by S. T. Bende
Though it looked like that lighter had a leg up on both of us.
“Why don’t you go grab the bag while I work on this? The marshmallows are in there.” Tyr nodded toward the blanket.
“Fair enough.” I turned and walked the short distance to the blanket. By the time I came back, Tyr had managed to start a small fire.
“How’d you do that? And so fast?” Usually a fire smoldered for a while before the logs caught. After a lifetime of camping, I was no pyro-novice.
“You know I’m good with my hands.” Tyr raised an eyebrow.
I swatted him. “Seriously. There’s no way you got a fire going that fast.”
“You calling me a liar?” Tyr pushed himself to his feet and took a step toward me. I paused. It did seem like a silly thing to lie about.
“Um. No?”
“More conviction, please.” Tyr took another step, his eyes glinting.
“No. Absolutely not. Nope.” I dropped the marshmallow-filled bag and started backing up.
“I’m not believing you.” Tyr stepped over the bag. He was closing the gap.
“I’d never call you a liar. Ever.” I held up my hands.
“Too late.” Tyr took one more step, and I bolted down the beach, running in the soft sand. The ocean roared to my right, and Tyr’s footsteps thundered behind me. Before I knew it, he’d caught up; his thick arms wrapped around me from behind and swung me in a circle. When he set me back on my feet, I was dizzy, lightheaded, and laughing hysterically.
“You are so much trouble,” I said, for the second time that night.
“You have no idea,” he muttered.
“You keep saying that.”
“Trust me.” Tyr looked down at me, desperation in his eyes. I realized that he was trying to communicate something important. His words reverberated through my head. They were more than a passing comment—they were a pledge. And a plea. Tyr was laying his soul bare, exposing his deepest wish in two words. Trust me.
I blinked up at him, struck by the truth that had snuck up on me somewhere between our first run and our first grilled cheese, between the late-night phone calls and the picnic visits with Elsa, the evenings falling asleep in front of a movie and the mornings jogging in the forest. Tyr had eased himself into my life so seamlessly, I couldn’t imagine my world without him in it.
And I didn’t want to.
In that moment, I made a conscious choice. “I trust you,” I whispered, marveling at the truth of the words. I put my hand in Tyr’s and stared up at him. His face broke into a beautiful smile as he scooped me up and wrapped his arms below my bottom, so we were eye to eye. My heart thudded.
“Do you really?” Tyr asked.
“I do.”
With that, Tyr shifted me to one arm, and lifted his hand. He wrapped his fingers around the back of my head and crushed his mouth to mine, kissing me with a force that sent my poor heart into overdrive. Blood rushed out of my head on a breakneck journey south as I wrapped my legs around Tyr’s waist and held on tight. His palm caressed my bottom, softly at first, but increasing in pressure as he pulled me closer to him. His mouth moved to my neck, and he gently sucked his way to the neckline of my top. This would have been a really good night to have borrowed that deep V-neck in Charlotte’s closet.
“Say it again,” he growled into my neck.
“I trust you,” I whispered.
“Oh, Mia.” Tyr buried his face against my skin, and my breath caught as I made another choice. I was ready to show Tyr the depth of my trust. In the most important way I knew how.
Oh cheese and crackers. It was an enormous decision—I’d kissed three boys in my entire life, and I’d certainly never slept with anyone. These were really deep waters, and I was sure Tyr had swum in them plenty of times before. But I’d never felt like this about anyone; there wasn’t anyone else I wanted to be my first.
Suddenly s’mores were the furthest thing from my mind.
I lifted Tyr’s face and stared into his eyes. “Can we go home? To your place, I mean?” I asked.
Tyr watched me levelly, then set me on my feet, stalked back to the blanket, packed up our picnic, and snuffed out the fire. The whole circuit took less than a minute.
He took my hand and walked me to his bike without a word, placed the helmet on my head and gave me a determined stare.
“Hop on.”
We pushed the speed limit on the streets of Arcata, and when Tyr hit the forest he let loose. My arms squeezed his chest so hard I was afraid he wouldn’t be able to breathe, but we got to his house in record time, and he lifted me off the bike with minimal effort. He didn’t put me down until we were inside the foyer, and from the look in his eyes, letting me stand was just a formality.
My mind raced.
Tyr flipped on the lights, closed the front door behind him, and took my coat. He crossed to the hall closet and removed his own jacket while I fidgeted with the wrists of my sweater.
Tyr closed the door and turned to me. In five long strides, he was at my side. He wrapped one arm around me, pulling my lower back into his waist, while his other hand gathered my hair into a low ponytail. He tugged gently, and brought his mouth to my neck. His tongue was hot on my skin, its languid movement drawing a fiery trail downward. I threw my hands around him, reaching up to finger the soft hair at the back of his head. As I did, he licked a slow line up my jaw, then crushed his mouth against mine. His tongue pushed past my lips, gently moving in a maddening dance that left me squirming.
And then I heard the voice.
“Tyr! Get outside right now!” Freya pounded on the front door.
“For the love of Odin!” Tyr thundered. He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. “Don’t move. That’s an order.”
“Aye aye.” I saluted breathlessly.
Tyr didn’t take his hand off my waist as he reached for the door. He wedged it open just enough to poke his head through, all the while holding me tight against his side.
“What?” he hissed.
“That.” Freya pointed at something just beyond the driveway.
“You’re going to have to be more specific. And come back tomorrow. Because as you can see—”
Just then I heard a boom. It sounded like a clap of thunder let loose nearby. With a flash of light, something big and furry crashed against an invisible screen at the edge of the trees. Then it burst through, careening toward the house, and snarling through bared teeth. Freya dropped to a crouch, as if she were preparing to jump.
“Skit!” Tyr swore. He released his hold on me so fast I barely had time to gather my footing. He raced to the door next to the coat closet and entered a code into a keypad I hadn’t realized was there. The door sprung open. Tyr ripped out two futuristic handguns and a crossbow. Then he sprinted out of the house.
“Stay inside, Mia,” he commanded. I stood inside the front door, too shocked to move.
Tyr launched himself off the porch, flying a good twenty yards. He met the creature midair, their bodies entwining in a deadly dance, but instead of dropping to the ground, they stayed suspended two stories high, a blur of fangs, fur and fists. Something about the animal seemed familiar, but I didn’t have time to process the thought because a bluish light emanated from somewhere between my boyfriend and the beast. It grew brighter as they struggled—almost like the light fed off their energy. Tyr grabbed the creature’s ears and wrenched its neck. I heard a sickening crack, but the animal seemed unaffected. It just snarled and slammed its head against Tyr’s shoulder.
His crossbow fell to the ground with a clang. Tyr grabbed for one of his guns, but the beast swatted it away with one enormous paw, and Freya swore from the porch.
“He’s only got one left,” she muttered. “Double skit.”
“I can help. I’m a good shot. Give me one of those guns.” I darted for the closet, but Freya ran inside and grabbed my arm.
“Those guns are not for mortals. This isn’t something you can help with, Mia. Not yet, anyway.
”
Did she have to sound so patronizing? And what was with the mortal thing? Who taught these people their English?
“Look, you might be his best friend, or whatever you are to each other, but you’re not the only one who cares about him. He needs help. I’m an excellent marksman. Give me a freaking gun.” Something let out a growl from outside, sending goosebumps up my arms. “Now, Freya!”
“Sorry, Mia. No.” Freya sprinted out of the house and waved her hand at the doorway. She turned to the woods with a gasp as the beast lunged at Tyr. Sure, jumping in the middle of that fight would have been dumber than using the good scissors to cut chicken, but did the beauty queen really think I was going to stand by while the guy who owned my heart was mauled to death by some wolf on steroids? I ran for the open door, and cried out when my face struck an invisible surface. What the…? Freya looked back at me, sympathy in her eyes. I shook off the dull ache in my now-tender nose, and moved for the porch a second time, only to be stopped again by something I couldn’t see. There was some kind of a shield filling the doorway, keeping me from getting outside. Hold on. Freya had waved her hand. Did she have one of Henrik’s lighters, too? Did she use it to block me? Was she insane? Now I was trapped in the house, and the only thing I could do was watch helplessly while a horrific battle raged outside.
“Freya!” I shrieked. She was going to have some major explaining to do.
“Sorry, Mia.” She ran a hand through her strawberry locks. “Tyr would want me to make sure you stay safe.” With two graceful strides, she jumped high in the air and flew the twenty yards toward the altercation. How is that even possible? She landed on the creature’s back and started tearing, sending tufts of fur floating to the ground. The animal roared, and Tyr reached for his gun. He fired a series of laser beams into the animal’s neck, but it didn’t flinch. Instead, it grew very still, and gave Tyr a steely-eyed stare that left frost in my heart. Then it disappeared in a puff of smoke.
My face was pressed so hard against the invisible barrier at the door, I’d lost feeling in my nose. My fists pounded helplessly against the unseen shield like a pitiful, angry mime.
Tyr and Freya remained floating above the ground. Did the laws of physics not apply here? There was no way Henrik had invented something that could make them do that. Were they doing it on their own? And if they were… there was no way they were… were they even human? Mortal? What the hell was going on?
Freya saw me gaping and muttered something to Tyr. He glanced over his shoulder with a grimace, then put his gun in his back pocket and glided slowly to the ground. He didn’t break eye contact as he walked steadily toward me, pausing at the steps leading up to the porch. He held out his hands, palms up.
“Mia,” he murmured.
That was when I realized I was shaking, though with anger at being kept in the dark, or shock that the guy I thought I knew could fly, I hadn’t yet decided.
Tyr took two tentative steps onto the porch and stopped. He took in the way my body was pressed against the invisible barrier of the door, hands balled in tight fists by my face as if I could push through it with sheer willpower. My eyes were wet, my chin was quivering, and I stood on my toes, ready to bolt as soon as someone lifted the block.
“Hey,” Tyr whispered softly. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”
I shook my head violently. There was no reconciling the man I’d been dating for the past couple of months with the man I just saw fly, battle a monster, and fire off a laser. Not to mention the mysterious weapons closet he’d never mentioned—it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure crossbows and space guns were the tip of the iceberg in there. And the best friend who thought it was a good idea to lock me in the house like some simpering girlfriend had another thing coming. I was a girlfriend, yes, but I didn’t simper. I was tougher than she knew, and I was about to show her.
“You want me to stick around?” Freya came up behind Tyr.
“You,” I cried. “I don’t know what you are, or who taught you appropriate social behavior, but you are a major piece of work. It is not okay to lock people in houses.”
Tyr’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. If he had, I’d have thrown something at him, door barrier or no.
“I’m sorry, Mia. I really am. And I know that looked bad, but you have to believe I did it for your own good.” Freya held up her hands.
“For my own good? What is it with you people and those words? I don’t need you two protecting me. I can take care of myself, thank you very much. I could have shot that thing down, or at the very least distracted it. But your best idea was to lock me in the house with one of Henrik’s techy-lighters?” My voice had risen at least an octave. It wasn’t dignified, but I was well beyond caring.
“Henrik’s techy-lighters? What’s she talking about, Tyr?” Freya turned to Tyr. He tilted his head, looking confused.
“The techy-lighters.” I glared. “You know, the ones that made that bubble that kept the bad guy from seeing us on the beach, or wherever.” Freya stared blankly at me. “Tyr has one in his pocket. Show her.”
Tyr slowly pulled the lighter out of his back pocket. He and Freya exchanged a glance. They seemed to be having a silent conversation.
“See? The techy-lighter. Sorry I don’t know its proper name. That’s what you used to lock me in here, right? Right?” I waited for Freya’s confirmation, but she was silent. Tyr tucked the lighter back into his pocket, and Freya tore her eyes away from his.
“Mia, you and I can talk later. I’m truly sorry for upsetting you. I won’t lock you anywhere again.” She turned back to Tyr. “I’m going to leave you two alone. I won’t be any help here. Call me if he comes back. I’m sorry he got away.”
She was just going to leave? Just like that? And what did she mean, he got away? The creature had disappeared in a puff of smoke. I’d seen it. Surely he was dead, right?
“Step back, Mia.” Freya waved her hand at the door, and I pushed my hand through. The barrier was gone. She nodded at me and ran into the forest. I stared at the spot where she’d disappeared until I couldn’t hear her footsteps.
“Can I come in?” Tyr asked. His hands were still open—maybe to prove he was unarmed. Not that it mattered much—a guy who could fly and battle a creature that size wouldn’t need a weapon to debilitate me.
I gave him my finest stink eye.
“Please, baby. Let me explain.”
My eyes darted wildly between the forest and my boyfriend. There was a beast in the woods, but there was a man unaffected by gravity on the porch. One who had most definitely lied to me. I wasn’t sure which unnerved me more.
What I really wanted was to understand; understand how Tyr had done what he’d done; understand how he and Freya seemed human enough, but obviously weren’t; understand how that wolf was so powerful; understand how, if Tyr was an alien or a superhero or a mutant or whatever he was, how we could possibly have any kind of a relationship; understand why everyone but me had Henrik’s absolutely awesome lighters.
“I’m coming inside.” Tyr walked slowly, palms up, and stepped through the door. Then he walked backwards to the closet, where he hung up his crossbow and the two space guns. He shut the door gently, entered a code that I assumed locked the room, and closed the cover on the keypad.
I still hadn’t moved.
“Can I touch you?” he asked.
I nodded. Tyr slowly moved to my side. He took one of my balled fists and pulled me from the door.
“No more secrets,” he vowed. He pulled the lighter out of his back pocket and threw it off the porch. “Henrik didn’t make a special lighter. This is all me.”
He held out one hand and muttered something in Swedish I didn’t understand. Light shot from his hand and I spun around to follow its trajectory. It hit what looked like a clear screen at the edge of the woods, and traced an arc around the house in a half-dome, encasing the property in a silvery coating. Tiny spots floated gently from the dome, like thousands of luminescent
snowflakes, and soon the ground around the house was covered in a glittery powder. Tyr snapped his fingers and the powder disappeared. Everything was as it had been—it was as if the whole night had never happened.
My knees buckled as the room started to spin. Tyr caught me just before I hit the ground. He swept me up in his arms and carried me to the couch.
“Okay, prinsessa. Time for the talk.”
He tucked a heavy throw around my legs and sat next to me. He kept one of his shoulders an inch from mine. I cautiously turned my head to appraise him. On the outside, nothing had changed. His eyes were the same midnight blue, his jaw the same perfect square, and the enormous arms folded calmly across his chest were the same ones I loved to curl up in.
But everything felt different. I realized I had no idea who this man actually was, where he came from, and what else he was capable of. The only thing I knew for sure was that I needed answers. Real answers, this time. No more secrets.
I drew a shaky breath and spoke the words that would change my life forever.
“Who are you?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“MAY I?” TYR HELD out his hand.
I nodded.
He traced my palm with the pads of his fingers. “I might have understated my position when I told you I was in the military.”
“I figured.”
“I serve the Alfödr in a military role.”
“The all father…” I froze. “You’re in the Mafia?”
“No.” Tyr chuckled. “That’s the godfather. I serve Odin, the Alfödr. Father of all. Ruler of the gods.”
“So you’re in a—religious organization?” In other words, a cult. I’d learned about those in sociology class. Members suffer from deep disillusionment. I slowly extricated my hand and placed it in my lap. Tyr’s brow furrowed, but he let me go.
“What? No. Let me try again.” He looked at the recessed lights, then brought his gaze back to me. “Here’s the thing.” He took a deep breath. “I’m a Norse god.”