The front door flung open, and a straight-up supermodel sauntered inside. Where Greta was girl-next-door pretty, this chick looked like she’d stepped off the pages of a fashion shoot, warrior style. Long, dark brown waves tumbled over her shoulder, grazing the barely contained cleavage peeking from the deep V-neck of her shirt. At her hip was a large sword that looked like it had borne heavy use—the metal had nicks and scratches all over it. And for reasons that eluded me, she’d worn thigh-high boots laden with sheathed daggers to a healing party.
The energy in the room shifted from joyful to edgy faster than the Mack Pack had stopped the night elf onslaught. Who was this girl? And why did she make everyone so uncomfortable?
“Synna.” Tore frowned. “What are you doing here?”
With a haughty hair toss, Synna sauntered into the living room. None of the guys stood up to greet her.
“I came to see you, silly. Our six-month hiatus was up five weeks ago, and you never called. Then I remembered you were trapped here, and I figured you were probably dying of boredom. So I came to you.” Synna plopped herself onto the couch next to Tore, and ran her fingers through his hair. His hand locked down on my shoulder, tension radiating from the digits.
“This isn’t the time to talk about us. Why don’t you go back to Asgard, and I’ll call you when I’m ready?” Tore sounded dismissive, but the familiarity in his tone made me check his energy. Still nothing. Dang it, the boy was a closed book. What was his deal with Synna? What did he mean by us?
“I’m here now.” Synna scooted closer to Tore. He leaned away from the contact, so his chest brushed against my arm. Mmm . . . Tore’s pecs.
I pulled myself out of my ogle and noticed the guys’ energy had shifted again. Their protective vibe was up—the one they wore as a unit whenever they were looking out for me. Their vibe crushed my hope that this chick was Tore’s overly touchy sister—one he’d never mentioned having. Since I was pretty sure Tore was an only child, I could only assume Synna was Tore’s . . . girlfriend. Crap.
“You need to leave, Synna.” Bodie stepped away from the fireplace. “Allie’s hurt, and Greta needs to focus on healing her—”
“Oh, Allie, is it?” Synna leaned over Tore and held out her hand. It could have been an accident that she positioned her boobs right in front of his face to greet me. But it probably wasn’t.
“Hey.” I shook the fingertips Synna offered and immediately pulled back. A jolt of icy energy ran up my arm and pressed against my heart center, like it was trying to break in. This girl was bigtime bad news.
Synna raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow. “I’m Tore’s girlfriend. Funny, he’s never mentioned you.”
“Huh.” I shrugged, ignoring the churning in my gut. “I live with him, and he’s never mentioned you, either.”
“Burn.” Johann chuckled.
“You’re not my girlfriend,” Tore corrected. He pushed Synna’s shoulder away, so her boobs were out of his face, then moved closer to me so his arm draped firmly across my shoulders. The contact sent a different, considerably warmer, pulse of energy through me. Much better.
“I know.” Synna pushed out her bottom lip. “We’re on a break. But we were supposed to have our chat a month ago, and you’ve been too busy with work. So I decided to come to you.”
“Fine.” Tore sighed. “Greta, can you get started healing Allie’s ankle? A bone break like this will take her a few days to heal on her own, and I really need her operational sooner than that in case there’s another attack.”
“Of course.” Greta picked her backpack off the floor and removed a small box. Her delicate fingers sorted through the contents before removing a crystal, two small bottles, and a vial with a stopper.
Tore squeezed my shoulder. “Greta’s the best healer we’ve got. She’ll get your ankle fixed with minimal pain.”
“Can’t hurt more than it already does,” I said lightly. I was trying really hard not to let Synna affect me. I liked the way Tore’s arm felt around my shoulder, and I wanted him to keep it there without some boob-wielding ex lurking around, thank you very much.
“Right.” Tore pulled his arm away from me and stood. “Synna, let’s talk outside. Guys, hold down the fort while I’m gone.”
Bodie furrowed his brow. “You sure, man?”
Tore shrugged. “Gotta deal with it sometime.” He turned on one heel and stalked from the room, pulling the front door open without a backward glance. “You coming?” he called from the porch.
Synna smirked. “On my way, lover.” She stretched her long legs in front of her and stood, sauntering languidly after Tore. Her hips swayed with each step, and I tried not to envy her curves. Or the relationship she seemed to believe she had with my favorite protector. Dear Universe, Please let her be delusional. Please, please, please. Thank you, Allie.
“Well, that was awkward.” Johann stated the obvious. “Maybe she’ll go home sooner than later.”
“I’m so over dealing with Synna.” Bodie shook his head. “I hope Tore’s ready to cut her loose for good this time.”
My gut clenched. “So they do have a thing?”
“Tore and Synna have been on and off for years.” Bodie rolled his eyes. “We can’t stand her. She brings out the worst in him.”
“Synna suffers from low self-esteem,” Mack said sagely. “Her father is mostly absent, so she relies on peer male approval to validate her worth. She doesn’t understand that if she learns to love herself, she’ll be able to walk her path in peace without external validation.”
I nodded at Mack’s words of wisdom. I also made a note to be careful with what I said around him, so he wouldn’t psychoanalyze me, too. With my background, I probably had all kinds of issues I wasn’t aware of.
“You learn that mumbo jumbo in your Women’s Studies class?” Johann threw a pillow at Mack.
“It’s called awareness, you idiot.” Mack threw the pillow back. “Try it sometime.”
“Ignore them, Allie.” Greta moved her tools to the coffee table next to the ottoman. “Whatever Tore’s dealing with, it has nothing to do with your injury. And right now, I need you to focus all of your energy on that ankle. Can you do that for me?”
“Sure. No, wait.” I winced as my shifted attention sent a stabbing pain up my leg. “Maybe I don’t focus on the ankle.”
Greta smiled. “You’re a demigod, ja?”
“Uh, yeah.” The pain ebbed infinitesimally. “Why?”
“Well, like most immortals, only a dark magic malady can kill you. A break like this could be a conduit for a lethal infection, so I want to make sure the night elf didn’t inject you with any darkness before I set the break. If there’s any darkness in you, I’ll trap it in the vial and banish it to another realm. Let me just run a test.” Greta picked up her crystal and held it over my swollen joint.
“That sounds like a good idea.” I shuddered. Please don’t let my leg be filled with dark magic. Also, please don’t let Tore be making out on the porch with the supermodel. M’kay?