by C. Gockel
“Of course she’s not the enemy,” says Bohdi, hands still in the air. Dipping his chin, looking like a guilty puppy, he clears his throat. “I mean, recruiting may be her job, but it doesn’t make her a bad person. Ama-chan is very sweet.” Dropping his arms, he looks at the floor and taps his chin. “A little weird … but sweet.”
Sigyn bolts upright. “Ama-chan? You call her Ama-chan?”
“Um,” says Bohdi.
Pointing at the tablet, Sigyn says, “Before Odin ordered all magical creatures to leave Earth, this woman was worshiped by the Japanese as goddess of the sun. She is Amaterasu, sister to the Queen of the Light Elves, one of the most powerful enchantresses in the Nine Realms, and you call her Ama-chan? Do you realize how familiar and inappropriate that is?”
Bohdi turns to Steve, eyes wide and pleading. “I didn’t know! We met at a bar, my sublet was ending … ” He does a little wobbly thing with his head, and looks at the ceiling. “Okay, I neglected to pay my rent … But she said I could stay at her place.”
Crossing his arms, Steve resists the urge to swat him on the back of his head. “And that didn’t seem at all weird to you?”
Bohdi shrugs. “Of course it seemed weird. But it also seemed free. She said she wanted us to be friends, and that she hoped someday I could love her like a sister … and then she said she had to go back to Japan since her country’s enemies were rising. She actually offered to take me with her if I wanted.” He looks back up at the ceiling. “Actually, that is really weird.” He shrugs again and meets Steve’s eyes. “But it’s a really nice place—her apartment, I mean, though I’ve heard Japan’s great, too, if a little xenophobic—and she didn’t force me to go to Japan so … ”
Steve rubs his forehead. Only Bohdi …
Picking up the tablet, Sigyn steps closer to the kid. “She had a brother a long time ago. His name was Susanoo. The Japanese believed he was the god of storms and the sea.”
Bohdi blinks. “An incarnation of Thor?”
“No,” Sigyn says. “Susanoo was no hero. He was very violent and destructive.” She turns to Steve and meets his eyes.
In that moment Steve knows Sigyn knows exactly who, or what, Bohdi is. For a moment Steve’s heart stops. And then she says, “Odin must never know.” She hands Steve the tablet. “The secret identity is safe with me.”
“And me,” says Bohdi. “I wouldn’t want Odin to get hold of Ama-chan. She’s weird, but sweet.”
Steve and Sigyn’s eyes both slide to Bohdi. He’s rubbing the back of his neck. Steve doesn’t sigh. For all his cleverness, Bohdi hasn’t picked up that Sigyn knows. His eyes slide to the woman. Is she not revealing her knowledge out of respect for his privacy? A worry that the walls have ears? Or as a bargaining chip for later? “Thank you,” Steve says, to her. “Do you know what she’s doing here on Earth?”
Sigyn cocks her head to the side. “I have no doubt that she meant exactly what she said. Odin means to control Earth. She has returned to Earth because she wishes to protect Japan.”
Hope rises in Steve’s chest. “Will she help us?” Any magical ally they can have in this war is worth pursuing.
Sigyn looks to the window. “She won’t, not now … ”
“Why?” Steve takes a step closer to her.
She meets Steve’s eyes again. It strikes him that her blue eyes are so dark, they’re almost violet. When he looks at her, he doesn’t have that peculiar sensation of looking through her that he sometimes gets with blue-eyed people. “Because Asgard is friendly with North Korea and will soon be friends with Pakistan as well. Both are nuclear powers. She won’t leave the islands she considers her home while they are in danger.” Looking back to the tablet, she says, “There may be other magical beings who are returning to regions of Earth they feel attached to, but finding them is a quest for another day.”
Steve’s eyebrows jog upward. “I did not know you followed current events on Earth.” He is very impressed.
Sigyn smiles. It’s sly, confident, and sexy. “There is a lot you don’t know about me.” She tilts her head. “Now if you don’t mind, I need to get ready to go. I’ll leave you and your right-hand man alone.” With that she turns and walks to the door. Steve’s eyes glide down her body before he catches himself.
As soon as the door closes behind her, what he expects to happen, happens. In a sing-song voice, Bohdi says, “Ooooooooo … Steve, you like her.” Steve turns to see him doing an obnoxious Bollywood dance move.
It is fortunate for Bohdi that Steve has a lot of practice in not strangling him. “Are you thirteen?” Steve demands. Before Bohdi has a chance to reply, Steve says, “A recruiter who was trying to steal one of our people and a Japanese so-called-goddess. What were you thinking?
Bohdi scowls. “What? Do you expect me to ask every woman I meet, ‘Excuse me are you a goddess, because you look like one to me?’ Because frankly, that is cheesy. Even for me.”
Steve glares at him.
Bohdi rubs the back of his neck. “And I didn’t know about the recruiter thing, honest.” He looks up at the ceiling. “Well, she said something about being a recruiter, but I didn’t think she would be trying to recruit one of our—”
“Bohdi!”
Bohdi blinks at him.
“I believe you.”
Bohdi’s body sags, and he nods. Again Steve restrains a sigh. Loki had a reputation as the God of Lies, but Bohdi’s feelings are completely transparent. Bohdi’s so lost. Which makes it easier for Steve to keep him somewhat in line, but sometimes it’s painful to watch. Walking over to the kid, Steve puts his hand on his shoulder. “And thanks not for taking her up on her offer to go to Japan.” He’s being sincere… which doesn’t mean the move isn’t carefully calculated.
Bohdi looks at the floor, but Steve can see him smile. “Wouldn’t want to miss going to Jotunheim,” the kid mumbles.
Steve gives the kid’s shoulder a pat. “Thank you.”
Lifting his eyes, Bohdi says, “Do you have anything more you need me to do?”
Steve almost says no. But then he realizes there is something else he can give the kid, a chance to say goodbye to Lewis. Inclining his head to the door, Steve says, “Why don’t you go get Lewis. Make sure she gets to the meeting place on time?”
“Sure,” says Bohdi, with a smile.
Steve watches him leave the office. Lewis can’t go on the final trip to Jotunheim and Utgard’s realm. But Bohdi will remember Steve’s endorsement of Lewis’ medical ability, and Steve’s offer now, and put all the blame on Larson and the Prometheans.
x x x x
Bohdi walks down the halls, fingers tight around his lighter. He’s worried about Ama-chan and hopes that the FBI won’t give away her location to Odin. He’s afraid to email or text her from his phone or anywhere in the office for fear his message will be intercepted. He really had no idea that she was a magical creature. It’s not like she volunteered that tidbit of information, and not like he asked. But Ama-chan is still a nice person, or elf, and he doesn’t want her to get in any sort of trouble with the Evil One-Eyed Santa.
He flicks his lighter. He’s also flustered because he can’t find Amy. He grinds his teeth. Steve gave him one job: find her, and he’s managed to fail at that. He went by her office but the door was locked. He peeked in the little window in her door; she wasn’t inside … although he’d seen her phone sitting on her desk next to her pack.
Some special ops guys in winter gear pass by him without acknowledging his presence. Flicking his lighter, Bohdi feigns obliviousness. He turns a corner and enters the main foyer. He looks out onto LaSalle Street. And then he shakes his head. Amy wouldn’t leave headquarters. Some guys come in the door, wheeling a huge something on a push cart. The offices are busy with the team getting ready to depart, and some research labs that are being relocated to the building. Bohdi jogs around the movers, turns a corner, and sees Brett and Bryant with two female Marine corporals, Mills and Harding. Steve persuaded the higher ups to bring
the two Marines on board so that Gerðr can always have female guards in Jotunheim.
“Here’s two extra rolls of duct tape for luck,” says Bryant.
Mills says, “Awww … ” and Harding says, “Thanks guys,” smiling a little too much. Bohdi blinks. He’s heard Brett describe the tall, dark-haired Mills as Zena the Warrior Princess and the cute blonde Harding as her sidekick Gabriella. It fits. And damn, if Brett and Bryant were with either of them the universe is completely unfair. He shakes his head. Brett and Bryant are his buddies, and being jealous is just … he thinks of Mills and Harding lifting weights in the gym in tight tee shirts, their bare arms glistening with the tiniest hint of sweat. Jealousy is completely natural, even if it’s wrong.
He sighs. He is too much of a gentleman to interrupt such a touching goodbye, so he doesn’t ask them if they know where Amy went to. Instead, Bohdi turns a corner again, jogs to get around some more movers carrying a desk, plunges through the door to the stairwell, and charges up to the roof, slipping his cigarettes out of his pocket as he goes. A smoke will clear his brain and let him think. When he reaches the door to the roof, he resists the urge to plunge through it. Instead he opens it slowly and steps out carefully, raising his hands to show he is no threat to the rooftop guards. He meets the eyes of one of the guys patrolling the deck. The guy nods in recognition. Dropping his hands, Bohdi pivots on his feet and jumps. There are agents standing at all the corners of the roof armed with sleek new Barrett M107s sniper rifles, but that isn’t what makes him hop. Standing in between the agents amid the sprouting grasses of the green roof is Amy, tossing Fenrir some treats. Beatrice is with her, of course. Except for last night, Bohdi hasn’t once seen Amy without Beatrice.
Last night Amy had looked cute and disheveled in too-large pajamas. Now her usually slightly messy hair has been pulled back in a military regulation neat bun. She’s wearing a tight black silken shirt that clings to her curves. It looks like an outer garment, but it’s actually the under-layer for the arctic gear everyone on the team will wear. She’s wearing arctic camouflage pants on her bottom half, and the puffy white “bunny boots” that are standard issue military gear. The military bun is too severe, but the tight top and the loose fitting gear on her lower half are a surprisingly good look on her.
From across the roof he hears Beatrice say, “Did you pack extra socks? You’ll never be warm if your feet are cold.” Her voice is unusually tremulous.
“Two pairs of extra socks,” Amy says. “And one extra pair of everything else.”
Fenrir cocks her head at Bohdi, and Amy turns in his direction. Loud enough that everyone on the roof probably hears, Amy blurts out. “And I still wish you were coming.”
Shoving his cigarettes into his pockets, Bohdi walks over. “Yeah, me, too.”
Beatrice’s face gets tight. For Beatrice, or for Amy, or himself, he says, “You’ll be safe. A whole team of special ops guys will be with you. They’re all good guys.” It’s the truth, even if he hates it. He hasn’t sniffed out a single traitor.
“Yes, but I trust you,” says Amy.
Bohdi has no desire to sneeze. He ducks his head. He will not be sappy or show that his stomach is tying in knots. Steve and Amy in a another realm makes him feel vaguely ill—they’re always there for him … the thought of possibly losing them both at once … Mustering up his game face, he leans in and says, “You’ll be back soon. And then maybe we can steal the serum that was confiscated.”
Amy’s mouth drops, and then she whispers. “You said my hypothesis—”
Bohdi shrugs. “Is flawed, but I’m not arguing the stuff works.”
Amy and Beatrice share a look. Closing the box of dog treats, Amy says, “Come with me.” She whispers again. “Too many ears out here.” Without further explanation, she heads for the stairs, Fenrir at her feet, and Beatrice at her side.
Bohdi taps the cigarettes in his pocket. He feels a burning need for one, but he follows Amy without a word.
A few minutes later, he’s in Amy’s office, and Beatrice is closing the door behind them. In the tiny space there is a little humming refrigerator, a low bookshelf, and Amy’s desk. The walls are lined with pictures from something called the Encyclopedia Mythica and personal photos. Some of the photos look like they were probably taken in vet school, in Oklahoma. At least it looks like what he imagines Oklahoma to look like, wide open plains and horses. There’s also pictures of Amy as a toddler, a little girl, and a teenager. The pictures feature Beatrice and an older white-haired man. He feels a pang. To have so much history …he thinks about the picture of his maybe parents and compulsively touches his phone but doesn’t pull it out.
He turns his gaze from the wall to her desk. The military backpack he saw earlier is still resting on top. The pack is open, revealing what looks like medical supplies.
Turning to Bohdi, Amy wrings her hands. “I have more serum,” she says. “I thought you weren’t interested, because you pointed out the flaw in my hypothesis, and you were right …”
Bohdi’s breath catches. The faces of his smiling maybe parents flash before his eyes. He rolls up his sleeve. “I’m ready; let’s go.”
“But Fenrir … Maybe you want to wait,” says Amy. “I mean we don’t know … I just thought I’d tell you and maybe … ”
“No, I want it right now,” Bohdi says.
“But … Fenrir is turning into a wolf … I think.”
Bohdi opens his mouth to insist, and then catches himself. Thor said being human allowed his magic not to be seen by Odin. Of course, he isn’t the incarnation of well-thought out choices, and anyway, Sigyn says she can’t see Steve’s magical signature yet and can only feel it if she touches him. Bohdi will have some time. Holding out his arm, he says, “Hit me.”
Amy doesn’t move.
“Please, Amy.”
Without a word she goes to the refrigerator. She comes back with a little white plastic case marked with a red cross. She gazes down at it. “There’s something else you should know about the serum—”
A knock sounds at the door.
“Just a minute,” she calls.
The door opens. Jung Park, the only special ops guy with whom Bohdi is on a first name basis, enters the room. “Dr. Lewis, Ma’am, we have to go.”
“Alright, I’m just packing a few more medical supplies,” she says. “Can you give me a minute?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Jung doesn’t move.
Amy stammers. “I … um…”
“We have to go, and I was ordered to retrieve you, right away,” Jung says.
Bohdi sighs inwardly. The special ops guys are all good guys, and Jung in particular might be alright—he’s first generation Korean-American and has taught Bohdi some nifty Korean swears—but they’re all sticklers for orders.
Jung’s eyes fall on the little white case in her hands. “You may pack that.”
Amy just stares at Jung. Bohdi’s jaw twitches. Is this interruption Chaos doing bad, or Chaos doing right? Maybe this shouldn’t happen right now? Rolling down his sleeve, he says, “You can give me that shot when you get back.”
Amy looks at him, wide-eyed and apologetic. He shrugs. “I’ll see you in a few hours, right?”
She nods, but he sees her hand shaking a little.
Turning, she heads back to the refrigerator with the white case of serum, when Jung says, “Ma’am, don’t you need to take your Red Cross kit?”
“Oh, right,” says Amy. She wraps the kit up in an article of clothing, quickly tosses it into the pack, and zips it up. “Just nervous.” She grabs her parka from a hook on the wall and swings it on. She gives a hug to Beatrice, turns, looks like she’s about to give Bohdi a hug, but then Jung clears his throat. “We have to go now, Ma’am.”
Bowing her head, Amy heads out the door, looking chastened. Jung follows and shuts the door behind him. Bohdi scowls. Hug blocked? He considers revising his assessment of Jung as a “good guy.” From the ceiling comes a frantic squeak. Bohdi looks up and
sees Mr. Squeakers dropping on a bungee line of silk.
“Amy can’t go without Squeakers!” Beatrice says.
Catching the spidermouse in his palm, Bohdi says, “I’m on it.” Heading out the door, he chases after Amy, shouting, “You’re not getting away that easily!”
She turns, too quickly. Jogging past Jung, he squeezes her as tight as he can with the pack and the parka on. Even with the gear, she still feels good and he holds her too long, or maybe she holds him too long. Bohdi hears a bang somewhere in the building, and a shockwave reverberates through the floor.
“Someone dropped something big,” Jung says.
Bohdi releases Amy, but manages to slip Mr. Squeakers from his pocket into hers as he does. “For luck,” he whispers.
She meets his eyes, and for a moment he thinks he might kiss her. He backs away quickly and says, “Check your pocket.”
Amy dips her hand into her pocket. “Oh.”
“Ma’am,” says Jung.
Amy drops her head. “Right.” Turning around, she heads down the hall. Just before she reaches the fire door, she looks back. “Thank you.” And then she disappears.
Bohdi’s hand finds his cigarettes. He turns around and sees Beatrice standing in the doorway of Amy’s office. “Thank you,” she says. A gray blur shoots past her legs and down the hall in the opposite direction. Spinning around, Beatrice raises her hands. “Fenrir, not again!”
Bohdi heads to the stairwell to have his smoke.
CHAPTER 16
Amy sits in the back of the specially modified Streets and Sanitation van near the doorway. The van is sort of like a delivery truck—shaped like a box and nearly as wide as a semi. Unlike a normal Streets and Sanitation van, it’s as long as a school bus. Amy’s flanked by Nari and Sigyn. Valli and Gerðr are on the other side of the aisle. She can just make out the gleam of Gerðr’s Promethean wire-lined cap. Steve and Lieutenant Larson stand at the doorway. The rest of the special ops team lines the sides of the van, backs straight, chins high, faces serious. Everyone is in layers of puffy white snow gear; it conjures up images of marshmallow men. Amy bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Instead she pats her side. She can feel Mr. Squeakers tucked safely in her pocket, and Loki’s little white book.