Valkyrie by Kate O'Hearn Page B

breastplate and fell harmlessly to the ground. Odin had been right. As long as she wore the armour, nothing could harm her – no matter where it struck.
    The rules of Asgard said that if she, a Valkyrie, touched a human with her bare skin, or wings, they would die instantly and be sent to Valhalla. But in all her training, she was never told what would happen if she killed a human with her sword.
    Not wanting to risk Odin’s wrath, Freya would do no more than wound. She wielded her sword with precision and she sliced the guns out of the attackers’ hands and left the men on the wet ground, moaning and crying as they clutched their wounds. Freya leaped at the leader and pressed down on his chest with her black leather boot and placed the tip of her sword at his throat.
    ‘Your reign of terror in this neighbourhood ends tonight, human. If I learn of you or your men attacking anyone ever again, I will not be so generous and spare your lives.’
    ‘What are you?’ the leader cried as his frightened eyes lingered on her open wings. ‘I shot you, I know I did.’
    ‘Your weapons are powerless against me. Remember my warning. Bring peace to these streets or you will face me again. There will be no second chances.’
    Freya turned and left the man. She approached the two victims. ‘Come,’ she commanded as she walked further down the street.
    Too frightened not to obey, the couple dashed past the attackers on the ground and followed Freya.
    ‘Thank you, thank you,’ cried the man. ‘I don’t know who or what you are, but you saved our lives.’
    They were only young – not very much older than her, by Earth standards. He was handsome with sparkling eyes and pale, smooth skin, apart from a spread of stubble around his chin. The young woman was pretty and held an air of gentleness. She reminded Freya of a delicate little fawn in the woods. She could feel that they cared deeply for each other.
    In that moment, Freya realized she’d never felt more alive or happy. She shared in their pure joy of existence. They all knew something amazing had just happened – even if the couple didn’t know that she was a Valkyrie: a reaper of souls. But there had been no reaping tonight. Freya had saved lives, not taken them. The feeling was more intense than she could imagine.
    The Angels of Death drew near. The older-looking angel spoke in a grave tone. ‘Azrael will hear of this, Valkyrie. He will not be pleased. You have broken the rules and intervened where you had no right. These streets are ours.’
    ‘Tell Azrael if you must,’ Freya said softly. ‘But I meant no disrespect. I just couldn’t let this happen when it is within my power to stop it.’
    The angel shook his head. ‘You have changed their destiny tonight. They were meant to come with us. Tell them they have new lives and to make the best of them. We will be watching. If they do badly in their new lives, or if their future children do harm, the judgement will be on you.’
    ‘I understand,’ Freya said, bowing her head.
    The two angels bowed, opened their white wings and took to the sky.
    The man turned quickly and looked behind him. When he returned to Freya, his eyes were wide. ‘What just happened? Who were you talking to? It felt like someone was standing right behind us.’
    Freya nodded. ‘You are correct. They were Angels of Death, here to take you with them. They have gone now.’
    The young woman cried out and the man put his arm around her for comfort. ‘We, we weren’t supposed to be here,’ he started. ‘We were in our car and got lost. We came to Chicago for our honeymoon. But when we ran out of gas, those men attacked us. We didn’t have time to run. If you hadn’t come . . .’
    ‘They would have killed you,’ Freya said.
    His fear was calming. He looked back and saw the attackers, still on the ground and clutching their wounds. In the distance the sound of sirens filled the air. It was getting closer. He offered his hand to Freya.