by Linsey Hall
“But how?”
“I haven’t seen how. But none of this is outside of the realm of possibility.”
Fear shivered through Sylvi. “And it’s going to happen soon?”
“Two weeks, give or take a few days. I can’t be quite sure,” Aleia said. “Is this all? It’s bridge night and I’m really quite busy.”
Bridge night? Sylvi’s world was collapsing around her and the other seer was concerned with cards? “Yes. Yes, thank you.”
Aleia disappeared. Her mind tumbled out of her trance, desperate for the fresh, familiar air of her home.
Logan was telling the truth. And something was terribly, terribly wrong.
“Logan!” The voice boomed through Logan’s mind, pulling him from a dark slumber. “Wake the hell up!”
His eyes snapped open to find Sylvi standing in front of him, as tall and beautiful as he remembered her. He rose to his feet, surprised to feel almost normal again. Sylvi had helped him. No one had helped him in a long time. Not since Ian, when his friend had saved him from imprisonment in a tomb he’d been raiding.
It both annoyed and pleased him. Annoyed because he liked not needing anyone. Pleased because it was Sylvi.
Then he remembered that she’d knocked him out. “Why the hell did you put me to sleep? How long was I out?”
“Only a couple hours. I needed to figure out if you were telling the truth.”
“I didn’t lie to you.”
Her lips flattened. “No, you didn’t.”
“You don’t like that.”
“Of course not. I’d rather have a lie than my world collapsing around me. There’s corruption here.” Her fist clenched. “And it will destroy the place I love.”
“Exactly. The university isn’t what you think it is.”
Her eyes flashed. “No. The university—the core of its mission—is good. It’s not the entire university behind this, but whoever can hide such a massive operation is immensely powerful. They’re threatening everything I love! Of course I’d rather have a freaking lie.”
“So you’re going to help me figure out who’s behind this?” If she said no, he had a feeling he’d try to drag her along.
“Obviously. I don’t want you targeting the whole university when I know only a small part is the problem. And I don’t want myself, or the place I love, to get thrown under the bus in the process. You’re pretty good at that.”
He frowned. She thought he’d thrown her under the bus all those years ago? True, their history was complicated, but he’d never meant to do that.
They didn’t have time to work through that right now, but soon, they would. He had her agreement that she would come with him and it was enough for now. She did it to protect her beloved home, but she’d be at his side. He should try to turn her away and return to his original plan, but he couldn’t. She was smart and skilled and would be an asset. Maybe he should have planned to do it this way all along. He was just so used to compartmentalizing his life and he’d known she’d be a serious distraction.
“But we’re partners in this,” she said. “You’ll tell me everything you’re going to do before you do it. No surprises.”
Not like last time. She didn’t speak the words, but he knew what she meant. He’d gone off on his own in their past and made decisions she’d considered reckless. Ultimately, those decisions had ended them.
“Fine, no surprises.”
“Good. I followed you once. I won’t again. You’ve a knowledge of this situation that I lack. Tell me everything. Then we’ll go to some of my colleagues who I trust and get their help.”
He stepped forward, then stopped himself when her hand flew up to ward him off. He shoved down the disappointment and said, “Hell, no. We do it my way.”
She scowled. “Always your way, right?”
“I have century’s worth of effort invested in finding this place. I know how to handle this. The bureaucracy of the university will slow us down if we bring this to the university. And we don’t know who’s behind this.”
She arched a brow. “Afraid of them throwing you back in prison?” But he did have a point. She couldn’t be sure who was involved, though she was certain of several people who weren’t.
“No. I’m a damned god. Their prison can’t hold me.”
“Yet.”
“Exactly. We’ve got two weeks until the labyrinth is complete. According to Aleia and the map she made, we need to go to Petra in Jordan to retrieve something that will help destroy the prison. Once we have it, we’ll go from there.”
A banging noise sounded at the door.
Logan tensed and Sylvi whirled to face it. She spun back to him and pointed to the bedroom door. He nodded and made his way toward it. When he saw that it was a bedroom with a window, he diverted his path and slipped into the bathroom. He wanted to transform and didn’t want the green light to alert those outside. He caught sight of Sylvi’s annoyed gaze as he shut the door.
He grinned, then closed his eyes and focused on an image of a fly, letting the magic flow through him. It sputtered and stopped. He was too wounded. Shit. He hoped to hell that the guard wouldn’t search the house. He’d have to hurt him and that would really set things off.
“It’s the middle of the night.” Sylvi sounded annoyed.
“The prisoner is still loose. Have you seen him?” The gruff voice made Logan frown. He didn’t like the tone he took with Sylvi.
“No. And why the hell are you at my door?”
“We’re checking all buildings to make sure he hasn’t taken any hostages.”
“Well, I’m not a hostage. As you can see. Do you really think some escaped prisoner could get the drop on me?”
“No. No, of course not.” The guard’s gruff voice was now contrite.
“Exactly.” Sylvi slammed the door in his face.
Logan grinned. He’d liked the old Sigyn. He liked this new Sylvi even better. She didn’t need anyone to take care of her. Not that she ever had, though he’d tried.
Sylvi swung open the bathroom door. “You were supposed to hide in bedroom. He could have seen you!”
“He didn’t. I was going to shift, but I couldn’t.”
She threw up her hands. “Always doing it your way!”
“It’s the right way.”
“Debatable. But we should leave. I can intimidate that guard, but if his boss knows I didn’t let him in, he’ll come check himself. We need to be gone.”
“They wouldn’t recognize me. But yeah, let’s go.”
“I’m going to pack a bag really quick.” She glared at him, then turned and walked into the bedroom.
Her mention of packing a bag reminded Logan that his dirty pants felt even filthier than he’d remembered. He envisioned jeans, a gray T-shirt, and boots. The new clothes and shoes replaced his old and he followed her into the bedroom.
Sylvi threw clothes into a small duffel as quickly as she could, focusing on lightweight items that would do well in the desert. It wouldn’t be sweltering this time of year, but it’d be a hell of a lot hotter than she’d like.
Just like Logan.
Shit. Why couldn’t she keep her stupid mind off thoughts like that? Their history proved it was a bad idea.
But that same history proved how good they were together. It might have been a long time ago, and she might have been young, but it had been real. And more than good.
Yet heartbreaking. The thought hardened her resolve.
She swung her bag over her shoulder and headed to the living room to meet him before she could call herself a liar.
He stood there, looking too big and too dangerous in the pretty space. The sight made her heart speed up and no pep talk in the world was going to convince her that she wasn’t feeling something for him. The thing they had between them broke through all her defenses and it annoyed the hell out of her.
“Ready?” she asked.
He nodded.
“You still can’t aetherwalk?” she asked, remember
ing that the gods had stripped his ability to travel to any place on earth with merely a thought. In some cases, aetherwalking could be used to access the afterworlds, but only if the specific afterworld allowed it. Asgard, their original home, was cut off from them. But she never wanted to return to Asgard anyway.
“No,” he said.
Something in her chest leapt. Nerves, most likely. She’d have to touch him to bring him along when she atherwalked.
“Fine.” She walked to his side and wrapped her arms loosely around his waist, trying not to press too close.
He pulled her to him. The hard muscles of his chest stole her breath and made her imagine all the things they could do if he’d take off his shirt. She couldn’t forget what he’d looked like when he’d stripped it off earlier—all hard muscle and smooth skin.
“What’s the name of the town near Petra?” The ancient archaeological site of Petra was near a town, but for the life of her, couldn’t remember the name.
“Wadi Musa, in Jordan. It’s only about a mile from Petra.”
She closed her eyes and focused on the place. When she opened them, they were standing in a narrow, stone-paved alley. Early dawn light shone on the buildings and made the dry, desert mountains in the distance glow. It was morning here already.
“You really don’t know what’s at the end of the map?” she asked.
“No. Neither did Aleia. She made a map of what she saw in her vision, but it wasn’t very clear. Deciphering the map has been a nightmare. Ian’s been searching for three months and hasn’t yet found the key to the puzzle.”
“How do you know? You’ve been locked up.”
“Prison walls can’t keep me from what I want. Keeping track of Ian was easy.”
“Fine. But I’m not letting you out of my sight. You’re a fugitive, even if you aren’t Ian MacKenzie. You broke into the university and you’re attempting to dismantle it.”
“For good reason.”
She scowled and looked around. “What now?”
“I need a private place so that I can search for Ian. And you need a nap. We’ll get a hotel.”
The mention of a nap reminded her of how tired she was. She didn’t need as much sleep as a mortal, but she’d been up all night and a little rest would be amazing.
“What you need to do can be done in a hotel room?” Damn. That didn’t sound good. She raised her chin, daring him to comment.
The corner of his mouth kicked up and he nodded. “Immortal Fire. The corner of a hotel room will do.”
Of course. He had the power of fire, and Immortal Fire was a tool that opened a window into what one wanted to see, among other things.
“Fine. Where will we go? Is there a Mythean hotel?” Though it would be fine to stay in a mortal-run establishment, a Mythean hotel might have protections in place for their kind. Such places had charms that prevented violence within the walls in the event that warring species ran into one another in the lobby. And though Logan wouldn’t lose control of his fire, on the off chance he did, there’d be that much less to explain.
“There’s one just up this street.” He nodded to the narrow street at the end of the alley.
Her aetherwalking, by default, had taken them to a private place close to other Mythean activity.
She followed Logan through the alley and out onto the street. It wound up the hill and curved to the left. Old buildings, at least a century in age, surrounded it. To the left, the street sloped downward. She could see tall, modern hotels in the distance, but they were now in the old part of town. Arabic writing was scrawled across shop awnings, and there were no other westerners around.
It took them only a couple minutes to find the hotel, a three-story stone building that had no sign over its wooden door. It vibrated with magic.
Logan went in first but held the door open for her. Sylvi followed him toward the desk at the other end of the empty foyer. A pretty, dark-haired woman greeted them in English. Sylvi wasn’t surprised. She knew she looked as Nordic as a red woolen sweater with reindeer on it.
“We need a room,” Logan said.
“Two beds,” Sylvi added.
The girl’s dark eyes darted from Logan to Sylvi, then she checked her computer. It might be an old building, but the technology was sleek and small. “We have a double room on the third floor. 100 dinar.”
“Two nights. What wards do you have in place?”
“No violence, or you’ll fall unconscious. And anyone seeking you with ill intent cannot find you if you are within the hotel walls. You’ll be invisible to them.”
“Excellent.” Logan pulled a slim leather wallet out of his back pocket and withdrew a sliver credit card. Sylvi caught sight of the name—Heinrich Schliemann. No doubt an alias. Or stolen. She wouldn’t put it past him.
The girl ran the card and handed it back with a smile. “Top of the stairs, last room. Check-out is at eleven.”
“Thanks.”
Sylvi led the way up the stairs, remembering too late that this, no doubt, put her ass at eye level for Logan. It annoyed her. At least, that’s what she tried to tell herself. The back of her neck burned as she continued to climb.
The narrow hall at the top of the stairs led past two other doors. Logan stepped in front of her and slipped an old skeleton key into the lock. She followed him into the airy room.
They were at the back of the hotel and tall open windows provided a view of the dusty mountains in the distance. The sun was now shining golden and bright through the filmy white curtains fluttering in the wind. Two small, wooden beds were pushed against the walls and a rug with a complex pattern sat on the wooden floor between them. Good. She could keep an eye on him and have her own bed.
“I’m going to take a nap while you do your thing.” She tossed her bag at the foot of the bed. “I’m a light sleeper, so if you try to make a run for it, I’ll know.”
“I won’t leave you, Sylvi.” There was more behind his words than she wanted to acknowledge. She’d simply been talking about him not making a run for it as a fugitive of the university. Had he taken it to mean more?
It couldn’t mean more, no matter what they’d once meant to each other or how she was reacting to him now.
She looked away, unable to avoid his gaze, and climbed onto the bed. Though she closed her eyes, the knowledge that Logan was only feet away kept running through her mind. Her damn imagination kept replaying the sight of his bare chest, his handsome face, the heat in his eyes when he looked at her.
Though they’d been in love so long ago, they’d never actually made love. They’d been young and she’d thought they had all the time in the world. She’d been wrong.
Which left her here, now, remembering the skill of his touch and wondering what the rest would have been like.
Unable to help herself, she peeked up at him and found him standing in the far corner of the room. A small fire floated in the air before him. His black eyes were intense, purpose and dedication illuminating their depths. A sweep of black hair fell over his brow and his strong, elegant hands were outstretched to control the fire.
When she could finally drag her gaze away from the harsh beauty of his face, she noticed the images in the flame. A group of people sat in a small, windowless room on ornate Persian carpets. She couldn’t hear what they said and she had no idea if Logan could either.
She glanced back at his face. Still focused, still intense. Still so beautiful to her that it made her heart twist in her chest. She tried to force the thought away, to think about how he’d been a bastard to her at the end, but she couldn’t. She hated to focus on the bad things, so she chose the good instead.
Her tired mind replayed things that her body wanted her to remember. His skillful lips on hers, his strong arms around her, his clever fingers on her skin.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Hall of Aesir, Asgard, Home of the Norse Gods
Early Autumn, 1213 AD
Sigyn wound her way between the huge wooden tables full of reve
lers, a too-big haunch of roasted stag balanced precariously on the tray in her hands. One wrong step and the meat would plummet to the floor to be eaten by the dogs that roamed the mead hall.
The gods at the high table on the dais were already glancing around, scowls on their faces as they searched for the meat she was late in delivering.
She hurried to reach them, cursing herself for forgetting her duties while practicing her magic. Their displeasure would be her doom. Everything she wanted hinged on their approval—on her mother’s approval.
She grimaced at the feel of a palm landing briefly on her backside as she passed a bench of rowdy warriors who’d been relegated to the less honored section of the hall. But then, she reminded herself, they were honored just to be in the great Hall of Aesir, the meeting place of the most powerful of the gods. She was honored to be here. It was an honor and good fortune to be serving the high table.
She was a demigod and daughter of Freya, one of the greatest goddesses in Asgard. Sigyn had been born of Freya’s union with a dark, sacred magic. She was the only one of her kind, an anomaly who had the exceedingly rare opportunity to be raised to full godly status.
That was, as long as she didn’t anger or disappoint the other gods, some of whom disapproved of her unorthodox creation, before she completed her training in seidr.
If she could get this tray delivered, her duties would be almost over and she could go practice the sacred magic that her mother was teaching her. Mastering her skills, and gaining the approval of her mother and the other gods, would transform her from demigod to full god.
On that day, she’d no longer be serving this table. She’d be seated at it. The thought sent a shiver of aching want through her. To be somebody. To be a god.
She’d do anything for that.
Finally, she reached the edge of the dais and climbed the stairs in the darkened back corner.
“Watch it, you ham-fisted cunt.” The gruff voice broke through her reverie. Panicked, she glanced down to see her foot crushing the edge of Baldr’s cloak.