Grendel's Curse (Rogue Angel, Book 48)
Alex Archer, Steven Savile
A sword of legend in the hands of an extremist…
Skalunda Barrow, Sweden, has long been rumored to be the final resting place of the legendary Nordic hero Beowulf. And there's something of Beowulf's that charismatic and zealous right-wing politician Karl Thorssen wants very badly. Intent on getting his hands on the mythical sword Nægling, Sweden's golden-boy politico puts together a team to excavate the barrow. A team that American archaeologist Annja Creed manages to finagle her way onto. She wouldn't miss this possible discovery for anything.
With Nægling at his side, Thorssen could be invincible…a Nordic King Arthur. What his followers don't know—and Annja is beginning to suspect—is just how far Thorssen will go to achieve his rabid amibitions. When Thorssen marks Annja for death, she quickly realizes that this is much more than a political game. And the only way to survive is to match Thorssen's sword with her own.
her as her heart rate slowed and a kind of serenity took the place of her earlier anxiety. It was always like this. Her world narrowed to a single point, beyond it there was nothing. She pictured Joan’s sword in her mind, and immediately felt the familiar weight of the blade in her hand as her fist closed around it. She smiled at the men who would try to kill her, enjoying the looks of confusion, surprise and then disbelief cross their faces as she drew the sword from the otherwhere. The sword
impossible second. There was no obvious change in the surfaces. Nothing apart from the crust of corrosion that had always been there. He started to think about it as dragon’s blood again, pushing the pieces together, willing Nægling to be whole again. But nothing happened. As his mother liked to say, if wishes were fishes he could have fed an army of loyal supporters for free. Karl Thorssen turned on the television in the hope of getting some news about the car accident. It wasn’t grim
dissected at various key points in time, points that could be identified and prove telling because each and every one of them had links to one man: Karl Thorssen. There was no denying the finger of blame would be laid at Thorssen’s door sooner or later, and even if Thorssen didn’t care, Tostig did, because if Thorssen talked there was only one man he could talk about: Tostig. Which meant the relationship had moved into sudden death. It was time for the assassin to watch his back. Trust his
even though she knew he was right. “We don’t even know who we’re dealing with.” “Of course we do—it’s Karl Thorssen. He’s behind it all. Everything from sabotaging his own rally—all of those innocent people dead simply because they believed in his hate speech—to Mortensen, the fireworks guy and very nearly us. There’s nothing to be gained by trying to kid ourselves here. We’ve picked up a very powerful enemy—” “Exactly,” Annja agreed, cutting him off. “He’s connected. He has friends in law
sent spiders and other night creatures scuttling for darkness, the only witnesses to the car being left there. This was a better solution than trying to dispose of the car, body and carpet all at once, when the city was already caught in the carnage that Tostig was creating. Thorssen stood back, glancing up and down the row of garages to be sure no eyes were on him. The place was deserted, and he locked up once again. He had no idea how many people still used these garages. Not many, surely?