by Laurie Dubay
That voice, rough and smooth, a beach of white sand. I opened my eyes.
“John Updike,” Loki said, his eyes Caribbean blue now, and sparkling. His hair was combed back off his face, his skin like porcelain in the sunlight. He glanced down at his skis. They were a metallic chocolate that matched his pants and jacket, but tattooed over the surfaces with bright yellow dots and swirls.
I slid back a little and he pointed to my board with his pole.
“Didn’t take you for a boarder,” he said.
“Why not?” I glanced at the skiers and riders rushing past us on both sides, making their way to the lift. Bren told me Loki probably wouldn’t cause trouble in public, but I found it hard to believe anyway, in the light of day, that he could be so terrible.
“Skiing’s more graceful. Don’t you think? Riding is so aggressive…all that stomping around and tearing everything up like Godzilla attacking the city. Besides,” he said, gazing down at me with a smirk that was mostly in his eyes. “Skiing is easier to learn. They say.”
“I doubt that,” I said, motioning to his skis. “There are two planks to control instead of just one. Your legs could be snapped off like twigs.”
“Horrible image.”
“And what makes you think I’d choose the easiest thing?”
“Doesn’t everybody?”
“Do you?”
I felt a jolt of fear run through me as his eyes steadied on mine, the amusement in them freezing over. I fought to be still, to hold my expression as I had the night before when Fenrir loomed in the shadows, but the air grew thick and heavy between us, and my gaze finally dropped under the weight of it. I stared at the white collar of his t-shirt and focused on the necklace hovering just above – a round, blue stone fastened close around his neck by a leather strap. The stone was the same color as his eyes. He reached up and touched it, his fingers moving over the surface.
“Don’t you see how you’ve chosen what’s easy, Jenna?” He asked. I lifted my eyes to his face. His expression was softer now. “Easy to be afraid of me. Easy to believe what they’ve told you.”
“Are you saying it’s not true?” I would never have taken his word over Bren’s, but my mind craved an explanation, some way to balance what I knew with what I saw.
“There is no truth.” He said. “Only perspective.”
“Sounds like you’re avoiding my question.”
He laughed a little. “That is the way of the gods.”
And I knew that at least that much was true.
I cocked my head to the side, squinted against the sun as I peered up at him. “Where’s Fenrir?”
“Resting. He’ll be sorry to have missed you.”
“I thought he was going to eat me last night.”
“So did I.”
“And you would have let him?”
He shrugged. “How do you think he got so big?”
I thought I detected humor in his tone and wondered if it was wishful thinking.
“You lied to me,” I said, as if to make an argument for heeding Bren’s warnings. “You said he was an Alaskan Malamute.”
“I told you what you wanted to hear. What would you have done if I’d told you what he really was?”
Peed my pants, I thought.
“Exactly,” he said. I slid back further. He dropped his hand from his necklace. The stone looked darker now and I checked his eyes. Darker.
“You’re honest,” he said. “That’s rarer than you’d think.”
“How do you know I’m honest?”
“You’re easy to read,” he said.
“I have a feeling it wouldn’t matter.” My voice was shaky.
He stepped closer to me and grinned. “No, it wouldn’t.”
I leaned back, my eyes moving over his face. I felt as if I couldn’t see him whole, like I was playing the game where you are given a close up of one part of something and have to guess the entire image.
“Why are you here?” I asked before the sentence had even formed in my head.
We stared at each other for a long time, the lift and the hill and the noise around us a faded backdrop hung behind this sharp, bright moment.
Before I even registered his turn, I was watching his back as he skied off toward the terrain park. He did not propel himself, but rode his skis like blades, his body still, his poles pointing stiffly behind him. And no one noticed.
I rode the lift back up to base, agonized. There was no doubt in my mind that I should not keep this from Bren. They’d want to know everything. But it was such a quick conversation. Nothing, really. And Bren would freak out, insist on the babysitting thing, and basically imprison me in my own life. Trying to deal with my mother under those conditions would be nearly impossible, and it wouldn’t be worth it. I decided that their attention would be best focused on finding out what Loki wanted.
I put my board in the rack, unzipped my jacket and climbed the stairs to the deck, meaning to get my backpack and catch up on my homework in the lodge, but as I reached for the door handle, I caught Skye in my peripheral vision, standing against the far railing. Her stare was pointed, so I dropped my hand and walked over, stopping a few feet away. She was wearing her instructor’s jacket, which hung halfway down her thighs and looked a bit awkward on her, and a purple hat that matched her streaks. Her legs were pressed together, her arms in a knot across her chest.
“Make a new friend?” She asked in her emotionless tone.
“Not exactly.”
“Are you going to tell Bren?”
“Are you?” I watched her violet eyes, steady on mine.
She shrugged. “Your call.”
We were quiet for a moment.
“I don’t think it’s a big deal,” I said. “He has enough to worry about.” I gestured toward the bunny hill. “That was nothing. Stupid. I don’t want to upset him for no reason.”
“So it has nothing to do with your not wanting a bodyguard?” She turned to face me squarely. “Unless it’s Bren, of course. And just to let you know, if you think you can walk around here completely clueless as long as there are people around, then you do not understand this situation.” She leaned forward. “Loki does not care about anyone. Not us, not you, not your mother, not hundreds of vacationers. No one.”
“I’m not walking around here completely clueless,” I said.
“Really?” She raised a brow. “Then why didn’t you see him coming?”
“Because I do not have supernatural vision,” I snapped.
“Exactly.” She let herself fall back against the rail with a satisfied smile.
I threw a glance at the sky. “Look,” I said. “Just tell me if you’re going to tell Bren or not.”
She lifted a shoulder, let it fall. “He’d know if he wanted to.”
“What does that mean?”
She hissed out a chuckle, her way of punctuating my ignorance. “Bren can see people’s thoughts better than I can. He’s not in your head because he chooses not to be. He thinks it’s disrespectful.” She rolled her eyes. “The two of you are going to get us all killed with this ‘I’m such a good person’ crap. It makes me want to throw up.”
“The bathrooms are inside to the right.” I said coldly. “So are you going to tell him or not?”
“Do what you want. I’m out.” She skirted around me and stomped away, her footsteps too thunderous for her tiny build.
Chapter 23
Just as I was finishing my homework in the lodge, I got a text from my mother. She wanted us to have dinner together. I called Bren to let him know.
“I just got off my shift,” he said. My breath caught at the sound of his voice. “How long do you need?”
“I’m not sure. Not long. I think she’s just feeling like we need quality time or something. I can text you when we’re done.”
“Yeah, okay. And listen, do not. Do. Not. Walk over here without me. I will come there when you’re finished. Understand?”
“Got it.”
My mother and I made spaghetti and meatballs and pretended our earlier conversation never happened. I told her about Brianna and how we weren’t speaking because of Bren, leaving out the part about Tyler, and she said there was a Brianna in every class in every school, and that they usually ended up closing small bars in small towns every night while their kids ate fast food and put themselves to bed. It was supposed to make me feel better, but it was sad, and I dropped my last forkful of meatball back onto my plate.
After we cleaned up, my mother watched me text Bren and then we went down to the lobby together.
“Why don’t you ask him to come say hello before you go?” She said.
“Now?” My chest felt tight. I didn’t know how he’d react to being asked to meet my mother. It was probably on his bucket list right after ‘have eyes gouged out with hot pokers.’
“Yes,” my mother said. “That would be nice.”
“For who?”
I thought my mother would correct my grammar, but she just stared, so I went out to fetch Bren.
I caught him at the top of the stairs and he grabbed me right away, holding me so tightly that I couldn’t take a breath. I closed my eyes.
“My mom wants to meet you,” I said, my voice muffled against his shoulder.
“Now?”
I nodded. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay.” He kissed the top of my head. “I showered and everything.” I glanced up at him and he grinned. “Let’s do it.”
We walked back into the lobby, holding hands, and stepped around the reception desk.
“Mom?” I peered into the office from the threshold. She was standing there holding her coffee, waiting. She turned and put the mug on top of a file cabinet and waved us in.
“This is Bren,” I said. “This is my mother.” I made an awkward sweeping motion back and forth between them with one hand.
“Do you prefer Mrs. Dewitt, or…” Bren left his question open and put his hand out. My mother took it, a tiny smile of surprise on her lips.
“For the moment, yes, but thank you for asking. It’s nice to meet you, Bren.”
“Same here,” he said. “Jenna talks about you all the time.”
“I’ll leave that one alone,” she said, and they both laughed.
“No, it’s all good,” he said.
I watched them, amazed at how easy things were between them. Bren was so genuine, and yet knew exactly what to say, and my mother responded to him as though he were an actual human being, and not some creature who was trying to ruin my future with his rabid sex cravings.
“What are your plans for tonight?” My mother asked.
“Well,” Bren said, “I guess that’s up to Jenna.” He glanced at me and took my hand again. “We can ride for a while or hang out and watch a movie.” He turned back to my mother. “My uncle’s home now.”
“I’m too tired to ride anymore today,” I said.
“Well,” my mother said, “call if you’re going to be late.”
“I will.”
“Nice meeting you, Bren.”
“Same here, Mrs. Dewitt. Hope to see you soon.”
“Wow,” I said as we cleared the stairs and stepped out onto the snow. “You were really good with her.”
He laughed his deep, hollow laugh.
I gave him a confused smile. “What?”
“You make it sound like she’s a toddler or an unruly dog.”
“No. Because then I could buy a book on how to deal with her.”
He stared at me for a moment, then leaned over and kissed me, pulling me close to him. An involuntary, breathy sound rose in my throat and he pressed harder against me, one hand sliding underneath my jacket and stopping low on my back. I felt his fingers grasp my shirt and lift it just slightly, dragging along my skin above the waistline of my jeans. Goose bumps rose all over my body and I shivered.
His laugh was whispery and warm. “Let’s go. I don’t want your mother to catch me mauling you.” He took my hand and we walked back to his apartment under a crisp, starry sky.
In the middle of the night, Bren and I lay awake on his bed facing each other, illuminated by the green glow from Frey’s lava lamp. He had walked me home at ten, and I hung around the lobby reading until my mother was ready to come up to the suite. She seemed to like the idea, brought me a cup of tea and a few cookies from the reception table, and I felt guilty when I snuck out again once she fell asleep. Adding to my guilt was Frey’s insistence upon staying on the couch, although none of them ever really slept. Even now, their muffled conversation through the closed door was anxious and heated. It was strange how Bren was sometimes separate from them. Not just physically, but in his mind, as though he saw things from a different place.
We were lying on our sides, me with my head on my arm, Bren propped on his elbow as he twisted a lock of my hair around his finger.
“Bren?”
“Hm?”
“When will we know?”
“What?” He glanced down at me.
“Why he’s here.” More guilt as I thought of my conversation with Loki at the base of the bunny hill. I imagined telling him, just blurting the words, but held them back.
“Soon.” He said. “If we don’t find out from him, we’ll go to Ringsaker and try to contact my mother again.”
“Why don’t you just do that now?”
“I can’t…” he shook his head, his eyes straying to the side, “I can’t feel her. When she’s close by, when I’m able to speak with her, I can feel her near. But lately she’s…” he shook his head again. “Loki’s escape will have Asgard in complete chaos. I don’t know why they haven’t come after him already. She may not be able to risk talking to me now.”
“How do you…talk to her?”
He grinned down at me. “Maybe you’ll see for yourself.”
The thought scared me and I closed my eyes, shook it off. When I opened them again it was as if he was looking into me, as if he saw my fear. I thought of what Skye said about Bren choosing not to be in my head.
I reached up and hooked the collar of his shirt with one finger. “Could you…know…what I was thinking? If you wanted to?”
He smiled. I waited for him to answer. After a long moment, he took a deep breath and let it go.
“Is that a yes?” I asked.
He let my hair escape his fingers, watched the strands fall before turning his gaze back to me. “Do you have something to tell me?”
“Why do you ask that?” I stared down at the bed.
He leaned in close and waited for me to look up at him. His eyes were hard now, and I thought he might be angry. My stomach fluttered. “Yes,” he said, “if I wanted to know what you were thinking, I would know.”
I took a deep, shaky breath, and as I looked into his eyes, I decided that whether it was possible to lie to him or not, I didn’t want to. “I saw Loki today on the hill,” I said. “He talked to me.”
His eyes softened and a tiny smile played at the corners of his mouth. He let himself fall back against the mattress and put his hands behind his head.
“You knew,” I said.
He was quiet.
“Did Skye tell you?”
His eyes shifted to mine, the smile fading. “No. But she should have.”
“How did you know, then?” I pushed myself up on my elbow and stared down at him.
“I don’t dig around in your head,” he said. “But I’m always listening now, with him here. Your energy didn’t match your behavior.”
“So you rifled through me to find out what was wrong?”
“Don’t say it like that.” He sat up again. “And anyway, you lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“And I didn’t lie to you about what happened to Tyler, but you said not telling you was the same thing.”
I pressed my lips together and fell back on his pillow. Either we both had an argument or neither of us did.
“Right,” he said. When I glared at him, he laug
hed. I smacked him on the shoulder twice before he pulled me down next to him. After a few seconds, he sighed and rolled us so that he was above me, his hands braced on either side of my head. He looked down into my eyes.
“You know, I don’t need anyone with me to talk to my mother. Sometimes I go alone. I went by myself not too long ago. I told her about you.”
“You did?” I ran my hand over his arm. “What did she say?’
“She said that if I would not come home, then she wanted me to be happy here. She said I sounded happy.”
I let my hand trail up the back of his neck, pushed my fingers into his hair. “I hate that he’s ruining it,” I said.
Bren kissed the inside of my arm. “It’s not me I’m worried about. Loki is his own unique brand of hell.” I thought of the blackness I had seen in Loki’s eyes, remembered the hopeless feeling of suffocation and pain I had so easily forgotten today on the hill. “But there is nothing he could do to change what I feel for you.” He said.
This time, when Bren kissed me, when I felt the weight of his body against mine, I didn’t even try to hold back my small gasp. I knew that he could sense how I felt, and I didn’t care. I was in awe of him, of the way the muscles in his back felt under my hands, of the soft, shiny fall of his hair around his face. I pressed my fingers into his shoulders, aware of each perfectly defined line. Bren straightened his arms, hovered over me and watched as my eyes traveled over his face, his collarbone, his chest. I touched the hollow at the base of his throat and he closed his eyes, his moan a quiet rumble under my fingertips. Lowering himself again, he kissed my neck, once, twice, and then his teeth grazed my skin. My breath caught and my heart sped in my chest. I felt weak, confused by my own wanting.
“Bren,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
“Hm.” His tongue slid along my lower lip. I kissed him back, his wintergreen taste drawing me in deeper for a moment, and then I turned my head to break the spell. His mouth grazed my throat again.
“Bren.”
“What,” he mumbled against my skin.
“Stop.” I breathed.
He inhaled, froze for a moment, then let out a tense, hot sigh.