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A Harmony of Hearts_Book 3_Spellsinger Series

Page 27

by Amy Sumida


  I was just about to get up and sample some of those flavors from a nearby Shave Ice truck when a dark shadow passed over me, sending a shiver down my spine. No, the shiver wasn’t because of the sudden relief from the sun. It was magic, strong and confident magic, almost cocky actually. I knew that magic, had in fact kicked it in its balls quite recently. I turned my head slowly, muttering a protection spell under my breath while reaching for my stash of powdered mullein.

  “That’s not necessary, witch,” Thor’s previously resonant voice was severely toned down for his foray among the humans.

  “I’m nothing if not cautious,” I smiled at Thor like he was an old friend as I jumped to my feet.

  My legs itched to run but it wouldn’t do any good. The crowds around me were thick with vacationing families and honeymooners. If at all possible, I wouldn’t involve innocent bystanders and I was hoping he wouldn’t either.

  “I’m not here to harm you,” he grimaced.

  He'd taken the time to change his clothes before following me. Maybe he was afraid the leather lace-up pants of his previous ensemble would have made him stand out on a Hawaiian beach. Instead, he wore a pair of khaki pants and a tan silk Aloha shirt. He looked like a local businessman on his lunch break. A local businessman with golden-red hair streaming past his shoulders, bone structure that would make a Roman statue weep, and a body that looked like it spent more time in a gym than a boardroom.

  I kind of missed the leather.

  “No, you’re here to wow me with your literally classic good looks and your modern Hawaiian fashion sense,” I looked him over pointedly, just to let him know that I found his outfit amusing. That’s it. Really.

  “Would you join me at the closest drinking establishment for a cocktail?” His lips didn’t so much as twitch, even though his eyes sparkled a bit.

  “I’m sorry, I think I have sand in my ears,” I shook a finger vigorously in my left ear. I wouldn’t have put it past the alien-fungus. “I thought for a second there that you asked if you could buy me a drink.”

  “I did,” his smile spread over his face like a cat stretches in the sun; slowly and sensuously, as if it had all the time in the world and was fully expecting a good scratch beneath the chin later.

  I stood gaping for a moment before trying to recover. “Uh… why?” Yep, that’s me, Lucy Loquacious.

  I thought seriously about extending the knives from my gloves. The gloves I wore were part of the loot I’d made off with that day at Ku’s. They had 3” long daggers resting inside them, flat against the backs of my hands until a sharp, downward movement would trigger their release. Then they extended over my fingers like lethal claws. I felt like Wolverine when I wore them but more importantly, they were deadly, turning every punch into a four-way stab.

  They were also a little showy for Waikiki Beach.

  So was my kodachi which, for the moment, was camouflaged with a slight blurring of magic that made it blend into my leather pants. Maybe I could go for the dagger I kept down my top. The kodachi and dagger were just of human make but I'd embedded them with magic for increased damage potential. The sword was perfect for taking a god's head. The curvature of the blade gave me the extra oomph I needed to make it a clean cut but I wasn't about to behead Thor in the middle of Waikiki. The dagger would probably be the best choice for the situation. Maybe I could throw it at him and run away screaming.

  “I’d like to talk to you,” his eyes strayed to my cleavage and I told myself it had nothing to do with the hidden knife and everything to do with my 36 double Ds. Call me vain but I’d rather have him checking me out than knowing where my weapons were hidden. Mae West said it was better to be looked over than overlooked. Well, I needed him to do a little of both, look me over and overlook my knife. It was a survival issue and had nothing to do with him being hot.

  I know, I sound full of it even to myself.

  “Do I need to bow my head and clasp my hands first?” I backed up slightly and took a quick look around, trying to find a possible escape route.

  He laughed, wild and rich, like drumbeats after midnight. It caused a visceral reaction in me, calling to something primitive in my blood and making me sway towards him. People stopped and turned to look at him. Hell, even I stopped scanning the area and just stared at him in shock. The tourists, however, looked at Thor eagerly, as if he were some kind of celebrity they might recognize if they stared long enough. In a way, I guess he was.

  “For you, I’ll make an exception,” he reached out and I tried to back up but the rock wall brought me up short. His hand dropped but his smile stayed put, “Just one drink.”

  “Fine, follow me,” I turned and walked down the sidewalk casually, like it was just another beautiful day in paradise and I wasn’t still a little shaky from that sexy laugh. The sun was shining, children were splashing in the waves, and a Norse god was about to buy me a drink. Yep, everything normal here. I dropped my empty coke bottle into a trash can marked Mahalo (it means thank you not trash) and kept walking.

  He didn’t say a word while we walked, which would normally creep me out, but I was a little too busy freaking out about everything else for it to matter. Was I really going to do this? Sit down and have a drink with an Atlantean? This so wasn't part of my job description. What the hell was going on? The only interaction I had with gods was done at the end of a blade. Plus, in my experience guys didn’t offer to buy you a drink after you kneed them in the groin. Maybe it was that whole divine forgiveness thing? I glanced back at Thor and he grinned devilishly.

  Nope, wrong god.

  I led him up the shaded drive of the first building at the end of the beach. We headed up the wide white stone stairs and through an airy lobby to the bar of The Hau Tree Lanai. Very posh. I don’t get a god offering to buy me a drink every day, might as well make it a good one.

  I found a little table near the rear of the bar and sat down with my back against the wall so no other hot er... dangerous gods could sneak up on me. Thor slid in across from me, almost completely blocking the view. I peered around him for a second and then gave up. I figured I could make do with the view I was left with. Mainly him. Hey, I can be accommodating.

  “Nice choice,” he glanced over his shoulder at the open-air restaurant which ended abruptly in a short wall and then gleaming beach. It was too early for dinner so the patio was empty, wrought iron dining sets waiting patiently for the night's excitements. A mynah bird cawed and took flight from the tree in their midst.

  “Robert Louis Stevenson’s house was right there,” I pointed to the Hau tree, floor tiles imprisoning its small circle of earth. “There’s a picture of him lying beneath that tree.”

  “Interesting. Do you come here often?”

  “Really?” I shook my head and pushed a frizzy strand of hair behind my ear. Damn humidity. I had my waist-length dark hair in a tight bun at my nape. Usually, I wore it up when I went out hunting but it was baby fine and was always trying to escape my evil clutches. “That's all you got? I expected better lines from you Thor, you being so… experienced and all.”

  “Unbelievable,” he laughed again as he leaned back. “It's been a long time since I've met someone so entertaining when they're so scared, Ms… ?”

  “Miss is good,” I smiled again. I wasn’t about to repeat my stupidity so soon, “and I'm not scared.”

  “Then you have the advantage of me, Miss,” his eyes gleamed as he leaned forward, completely disregarding my lie. “Concerning my name I mean.”

  “I’ll take every advantage I can get,” I looked up at the sudden appearance of a waitress.

  “What can I get for you two?” She stared only at Thor.

  I couldn't blame her, though it made my lip curl in distaste. Guys as good looking as Thor always came with an attitude to match. Add to that, his “godhood” and you have a grade A, egotistical bastard. Give me a nice average human male over Mr. Gorgeous any day. The only problem was, Mr. Average wouldn't understand my hobby.

&n
bsp; “I’ll let the lady order for us,” he smiled at her, nodded graciously, as if he were accepting his just due, and then looked at me expectantly. I shook my head, suspicions confirmed.

  “A bottle of Patron Silver and two shot glasses please,” I smiled sweetly at the poor woman, who obviously hadn't learned to be more wary around the hotties.

  The waitress raised her eyebrows but just asked if we needed limes and salt along with. Very professional. Very used to rich alcoholics. After she sauntered off, I looked back at the god incognito seated across from me.

  “I thought you only wanted one drink,” he was smiling again. Did he never stop or was it just a clever way of lulling me into a false sense of security?

  “I didn’t say one, you did,” I leaned back and crossed my legs, not to be ladylike but just to have an excuse to be a little further away from him. I had no idea what he was up to and I wanted as much room as possible to reach my weapons if necessary.

  “Alright,” he did that head incline thing royalty does but he did it better. “Good choice, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a tequila drinker, though.”

  “You’ve known me all of thirty minutes,” I smirked, “part of which you spent on the floor groaning. You shouldn’t have pegged me for anything other than a woman to guard your goodies around.”

  “I don’t know,” his eyes went suddenly still. “I think I could hazard a few guesses.”

  Maybe it wasn’t wise to remind him of the specifics of our introduction but hey, I just couldn’t help wanting to bring him down a notch. Cocky guys put my teeth on edge.

  “Try me.” I narrowed my gaze on his twitching lips but then noticed how his eyes remained solemn.

  “I’d say first of all that you’re some kind of an artist,” he leaned in even closer as he spoke, “you paint and your favorite subject is people.”

  I went quiet and as still as his eyes were. The statement was accurate, too accurate. I started to wonder how much the gods knew about me until I noticed the spot of oil paint on my pinky. Phew, I smiled.

  “Very observant,” I shook my traitorous finger at him.

  “How would I know about your subject preference?” He smiled and leaned back for the waitress to deposit our order on the table between. She poured us each a shot before leaving and I was grateful for the Twix moment.

  “Lucky guess,” I reached for my glass and eyed him suspiciously over the rim as I sipped. I only shoot tequila when I either; A. Want to get drunk, B. Want to act tough, C. Want to get someone else drunk, or D. Any combination of the above.

  He shot his and poured another.

  “Tell yourself whatever you want, Miss,” he saluted me with his glass and downed it.

  Show off. I was so not going to rise to the challenge. He was a god. He could probably process alcohol in a heartbeat. Of course, I'm part Japanese and could do a fair amount of alcohol processing myself. I’m told it’s an allergic reaction a lot of Japanese have but basically, it results in me being able to drink with the big boys but look as if I’m embarrassed the whole time (my face turns pink). I didn’t want to let him play on my insecurities but then again, I’d been the one who ordered the damn bottle in the first place.

  I threw back my shot and pushed it toward him. Oh well, I’m only human, put me down for B. Want to act tough.

  “What do you want, Thor?” I pulled my glass closer after he refilled it and lifted it to my lips.

  “You,” he smiled serenely.

  I sputtered and almost wasted good tequila. I said almost.

  “Excuse me?” My hand hovered mid-air, unsure whether to continue with the drinking program or just give up in favor of open-mouthed confusion.

  “I think we’re after the same things,” he reached over and gently nudged my glass upwards. I drank the rest of the shot without thinking and without taking my eyes off him.

  “I barely know you,” I turned the glass over this time. “How could you possibly know what I’m after?”

  “You were trying to steal the same information I was,” he shot a quick glance around the bar.

  “Trying?” Questions flew around my head like annoying gnats. Was he sent to get the plans back? Oh, did I mention I had the forbearance to grab said plans while I was kneeing him? Well, I did and now the Norse God of Thunder sat across from me drinking tequila and talking about wanting me due to our similar goals. Why hadn’t he just killed me and taken the plans if he wanted them? Why all the games? What the hell was going on?

  “You do have them,” he smiled like a cat that had just found a fallen bird-feeder… still full of birds.

  “Why would you be trying to steal them?” I ignored how sexy his smile was. I am a professional after all.

  “Not all gods are as horrible as you think,” he downed another shot, his eyes narrowing briefly under his furrowed brow.

  “Yeah, that’s what the Christians keep telling me,” I smirked. “Can’t say for sure though, never met Jesus, just a few Mexicans with delusions of grandeur.”

  One perfectly formed eyebrow winged upward over the swirling blues and greens of his eyes. Was it the tequila affecting me or were the colors really flowing together like mist? I pushed the shot glass away from me and sighed. It wouldn’t do to get all sloppy drunk with a god. Who knows where I’d wake up. Or if I'd wake up.

  “Some of us don’t agree with the majority,” he pretended to misinterpret my signal to stop drinking and refilled my glass before placing it back in front of me. I stared hard at it for a second so it knew who was boss, then picked it up and took a resigned sip.

  “What do you mean you don’t agree?” I looked around and faintly realized the sun was setting. Oh great, time for the rest of the monsters to come out and play.

  “I don’t think we need people to die for us to give us power,” he frowned at my distraction and I settled my attention back firmly onto what he was saying. “Most of us believe it’s the only way to raise as much power as the freely given blood used to bring but I don't agree.”

  “The blood?” I smirked at him and shook my head. “You mean sacrifice, specifically human, don’t you?”

  “I believe that's what I just said,” he sighed. “There’s no way around the fact that blood holds life and life is magic. When people sacrificed to us, we gained their magic and there’s nothing like it. The sacrifice of animals was good too but it was only due to the magic imbued into the blood by human intention and it never came close to the power of a human life. It’s that rush of magic that my fellow deities are striving for. They plot to bring war among your kind so you’ll kill each other in their name again, this time on a mass scale, and they'll all share in the waves of energy it brings.”

  “Yes, yes,” I waved a hand imperiously. “I know all that. What I don’t know is why you, the God of Thunder, God of War, God of the Vikings who were known for their viciousness, would suddenly grow a soft spot and decide you don't want us to fight anymore.”

  “Trust me, I have no soft spots,” his lips twitched a little. “I just don’t think mass destruction is a good idea. You know about us, you know we need followers to grow in strength. The more people remember us and respect us, the more we thrive. Some of us have grown immense in ability. What you might not know is that we don’t need any more power to survive. Our talents are old and our magic will sustain us until the earth crumbles away and is nothing but so much debris. Even then, we may still survive to find another suitable planet. And by the way, I’m not just a god of war; I also rule the sky, all storms, sea-journeys, and justice.”

  I could feel my eyes grow round at his candor. I had no idea they were strong enough to survive eternity without our sacrifice. I'd always assumed that without humanity the Atlanteans would have died out long ago. I knew their magic was great but I had no idea it was comic book, super villain great. My own magic seemed a poor shadow of it, although Ku’s book held enough of their spells to bring me a little closer to their level. Without that book, I'd already be dead.
r />   “Impressive résumé,” I found myself shooting tequila again. Damn it, I had to stop that. “It still doesn’t explain why you’d choose to miss out on all the extra power.”

  “Like I said, I don’t think the current course of action is wise. The way things are heading, your kind could blow the whole world apart and I like it here.”

  “Cause it's where you keep your stuff?” I smirked.

  “Some of it,” he smirked back.

  “So what do you propose?” I could feel the stolen documents crinkling against my waist. The black silk of my top was already limp from the heat so it was a good guess he knew where said documents were. I reached to pull them out but his hand flew across the table and grabbed mine.

  “Not here,” he caressed my hand along the line of the glove, where the leather was cut to leave my fingers bare. I assumed he was trying to make it appear, to anyone who might be watching, that affection had been his true intention. “You wisely chose a public place to speak with me but if we go any further, we need privacy.”

  Privacy. Go any further. The words seemed to curl in my gut and try to snake their way lower. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be alone with the Nordic giant. It had been awhile since I was alone with any man in a non-killing sense, and the last time hadn’t turned out so well.

  “What do you have in mind?” I slid my hand out from beneath his and he turned his head to the side, a little wrinkle appearing between his brows.

  “I have a boat up at the Yacht Club,” he pulled his hand back and used it to refill my glass. The wrinkle disappeared.

  “Like I’m going to follow you onto your boat,” I huffed.

  “Do you have a problem with boats?” His eyes crinkled at the corners and just for a second, I wondered exactly how much he knew about me.

  “You think you know me?” I narrowed my eyes at him and tried to look as fierce as possible, which is difficult when you’re built like I am. Oh, I worked out but I wasn't what you'd call ripped. My love of food prevented that and normally I preferred it that way. A woman should look like a woman. Unfortunately, my lack of height on top of my lack of obvious muscles didn’t exactly make me Amazon warrior material. What it did do was make it hard for me to look terrifying. I was about as scary as an angry Poodle.

 

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