by Kendall Grey
He hefts Huginn and turns him so the bird is beak-to-nose with him. “And we’re gonna bring home the crown, aren’t we, Huginn?”
Squark!
I squeeze Darryl’s heavily muscled forearm. “I have faith in you and Freddie. Thanks for keeping the bird company.”
He opens his mouth to protest, but I duck out before he has the chance. When I return to my room, Gunnar Magnusson is brushing his teeth. Standing by one of the beds, I try not to stare, but I can’t help it. He’s as beautiful from the back angle as he is from the front. He spits, wipes his mouth and beard, and catches my eye in the mirror.
“What’s next?” he asks my reflection.
“Million-dollar question,” I say. “Damien embedded Othala in his ring and shielded its signature with magic similar to the kind Frigg used on her necklace to hide Kenaz.” I tense and look away.
Why do I cringe every time Saga comes up in conversation between us?
Because you care about Gunnar, and what transpired between them hurts, Laguz says. Just as you hurt Sigyn repeatedly with Angrboda.
“You don’t have to be a dick about it,” I say. “I know what I did.”
Gunnar Magnusson turns around and shrinks back from me. Pain and confusion scrunch his brow. “What?”
What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, Laguz taunts.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” I say to Gunnar Magnusson. “And you, Laguz, are welcome to take a sleeping pill at your earliest convenience.”
Hmpf, the rune says.
Gunnar Magnusson tosses the hand towel onto the counter and sits on the bed. I join him.
“In addition to the aura concealment magic,” I say, “Damien cast a protective spell over the ring to keep me from stealing it. It’s permanently attached to his finger. He said not even he can break the spell. The only way to get it off is to cut it off.”
Gunnar Magnusson frowns. “That seems rather drastic.”
“Angrboda’s a goddess. It’ll probably grow back.”
“Probably? You can’t go around chopping off people’s fingers on the off chance they might grow back.”
“She’s not a person. She’s a giant. The Witch of Ironwood. And she has my rune. That’s all the permission I need to chop off fingers, toes, and any other body parts I want.”
“There must be another way around this. What if you employed some magic of your own?” he asks. “Fight fire with fire?”
“I don’t have any, aside from my charming personality and effusive intuition, whose advice I rarely heed.”
Laguz zaps me like a smack on the arse. The bastard.
“Alex, then?”
“His powers may not be up to the same potency as Damien’s.” Not without the gemstones from his hat.
“It’s worth a try. Unless you have another idea.”
It dawns on me that Othala isn’t nearly as important at this juncture as my immortality rune Ihwaz is, and considering my looming deadline the day after tomorrow, if I don’t at least get a clue where to look for the latter, the former won’t do a dead Loki any favors.
I turn my thoughts to Laguz. Do you have a feel for where Ihwaz might be? Anything at all?
Oh, I’m sorry. Is that my alarm clock? Time to wake up? So soon after I took my sleeping pill? The rune makes a yawning sound in my head. I’m SO tired.
I apologize for getting snippy, I think, soundly chastened after smarting off. I’m just highly allergic to dying, and I don’t want to break out into hives in front of Gunnar Magnusson. You know anaphylactic shock and blotchy spots look terrible on my fair skin.
I wish I had better news. Laguz’s snarky tone drifts south to somber. The only other runes I clearly sense, aside from myself and Kenaz, are the ones in your bag. The way to Ihwaz is through Othala. It’s all we have to go on at the moment.
I face Gunnar Magnusson. “Damien is my only lead.”
He inhales a deep breath and lets it out. “Then we go to him. And we take Othala by force.”
Who is this new Gunnar Magnusson, and where has he been all my life? I’m eager to get chopping.
“We’ll need a knife,” I say, looking around the hotel room. Nothing close to a sharp object anywhere in sight. “I suppose I can steal one from a grocery store or a biker gang.”
Gunnar Magnusson grimaces. “You won’t find a knife in either of those places, and we’re not cutting any fingers off.”
“Why not? I poked out Heimdall’s eyes. Twice.” I proudly hold up two fingers.
“I don’t want to see you hauled off to jail again. You did that twice too, remember?”
I purse my lips. “What do you propose then, softie?”
“You’re not gonna like it.”
“Hit me. I can take it.”
“You and Alex are gonna turn invisible, go to Drakkar’s room while he’s sleeping, and see if Alex can break the spell with his magic. It’s the only option we have.”
The thought of returning to Damien’s place gives me the willies. “I don’t want to.”
“Do you want your rune?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s that or wait until we think of a better plan. Either way, the pageant ends on Tuesday. Once it’s over, Drakkar will be gone. Unless you have access to his personal calendar or plan to stalk him 24/7, you’re unlikely to find him. These rich TV stars have mastered the art of evasion thanks to paparazzi and crazed fans. He won’t make it easy to track him down. You know where he is now. Use that knowledge. You may not have another chance.”
I won’t be able to resist him if he wakes up. I know I won’t.
“I can do it tomorrow,” I stammer.
He shakes his head. “Tonight. While he sleeps. It’s your best shot.”
“Alex is probably throwing his leg over Freddie. I don’t want to bother them.”
“I will.” He pulls out his cell, pushes some buttons, and holds the phone to his ear. A few seconds later, he says into the receiver, “Hey, Alex. I’ve got a favor to ask on behalf of Loki. Would you be willing to go with her to Drakkar’s hotel and see if you can break the spell on his ring? … Tonight. … She’ll be ready to leave whenever you are. … I understand that, but would you at least give it a try? … Uh-huh. … Okay. Come over whenever you’re ready. Thanks, Alex.” He ends the call.
Ice water floods my veins.
“I’ll drive,” he says. “It might help if you wear something that exposes more skin.”
Kenaz perks up.
Amused and slightly turned on, I say, “Are you trying to get me naked? I wouldn’t mind, but—”
His cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. “I meant it’ll give Alex and me better access to keep us invisible.”
“Wait. You’re going too?” I ask.
“Unless you don’t want me to.”
“I want you to.” I say quickly. Hope rises within me like a helium balloon. Just the thought of Gunnar Magnusson’s skin on mine calms my galloping heart. Maybe if he’s close, I’ll be better equipped to fight Damien Drakkar’s sex magic, should it become an issue. “I need you to.”
He stands and unbuckles his belt. He slips the leather thong out of its loops and wraps the strap around my wrist as if trying out an idea.
I get goofy in the knickers and arch an eyebrow. “Kinky.”
He stifles a smile, shakes his head, and winds the belt around his wrist. He tightens it until our skin is touching and latches the buckle. “This should keep us in constant contact.”
“And here I thought you were getting adventurous.” I coax my features into an overly dramatic tragedy mask and point at it. “This is my disappointed face.”
He blushes. A knock at the door diverts his attention, and he opens it.
Alex fills the frame and meets my eyes. Understanding passes between us. Alex will do his best to knock out Damien’s magic, and I’ll do my best not to have an earth-shattering orgasm.
Gunnar Magnusson retrieves another belt from his suitcase and holds
it up. “Who’s up for a jailbreak?”
“And a giant smackdown,” Alex adds with a pointed grin.
I throw my good arm up with a finger pointing to the ceiling and yell, “This girl!”
Chapter Twenty-One
After midnight, Monday/Moon’s Day
Cloaked by the power of my invisibility rune stave, I listen at the door to Damien’s hotel room. Gunnar Magnusson and Alex are bound to my arms with belts to maintain skin-to-skin contact. If either of them breaks it, they’ll become visible. Here’s to group hugs!
It’s a few minutes past one a.m. I hope Damien Drakkar is sleeping. That would make our mission quick and easy. I can’t hear anything from the other side of the door, but I listen for a few minutes to be sure.
Nothing.
“Ready?” I whisper to my friends.
“Yes,” they say.
Steeling my wits, I flex my back muscles to trigger Lásabrjótur’s itchy unlocking power. The tumblers shift. I pull the handle and peek inside through the crack. I can’t see into the bedroom, but there’s no indication Damien’s awake. I push the door open. Gunnar Magnusson and Alex shuffle in quietly behind me. Walking as one is awkward. We must work fast.
We pad over the soft carpet to the bedroom. The door is shut. I lean close and listen again. Hearing no sound, I slowly turn the knob just as movement of fabric and footsteps warn of someone approaching from the other side. I shove Gunnar Magnusson and Alex back, and the three of us scramble to get out of Damien’s path as he exits the room.
He’s buck naked.
And apparently, he’s not alone.
“Hurry back, baby,” a nasally female voice whines. I’m not sure, but I think it’s his redheaded assistant.
Gunnar Magnusson, Alex, and I flatten our spines to the wall as Damien swaggers through the living space to the minifridge. He leans over but pauses when his fingers brush the handle. Turning his head a couple inches to the side, he drawls, “Loki. So good to see you again.”
WHAT? There’s no way he can see through my rune stave’s invisibility magic.
He didn’t look directly at us, Laguz says. I don’t think he knows exactly where we are. He could be using scent to identify you, though. We already know his sex magic is powerful.
If I remain silent and still, maybe he won’t be able to tag our location. I tighten my grip on my friends.
Damien returns to the fridge and moves some drinks around inside it. The sex magic and pheromones emanating off his skin do a dirty number on traitorous Kenaz. The flavor—the essence of Angrboda—sinks into my flesh, and I swoon. I cannot resist her. Not then, and not now.
I want her. Bad.
I take a step forward.
Gunnar Magnusson winds his fingers between mine and tugs me back to him. I close my eyes and focus on his touch and his scent, trying to break free of Angrboda’s spell.
Angrboda is poison. Gunnar Magnusson is salvation. In my head, I repeat the mantra over and over until I hear Damien shut the minifridge. I open my eyes.
Looking beyond us, he scans the room. I hold my breath.
“I didn’t expect you to come back so soon,” he intones, stepping slowly as if navigating pools of lava spitting fire and poisonous gases. His head swings with calculated motions. His nostrils flare. He’s looking for us. “You must forgive me. As I’m sure you remember, my sexual appetite is strong. Since you refused me, I was forced to turn elsewhere to satisfy my hunger.”
He wanders past us. I keep holding my breath. One wrong move, and we’re done for.
“However, I can evict my house guests in the blink of an eye if you’re willing to entertain me instead,” Damien continues.
Guests? As in plural? I suppose some things never change. Angrboda was a voracious lover when I knew her. Apparently, that trait was passed on to her human form as well.
He turns in a circle, eyes sharp and probing every corner. “I have your rune. I know you want it, and I’m willing give it to you for a small price.”
If not for Gunnar Magnusson tightening his grip on my hand, I’d have shoved my friends off and launched myself into Damien’s arms. The promises of Othala and wild monkey sex are too much to resist.
Patience, Laguz says. Let’s hear what he wants before you go jumping into the hot spring with him. He said he can’t remove the spell without cutting off his finger. I doubt he’ll do that.
Damien waits for a response Gunnar Magnusson and Laguz won’t let me give. He zeroes in on the space a few feet away from us. So close. But not quite on target.
“You want me. You’ve always wanted me. And you could never resist me, not even when your whore wife begged you to stay with her,” Damien mocks.
I open my mouth to defend Sigyn’s honor, but Laguz snaps it shut with a gentle zap to the hip.
“All you have to do to get your precious little rune back is comply with my wishes,” he goes on. “Submit. Give me your body for one night. Conceive a son—or a daughter—to rival our other beautiful children who were maligned through no fault of their own, and Othala is yours. It’s our duty as their parents to claim vengeance for how they were treated. Cast away like common thugs by Odin, Thor, and their ilk. It was an insult to our names and their legacies. The Æsir owe us.
“And in case you need a little more incentive, I’ll also give you a head start on where to look for the rune you really want: Ihwaz.”
My heart dances like it’s the end of the world. Because without Ihwaz, it will be on Tuesday.
I have less than twenty-four hours. Damien is my only lead.
But conceive a child? That’s a big ol’ wrecking ball of nope. Been there, done that. I can’t cut another Fenrir or Jormundgandr or Hel loose on the world. They would destroy everyone and everything. Much as I love chaos and mischief, I may have actually learned my lesson since the last time I cleaned house on the planet. You can’t make trouble without pawns, and Midgardians play the role with admirable aplomb.
And selfishly, I want Gunnar Magnusson, not Damien Dipshit Drakkar.
Damien’s gaze falls to the wall beside me and fixes there. His pupils dilate, filling his intoxicating green irises with black. Seconds later, his scent creeps toward me again, and I’m mesmerized. I lose track of my purpose, my goals, my loyalties. On either side of me, Gunnar Magnusson and Alex squeeze my hands to the brink of pain.
I must have Othala. I must have Ihwaz. I must have Damien Drakkar.
“I see you’re playing shy, you dirty girl,” the fiend says smugly.
Kenaz forces my gaze down to the point betwixt his legs. Saliva surges into my mouth, and the promise of sex swirls in my brain.
I could have a baby. I did it once as a horse. Birthing a two-legged child would be a piece of piss. This one might even turn out better than the three Angrboda and I made before. A sweet little hellion could bring me the sense of belonging I’ve sought all my life but never found. He or she could help me wage war on Odin, Frigg, Heimdall, and any other Asgardian stupid enough to get in our way. I could introduce the kid to my daughter Hel, queen of the underworld. Perhaps we could partner with her. And find her wayward brothers. They must be around here somewhere.
One big happy family.
I’ve never had one of those, but I’ve secretly always wanted one.
That’s Kenaz talking, Laguz whispers inside my head.
Oh, shut up, I tell it. You’re jealous of Kenaz because it has more fun than you. You’re too concerned with slowing things down. All I want is to speed up. Let the future fly off the spinning wheel and see where it lands. I’m not afraid.
Yes, you are, my party pooper rune argues. You’re terrified. Look at yourself. Considering partnering with a monster from your past when everything you’ve ever needed is standing beside you. Snap out of this foolishness, and for once in your life, do the right thing, Loki!
I don’t want to do the right thing, I snap. I want to do the fun thing. The wild thing. The thing that will honor my name and bring me greatne
ss.
And what happened last time you earned “greatness” with your deeds? the voice asks.
My deeds are as immortal as I am, I think. I’m not as afraid of dying as I am of being forgotten.
You’re about to do both because you’re too stubborn to listen to reason, Laguz snarls. Take a breath. Get Gunnar and Alex out of here and regroup. You’re a mess.
I’m offended Laguz would say such a thing about my mental state. I’m quite in my right mind.
“Join me, and I’ll return you to greatness. All you have to do is say yes,” Damien coos like a song.
Yes. Yes. A thousand times, yes.
Damien ambles toward the bedroom, tight arse snagging my attention. He pauses and turns. “My offer stands until the pageant wraps on Tuesday. Then I’m closing shop, Loki. Don’t keep me waiting.”
Beyond the door, I see two naked women sitting up in bed, giggling with their backs against the headboard. The redhead assistant says, “What took you so long? We were getting cold without you.”
Damien’s gloriously naked body fills the frame. He holds the bottles he fished out of the refrigerator aloft and tosses them at the women like bones to mutts. They fumble to catch the drinks.
He faces me once more, this time nailing my location exactly, and says, “See you soon, Loki.” Then he turns to his companions. “Where were we?”
The door slams behind him. Too bad it didn’t smack him on his bare, bitable arse.
I quietly release the breath I’ve been holding. Without a word, Alex drags Gunnar Magnusson and me out of the room as Damien’s sex fog clears from my head. We stay invisible until we reach the car parked in the garage.
Gunnar Magnusson unwinds the belts lashing us together and says, “Houston, we have a problem.”
“Who’s Houston?” I look around.
“It’s an expression,” Gunnar Magnusson says as he opens the passenger-side door for me. Alex climbs in behind me.
We speed out of the parking deck and head toward our hotel. “We have to corner him alone so Alex can cast a spell to get the ring.”
“Without my hat, I’m not sure I can do that,” Alex sighs.