Black Ice
Page 16
Had he told her what Freya mean to do with her, and she’d been too angry to accept his help? Perhaps, Loki mused, though his observers would have informed him if she’d severed ties with Dainn completely. Had she intended to protect him from Loki? Or was it the beast she feared loosing?
Give him back to me, Loki thought, and I’ll see that it never gives you another moment’s trouble.
Of course she’d never surrender Dainn to him. But Mist, like so many others, tended to forget that Loki was perfectly capable of being very patient when it suited him. The elf had no way of knowing it yet, but he had walked into a trap that would snap closed when he least expected it.
In the end, Dainn would come to Loki of his own free will. As if to shake off that very distracting subject, Loki spun his chair in a circle. What interested him just as much as Dainn’s predicament and Mist’s ignorance was Anna’s changing behavior when he had questioned her. At times she had cowered; at others she had been bold and contemptuous.
She seemed to be two, perhaps even three different people. And one, he believed, was a Valkyrie. The girl had used ancient Norse insults such as “honorless spear-pointers and gray-bellies,” which few contemporary mortals would understand. And Mist had fought beside at least two of her Sisters during the Second World War.
Anna was clearly not a Chooser of the Slain in her “normal” state. Was it possible that some “essence” of one of the Valkyrie had entered her, perhaps through Odin’s messenger? .
Loki brought his chair to a halt and got up. There was yet another puzzle: where were Odin’s sons in all of this? And what of the berserkr who had attempted to follow Loki? He had broken off the chase the moment Loki had turned to confront him.
Cowardice following on the heels of recklessness was a trait often found in those who could easily be manipulated. But was this berserkr an isolated creature, or one of many hidden away from mortalkind? And if there were others, where would their interests lie?
Far more intrigued than irritated by the questions, Loki took the elevator to his suite, continued to the walk-in closet of his bedroom, and chanted the spell to open the safe, reinforced with layers of magic even Odin would find difficult to penetrate. Very carefully he drew out the spell-bound box and cradled it in his hands.
The feathers were quite beautiful, he thought, streaked as they were with tones of deep blue and purple and highlighted with silver. But they were more than beautiful. They could be essential. And Mist didn’t know he had them.
His cell rang, jerking him back into the moment. He tucked the box under his arm, closed the safe, and answered.
“You asked me to call, Mr. Landvik,” Miss Jones said, her voice strained with long days and nights of fear.
“How is the boy?” Loki asked.
“Very well, Mr. Landvik.” Her breathing was short and sharp. “Would you like me to get him ready?”
“I will be down momentarily.”
Loki cut off the connection, tucked the box under his arm, and took the elevator to the second floor. His programmers, hackers, and technicians were busy at their computers, but all work stopped when Loki entered the room.
“Mr. Landvik,” the supervisor said, only slightly less nervous than Miss Jones had been.
“How are we progressing?” Loki asked, striding past the lanky mortal.
“We have a … few new leads, sir,” the supervisor stammered as Loki stopped at the cubicle of one of the hackers, who swung his chair around and all but leaped out of it before Loki slammed him back down. He leaned over, narrowing his eyes as he examined the hacker’s screen.
“Alert my assistants if you find anything at all,” Loki said, straightening. “But don’t waste my time.”
Both the hacker and his boss nodded vigorously. Loki didn’t bother to conceal his contempt. What did they say about not sending a boy to do a man’s job? Or a mortal a god’s?
Unfortunately, he had acquired the best of what had been available to him at the time. He had already exhausted nearly all the funds he had acquired through magic. But his plans for the criminals under his control would bear fruit very soon, and Senator Briggs—the cringing object of Loki’s recent game of blackmail—had certain illegitimate connections he was using to find and hire individuals to make up a new team of experts who would assure that Loki’s business and personal investments became, and remained, highly profitable.
And then, of course, Loki had that valuable new source of intelligence. He expected to see results very soon.
Miss Jones, ensconced in her chair, jumped out of it when Loki walked into Danny’s room. Loki knew she’d been awaiting punishment for permitting Danny to slip out of the building when Dainn had been so carefully observing it. Of course, she had no idea that Loki had arranged the “escape” himself.
Taking a seat beside the bed, Loki watched Danny rock in his usual way, ignoring his parent as if he were no more than a ghost. Loki opened the box and displayed the feathers to his son.
Danny’s eyes focused on the feathers. He reached out, his fingers stopping just short of the glittering objects.
“You like them, don’t you?” Loki crooned. “Can you guess what they are?”The boy’s eyes met his with complete comprehension.
“Do you remember the pretty picture you drew for me?” Loki put down the box and indicated that Miss Jones should bring the crude drawing of the raven to him. He showed it to Danny. “How did you know about this bird?” he asked. “Where did you see it?”
Danny shook his head. Loki curbed his impatience.
“Never mind that for now,” he said. “Perhaps you knew the creature that wore these feathers is dangerous to your daddy, and to you. If we can take the bird and stop the lady who is keeping him, we won’t have to worry anymore. And you can help me.”
Danny’s gaze fogged again. Loki was not displeased. He had engaged in such monologues many times, but Danny had seldom shown even this degree of interest. It seemed that his meeting with—
A shadow fell over Loki, and he swung around. Odin stood over him—Odin in all his glory, Gungnir clutched in one brawny hand, ready to strike.
“Kneel to me, Slanderer,” the All-father thundered, “and I may bind you in the cave again instead of destroying you.”
Loki sprang up, snapped the lid of the box shut, and snatched Danny off the bed. Shoving the boy behind him, he backed to the nearest wall, dropped the box, bit down hard on his wrist, and coated his fingers in his own blood. As Odin approached, his teeth white behind his beard, Loki drew Blood-Runes in great sweeping lines on the wall and chanted the most malevolent spell he had ever attempted. The Merkstaves twisted and writhed off the wall like the tentacles of a Lovecraftian monster.
Still Odin advanced, unfazed and smiling, severing the tentacles as if they were the plastic limbs of an ill-made toy. He reversed his spear and brought the shaft down hard across Loki’s shoulder, the blow reverberating through Loki’s bones and incapacitating him for a few desperate, vital seconds. The Merkstaves slid down the walls like liquid tar. Odin reversed the spear again, and instinctively Loki raised his arms to fend off the razor tip.
All at once Danny crawled out from behind him and grabbed the box Loki had dropped. The lid fell open and the feathers caught fire, sending up the acrid smell of incineration. In a moment they were mere silhouettes of ash in the scorched box.
Odin vanished.
Loki slid to the floor, nauseated with pain and the magical effort of using the Blood-Runes. The smears of blood remaining on the wall began to char like the feathers, turning black.
Utterly spent, Loki closed his eyes. At last he had obtained the proof he had been waiting for: Danny had untapped power of considerable magnitude, enough to send Odin away.
Witnessing such a display would have been a victory for Loki if not for the incident that had provoked it. It seemed that Odin, not merely his messenger, was in Midgard. He had escaped the bonds Freya had set on him and the other Aesir. He possessed Gungnir again
because Mist, as his loyal Valkyrie, would be glad to give up her responsibility for the Spear. And Midgard.
Loki pushed himself to his feet again, bringing Danny with him. How could he have been so blind? How could have failed to sense the return of the All-father?
With a groan, Loki lowered himself to the bed, holding Danny close as if he, too, might suddenly vanish. His only comfort lay in the knowledge that Danny had determined how to use the raven’s feathers against Odin. The mechanism was utterly foreign to Loki, and he would need to learn the secret of it quickly. And determine if the spell could be used a second time.
He lost his train of thought as Danny pulled away, slid off the bed, and walked the few feet to where Odin had been standing. He squatted to touch the ground, his face scrunched up in concentration.
It was more expression that he usually displayed. Loki staggered over to join him, pain radiating from his broken clavicle with every step. Danny touched the carpet. A ghost rose out of it as Danny drew away, a ghost that rippled and wavered like elusive heat waves on a long desert road.
Odin. Half here, and half not. Danny chuckled, passed his hand through the image, and then made a fist. The ghost flickered out, no more real than an image on a movie screen.
Loki sank to his haunches in shock. Danny looked at him, and whatever bond they shared, so fragile and uncertain, came to life with shattering clarity.
Odin hadn’t been here at all. Oh, he’d been real enough to break Loki’s bones, a manifestation that could only have been created by a being of great power.
Like Danny.
Pain seared Loki’s shoulder as he reached for the boy, and he dropped his arm. “Danny,” he said. “Tell me what you did.”
“I don’t know,” Danny said, each word spoken with clarity and understanding.
“Why did you do it?” Loki asked, touched by a fear even Odin could not incite. “Why send this vision to attack me?”
But the brief moment of communion was over. Danny had withdrawn into himself again, face blank, eyes unfocused. Loki knew from experience that it might take days for the child to respond again.
That was the least of Loki’s concerns now. However he had achieved it, Danny’s act suggested open hostility, though there had been no sign of any such emotion in Danny’s behavior afterward … only curiosity and amusement, as if he’d just discovered how to make his first sand castle. Loki glanced at the childish drawings pinned to the wall. Odin wasn’t among them, but if Danny had seen the raven, recreating Odin would pose no difficulty for the boy.
That still didn’t explain his apparent use of the feathers. Had he been unable to control his power and unconsciously realized that he needed certain magical tokens to contain it?
Wincing in pain, Loki looked for Miss Jones. The mortal had squeezed herself into a corner with her arms wrapped around herself and tears streaming down her face.
“Get up,” he said, his voice cracking with pain and anger. “Bathe Danny and put him to bed.”
The woman looked from him to the blackened smears on the wall. “What … happened? Who was—”
“If I were to tell you, Miss Jones, I would have to kill you. Do as I say.”
She dropped her hand from her mouth. “Yes, Mr. Landvik.”
Doing his best not jar his broken bones, Loki retrieved the box Danny had dropped. Once he had assured himself that Miss Jones was carrying out his orders, he walked out of the room. The Jotunar guards stared at him, aware that something had happened but ignorant as to the nature of it. The effects of Danny’s magic had clearly been confined to his room.
Loki almost forgot to step out of the elevator when it reached his private floor. So much depended on the extent of Danny’s power and the origin of the manifestation. And his reason for using it against his parent.
Taking in a deep, steadying breath, Loki returned to his room. His use of the Blood-Runes had slowed his healing, and he knew his shoulder would likely be stiff for a few days.
Fortunately, the exercise he had in mind would not require much use of it.
He called Nicholas and Scarlet to his bedroom. Dark-haired Nicholas, his personal assistant, wore a conservative suit, while blond Scarlet had poured herself into a tight leather skirt and spike heels. A zipper ran from waist to hem at the front. Loki knew from experience that she wore nothing but garters underneath.
Both mortals had ample reason to be grateful that he had taken them away from serving overpriced food to tight-fisted businessmen, and given them every luxury and pleasure they could imagine.
Including his own considerable erotic skills.
They were both sprawled across him, lost in an exhausted sleep, when his intercom buzzed. He shoved the mortals aside, grimaced at the pull on his shoulder, and threw his legs over the side of the bed. Since he had left strict instructions not to let any callers through except in case of emergency, he was very tempted to compose a spell that would teach his office administrator a lesson she wouldn’t soon forget.
But when she announced the name of the caller, he didn’t hesitate to take it. And when the call ended, Loki felt as if things were truly beginning to fall into place.
Perhaps, this time, he would not rely on a mortal or Jotunn to do a god’s job. If he was not gone too long, this world he had carefully constructed was not likely to fall apart in his absence.
And Danny needed time. Time to wake up again, and understand.
“Mr. Landvik?” Nicholas called sleepily from the rumpled bed. His hair, long and black like Dainn’s, fell enticingly over his pretty blue eyes. “You coming back to bed?”
“In a moment,” Loki said.
Nicholas shook Scarlet, who groaned as her round, reddened bottom scraped against the sheets. “Ouch,” she mumbled.
Turning his back on them, Loki went into the bathroom and splashed water over his face. He was reaching for a towel when the building shuddered and began to sway in the ungentle arms of an earthquake. Not a bad one, but after the others it would certainly attract the fearful interest of the city’s mortal denizens.
Loki paused and listened until everything was still again. Strange. He might almost have thought the epicenter was here in this very building.
“Mr. Landvik?” Scarlet said, the sheets falling away from her full, delicious breasts as she sat up straight on the bed. “What happened?”
“Nothing at all, my dear.” Loki smiled and joined her and Nicholas. “Believe me, you have nothing whatsoever to worry about.”
14
Ryan helped Gabi the rest of the way through the window, taking a firm grasp on her arms and catching her as she tumbled to the floor. They were lucky that at least one of the windows opened; the rest were the kind that didn’t. He still wasn’t sure how Gabi got to the second floor without anyone seeing or hearing her.
“You okay?” he asked, pulling her to the rickety chair against the wall. “You were gone a long time. I was beginning to worry.”
“It’s only ten o’clock,” she said, plopping down in the chair and scowling the way she tended to do when she was annoyed with his concern. “And anyways, I have some good news.”
Ryan’s heart sank. He knew the kinds of things Gabi considered “good news.”
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, rubbing her knee. “You’re the one who always wanted to prove we could do something useful before they sent us away like a couple of snotty little kids.”
Ryan sat on the floor beside Gabi’s chair. “We already went through this, Gab. I told you—”
“I know, I know. You changed your mind. Ever since that last argument with Dainn, when you finally figured out you was getting nowhere with him, and there was no way they’d let us stay.”
If only that were all there was to it, Ryan thought. If it were just what Dainn had said, like he didn’t even care that Ryan had warned him about Mist being in trouble.
That still wasn’t the worst. Feeling the giant dying … that had been bad, so bad that he’d fe
lt he might die, too. But he couldn’t seem to get anything right, now. He hadn’t warned Mist and Dainn about the raven, or Anna, because had hadn’t “seen” them.
Even when he saw something that really mattered, like the vision he’d had after Mist’s fight with the giant—the terrible burning brilliance like an exploding sun, ripping everything apart—he hadn’t been given the chance to tell Dainn and Mist the most important part: that they were at the heart of the holocaust.
Worse than that: they had caused it. He was sure now that they weren’t what they seemed. And whatever that was, it terrified him. He didn’t want to know how it ended. He wanted to pretend …
“You brought us here because you was so sure you had to be part of this,” Gabi said, cutting across his thoughts. “At the beginning, I thought you was loco. But now I know we have to do something.”
“And your way is running around trying to spy on the giants,” he said bitterly. “We don’t owe them anything, Gab. Let’s just go.”
She gave a dramatic sigh. “Muchacho, you can be such a pain in the ass. You have to go with Tashiro to make this work, just like we agreed.”
“You agreed, Gabi,” Ryan said, scrambling to his feet. “I never—”
“You find the money or whatever it is your aunt left you, and then we can help without letting them treat us like babies.” She grinned. “Listen, I told you I had good news. I found my brother.”
Ryan’s heart froze. “You didn’t go near him, did you?”
“Sure I did. He knew I was here in San Francisco when he got out of Lompoc. So he put out the word for me. I just let his homies find me. And you know what? He’s working for Loki.”
“Shit. How do you know that?”
“Some stuff he said about his boss. Look, I can learn a lot. I just hang out with them … you know Ramon won’t make me do anything that could hurt me. He was a shitty brother, but I’m still familia, all he got left except our abuelita. So I can listen, and when I get the 411 I’ll get it back to Mist. She’ll have to respect us then, right?”