The Banished Gods Box Set: Books 1-3

by L. A. McGinnis

  He straightened and stepped away first, those blue eyes darkening, his expression carefully blank. Shit. She hurried to add, “But it’s not a problem. Like I said, I’m good at keeping secrets.”

  “You might be inclined to tell a friend.”

  “I haven’t got any friends.”

  “You might tell someone…”

  Morgane stifled a bitter laugh. If he only knew. “Look. I don’t do friendships. I definitely don’t have a ‘someone’.” She looked around for her jacket and saw the shredded mess of black in the corner. “There isn’t anyone, Loki. It’s just me.” Because everyone else is dead.

  Right about then, all she wanted was to walk out and keep on walking, but her knees were still too shaky to make it down the hallway. “I know how this works, maybe better than you. I get through my days so I can go out and fight at night and hope I make it home. That’s all.” When she said that word—hope—his eyes met hers and held. For a long, long moment, all they did was stare at each other. She waited for the moment, the emotion, the flicker of heated attraction to fade away. Instead, it flared brighter. Hotter.

  Shivering, she felt the darkness inside of her reach out to him.

  Maybe it was her imagination, but she swore a featherlight touch from him brushed up against her, questing. It felt fathomless, ancient. The silence stretched out endlessly between them before he finally asked, “No one at all?”

  She felt like a fool as she shook her head, tugging the huge shirt farther down over her hips.

  “Not a single someone?” He cocked his head, the furrows deepening between his eyebrows.

  “It wouldn’t be smart for anyone to know what I’m doing. It wouldn’t be safe to let anyone get close enough to figure out what I’m doing. Those things wipe out people every single night. Do you seriously believe I’d give them one more reason to kill? Not to mention someone I liked? Plus, if any sane person discovered how I lived, I’d end up in the nuthouse.” She willed herself to calm down, forced herself to stop trembling. “So I stick to a couple of simple rules. I keep to myself. I stay away from others. And I focus on what I came here to do, and nothing else.”

  Loki shook his head in disbelief. “And that’s hunting and killing demons? Who stitches you up when things go south? What happens if…”

  Morgane glanced away. He didn’t have to finish. Sure, there were nights, sometimes, when she wondered if it might be her last. Morgane kept her shrug casual. “Then it’s over. But I’ve killed over a three hundred and fifty of those little bastards, and I figure I got another three hundred in me.”

  “Three hundred? Damn it, Morgane…” Loki trailed off as the door swung open and Mir stepped in. Loki stuck out his hand. “Gimme the keys, Doc. I’m taking the Audi. Gonna get her home before she falls over.”

  “You got it, my man. Don’t forget to wipe her mind, you hear me?” Mir’s gaze was calculating as he followed the arc of the keys through the air. “Drive safe.”

  Loki caught the keys mid-stride, helped her up, and supported her with a firm arm around her waist before they walked onto the slowest elevator ever.

  She leaned her back into the wall opposite him, admiring the burled wood, the beveled mirrors, the art déco inlay, and huffed out a laugh. “I swear I dreamt I was flying for a little while. But I thought it was a dream.”

  He fixed that penetrating stare on her, and she wondered if he could hear her heart beating a mile a minute. “That would have been the freight elevator, it’s faster. I keep telling Odin we gotta get this one fixed.”

  “So who’s Odin?”

  He shook his head.

  “I see. Well, can you at least tell me where we are?”

  Again with the negatory head shake.

  She sighed. “Fine. As long as you don’t put a bag over my head and get me home in one piece, I’ll owe you one. I suppose if you ever need anything, at least you’ll know where to find me.” But you never will, she realized, though it was probably for the best. “I’ll give this back to you.” Morgane smoothed down the oversized pullover.

  “Nah, keep it, I got more. I’ll need your address.” When Morgane gave it to him, he arched his eyebrows but said nothing, loaded her into a shiny black sedan in an underground garage, and a minute later they turned left onto Michigan as dawn broke over the lake. Forty minutes later, pulling up in front of the dilapidated building, Loki pushed a small bag into her hands. “Mir sent this along for you, just in case. You won’t need much, and don’t overdo it, the stuff’s powerful.”

  Loki hesitated, emotions waging war on his face as he stared at her, one hand on the wheel, the other one hovering in the air right above her head. Finally, his fingers curled in on themselves, and his hand fell into his lap. “Damn it, I just can’t do it.”

  “Do what? What can’t you do?” Morgane felt like her eyes were too big for her face. There wasn’t enough room in the car, or enough air in the world right now for the two of them.

  “I can’t take anything else away from you.” Loki’s jaw clenched. As if he were fighting a war within himself. His next words were barely a whisper. “Not when you’ve lost so much already.”

  Morgane gripped the bag in her lap. Before she lost her courage, she wrapped an arm around his neck, leaned into him, and gave him a quick squeeze, feeling the rasp of whiskers against her cheek. “Thank you for saving me last night, Loki.”

  Her arm slid away, but before she released him completely, he pulled her back against him, and she was pressed tightly against pure, honed muscle. “Be careful out there, Morgane.” She swore his face buried itself into her hair, and he pulled in a deep breath before he released her. Then she was out of the car and standing in the cool damp, watching the red lights vanish into the dark.

  Somehow, when she closed the apartment door behind her, the shoebox seemed especially pathetic.

  6

  He’d never see the girl again.

  If she was truly human, her days of fighting the Grim were numbered. If she’d lied to him and was a halfling, a hybrid, or even some rogue immortal, he’d be forced to hunt her down and drag her back here to appear before Odin for judgement.

  Being brought before Odin was as good as dying, so she’d be dead either way.

  Surprised, Loki realized he was actually feeling something about this whole thing. Regret? Maybe. Resentment? Possibly. Anger, most definitely.

  For longer than he could remember, he’d felt nothing. Until tonight, when he’d picked Morgane up off the pavement. Rubbing his chest, he realized he’d missed this, even as pain burned fiery hot.

  And the strangest thing?

  There had been a moment, a second really, when something blossomed between them. Some sort of strange, lonely communion. As if they were the same. Hoping that what they were doing would fix everything in their screwed up lives.

  As if revenge and killing would bring everything and everyone back to them. And if he were a betting man? He’d wager she was every bit as lonely as he was.

  Loki took the steps two at a time, swearing for the thousandth time he’d rather hoof it than wonder if the elevator would ever get to the top.

  The place felt nearly empty, everyone still out on rotation, paired up by twos, hunting the city, wiping out the vermin. He hoped he could sneak back in unnoticed. He almost made it. Almost. Past the infirmary, where Mir was still cleaning up her sweet-smelling blood, past the War Room, strewn with maps and weapons and half empty cups of coffee. He kept going, past the commissary, the library, and the tech room, humming with stacks of servers and walls of monitors, each showing a different quadrant of the city in gritty black and white. He kept his face averted as he stalked past the Great Hall, reluctantly slowing when the voice boomed out at him. “What happened out there tonight? In my city?”

  Loki stopped, turned, braced himself, and maybe even welcomed it.

  A fight was what he needed. Maybe Odin was the person to give it to him. He turned into Odin’s cavernous Great Hall. He hated thi
s fucking place. It reeked of power and arrogance and straight up narcissism. But he kept his voice level. “I take it Mir talked to you?”

  “Yes, Mir told me everything. What were you thinking? Tyr radioed in before you even got back, said the human you found might be the one hunting my streets.” The harsh lines etched into Odin’s face promised vengeance.

  “She might be, at that.”

  The dead silence, which greeted that little statement, told him how deep in he was.

  “And? Why is she not on her knees in front of me, awaiting my judgment? Why is she not anywhere in this building? Out of all of them, I never guessed it would be you who’d go soft on me…traitor.” Odin, aka Father of Everything, shook his head in disgust. Silvery-white hair, worthy of any Viking, was pulled back in a silver crown, and eyes of the same color raked Loki over. His powerful, muscled body was reclined in semi-repose onto his golden throne, his hand dangling carelessly over one knee. “Do we have a problem?”

  “No, we do not have a problem.”

  “And if I told you to end her?” Loki’s mere second of hesitation gave Odin his answer. The corners of his mouth turned upward in a cruel, knowing smile. “There, you see? I think we have a problem after all. I think we have a big problem. Mir said she was beautiful. When’s the last time you had a woman?”

  None of your goddamn business. “About two days ago. I’m good.”

  “Indeed? Tell me about this female. How is it she’s on my streets fighting Grim? How does she even see them? How the hell has she lasted two entire years?”

  Cursing Doc’s big mouth, Loki answered, trying to not to appear as pissed off as he was. “I ran a background on her and her story checked out. Looks like they killed her family two years ago. So she came back here for revenge. It appears she’s…fully human, if you can believe it.”

  “I can’t. How is she still alive? Unless she’s not your average mortal? A halfling, perhaps? A hybrid out of New York, hoping to make the big time?”

  The way the bastard lounged on his fucking throne made him look like he owned the entire world. To make matters worse, this was probably a trap because with Odin, there was always a catch. Except for once, Loki didn’t care. “No, none of those. She’s mortal. Only difference is, she’s tougher and smarter, and she doesn’t believe she has anything to lose. My guess is, her skill set improves every night she goes out. She’s got the marks to show for it, though. Probably not as fast as she should be and…”

  “Please tell me I am not sensing some misplaced admiration here?” Odin sat back and lowered his eyelids until it almost looked like he was asleep. Except he wasn’t. He saw things clearer this way, saw straight through anyone, even another god. Even Loki, who decided against his better judgment, in this situation the truth was the way to go.

  Someday, he swore, he might stop being stupid.

  Today was not that day.

  “Yeah, I do. She’s killed three hundred and fifty Grim. Which is half as one of us in the same time, but damn, that’s impressive. And she’s done it on her own. Don’t know what type of weaponry she’s using, but she’s obviously figured out plain steel won’t cut it, pardon the pun.” As Odin sat still as a statue, he blundered on. “She’s a solo operator, but she’s careful. If she were predictable, they would have found her by now. But they haven’t. She lives in the shittiest part of town, which means if the Grim don’t get her, her fellow man probably will.”

  “Such passion, when I’m unused to hearing anything from you except indifference.” Odin’s knowing smile turned impossibly cruel. “How long has it been since you’ve felt anything at all? Since you burned our world to ash, perhaps?”

  Loki winced at that. To tell the truth, he didn’t remember. For years, he lived to hunt and the satisfaction he got from killing had been his bread and butter. He rubbed his sternum again. Analyzing this new, strange tingling in his chest was…discomfiting. Affection? No, but from the moment he’d touched her, he’d definitely felt…something.

  “I honestly do not know.”

  “I think it’s time you found out. Find out exactly why she’s here, hunting in my city. Figure out how she can see Hel’s demons, when the spell on them specifically renders them invisible to the human eye.” He leaned forward, silver eyes narrowing. “But most of all, figure out why she’s different from any other human on this planet.”

  “Bring me back answers, son.” The look on Odin’s face offered him no alternative but to obey. “Or bring me her head. I don’t care which.”

  “Maybe I need to get my shirt back,” Loki proposed by way of a peace offering.

  “Maybe you do.” Odin leaned back, his face shuttered.

  And with that, the audience was over.

  7

  Morgane was lying in her bed, face down in Loki’s shirt, breathing in his scent.

  He smelled of the mountains, she decided. Of long views and granite cliffs and deep, pine forests heavy with fog. Of somewhere she might like to stay for a very, very long time.

  The local had long since worn off, and her back and shoulder twinged off and on. But whatever magic Mir performed had worked. She felt almost as good as new. Except for this crushing loneliness threatening to consume her. She drew the scent of him in again. Rain. Yeah, if it was raining in the mountains, then that was what he smelled like. She sighed. Too bad she’d never see him again. Too damn bad, she thought, warm and practically comfortable, drifting in this lovely place between waking and sleeping, a faint, bothersome noise whining far off in the distance.

  At first, she figured the annoying sound was part of her dream, at least until the screaming started.

  The claws grating against her steel door were the second, big giveaway it was time to wake up. Rolling out of bed, her brain struggling to catch up, she knew she had seconds to get to her weapons before those serrated claws cut through the steel door. Of course, after the cluster fuck of the previous night, her two favorite long knives were still in the locker at Union Station. But she had backups.

  She only needed a minute to dig them out.

  Pawing through boxes, she heaved gear out of her way, watching with one eye as the steel bent inwards, claw marks pushing through the metal while she dug faster and faster. With no time to throw anything on, it looked like she’d be fighting in her undies. At least they almost matched. The roar of a Harley outside bought her a few precious seconds before the creatures went back to their attack with renewed gusto.

  The sound of shredding metal filled the shoebox, and she laid her palm on the handle of her knife just as the razor tip of a claw tore an opening, followed by an arm, then a set of snapping jaws. Within seconds, the fetid stench of demon breath filled the space.

  Loosing a curse about how they had found her, Morgane spun around, knives in both hands. The first one went down quickly. She lopped the head off as soon as it squeezed far enough through the narrow slit, along with its leading arm. The second one was smarter, taking its good old time. It crept through the fissure, claws cleaving the opening wider, while extending its jaws like a viper’s, so vast she couldn’t reach past those teeth with her short knife in the cramped quarters. She was forced to stay to the side, pushed back, trapped between its head and the wall, it’s eye gyrating an inch away, the long, black teeth snapping and clicking. It couldn’t bite her, but it could hold her in place while it went to work on her torso with those claws. Blindly, Morgane slashed and stabbed, trying to stay outside the thing’s teeth, when suddenly it was…gone.

  One second it was right in front of her. Next? The room was empty, as if the thing had been sucked out through the opening. And she was left alone, looking at the withering head and arm of the first demon. Panting, she crouched with the knife, waiting to slice off the first thing poking through that hole.

  The voice she heard was the last one she expected. It sounded...worried. Maybe even hopeful. “Morgane? Are you in there? Are you hurt?”

  She flipped the locks. What was left of the door swung
open and there, on her threshold, stood the only man to ever make her feel a goddamn thing. And he’d saved her ass. “Holy shit, Loki. You have awesome timing.” Oh wait, she realized — a second too late — when the blast of cold air hit her, she was standing in front of him in her undies. Thank God they matched. Almost.

  He eyed the hefty door appreciatively. “Steel? Smart. At least it slowed them down.” Loki turned and shut the door, his mouth tightening into a thin line. “This place is well secured. I’m surprised they managed to track you.”

  “Yeah, obviously I’ve been here too long.” Spinning around, she busied herself digging for something to put over her body. Her formerly pristine body. What she really needed to do was cover it all up. Before Mr. Perfection got the full Monty.

  “Morgane?”

  She dug faster. Seriously, she had to do something about her organizational system. It sucked. “Damn it, Morgane. Stop.” While she was grateful he saved her, she did mind he was staring straight at her ruined flesh.

  “Give me a second. I’ve got to find something to…”

  She twisted in surprise at the warm, strong hand grasping her arm, but not as much as the expression on his face when she met him face to face. He looked hungry. Ravenous, actually.

  “I said stop. And I meant stop.” And like that, the world stilled. The moment she stared into those eyes, the most incredible thing occurred. She felt something. Heat bloomed inside her, rose and crackled into this magical thing that people waxed poetic over, licked hot flames up into her spine before burning lower. And lower still until the feeling became an aching grind.

  The click of a key in a lock. The need to feel that lock spring open.

  God, so was this what all the fuss was about?

  Morgane’s knees wobbled, his hand on her arm becoming a lifeline to which she clung. “Loki…I...I...” For the life of her, she couldn’t form a coherent sentence.