by Amy Sumida
“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.
“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 t
hat 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.
“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.
“I do know you, Vervain,” Thor smiled when my jaw dropped. “Did you think I wouldn’t know the Godhunter when I saw her?”
“Godhunter?” My whisper was almost a whimper.
“Were you unaware that you’d made a name for yourself?” His eyes showed a little surprise too. Well, yippee-kai-yay, I wasn’t the only one in shock.
“I didn’t realize I was known to the Gods at all,” I had hoped my kills had gone unnoticed or at least unaccounted for by the rest of the Gods.
“Oh, you’re known,” his smile returned. “Did you really think you could kill Gods and no one would notice?”
“Well, it’s not like I left my business card.” Grisly scenes passed through my head. Images I tried hard not to dwell on and which I sometimes needed large amounts of alcohol to banish. I hunted Gods, it wasn't like I was going to give them a fair fight if I could help it. Most of the time I felt like an assassin, sneaking up on my unsuspecting victims and leaving bloody crime scenes in my wake. I never worried about getting caught since most of their homes were in the God Realm. It's not like the police would be investigating. So I never thought to cover my tracks. Maybe next time I'd torch the place when I was done.
“A few of the Gods you killed had surveillance systems,” he smiled as the blood drained from my face. Gods with security cameras. No, I hadn't counted on that. “You also left your scent everywhere. As soon as I smelled you, I knew who you were.”
“What, are you part Bloodhound or something?” I didn’t like being in the dark but then I was still fairly new to this game. Maybe I should cut myself some slack just this once. I'd have to be way more careful in the future though. Fire, definitely fire. It would take care of any trace evidence I left behind and be a double guarantee on death. If only I could burn the memories as well.
“We have very acute senses,” he licked his full lips and I couldn’t tear my gaze away. “Taste, hearing, touch, sight, and smell, they’re all heightened on us.”
“Well woopdee-diddley-doo,” I couldn’t help it, I was getting turned on and I needed to cover it up with something. Sarcasm won out as usual.
Thor did that godly laughing thing again, which did nothing for my efforts to tamp down my libido. Maybe I needed to start dating. Going five years without getting some lovin’ was not good for God-resisting. I made a mental note to go out that weekend.
“I forget how amusing humans can be,” he was laughing so hard he actually had tears in his eyes.
“Okay fine,” I sighed, “I’m funny and I stink. No matter how much you flatter me, I’m still not getting on your damn boat.”
“I didn’t say you smell bad,” he was getting that confused look again but at least the laughter had stopped. “Why don’t you accept compliments like a normal woman?”
“There is no normal here, Thor,” I said his name as if it explained it all. “Lots of interesting things going on but none of them are normal.”
“Point taken,” he licked his lips again, the bastard. “I’m intrigued.”
“No you’re not,” I put my pointer finger in his face, “you’re amused, remember? And the answer is still no.”
“I offer you my blood as safeguard,” he pulled a tiny blade from his pocket and cut his thumb with it. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, I would have laughed to see such a big man with such a tiny knife. But then if you’re that big, you don’t really need a large weapon, do you? He made Mr. Dundee seem like he was overcompensating.
I stared at the blood welling up on his thumb and didn't have a clue on how to proceed. I had the weirdest feeling he was offering me an extreme compliment and I probably shouldn't insult him by refusing, but what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t remember coming across this in Ku’s book. Did he want me to cut my thumb and press it to his or what? Was I going to be blood brothers, er... blood siblings, with a God? The confusion must have shown on my face because he smiled and suddenly went all deity. He looked at me as if he was bestowing a blessing on me and I had to shake off the sudden urge to kneel.
“Will you accept my protection?” He lifted his hand and his thumb hovered over my lips. The bead of blood seemed to shimmer as it welled up.
Oh damn. Wa
s he going to put his blood on my mouth? Gross. I couldn’t even bring myself to say yes, I just nodded and he instantly lowered his bloody thumb. I blinked as the shock-waves coursed through me. Tingling, biting power ran inside me like needle-legged spiders as I felt his blood melt into my skin. I absorbed it and knew immediately that his offer of protection was eternal. I was under Thor's protection. A God protecting the Godhunter. What irony.
“Why did you do that?” I rubbed at my lips and stared at the vanishing cut on his thumb, his body just kinda sucked the blood back in.
“We need you with us,” he slammed back another shot and his hand shook for just a second as he put the glass down. “We can’t fight both you and them. Now, do you accompany me to my boat or not?”
Chapter Three
I don’t mind boats. As long as they stayed afloat and kept me out of the water. It was the ocean I had a problem with and I blame my paranoia on my mother. She'd been a young woman when she had me and instead of staying home, wasting her youth, she took me out with her. I loved my childhood and will physically assault anyone who dares to say my mother was a bad parent but sometimes it's not the best idea to cart a kid along.
One of those outings had been to a yacht party. I don’t remember much about the festivities but I remember the boat. When, as an adult, I’d mentioned the memory to her, she had nervously asked what else I remembered. I pressed her to elaborate. She said there was a small space of time when I’d gone missing and they had finally found me overboard. I was three. She sees no connection to my fear of the ocean.
To be completely honest, I must admit that Jaws played a small part in my terror of the deep blue as well, and an even bigger role in me not taking up surfing (I don't like feeling like bait, thank you very much) but I had no thoughts of killer sharks when I boarded Thor’s floating behemoth. I didn’t think about the water at all actually since the boat… ship… whatever, was so big, I forgot the ocean was even there. No small feat when dealing with me and my paranoia.