by Raythe Reign
“Even the religious ones?” Cameron raised an eyebrow at him.
“Especially them. What’s real isn’t what they believe, is it? How many people still worship Odin or Thor? They’re fairytales now,” Liam said with a shake of his head. “I think until I actually saw them myself and Asgard that I still believed they weren’t real either.”
“Asgard … what was it like? What were the gods like?” They were crossing the cross-hatched yellow line now into the Target.
Liam’s face took on a beatific expression and Cameron knew that Asgard and its people made a huge impression on him. His heart beat a bit faster and the bitter taste of fear coated his tongue as he thought about Liam leaving him for that realm.
“It was … spectacular,” his brother confessed. “Oh, Cam, you would have loved it. You will love it. The sculpture there … it reminded me of yours. Or maybe you’re sculpting that place. It’s just that you and it are made for one another.”
“You think I can travel to Asgard?” His voice sounded a little strangled. “I’m not a Valkyrie. I’m just … mortal.”
“Valkyrie can’t go there right now. Only I can because of my heritage, the heritage that we share.”
“I can’t even imagine going to such a place. I wouldn’t know how,” Cameron said, but there was this niggling sense at the back of his mind that he could know if he just thought about it long enough.
At that moment, they heard the gasps of two boys who were lingering just outside of the Target. For one heart-pounding moment he thought they recognized Liam, but they weren’t even born when Liam had died.
“Whoa!” the one with dark brown hair and a cowlick said, pointing at Liam. “It’s Thor!”
His friend, a reedy boy with glasses that kept sliding down his nose, turned to look and he gave Liam a double-take. “Cool! Are you doing cosplay? Or are you that Chris Hemsworth guy?”
Both boys’ eyes got huge then. A movie star was far more interesting than Thor himself. Cameron covered his mouth to keep from laughing as his brother did a surprisingly good mock pose of the Thor from the Marvel movies, hands on hips, stern expression and said, “Who is this Chris Hemsworth? Does he dare dress up as the God of Thunder?”
The boys giggled and Liam shot them a grin.
“They must be filming one of those movies nearby!” one of the boys cried to the other. “We need to go find it.”
Both boys picked up their bikes, about to take off in pursuit of this mythical movie set. His brother who had been all smiles was suddenly grim-faced. He called to the two preteens.
“Boys, go to one of your homes and play,” Liam said, all the authority in his voice of an older brother and warrior. “There’s no movie set. Just go home and be safe.”
The boys both nodded and rode off slower than they had moved earlier, crestfallen that there was no movie set to go to.
“Liam, why did you ruin their fun?” Cameron asked with a frustrated shake of his head. “Don’t you remember how boring Holten is? They could have stretched out finding that ‘movie set’ for at least a week.”
His brother’s face turned towards his, but there was no abashment in his expression. “It’s not safe, Cam. The Desert Killer is back, remember? If The Gash is recreating the old deaths those boys are prime targets.”
Cameron swallowed the sudden bile that rose up in his throat. “Oh, right. Shit. I hope they do go home. Mom should make some kind of announcement or something.”
“She likely will, but she probably doesn’t want to start a panic until she knows for sure.”
“She does know its a serial killer even if she won’t believe it’s the same one.” Cameron put a shaky hand through his hair and it came back slick with cold sweat again.
Liam grasped his wrist and looked down at the pale, shaky hand that reminded Cameron of a starfish instead of his own limb. “You’re not well. I need to get you home.”
“You need clothes. We need to eat. You saw that I don’t have any food in the apartment. So Harlan’s is a good choice,” Cameron said, his voice sounding weak. “I just need to sit down and … and I’ll be okay.”
“Sit here.” Liam led him over to a bench just inside the store. He kneeled down in front of Cameron, studying his face carefully. “Look, I want you to stay here. I will go grab some clothes and food that we can take back to your place. I’ll cook for you there if you’re up to eating.”
“I want to go with you,” Cameron said and tried to rise, but his legs were trembling and Liam’s firm thrust down on his shoulders had him sitting.
“No, I’ll be right back.” Liam stood and panic flared through Cameron.
He might believe that Liam was back, but like all magic, he also believed it must be finicky, which meant that simply by letting Liam out of his sight he would lose his big brother all over again. But he knew that argument wouldn’t work with Liam so he said, “You need me to pay for your stuff. Or do Valkyrie have credit cards?”
Liam frowned. “You’re right. I’d forgotten. We do have funds we can use when necessary, but most of what we need comes from Valhalla. But you are too weak to wander around the store. Cam, I will be but a moment, I swear. I’ll be right back.”
Cameron considered this. He considered the shaky sick feeling. Liam was right.
Please, please, please be back, Liam. Don’t leave me again.
“Well, God of Thunder, here’s my wallet. If there’s not enough cash, there’s a debit card in the first pocket.” He handed his wallet to his brother with a reluctant swallow. He could already see that Liam didn’t like that Cameron was paying for him. He let out a laugh. “Liam, you’re a Valkyrie. I’m a bartender. Which one of us is more likely to have cash?”
Liam gave him a lopsided grin and then he kissed Cameron’s left temple. It was a soft peck. Something one might do to a young child or to a … lover. Cameron couldn’t quite process it. His brother was standing and heading away. Cameron counted every moment that Liam was gone. There was a clock on the wall and he didn’t take his eyes off it. He followed the second hand as it ticked its way around the dial fifteen times. Fifteen minutes and Cameron was about to get up and go searching, but then he saw Liam walking towards him in faded jeans and a white t-shirt — he was still wearing the boots that Thor lent him — with several plastic bags full of groceries and what looked like Thor’s tunic and lettings sticking out of one bag.
Relief swam through Cameron in a dizzying rush. The dizzy part was real. He clung to the edge of the bench until it passed and then he got up slowly. Liam’s concern was a like a laser beam on his skin.
“You’re right. I’m not good,” Cameron said without Liam speaking. “Home it is. Think you can fit all that in the saddlebags.”
“Think of the motorcycle like the Tardis. It’s bigger on the inside than the outside.” His brother grinned.
“Okay, of course it is! It’s magic. Just got to keep telling myself that.”
The two of them walked out to the motorcycle as quickly as Cameron could move. Liam stored the grocery sacks easily inside. They were swallowed by the saddlebags with no effort and the bags showed nothing to indicate there were tons of groceries inside.
“Very handy,” Cameron remarked. “Wish I had that for the Bopper.”
“Is the lack of storage the reason there was no food in your refrigerator?” Liam asked as he helped Cameron on the bike after seating himself.
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m a big boy who can eat take out all the time if he wants to,” Cameron remarked.
Liam snorted. “Big boys know that eating take out all the time isn’t good for them.”
“Guess you’ll have to stick around and make sure that I only do what’s good for me,” he said this last against Liam’s back. The motorcycle had already hummed to life and he wasn’t sure that Liam heard him.
The ride back to Fenrir seemed to take both a conversely long and short time. Cameron thought he might have passed out for a little bit there. Once they parked in Fenr
ir’s parking lot, Cameron couldn’t get off the bike by himself. Alarm had Liam picking him up and carrying him swiftly inside. His brother was saying something about an ambulance and Cameron might have protested. He wasn’t sure. But the moment that they entered the cool darkness that was Fenrir, he vision suddenly cleared and he had a moment of deja vu.
Sigurd — no, Loki — was standing behind the bar with a bottle of glowing mead in front of him and three glasses. The mead and his eyes were the same color, Cameron realized.
Glowing gold.
The moment that Liam saw him, his brother nearly skidded to a half. Loki smiled widely.
“Ah, Liam, so glad you’re finally with us,” Loki said. “Come. Sit. The three of us must drink and talk.”
CHAPTER TWELVE: MAGIC IS POISON
Without being told that this was Loki, Liam knew the man behind the bar wasn’t human. The gold eyes. The preternatural beauty that was almost predatory. The way he stared too long without blinking. The feeling that he didn’t need to breathe to live. The sheer otherness of him.
That otherness was something Loki shared with the other Aesir yet while Thor and the other gods he had met had tried to appear more human — perhaps to put him at ease or simply because they chose to take on human traits — Loki did not pretend to be anything other than he was.
And here he’s been and no one’s noticed. Right out in the open.
But the Gash had been out in the open, too, and no one had put its existence together either. People were blind to that which they did not wish to see.
“Liam, you really shouldn’t stare. It’s rude.” Loki lowered his head so that he was looking up at them through fair eyelashes. The gold of his irises flowed like it was molten.
Liam blinked and quickly looked away from him, but it was an effort not to glance back. Something in him wanted to stare and stare and stare at Loki even though that same something within him knew it was a bad idea.
Madness. Looking at him too long leads to madness.
“You’re staring, too, Sigurd — I mean Loki,” Cameron pointed out.
“Ah, you know my real name now.” Loki grinned.
“You would have told me it when we first met, wouldn’t you? But I told you to tell me a fake one.” Cameron raised his head up, looking sick yet amused. A sheen of cold sweat covered his face and his eyes were glassy.
“Yes, but you wouldn’t have believed it was truly me in any case,” Loki responded and spread his arms wide as if to shrug off the cosmic joke.
“No, but I might have wondered. Actually … I sort of did wonder about you.” Cameron gave a small smile.
“Yes, you did. But that’s because of your blood,” Loki responded as he slowly lowered his arms to his sides like they were wings settling down from flight.
His little brother must have noticed that Loki continued to stare at him even as he spoke to Cameron. Cameron’s voice held a sharp note as he asked, “Does Liam look familiar to you?”
“Why do you ask?” All innocence Loki.
“You’re looking at him … like you’re seeing a ghost,” Cameron answered.
Loki went very still. Those gold eyes did not blink. “In a way I am. We both are. Liam died after all.”
“But he’s back!” Cameron struck his chin out truculently despite the effort it clearly cost him to do so. It was as if he was daring Loki to disagree with that statement. It was as if he was afraid that Liam really wasn't back, at least not for good. Liam's heart hurt at what his loss over these years had taken from Cameron.
“Yes, yes, of course,” Loki said placatingly. Their eyes met and Liam knew that the hurt from him loss was likely far greater than he knew yet.
“Cam, we really need to get you upstairs. You need to rest,” Liam said and started towards the closed door that opened into the stairwell. He would take care of his little brother now. It might not make up for what Cameron had lost, but he was going to try anyways.
Loki held up a hand, which had Liam slowing though not stopping his forward momentum. “Bring him here.”
“He needs to rest,” Liam said firmly.
Loki cocked his head to the side as if regarding something interesting or amusing or maybe both. “You want him to get better, yes?”
“Of course! That’s why I’m —”
“Then bring. Him. Here,” Loki paused after each word to give them emphasis. He pointed to two bar stools directly in front of him and the bottle of mead and glasses.
“It’s okay, Liam. We can trust him.” Cameron placed a trembling hand on Liam’s forearm.
“He didn’t even tell you who he really was, Cam.” Liam was frowning.
Cameron surprisingly smiled. “Only because I asked him not to. Besides I’m not sure lying down is going to do much good.” He paused for a moment and added with a pleased grin, “You have this look on your face right now.”
“What look? The one that says my little brother is sick and I want to take care of him look?” Liam growled as he narrowed his eyes. Cameron was always being difficult when he was sick, wanting to play, wanting to push himself too hard as if to dare the sickness within him to fight back.
Cameron’s smile grew. “Yeah, that one.” Almostly shyly, he murmured, “I thought I remembered all your looks, but I’m finding that I didn’t remember you half so well as I thought.”
A tremor went through Liam then. There was so much forlornness in that statement. “I’m sorry I stayed away, Cam.”
Cameron blinked and looked up. “You could have come back sooner?”
Shame followed that tremor. “I … we’re not supposed to interact with our families.”
“But you’re doing it now,” Cameron pointed out softly.
“Because …”
Because you saw it was me? Because I love you so much that I’d break any rule to be with you? Because I couldn’t stay away in the end?
“You mustn’t blame him, Cameron. It wasn’t time for him to be here. Time for immortals is different,” Loki spoke up in Liam’s defense which surprised him. “It unfurls far more easily and gets away from us.”
Liam lifted his head to look at the Aesir with the unnerving gold eyes. Loki was no longer looking at either him or Cameron, but was staring down at the decanter of glowing mead. He was clearly thinking of someone else.
Is it Thor? Is your mind on him after all these years? But you left him, Loki …
“Bring Cameron here, Liam. He will feel better after he’s had some mead. Please, I would not have either of you in pain for longer than is necessary,” Loki murmured.
Longer than necessary? Does that mean there’s more pain to come to us?
Liam found himself walking over to the bar without hesitation this time. “Do you really know what’s wrong with him? Can you heal him?”
“I’m okay. I mean I’ll be okay,” Cameron protested weakly.
“You’re not okay, but you will be okay,” Liam promised even as a trickle of fear ran through him at seeing Cameron so sick. As a child, his little brother had rarely gotten ill and this sickness had come on so suddenly and strongly.
Liam stepped up to the bar. He gently set Cameron up on one of the barstools and braced him by standing behind him and holding onto Cameron’s trim waist. Cameron leaned back against his front. Liam held him tightly not just because he needed to in order to keep Cameron upright, but because it felt so right to have his little brother against him. He wondered if he should touch Cameron less after what they had almost done the night before, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He couldn’t push Cameron away when his little brother seemed to thrive with his touch.
And I feel so much more alive than I have in ages being near him like this.
“Despite looking like death warmed over, Cameron, you appear to be a very happy young man.” Loki poured a glass of the glowing mead and pushed it so that it was directly in front of his Cameron.
Cameron raised an eyebrow at the drink and said, “The last thing I need is more
alcohol.”
Loki’s smile widened and he tapped the lip of the glass. “Trust me. You need this.”
Liam watched Loki carefully. He then turned his attention back to Cameron. “Cam, drink it.”
Loki’s eyes widened and a disbelieving huff of laughter escaped him. “You trust me?”
“No, but you’re telling the truth that he needs this,” Liam answered.
Cameron grimaced, but picked up the glass and took a small sip. That small sip was suddenly replaced by a large swallow. Cameron then drank the entire glass down and thrust it towards Loki. The Aesir was about to pour some for himself and Liam, but Cameron — normally polite — wanted to be served again.
“More,” he grunted.
Loki obliging filled up the glass again and Cameron drank it down. He held the decanter still.
“Whoa, Cam! Take it easy there,” Liam cautioned.
But for a second time Cameron thrust out his glass. Loki poured out only a splashful into it for which Liam was grateful. He didn't want his brother vomiting as well as feverish.
“Why are you being so stingy —” Cameron began mulishly.
“Trust me. You don’t need more. You haven’t given what you’ve already drunk a chance to fully work on you,” Loki soothed. “There is such a thing as too much of a good thing, you know.”
Cameron cradled the glass against his chest like it was a precious treasure even as he continued to stare at the decanter of mead longingly. Loki took the decanter off the bar and secreted it in a freezer chest. Liam was slightly unnerved to see how his brother tracked Loki’s movements. He was certain the moment Loki was out of the room that Cameron would be going after that decanter. Cameron took a tiny sip of the small amount of mead left in his glass and gave out a sigh.