Valhalla Virus by Nick Harrow (best management books of all time TXT) 📕

held her ground, though, and looked out over the fence. Monsters had gathered out there, curious and fearful. They stared at Hilda’s raised fist, radiating with the raw power of the relic she’d stolen and the hamingja of the Valkyrie she’d slain.

“That’s right,” she whispered. “Bow down. Your queen has arrived.”

Chapter 16

IT TOOK THEM AN HOUR to make their way to the top of the hotel after they’d crossed the lobby. The casino’s slot machines had changed into strange altars strewn with wooden tokens painted gold. The elevators were crypts stuffed with the dead. Seeing those corpses, dressed in modern clothing, their faces twisted into masks of horror or rage, crammed into those twisted cells left Gunnar dizzy and out of sorts for minutes after. What worried him wasn’t the changes he saw. What tugged at his nerves was the certainty that he remembered all of this.

And he had no idea how he could remember things he’d never seen before.

The völva were quiet as they climbed one flight of stairs after another. Bodies—mostly humans, though a few jötnar, too—gathered flies on several landings. Gunnar hated the carnage, and his rage built with every floor he ascended. Mimi was right. The jötnar had to die. All of them. From the lowliest footsoldier up to Hyrrokkin.

The group finally navigated their way to the penthouse villas perched on the casino’s roof. While much of the building had changed and warped, the upper floors seemed mostly untouched by the transformation.

Fortunately, the finest of MGM’s rooms weren’t occupied when all the badness went down. They looked exactly as they had when the maids had last cleaned them. Crisp white sheets covered firm mattresses, bowls of mostly fresh fruit waited on counters. They even had power in the villa Gunnar chose, which made the bodyguard wonder if there were generators somewhere nearby, still churning away to provide electricity for guests who would never come.

“I hope they have hot water,” Mimi said. “And one of those fancy cloud showers with mood lighting and aromatherapy. I need to get the stink of that stairwell out of my nose.”

“Let’s find out,” Bridget said. The völva oohed and aahed over the fancy furniture and kicked off their shoes to walk barefoot on the opulent carpet.

Gunnar headed for the glass doors across the living room from the rest of the villa. There was a patio out there, complete with a fire pit, some small trees for privacy, and a powerful telescope for looking down on the little people. It took him a few minutes to get the telescope lined up properly, but once he did Gunnar enjoyed a perfect view of the Luxor’s main entrance.

And all the jötnar cavorting there.

Not even the telescope allowed Gunnar to count the number of blue-skinned freaks on the steps leading into the casino. It had to be close to a hundred, with no telling how many more were inside.

He and the völva would have to be very stealthy, very lucky, and very well-armed to have any chance of pulling this mission off. Gunnar watched his enemies, the rage growing with every passing minute. He searched for entrances that would let them slip past the monsters until his eye ached from the strain. He hadn’t found anything when Ray called to him from the doorway.

“Hey,” she said. “Come here for a second. Mimi wants to talk to you.”

GUNNAR’S SHOULDERS and neck were tight from being hunched over the telescope. He welcomed Ray’s distraction. Even if “she wants to talk to you” was a sentence that rarely ended up being a good thing in his experience.

“Is she okay?” he asked.

“I think so,” Ray said. “We were talking about witchy stuff, and she told Bridget to get out and sent me to find you.”

Gunnar didn’t like the sound of that. “What am I supposed to do for her?”

Ray grabbed his hand and pulled him through the enormous suite. “Talk to her. She needs you.”

They stopped at the hallway that led to the bedrooms, where Bridget was waiting. The two völva gave him quick kisses on the cheek, then walked away. Gunnar straightened up and rapped on the door. This felt so weird, and he was more nervous than he wanted to admit. Mimi didn’t have problems. That wasn’t her thing.

So what was this?

“Hey,” the bodyguard said, “can I come in?”

After a moment’s pause, he heard the door’s lock click, and it swung open. Mimi, looking distinctly uncomfortable in the fur vest and skirt that had replaced her concert T-shirt and jeans ensemble, looked up at him. “Okay.”

She stepped back to let Gunnar into the room, then closed the door behind him. The bodyguard thought about sitting on the edge of the bed but worried Mimi would take it wrong. Instead, he pulled a plush chair away from the corner and plopped down in it. The frame creaked under his weight. “What’s going on?”

Mimi fidgeted, her back to the door. Her hair was still damp from the shower, and her furs clung to her body in ways that made Gunnar want to sweep her into his arms. She smelled clean and fresh, like a spring morning after a gentle rain.

But there was something in her eyes that was not gentle at all. A hunger that called to Gunnar on a deep, primal level.

“Mimi—” he started.

“Don’t talk,” she whispered.

The völva stepped forward and put a hand on Gunnar’s chest. She advanced another step, pushing him back into the chair, and clambered into Gunnar’s lap.

She was shaking like a leaf when she kissed him.

Her lips were warm and soft. The curly coils of Mimi’s hair brushed across his cheeks. Her fingers tangled in Gunnar’s beard, which had grown like weeds since the Valknut had taken up residence in his head. Her gentleness gave way to a greater urgency as the kiss went on, and Mimi whimpered with every breath. She slipped her legs through the chair’s arms to straddle Gunnar, pressing her body tight against his.

“Are you