s heart and sent him racing out the door. The quiet time reference told him not to contact her by phone. Overlooking the fountains was a reminder of the nights they’d spent in Vegas, holed up in Caesar’s Augustus Tower. Between bottles of whiskey and vigorous intimate interludes, they’d watched the Bellagio’s water show through the floor-to-ceiling windows in their suite more times than Gunnar could count.

But that was before Arthur’s bullshit lie about corporate espionage had banished Gunnar to a life of crime. He hadn’t heard from Ray in the half a decade since, and that fact, combined with the code, had Gunnar’s instincts on high alert as he stepped into the suite. He stifled a road-dust sneeze and scanned the room with wary eyes.

The only light came through the gigantic windows overlooking the fountain, and the only person Gunnar saw was most definitely not a threat. He pulled the door’s privacy lock into place and relaxed, just a little.

Ray stood in front of the window overlooking the Bellagio’s fountains, raven-black hair cascading down her back to her dangerously curved hips. She’d pulled the sheer privacy curtains into her arms, and the gossamer fabric spread out to either side of her like a pair of wings. Lights from the street below outlined her in a golden halo. “This is a hell of a view,” she said.

“It certainly is from where I’m standing,” Gunnar said as he let his hand fall away from the pistol. The years since he’d last seen Rayleigh in his bike’s rearview mirror seemed to evaporate. It was as if no time had passed at all. “You’re a hell of a sight for sore eyes.”

Ray was on the short side, especially when compared to Gunnar’s towering frame, but she was far from dainty. A stretchy black skirt hugged the swell of her hips, and her curvy legs disappeared into a pair of chunky engineer’s boots. Gunnar recognized those from the times she’d hopped on the back of his bike. She’d worn the same clothes their last night together in Vegas. Past and present blurred in a kaleidoscope of carnal memories.

As battered and bruised as the desert motorcycle ride had left him, the sight of Ray bathed in that golden light had every part of the bodyguard standing at attention.

“Thanks for coming,” she said, her voice sounding a little choked and hoarse. The light shifted around her as jets of water crashed down into the Bellagio’s basin with the sound of distant thunder. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

Gunnar shrugged out of his dusty jacket and draped it over the chair sitting in front of the fancy desk parked against the suite’s wall.

“All you had to do was ask,” Gunnar said. “It sure would be nice to know why you asked, though.”

Ray leaned her forehead against the window and tapped her nails against the glass. When she spoke, her voice was faint and a little shaky. “Not yet. Soon. But not yet.”

Gunnar wanted to sweep her into his arms but held back. The light made Ray look like a ghost who’d vanish at the first touch. Instead, he took a seat on the king-size bed, unzipped his boots, and shucked them off along with his socks. He curled his toes into the carpet, making fists with his feet. God, that felt good. He blinked hard, his tired eyes burning from hours of staring at blacktop in the white light of his bike’s headlight. When he opened them again, Rayleigh’s curves demanded their full attention.

The bodyguard watched his old flame watching the fountains, her hips swaying to the muted music from outside, until the last splash of water faded away and the lights dimmed. Without a word, Ray turned to face Gunnar and stepped out of the curtains. The filmy fabric drifted behind her for a moment, like wisps of trailing fog, then settled against the glass.

She stopped at the end of the bed, hands on her hips, eyes smoldering. Her skirt struggled to keep a grip on her curves, and her tube top had nearly lost the battle to contain the full mounds of her breasts. A faint pink flush spread across the exposed slopes of Ray’s chest and climbed up her smooth throat to highlight her full cheeks.

The bodyguard ached for Ray with every fiber of his being. The sight of her, close enough to touch, banished all the

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