Viking Warrior Rebel Read Online Free PDF Page B

of joke. She must have misheard.
    Dr. Rosen smiled. “Thanks to the formula his sister sent us, Scott made an excellent recovery. He’s not yet at one hundred percent, but with proper physical therapy—”
    Astrid stood. “That’s not what I meant. Why did you let him leave? You knew someone was coming to pick him up.” This couldn’t be happening. Her heart pounded faster, and the berserker paced impatiently inside her, testing the mental barriers Astrid had put in place to cage it. She had to calm down, or this would end in disaster.
    â€œWe don’t keep our patients against their will.” Dr. Rosen frowned. “Scott wanted to leave, so we processed his release.”
    Astrid forced air into her lungs in deep, slow breaths. “And he just walked out the gate?” She sat down again. “Did someone pick him up?”
    Dr. Rosen consulted his notes again. “He called a car service.”
    â€œAre you sure you’re not mixing him up with a different patient?” She squeezed her eyes shut while she waited for the doctor’s answer. When none came, she opened them again and found Dr. Rosen watching her with sympathy in his eyes.
    â€œScott is one of my personal favorites. Watching him walk out this door of his own accord was a moment of triumph.” He offered a self-deprecating smile.
    Astrid slowly shook her head. She was so screwed. “Did he at least leave a message?”
    The doctor handed over a yellow sticky note.
    Tell Neyney I’ll be in touch.
    Astrid stared at the words. Neyney was Scott’s nickname for Naya. The sound of her own heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears. She wanted to hit something. Hard.
    She was so screwed. All she had to do was pick up the queen’s brother, and she couldn’t even do that right. So much for the skydd ceremony. Obviously the gods had not listened to the pledge of granting her a successful mission. Odin and Freya had placed a curse on her instead. She turned to Dr. Rosen. “What car service did he use?”
    The doctor made a grimace of regret and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know. Not to mention that if I did, I still couldn’t tell you. We have very strict doctor-patient confidentiality rules that I can’t violate.” He stood. “I’m sure Scott will be in touch soon.”
    Yep, definitely cursed.
    * * *
    Hours later, after many phone calls to car services, Astrid had finally found some useful information. A rather dim clerk had told her they’d had a fare from somewhere “way up in the mountains” to the train station. He’d even given her the driver’s cell phone number, and the passenger’s description fit Scott. Although “tall and dark, not very talkative” could technically be anyone, she held on to the slim hope that Scott had hired the driver’s town car.
    The historical Denver Union Station was an impressive light-gray building with an ornate facade and huge arched windows. Astrid stepped inside and admired the tall ceilings created to offset those same windows. The muted light of dusk filtered through their glass, helped by old-fashioned chandeliers illuminating the polished floors with a warm, golden glow. She found the information counter and studied the route map. The station was on the California Zephyr line, which meant Scott could be on his way to any city between Chicago and San Francisco. Mother of Valkyries, why could things never be easy?
    A dull headache started to throb between Astrid’s temples. She checked the schedule and cheered up a little. The westbound train departed at eight a.m. Unless Scott had spent the night in Denver, he wouldn’t have been able to board that route. Most likely, he’d headed east and was now somewhere between here and Chicago. In order to track him down, should she dump the car and board a train, or drive to each city on the route?
    Astrid’s phone