“Everything’s a freaking game to you, isn’t it?” There was no bite to her words. She was clearly too tired to argue with him, and that was a relief.
“Of course,” he replied. “As it is for all of us. As it should be for you.”
“Fine,” she said. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“You felt something today, at the antiques warehouse. That’s why you went back.”
“You know I did. Obviously.” She gestured toward him and the fact that he was in her apartment. “What of it?”
“You should have called me,” he said.
“And what would you have done?”
He watched the gears turning behind her eyes. She had more patience with him now when he didn’t come directly to the point. She was learning that chaos and power find their own way to the heart of the matter, illuminating dark corners and dusty secrets along the way. This current invitation to dance would have to be more of a quick jitterbug than a slow waltz, and he trusted Sally to come to her own conclusions.
“Kept you company.” He leaned back into the deep slope of the futon couch. “Trust me, Sally, you don’t want to mess with these forces. Not by yourself.”
“Enough!” Sally threw her hands up. “Just tell me then what I’m up against. Enlighten me. If you’re determined to be an ally, start working with me.”
Loki smiled and reached over to start petting Baron again. “You’re going to need more allies than just me, before this next struggle is through.”
5
It wasn’t yet 6:30 in the morning. It was a full half-hour before sunrise, but the construction site in Thor’s neighborhood was buzzing. Workers were arriving for their shifts with thermoses of steaming coffee and breakfasts in brown paper sacks. There weren’t yet any supervisors on the scene, and Thor knew from earlier walks past the site that the workers wouldn’t pick up their tools until management arrived.
Thor shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and huffed against the cold. The inch or two of snow on the ground had frozen overnight and his boots crunched through the hard crust to the little bit of powder underneath. He walked slowly along the chainlink fence separating the construction zone from the sidewalk, and his muttered curses froze with his breath on the air.
If not for insomnia, he might still be warm in bed next to his wife or enjoying a hot breakfast in the stillness of the house before Magnus awoke. Instead, he’d spent the long night failing to find comfort under the thick quilt Bonnie’s grandmother Grace Red Cliff had made for them, and instead succeeded in chasing his thoughts down every conceivable heri hole. In the pre-dawn darkness, he was still worried about the strange boy under his roof. He remained incensed by the pushy men at his door, mystified by the odd but helpful behavior of his kooky neighbor, and troubled by the potential danger to his family. He was also still irritated that his company hadn’t won the construction contract for this build site.
What he really wanted to be doing was storming Balkian Brothers Antiques to get some answers. But Bonnie had convinced him to wait for Heimdall instead of tearing off by himself. It was sound advice, and Thor was getting better at listening to it. But he was too restless to sit around at home waiting for his brother to show up, so he’d stomped off through the snow to check out the construction site. It still struck him as odd that the winning bidders would mount their building project in the middle of winter when Portland weather was at its worst.
He kicked his boots through the crusty snow and turned a corner, still following the construction fence down the block. More workers were arriving at the site to start their day, parking in the site’s temporary lot, walking in from bus stops, and getting dropped off by spouses. A dark-colored van pulled up to the entry gate, the engine running as its side door slid open and four bedraggled men hopped out. They looked about as bad as Thor felt, and he had real empathy for anyone who’d passed as fitful a night as he had. But then the front passenger rolled down his window, leaned out of the van, and directed some heated words toward one of the men who had just exited.
Thor slowed his steps and maneuvered behind a metal sign attached to the fence. It wasn’t large enough to hide his big body, and he hoped he wasn’t drawing even more attention to himself as he peeked around the edge of the sign to spy on the conversation at the gate. Thor couldn’t make out the passenger’s words, but his bullying anger and condescension were clear. The worker on the receiving end of this tirade bowed his tired head and nodded, remaining in place until the passenger completed his rant and settled back in the van, his window closing. The vehicle rolled away, speeding past Thor.
Balkian Brothers Antiques was emblazoned on the side of the van in gold paint.
Thor hurried toward the gate and caught up to the chastised worker before he disappeared into the construction site. Not sure if the man spoke English, Thor touched him lightly on the elbow. Too weary to be startled, the man turned to Thor and waited.
“Are you okay?” It was a stupid question to open a deeper conversation, but Thor wasn’t sure how else to begin without arousing suspicion. He was only a few feet past the fence and into the construction site, but that was enough to get himself kicked out for trespassing. And if he were recognized as running a competing construction company, he might be facing ethics charges for trying to poach workers.
The worker blinked at Thor and waited. Thor jerked a thumb toward his own chest. “I’m Thor. Who was that guy in the van? He seems like a real jerk.”
The man glanced past Thor in the direction of the retreating van. “Luca,” he said with a quick nod. There was a familiar sadness and agitation in his eyes. “Everything is fine. No need for your concern.”
“I’m really bad with placing accents.” Thor laughed and tried to brighten his face and put Luca at ease. “Where are you from, Luca? Have you been in Portland long?” He gestured toward the other men who had been dropped off by the van with Luca. “You guys all look like you’re in pretty rough shape.”
“Is fine.” Luca’s voice was sharp and his gaze warned Thor not to push deeper. “Nice to meet you, Thor. Now, we work. Have a good morning.”
Luca turned and walked deeper into the construction site. More cars pulled up and parked, and men with clipboards and briefcases got out. The supervisors were arriving for work, and Thor quickly moved back outside the fenced perimeter. He watched Luca and his fellows a few minutes longer. They clustered together and kept to themselves as the other workers called out to each other and cracked jokes. Luca and his companions were the first to pick up their tools, the first to approach their designated work areas and begin their assigned tasks.
Thor turned and headed for home, all the while wondering why in the blazes of Muspellheim an antiques company would be concerned with a construction site.
He rationalized that the Balkian Brothers were supplying day laborers, probably illegally. Should he call the police? ICE? He had no idea who to contact, and he didn’t think it was a good idea to blow the whistle on the Balkian Brothers before he’d figured out their connection to Maksim. He also didn’t imagine the Balkian Brothers wouldn’t try to retaliate.
The wise words of his father, Odin, and of King Thrym of the Frost Giants floated through his mind. This was a world of mortals now. Thor the Thunderer had been a god among the ancient Norse people, and he still was to the scattered few who kept the faith. But he was also now a husband and a father and a business owner trying to make his way in the human world. Instead of reaching for his hammer and cracking skulls when trouble arose, he was being advised by his hippie neighbor and considering which mortal authority to call. Perhaps it was just that Odin and Frigga’s homestead had fractured into three as the Lodge’s influence and relevance continued to diminish.
He hadn’t gone half a block, kicking at the snow and watching the sun rise, before he came to the conclusion that he’d stumbled across a bona fide human trafficking operation. For many long years, he’d deliberately not inserted himself into the mundane affa
irs of modern mortals, even where criminal activity was involved. But that was before the little waif Maksim arrived on his doorstep and brought this mystery into Thor’s household. He walked a few more blocks and thought about how hungry Maksim had been and how his eyes widened with wonder at the swings in the yard and the inflatable mattress on the floor. Thor had a soft spot for innocents and for children in particular. And he didn’t think it was any accident that Maksim had chosen Thor’s house. Both Bonnie and Saga said there was something special about the boy. Thor felt it, too. Maybe this wasn’t an entirely mundane matter after all.
Thor kicked more snow and stomped up the steps to his front porch. The sun was creeping over the horizon and a few of his neighbors were de-icing their windshields and warming up their cars. He knocked the snow off his boots and headed inside.
Saga was in the dining room, laying out a fine family breakfast. She’d slept on the couch, and Heimdall would be arriving shortly. Bonnie intercepted Thor in the hallway as he pulled off his insulated jacket and hung it up in the tight closet that was packed with coats and scarves and boots and umbrellas but still managed to be organized and tidy.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the stairs. “Let’s go wake the boys.”
Thor followed her up to the second floor to the door of Magnus’s bedroom. He rested his hand on the doorknob, then turned to Bonnie. “We need to keep them both safe.”
She smiled and squeezed his arm. “Absolutely.”
Thor pushed the door open. The specifics would be worked out at the coming family meeting, but he could make some basic assurances to the boys before breakfast. But every last word abandoned him as he stood in the doorway and watched the two boys on the floor together.
Maksim and Magnus sat facing each other in the early morning light. They were so engrossed in their activity that they didn’t notice the adults in the doorway. Magnus was hunched forward, his wide eyes following the model longboat he and Thor had built together a couple of weeks earlier. The model floated in the air, just above Maksim’s open palms. The ship spun in a slow, clockwise circle. Magnus’s face was frozen in a smile of amazement.
Thor’s mouth went dry. Was the boy a wielder of true magick, like Sally? There weren’t supposed to be any others like her. Opal was a strong witch in her own right, but her skills were largely confined to salves and tinctures and candle spells. What Maksim was doing with the toy ship was supposed to be impossible in these days of waning magick.
Bonnie tried to push past Thor, but his bulk filled the doorway and blocked her view. She rested a hand on his back. “Thor? What is it? Is everything okay?”
He stepped aside so Bonnie could see what was happening. She stifled a gasp.
“That is so cool!” Magnus exclaimed. “What else can you make it do?”
The boat settled into Maksim’s hands and he shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m still learning.”
“Time for breakfast, boys.” Thor wasn’t sure what he had just seen, but Bonnie’s startled expression let him know that she’d seen it, too.
Maksim looked up with wide, fearful eyes. His small body froze as he waited for their judgment. Magnus grabbed the model longship out of Maksim’s hands and shoved it under his bed.
“We were just playing,” Magnus said.
“And what kind of game was that?” Bonnie’s voice was high and thin.
“You should have been sleeping,” Thor said.
“I know,” Magnus replied with an exasperated sigh. He had been reprimanded multiple times for not staying in bed, for prowling around the house at all hours and conducting odd experiments like stacking books from the floor to the ceiling to see how many volumes would fit in a single column and sitting in a bathtub full of vinegar to find out how long it would take to turn himself into a pickle. “But we stayed in my room all night. I promise.”
Thor managed a weak smile. “That’s good. Now, breakfast.”
Bonnie started making Magnus’s bed for him. “Saga’s downstairs cooking up something very special, so you’d better get dressed right away.”
Magnus grinned at Maksim. “I’ll bet it’s pancakes!”
Thor could tell Maksim had no idea what a pancake was, but the boy seemed to feed off of Magnus’s excitement. Magnus jumped to his feet and dashed across the room, tugging open dresser drawers to pull out a clean shirt and socks. Maksim looked up at Bonnie with uncertainty.
“You, too,” she said. “Just pick something of Magnus’s to wear for now. And Magnus, don’t forget to brush your teeth and comb your hair. It’s not either or. I’ll not have a collection of barbarians at my table.”
“Okay.” Magnus shimmied out of his pajamas and pulled an Iron Man t-shirt over his head. Thor didn’t understand his son’s obsession with movie superheroes when he had Norse gods for family on top of his own supernatural parentage.
Maksim rose slowly to his feet. He stood in front of Bonnie and waited for her to finish making the bed.
“It’s okay, Maksim, really,” she said. “Whatever you want to wear is fine.”
Maksim’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry. I just wanted him to like me.”
Bonnie knelt in front of him and grasped his shoulders. “There’s nothing to apologize for, understand? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Maksim nodded, the motion spilling more tears down his cheeks. Bonnie folded him into a hug, and he started sobbing into her shoulder. “Please don’t tell on me. Please don’t send me back to them.”
Magnus stood beside his father and raked his fingers through his dark, curly hair—his version of combing it. “Don’t be mad. I asked him to do it. We were just playing.”
Thor rested a hand on his son’s shoulder and wondered what brand of sorcery he’d brought under his roof. Maksim turned his head and looked up at Thor, his frightened eyes still wet. Thor sucked in a sharp breath. He realized why the construction worker, Luca, looked familiar.
Just like the day before, Maksim was overwhelmed with the sights and smells of so many delicious foods for breakfast. There were more people in the house this morning, too, the family and friends of his hosts. It was reassuring to be in the midst of a warm and bustling household, but it also made him miss his own family.
His parents were still in the tunnels with mats on the damp ground and only thin blankets and cold soup. Were they being punished for his escape?
Thor’s sister was still here, and his brother had just arrived, too. Maksim was introduced to Heimdall and Maggie and Sally, and they filled their plates and laughed and whispered together like they feasted this way all the time. Everyone was friendly, even though Maksim sometimes caught them watching him with suspicion. If they knew about what he could do, they didn’t say anything to him about it.
Maggie was excited and wanted to talk about apple trees, and Thor and Heimdall complained together about how the people of Portland didn’t know how to drive their vehicles in winter weather. Bonnie kept tucking Magnus’s napkin into his shirt but it always fell back into his lap as he stuffed another pancake into his mouth with his fingers.
“Utensils, please!” Bonnie nudged Magnus’s fork toward him. “You don’t want to set a bad example for Maksim, do you?”
Magnus’s grin drooped into a frustrated frown. He chewed with his mouth open and sprayed bits of pancake across the table when he said, “No.” He and Maksim looked at each other and started giggling.
Bonnie sighed. “I don’t know why I bother. He acts like he’s being raised by wolves.”
Maksim had never tasted pancakes before, and they were sweet and buttery. He was careful to keep his own napkin tucked into his borrowed t-shirt. It was too big on him, but it was soft and the cartoon mouse on the front made him smile.
He ate his pancakes and drank his juice, and still there was more food coming from the kitchen. Saga carried dish after overflowing dish to the table, until there was barely space left for anyone to sit down. Maksim tried a little bit of everything from the p
latters of bacon and sausages, baskets of sweet and savory muffins, a pot of hot oats, a casserole of roasted tomatoes, several plates of cheeses and sliced meats, and a huge tureen of scrambled eggs.
Heimdall sat down on the other side of the table and watched Maksim eat. Maksim’s stomach was starting to fill up, and he was eating more slowly. Heimdall wasn’t as big as his brother, and he had kind eyes. Maksim didn’t mind so much that Heimdall was watching him dip his bites of pancake in syrup. He even smiled when Maksim looked over at him.
“They look good together,” Heimdall said to Thor as his brother sat down at the head of the table. “Almost like brothers.”
Brothers. Maksim felt a pleasant tingling in his stomach that was better than sausage and pancakes.
“I’m glad you think so,” Thor replied. “Right now that’s the best camouflage we’ve got.”
Heimdall frowned, and so did Maksim. “Camouflage?”
“He doesn’t have much of an accent, either,” Saga said as she took her place at the table. “I mean, considering.”
“Television,” Bonnie said with a shrug. She smiled, but her eyes looked sad. The food in Maksim’s mouth turned slightly sour. He didn’t want to be the cause of her sadness. “He was telling Magnus how he used to hide in the shadows while his . . . While the ‘bad men’ watched basketball games and Netflix.”
“So,” Thor announced in a commanding voice as he buttered a piece of toast. He glanced at Maksim and Magnus beside him. “You’re probably wondering why everyone’s here and why we’re sharing such a feast.”
Maksim looked at the bits of sausage and cheese still on his plate and at all of the other foods within easy reach on the table. He said a silent prayer of thanks to Zorya Vechernyaya, Goddess of the Evening Star, that he’d been led to this house to be fed and kept safe, and he asked that his parents be watched over, too.
“I think it’s okay when there are pancakes.” Magnus shoved another whole pancake into his mouth, this time with the assistance of a fork.
Twilight Magic (Rune Witch Book 6) Page 8