by Renee Jordan
“I never lie.”
“Except you said you do.”
“Was that a lie?” he asked with a smile.
“Why would he do that? He's my friend. He wouldn't put me here?”
“Odin is friend to no one,” laughed Loki. “Not to you, and certainly not to me.”
“But...you're his son, right? Or adopted son?”
Loki's face tightened and then he groaned. “Yes, those comic book movies. They certainly tried to catch my style, but they really failed in so many other areas. I am no man or god or giant's son. I am Loki. I have no origin. I have no beginning or end. I am the righter of balance, the tipper of scales, the tosser of dice.”
“No. Odin wouldn't strand me here,” I repeated. “I know him. He's a nice man.”
“Nice. What an interesting word to describe the God of Battles. Even a tyrant can be affable while sipping coffee in a cozy cafe.”
My eyes narrowed. “No. You're trying to turn me against Odin. I'm a Valkyrie. I, like, work for him.”
“Your parents worked for him, and that didn't stop Fenrir from devouring their bodies.”
“Odin came and protected me,” I declared, my anger growing. My memories were mostly back of that dreadful day. “He stopped Fenrir from devouring me, too.”
“Because he has need of you. Your parents had served their purpose. They brought you into the world. They weren't necessary any longer.”
“What does that mean?” I stepped forward, the point of my sword an inch from his suit. “Speak.”
“You are special, Raven. You need a friend. Someone who can reveal the lies that surround you.”
My lip curled. “And that's you?”
“Of course. Odin doesn't want you to know that you are different from the other Valkyrie. But why else has he spent all that time in the coffee shop watching you? Do you think you're his only servant? Do you think a god has better things to devote his time to than sitting in a cafe?”
I furrowed my eyebrows. “I...no. You are a liar. I can't trust what you say.”
“I never said you could.”
Why did that grin have to be so confident? So perfect?
“If you really want to help me, then tell me how to get out of Utgard and return to home. To Midgard. Otherwise, stop telling me such lies. Odin is my friend. He wouldn't send me here. What would be the point?”
“To test you. To see if you really are special. He may not tell you about the prophecy, but he believes it. Now he has to prove it. Once he does, he will use you to further his own power. It is disgusting how he treats his Valkyrie. If you were mine, you would never suffer such grief. You would have grown up with your parent's love instead of passed from foster family to foster family like some unwanted fruit cake.”
I so wanted to believe him. I so wanted to believe I was special, but I couldn't. This could all be a trick. I knew Owen. He wouldn't do this to me. What if it was Loki that stranded me here? What if this was all a game he played? A way to seduce me.
The hunger in his eyes was obvious. If I let my guard down, I would be taken right here in the kitchen. A part of me, a hungry ache in my depths, even begged for it. But I couldn't. I loved Magnus. I wouldn't betray him with someone so untrustworthy.
“Get out of here,” I hissed. “I think you did this to us. You brought us here. Magnus is angry. He'll tear you apart if he finds you. I'll tell him you're to blame.”
Loki smiled. “I have never wished you ill, Raven. Have you ever seen the International Fountain?”
“The one at the Space Needle?” I frowned.
“If you want to go home, you need to get to it. A root of the Yggdrasil ends at that fountain. It's the bridge you need. You have to ride the tree's root to get back home.”
My eyebrows furrowed. Was he lying? Could he be telling the truth, or was this a prank? He was a trickster. A sexy, hunky trickster.
No. Keep it together.
Loki stuck his hand in his pocket and came out with a set of keys dangling on a chain. One was long, like a car key, but the other was a short, tubular barrel. He tossed them at me. I caught them with my left hand, my right keeping the sword pointed at him.
Loki strolled out of the kitchen. He turned around the corner. I heard two footsteps then nothing.
Swallowing, I walked forward, my rope dragging the box of supplies after me across the linoleum. I reached the doorway and looked for him. He was gone. I frowned, my eyes scanning, my ears listening.
Outside, snow crunched. The door knob rattled. I turned, sword brandished, as it opened.
Magnus entered. I sighed in relief and let the sword vanish.
“Jumpy?” he asked as he strolled to me, caked snow falling off his jeans and boots.
“Yes,” I nodded.
His eyes glanced at the rope tied about my waist. “And, uh, that is an unusual belt?”
I hugged him and reminded myself for which man my body should be burning. The one I could trust.
Chapter Thirteen
Magnus
“What happened?” I asked her.
“There was someone in here,” she answered. “Loki.”
A tingle ran up my arms; I knew that name. “Did he do anything to you?”
“We just...talked.” I swallowed. “He wasn't scared of my sword or anything.”
“What did he say?”
Raven bit her lip. “Well, uh, lots of stuff about how he couldn't be trusted and, well, that we could get back home by visiting the International Fountain at the Space Needle.”
“The Space Needle?” My eyes narrowed. “There's something going on there. I could see when I went up to the top floor of this building. There were...sheets of light dancing through the skies around the Space Needle, like the aurora, but bursting from a plaza full of monsters.”
And there had been a large wolf. Should I tell her?
Yes.
“And Fenrir was there.”
“Fenrir?” she asked, her face tightening.
“I think so. There was a big, gray wolf near something that looked like a giant root rising out of something covered in ice. It could have been a fountain. Something golden stood before it, driving back the wolf with...well, rainbow light.”
“Loki said it was the root to the Igg..iegg...eegg something tree.”
“Yggdrasil,” I answered. “The great tree that grows through all the worlds, uniting them together. Its roots are said to end in magical springs.”
“Or fountains?”
“I guess that's the modern form,” I smiled. Could we trust Loki? Or was it a big trap?
“Did he say anything else?”
Raven licked her lips. “Well, uh, he mentioned a prophecy. Something about me being special.”
I nodded, then growled, “And is he the fucker that stranded us here?”
“I don't think so. He didn't say how we got here.” She held out her left hand, revealing a set of keys for a Harley motorcycle. “He also gave me these.”
She handed them to me. My eyebrows furrowed as I stroked the black plastic wolf head on the end of each key. “These are my keys.”
“What?”
“To my bike. I put the wolf head covering on myself.”
Raven suddenly darted away, dragging the box tied behind her. The box caught on the doorway and yanked her back with a gasp. Raven groaned and rubbed at her sore waist where the rope bit in. I hid my smile as I bent down and lifted the box full of supplies and food up in my arms.
“Is the rope to keep the supplies from vanishing?” I asked.
Raven nodded, heading towards the door that led to the garage.
“And what has you so excited?”
Raven opened the garage door and nodded. “I think Loki gave your bike back.”
“What?” My bike had been destroyed. That monster had crushed it yesterday right before he...killed me.
My eyes widened when I followed her into the garage. There was my baby, her body gleaming black like she had been fresh
ly waxed, the silver wolf's head on the gas tank snarling. Even my leather saddlebags hung from the back.
And then I laughed.
“What?” Raven asked. “It's your bike, right?”
“And it's completely useless. How can I drive it through a foot-and-a-half of snow?” I shook my head. “What a fucking joke.”
~ ~ ~
Raven
The bitter, hopeless laugh pained my heart.
It was clear he loved his bike. Just looking at all the little touches on the bike, the detailed wolf heads, the sparkling chrome of the pipes, the gorgeous, leather saddlebags hanging on either side, the extended handlebars. The bike was his steed. A hundred years ago, he would have been on a horse, racing through the scrub desert of the wild west. Before that, a knight charging in gleaming armor. In another age, he could have ridden into battle at the prow of a viking longship.
“Why would he give me the keys to something useless?” I asked, trying to keep the heat out of my voice. Loki hadn't lied about the fountain.
“Because he's a trickster god. He loves to play pranks.” Magnus shook his head. “And what a prank to pull. Fucking cocksucker.” His hand stroked the polished finish up to the leather seat. “Look at her, she's perfect and I have to leave her.”
Was Loki this cruel?
“What if it's not useless? What if it, I don't know, can drive across snow?”
“What?”
“We're in this...place. Things don't work the way they should here. Everything outside's covered in snow. There's no people, and yet electricity works. Things vanish or duplicate. I mean, I have six different copies of the same water bottle in the box. So maybe it means your bike can drive across snow.”
“That's ridiculous,” he snarled. “That's not the way things work.”
“In our world.” I smacked the thick, white button on the control panel screwed into the wall beside the door. I hoped it controlled the garage door.
An engine whirred to life. A chain rattled. The garage door creaked open, the aluminum sections folding as they reached the top and curved over our head. A cold wind gusted in, bringing in a powdering of snow to coat the cement floor.
“Let's go for a ride and find out,” I said, untying the rope around my waist. Loki wouldn't have given us this bike it we couldn't use it. Right? Did I want him to help us because we needed it or because of that confident, sexy smile?
Because we needed it. I hoped.
I hopped on the back of the bike.
Magnus shook his head. “It won't work.”
“It will,” I told him. “And you're going to owe me another back scrub when I'm right.”
“And if you're wrong?”
“You're supposed to say I'm never wrong,” I grinned.
Magnus arched an eyebrow at that.
“I'll wash your back,” I arched back.
“Now that's a wager I can make.”
“Because either way you win?” I asked. “If I'm right, you get your bike back. And if I'm wrong, well, I'll make sure it's a back washing you remember.”
Magnus made me so bold. It was like his no-nonsense attitude was infectious.
He walked over and climbed on before me. He used the car-like key to start his bike up with a growl. The seat hummed beneath me as the engine rumbled. The bike was hungry to be used. I still had no idea why one key was shaped like a barrel.
So I asked.
“It's for the saddlebags,” he answered.
“Oh,” I answered. I was vaguely disappointed by the prosaic answer.
The engine idled as Magnus walked the bike to the piled snow. He didn't want to risk slamming into the snow and spilling us. The front tire reached the snow. Steam rose as the snow melted, revealing the grease-stained driveway.
“Would you look at that,” Magnus whispered.
“You owe me a back rub.”
“It's like how you melted the snow during the fight. Raven, climb off. I want to see what happens.”
“Sure.” I hopped off the back, a big smile on my face. Loki had returned his bike. Maybe he wasn't as bad as he wanted me to think.
Magnus moved the bike forward. Snow crunched beneath the motorcycle's front tire. The snow didn't melt. I blinked in surprise. “What?”
“You're the one that melted it,” Magnus answered. “Guess I can't leave you behind.”
I put mock dismay on my face. “You were planning on ditching me in this cruel place?”
He grinned at me over his shoulder. “Nah. You're too exciting to leave behind. I'd get bored.”
“Good, let's load up the...” My eyes widened and I spun to look behind me.
The box with all the supplies was gone. I let out a frustrated groan.
Chapter Fourteen
Raven
I adjusted the backpack straps on my shoulders. It held a change of clothes for the both of us and heavy blankets. The food we fit in the saddlebags of Magnus's bike. The bike wasn't from this reality, but ours, and so food placed in the bags didn't vanish even if we both left the garage.
My heart picked up its beat as I glanced at the snow swirling down the street. It wasn't the blizzard from yesterday, but it wasn't the clear skies we had an hour ago. Dark gray hovered above, its uniformity only marred by the occasional turbulence of black.
The wind gusted into the garage, swirling around my feet. A loose strand of black hair that had slipped out of my ponytail caressed my cheek. I tucked it behind my ear with an absent motion. I walked to the edge of the garage and peered in the direction of the Space Needle.
The supplies were probably pointless. It wouldn't take long to reach the Space Needle, and even if we were stuck in this horrid place, the houses and businesses would constantly replenish with food and supplies for us.
That was a depressing thought. I imagined Magnus and I picking through the wintry ruins of Seattle, eating food that was only a reflection of our world, finding shelter from the endless snow. It was early summer in Washington. The weather nice. How bad would this place be in actual winter?
“Are you ready to do this?” Magnus asked.
He wasn't wearing a backpack. It would be awkward for me sitting behind him if he had one. Magnus walked to his bike and pushed the shotgun into a holster slung on the side of the bike. This wasn't the first time he had ridden with a gun on his bike.
I licked my lips. I wanted to ask him about his life as a biker. What did he do? Did he hurt people? When he walked into the cafe yesterday, he had a bruised jaw and a bandaged side. He had been in a fight.
The wounds were gone. Being brought back from the dead healed everything wrong with him, and not just the crushing blow the monster had delivered.
What sort of man did I love? A warrior trapped in an age of civilization? One who longed for liberties that were slowly disappearing bit by bit as politicians created more and more rules. They didn't even let kids play tag in school. No wonder he rebelled and tried to forge his own path.
Was it a path I could walk? What would happen to us when this was over?
“Raven?” he asked as he straddled his bike. He stared at me, his forehead scrunching. “Are you okay?”
I nodded my head. “Magnus?”
“Huh?” he grunted as he kick-started his bike. The engine growled to life, a wolf snarling as it charged its prey.
“The bruise on your cheek and the cut on your side. How did that happen?”
“Talon,” Magnus answered. “That asshole who tried to carry you upstairs.”
My jaw tightened. I remembered him. The man thought because I walked into his biker bar that I must want to have fun with him. He was strong. I didn't want to think what would have happened if Magnus hadn't shown up and stopped him.
“You...tracked him down?” I swallowed. Did I want a man that would do that? “Did you...hurt him?”
Magnus nodded his head. “I broke his arm. He came at me with a knife.”
“Oh. That sounds like you live a dangerous life.”
“Disputes? Violent disputes?”
“Sometimes. When you live outside the law, you have to take matters into your own hands.”
Could I be with a man that did that?
“I don't seek it out. That night, when I walked into their bar and assaulted Talon, I violated our truce and assaulted not just a club member but their vice president. It was an issue. So yesterday, I met with the Blood Eagles leadership to find a way to de-escalate before it broke out in violence.”
My eyebrows furrowed. “Did you...know that you were risking a...a fight with this club when you came to rescue me?”
“I'd be a poor man for letting any woman walk into that bar without knowing the score, and you definitely had no idea what you were in for.”
“You tried to warn me.” I blinked, tears hot in my eyes. “So it's my fault you were stabbed yesterday?”
“Of course not. I made the choice to walk in. I knew the consequences, and I had no qualms about paying them to get you out of there.” He took a step forward. “Just like I had no problem fighting Talon yesterday to settle the matter. But that asshole cheated. He drew a knife. It was supposed to be a fist fight. I even let him throw the first punch.”
A smile crossed my lips. “So confident you would win?”
A brash smile appeared on his. His right hand slid across my shoulder and up my neck to cup my cheek. His hands were rough and warm. “Does that make you feel better, or do you still fear my lifestyle?”
“Do you always know what's going on in my head?”
“No. But I can see the fear, and your questions were a little obvious.”
I blushed. “It...helps. I'm afraid what will happen when we leave here. I...I like you. I really like you, but...I'm just afraid I can't handle what your lifestyle is.”
“And is yours any better?” he asked with a smile. “Valkyrie?”
I hesitated. “Well...this is all new to me, too.”