Obviously, of the two of them, Khent had the most power. Not to mention was better looking and smarter. Pleased she understood where to properly direct her attention, he nodded.
“So how many of you live here anyway? Five? Six?”
“We are kin,” Khent answered without really answering.
Rolf hopped on the counter, never content to stand still. “There are six of us. The strigoi, who killed his old master vampire back in Romania. I mean, that’s badass, right?”
Val’s eyes widened.
“That’s Varu. Then we have Duncan, the revenant. Orion, the vrykolakas.”
“The vrykolakas likes water, right?” Val asked.
Khent frowned at Rolf, who seemed a little too eager to part with information the human didn’t warrant.
“Yes. They originated off the Greek island of Santorini and are partial to the sea. Very good.” Rolf winked at her. “You met Kraft already. He’s our nachzehrer and is pretty wolfish. Didn’t your shifter buddy poison him and his mate?”
Val shrugged.
“Then we have Khent, our reaper, who enjoys dead things. Gross, but there you have it.”
“Thanks, Rolf,” Khent sighed. “Dead things aren’t gross. It’s nature’s way of protecting balance.”
“That’s very true,” Valentine agreed.
“Whatever. Corpses rot.” Rolf shrugged. “Then we come to me, the most powerful of all of us.”
“Not at all.”
“The best-looking.”
“Not at all,” Khent said again.
“And the most fun. I’m a draugr. We know how to have a good time.” He blew Valentine a kiss. “I mean, I come from the Vanargand Clan. A reference to my boy, Fenrir.Rawr.” He held up a hand and clawed at the air.
The little human scowled. “Fenrir? As in the giant wolf of Norse legend who ends the world?” She shook her head. “He’s not real.”
“Oh, but he is.” Rolf shot Khent a smug look. “Our reaper here used to be one of the Sons of Osiris. But Osiris is a stupid god.”
“Stupid?” Khent scoffed. “They’re all stupid. But at least he’s in command of the underworld and resurrection. Fenrir licks his own balls.”
“A huge plus.”
Valentine blushed and muttered, “Oh my God. Could you two please stop talking?”
Rolf ignored her. “Fenrir eats the world. He kills Odin. That’s killer. Literally.”
Khent, getting bored with the discussion, sighed. “The wolf bit off Tyr’s hand and killed Odin. Big deal.”
“But…Odin?” Valentine frowned at Rolf, likely seeing the wolf light shining from his eyes. Like Kraft, Rolf’s alternate form was a wolf. He had a decidedly predatory air about him in spite of all his joking around. Apparently, insulting Fenrir brought out some real anger in the draugr.
But what really annoyed Khent. Valentine should have been staring athim,not Rolf.
Khent cleared his throat. “The Norse are nothing but stories. Osiris, though an irksome god, I admit, represents all that is glorious in the liminality and the afterlife that is Duat. The onlyperson in the Norse pantheon who comes close to that is Hel, Rolf. And she’s difficult to work with, bothered by everyone living and dead.”
“Because people are annoying. What’s your point?”
Khent admitted, “I don’t have one, except to say my clan is much more important than yours.”
