by Lauren Dawes
“That’s because I wasn’t.” Nobody other than Lilith knew about his torn ACL. Everyone else thought he’d just sprained his knee and was out for a few weeks while he rested up.
“Did you have a plan coming in tonight?”
“To win.” Sometimes Thor hated these post-match interviews. All he was here to do was fight.
The announcer hesitated, probably sensing he wasn’t going to get much more out of him. “Well, it was a great fight. Congratulations.” He turned to the crowd and raised Thor’s arm into the air. “Ladies and gentleman, your XFO Middleweight Champion – Thor!”
He was handed his belt. He held the thing over his head for a few minutes, waiting for the flash of cameras to die down before he lowered his arms. Lilith followed him out of the ring where the physician waited to check him over. The doctor asked Thor if he was sore anywhere in particular and gave him a quick look over. When the doctor was done, Thor got the all clear to leave ringside and head back to the change room. He walked with his title belt held down at his side while Lilith followed.
As soon as the door was closed behind them, Lilith got a towel and filled it with ice. She put it on the cut above his eye. “Keep that there,” she instructed. “I’ll get the enswell.”
The goddess held the small piece of metal to Thor’s eyebrow and pressed slightly. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Fine.”
She laughed. “Got anything else in that vocabulary of yours?”
“What do you want me to say?”
She shrugged. “I dunno.”
“Look, just get me patched up and then I can get showered and we can go.”
“Congratulations,” someone said from the doorway. Thor’s shoulders tightened involuntarily and he looked up to find Odin standing there. Dressed in an expensive sable-trimmed coat, there was nothing about his father that blended in.
“What are you doing here?” he asked caustically. Lilith had taken a step back and was now looking between the pair warily. Thor had told her about the fight that had forged a divide between him and his father.
“I’ve come to see you.”
Thor’s jaw bulged. “What makes you think I want to see you? I’m pretty sure I told you to go to hell and stay there the last time I saw you.”
“You are in danger.”
Thor rolled his eyes. “Say whatever it is you need to say and then get the fuck out of my life again.”
His father was silent for a long time and then took a few steps into the room. “How long have you been fighting?”
“Five years.”
“And you have been successful?”
Lilith laughed derisively. “He’s thirty-one and oh.”
Odin looked her over. There was nothing sexual about the perusal – more like an entomologist studying a new insect in his collection. “I don’t understand what that means.”
Thor sighed. “It means I haven’t lost a fight yet.”
Nothing but unspoken words filled the room. It was uncomfortable and stifling, but he wouldn’t break first.
“I need to speak with you, son.”
Thor ground his teeth. “I’m not interested in anything you have to say to me.”
Odin let out a breath. “Please?” he asked.
He studied his father. He was haemorrhaging desperation although he was hiding it well. “I’ll give you ten minutes,” Thor replied. Turning to Lilith, he said, “Go and stall my sponsors.”
The goddess’s face screwed up, and Thor was sure he was up for a fight. Instead, the scowl disappeared and she left the room. Thor closed the door behind her and crossed his arms over his chest. “You now have nine minutes.”
Odin nodded. “We have a problem.”
“We?” Thor asked, moving around the room, unwrapping the tape from his hands.
“You and me,” Odin replied. Thor hadn’t even heard what his father wanted to say, but already didn’t like it. “Loki has been freed.”
That statement stopped him. He turned to look at his father. “Excuse me?”
“Loki. He’s free and he’s rather upset about what happened to him.”
“He’s rather upset?” Thor sputtered in disbelief. He sat down heavily on the bench. “How?”
“Your mother is dead,” he said, instead of answering his question.
“What? When?” Gods, his father could bring the worst fucking news.
“Last month.”
“Last month? And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I did not know where you were until two hours ago.”
Thor was silent for a few minutes, his head resting in his hands. Warily, he asked, “Where is Loki now?”
“Here, in Chicago.”
“Are you sure?”
“I was, until I lost him. I’ve been tracking him for the past month, but as of yesterday evening, I don’t know where he is.”
“Has he contacted you?” Thor asked.
“In his own way he has.”
Lifting his head, Thor frowned. “Why do you always have to be so damn cryptic?” he asked, standing again and picking up his sports bag to get some clean clothes. “What does he want?”
Odin put his back against one wall, crossing his arms over his chest despite the risk of putting wrinkles in his suit. “I suspect our deaths.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think?” Odin retorted. “We imprisoned him in a cave. We chained one son up until the end of time and we killed his wife and remaining son in front of him.”
“With good reason,” Thor replied.
“He needed to be punished,” Odin said. “Or have you forgotten what he did to your brother?”
“I haven’t forgotten.” Thor’s voice was dangerous. “What do you need from me?”
“I want you to come with me. I need you safe. I have already lost your mother and brother to him. I will not lose you too.”
So Loki had killed his mother too. Whatever. It didn’t change anything. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Odin.”
His father’s lips thinned at the use of his name. “Are you still angry with me?”
Angry was the fucking understatement of the century. What Thor felt toward his father walked a dangerous line between life-threatening rage and premeditated murder. Just being in his presence again reminded Thor of the day he walked in to find Odin in bed with his wife.
Thor rounded on him. “What do you think?” he snarled. He looked at the clock over his father’s head. “Your ten minutes is up.”
“Thor—”
“Get out. I need a shower and I need to get out of here.”
“What about Loki?”
“What about him?”
“What if he comes for you?”
Thor laughed. “I was stronger than him before the Fall. I can guarantee nothing’s changed. Now get the fuck out of my life. You’ve already turned it to shit once. I don’t need a fucking encore.”
Chapter 7
Chicago
Loki was sitting in a stand at UIC Pavilion, no more than three rows back from Odin. If Bryn’s feather cloak had been in his possession, he could have killed Odin so easily. When his blood-brother had created his Valkyries, he also created their only weakness – their cloak. If all the feathers were plucked from it, the Valkyrie would become mortal and could be killed. But for Odin, Bryn was his weakness. If her cloak was stripped and she was killed, then Odin’s immortality ended along with her. And when that happened, he could be slain.
Loki’s gaze gravitated back to the ring, to the spectacle everyone had come to see. He curled his lip as he watched Thor strut around the ring like a preening peacock. He had not changed at all. His arrogance was just as distasteful as it had been when they’d lived in Asgard together. The humans still loved him too, it seemed. The crowd was whipped into a frenzy when the match began, and Loki sank deeper into his seat, watching the two men grapple and fight for dominance on the mat.
Such a primitive thing – fighting. Before the Fall, Loki h
ad lost a lot of money betting on the fights run by fire demons in Muspelheim. It was seen as the lowest forms of entertainment by the Aesir, but he’d liked nothing more than to see some black blood spilled, quickly followed by the severed limb that had been ripped from a demon’s body.
The humans thought they were so evolved, so superior to everyone and everything else, but look at them now – they were foaming at the mouth, screaming and cheering on a fighter. These men had been elevated to superstar status and for what? To be admired? To be worshiped? Celebrity was the altar at which humans bowed down now.
“Filth,” Loki said under his breath.
He sat and watched all five rounds of the bout, growing angrier and angrier. The humans had revered Thor during Loki’s time in Asgard. They prayed to him, sacrificed to him and carved idols of him. Nobody ever did the same for Loki. He was always the one they looked to – blamed – when things went badly. If their crops had failed, it had to be his doing. If a woman’s husband was found in another’s bed, it must have been Loki who’d poisoned his mind.
As he watched Thor, Loki had resurrected every repulsive memory he had of him. But the one that stuck out the most for him was the look on Thor’s face as Loki was bound to that rock and left to endure the stench of his wife’s and son’s bodies as they rotted away.
The sound in the arena was suddenly deafening. Thor had his thick forearm wrapped around the other fighter’s throat, choking consciousness from his opponent. The cries for him to finish the fight reached a fever pitch just as Thor did exactly that. The other fighter went limp in his arms. The referee declared the fight to be over, and Thor was once again hailed as the hero of the hour.
Odin stood up then, turned around and walked up the stairs, passing by Loki without a second glance. His blood-brother was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even sense his presence. With a smile, Loki followed.
*
Thor slung his sports bag over one shoulder, taking Lilith’s bag in his other hand. Even though she protested, he knew she liked to be taken care of.
“I can carry that myself,” she said, crossing her arms petulantly.
Thor smirked. “Of course you can, but then you’d bitch me out for not carrying it.”
Lilith huffed but said no more.
“Thought so,” he muttered. “So, where to?”
“I don’t know why you bother asking me this. We always go to the same place after every fight,” the goddess replied.
Thor dug a hand into his jeans pocket to make sure his car key was still where he’d left it. His latest model red Mustang was nearly the last car in the parking garage. It unlocked when he touched the driver’s side handle before he walked around the trunk and put their bags inside. Lilith, looking good in her tight jeans and white tank top, was already buckled in by the time Thor got in. He had thought about seducing her a few times before, but never followed through on it. Lilith was important to him, and he didn’t want to fuck up the good thing they had going on.
Starting up the car, the engine roared loudly for a brief second before the sound died, along with all the electrics.
“What the fuck?” he said as he hit the start button once more.
“What’s wrong?” Lilith asked.
“I don’t know.”
“So call a tow and we’ll fade to the diner. I don’t know why you insist on driving this thing anyway.”
“That’s not the point. Veronica never breaks down,” he muttered, frowning. He didn’t want to give his father’s words any credence, but his first thoughts went to the warning about Loki.
“Veronica?” she asked incredulously. “I can’t believe you named your fucking car. What else have you named, your cock?” He grinned at her, hoping she couldn’t sense his uneasiness. Throwing her hands into the air, Lilith said, “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Thor pulled the hood catch, got out and scanned the garage. When he couldn’t see anyone lurking around, he walked around to the front. After propping the hood up, he put both hands onto the front of the car and leaned down, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. He checked the usual connections then called for Lilith to try and start the car.
“Yo, Lil, did you hear me? Turn her over.”
No reply.
Thor peered past the side of the hood to see what the delay was, and what he saw was not what he expected.
Lilith was slumped over in the passenger seat, blood covering her throat and the front of her chest.
“Fuck.” Thor pulled off his shirt so he could touch the tattoo of Mjolnir and summon his hammer. Before he could make contact though, searing pain eclipsed his senses. His legs buckled and he fell to the ground. Face-down on the cold concrete, he couldn’t move at all. The pain in the center of his spine was a pretty good indication of why.
“It’s been too long,” someone drawled from the shadows.
Thor strained his eyes trying to see who it was, but he knew exactly who had found him.
“Loki,” he gasped. “You bastard.”
Loki laughed, the sound chilling Thor down to the marrow in his bones. The god walked over to him; he was covered in blood.
“Why did you kill her?” Thor demanded. He tried to move, but knew it wasn’t going to happen. Whatever Loki had done to him, it wasn’t wearing off quickly.
Loki flipped him over onto his back. Supine, Thor watched Loki step forward, inspecting his chest.
“Nice ink,” Loki said. “I especially like the hammer. You need to touch the tattoo to summon it, don’t you?” Thor pressed his lips together tightly. Loki smirked. “I thought so. It’s like the Valkyries with their swords. Except they don’t need to be holding their swords to have superhuman strength.” Loki traced the outer edge of Mjolnir with a long fingernail. His eyes met Thor’s. “Unlike you. That is unfortunate,” he finished with a simpering smile.
Pulling a gun from a holster under his arm, Loki pressed the cold muzzle against Thor’s chest. Thor’s mouth went dry. His father’s words were suddenly ringing in his ears, the warning he had ignored punctuated by the frigid barrel of a gun. He should have just listened to him, but he was still so angry with what Odin had done, with how he had destroyed his relationship and his life in one fell swoop.
“It’s nothing personal, you know,” Loki said. He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, wait, yes it is.” His expression sobered. “You are just as guilty as your father for imprisoning me.”
The last thing Thor heard was the crack of gunfire.
Chapter 8
Chicago
Odin strode back into his hotel suite, and went straight to the wet bar running along one side of the living room. After pouring himself a shot of cognac, he swallowed down the amber liquid and quickly poured himself another. And then another. Thor’s disregard for his warning was frustrating, but not at all unexpected. Odin had not been the best father to his son, but whatever he did in the past was in the past, and it could not be undone. He hadn’t wanted to leave Thor tonight, but out of respect for his wishes and perhaps future reconciliation, he had. Odin would not give up so easily though.
The room was silent except for the sound of his pacing back and forth across the Italian marble tiles. The constant slap of his shoes was getting to him. Odin turned on the TV and sat down on the couch. He channel surfed for a while, ignoring the infomercials, the ads for late-night sex hotlines. But there was one thing he simply couldn’t ignore: the feeling of dread that was squeezing his heart.
He couldn’t believe Thor had been hiding in plain sight all this time. Odin let his head fall back against the cream leather sofa, his eyes closing, the liquor warming his blood. Tapping into the minds of his ravens, he began to see first through the eyes of Muninn and then Huginn. Both were flying over the city, but he could glean little else from the vision. While having them out looking was an advantage, it did have its limitations too, since he could only see what they were seeing in that moment. To see everything they had over the course of the night,
he would need to be in physical contact with the birds.
“And with breaking news, we go to Jamie Reynolds down at the UIC Pavilion. Jamie,” a reporter on the TV was saying.
“Thank you, Silvia. Yes, I’m down here at the UIC Pavilion where promising mixed martial arts fighter, Thor, was found dead, along with the body of an unidentified woman.”
Odin’s eyes became fixed on the screen as everything inside him went numb. The shot of the reporter changed to show the car where the bodies had been found, police tape cordoning off the scene. On the hood of the car was a message scrawled in blood. In the old language, it simply said: See you in Boston, brother.
“… both had been viciously assaulted in what seems to be an unprovoked attack. The police have released no other details at this time …”
He stood up, but his legs gave out beneath him, dumping him to the cold marble floor. The glass in his hand fell with him, shattering on the floor. Loki had found his son – had killed his son. Odin’s warnings had fallen on deaf ears, and Thor had paid the ultimate price.
A single tear tracked down Odin’s cheek. Thor’s death renewed the need to find Loki and make sure his punishment was permanent. Getting himself vertical again, Odin poured himself another drink and slammed it down his throat. He had to find Fenrir’s son. He had to put an end to this.
At least he was in the right city, according to Verdandi. He just had no idea where to start looking. In the month that Odin had watched Loki, the god had only interacted with three people: Henry Craine, the CEO of P&C Pharmaceuticals which was, of course, a front for the Chicago mob boss, and the two Mares he had used as wet men. Craine was now dead – Odin had read as much in the newspaper – and he suspected Loki had been the one responsible.
There was a tap on the window and he walked over and pulled back the curtain. Huginn was perched on the sill. Odin opened up the window, and the raven hopped into the room.
“Who have you found?” Odin asked.
The raven screeched and flew onto Odin’s shoulder. Closing his eyes, Odin looked into his raven’s memories, seeing everything it had seen. Huginn had flown all over Chicago, swooping between buildings and flying low enough to see the faces of the gods and goddesses who inhabited the city with the humans. He ignored all of them until he saw the face of the Mare he was looking for. Odin didn’t know his name, but it was definitely him. He was entering a building downtown and Odin knew exactly where it was – Frigg had also kept an apartment there.