by Laurie Dubay
“Sorry,” he said. He pressed his forehead against mine.
“I just -”
“No,” he said, his voice still a little gruff. “It’s my fault. I know you’re not ready for this.”
He rolled over and pulled me against him. I closed my eyes, listened to the hammering of his heart.
“I shouldn’t have even -” I started, unsure how to continue. “It’s just that you’re so…”
He looked down at me from the corner of his eye. “So…what?”
Lately, I’d developed a habit of speaking before I knew what I was going to say. I buried my face in his shirt and felt him laugh softly.
“Did you look like this in Asgard?” I asked him.
He paused for a moment. “Kind of. Did you look like this in New Jersey?”
“No, I had bigger hair and fake nails.” We both laughed this time. I tilted my head to see his face. “What’s different about you now?”
“Well,” he said, “I guess you could say I toned it down a little.”
I couldn’t imagine what that meant, how he could have been any more beautiful.
I barely slept knowing Bren was wide awake, glaring up at the ceiling and brooding. Although his heartbeat had evened out and his breathing was slow, he was tense underneath me, an arrow pulled back on a bow. I wondered how long his patience would hold out. And what would happen when it was gone.
Chapter 24
Bren and I struck a deal on the way back to the hotel the next morning. I would check in with him as soon as school was over, and then wait in the lodge for Frieda and Dag. Their shifts would be over first, and if my mother insisted on having dinner with me, they could wait for me downstairs. I wasn’t crazy about being confined, but there didn’t seem to be any other way. It was more difficult for Bren to tap into another Asgardian’s thoughts, especially if they were being deliberately blocked as Loki’s undoubtedly were.
After school, I went into the lodge through the door off the back lot and found a small table next to the fire. I slid my backpack underneath and glanced through the wall of windows that looked out over the mountain. The sky had been blue and bright when I had left school just minutes before. Now it was bruised with thick, woolen clouds, the day as dark as night. I pulled my gloves off and tossed them on the table, then walked over to the heavy doors, a soft rumble of thunder sounding in the distance as I heaved them open and went out onto the deck.
I leaned against the rail, texted Bren and waited to see his bright yellow jacket against the gloom. This deck was much smaller than the one off the hotel, and I remembered the night Bren had found me here and stood so close to where I sat, staring out into the cold as I watched the snow land in his hair. I had been so stubborn, insisting that I would not learn to ride. I smiled as I thought of how he had changed all that, changed everything. That night as I lay defeated on the hill, he had taught me how to get back up, told me that the only way to the top was down, showed me that my fear was nothing more than a lack of faith. I wondered if he would say that now, with Loki so close. I wondered if he was afraid.
“Hey.” Bren’s voice cut into my thoughts. I’d missed his approach. Letting his board fall flat on the snow, he ran up the stairs and closed the space between us in three quick strides. I wound my arms around him and he held me as he always did, crushing the air from my lungs. Thunder rumbled again, closer now.
I gazed up at him and he kissed me long and slow until my body softened against his. I yanked myself away.
“I don’t want you to get in trouble,” I said, glancing around.
“I’m already in trouble,” he said.
The day darkened and a few tiny grains of ice smacked the deck.
“You’re going to stay in the lodge today,” he said. “We agreed.”
I nodded. “We agreed.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“I know. Don’t worry. People are coming in now, so I won’t be alone.”
He raised his eyes to the sky, then pushed his hands into my hair and stared down at me. “Let me know if anything happens. Anything. And don’t wait.”
“I won’t.”
He held me again for a moment, then kissed the top of my head and turned away, his face pale with worry. He looked back once as he carried his board toward the learning center and I waved, forcing a flat smile. He lifted his chin and smiled back. When I could no longer see him, I went back to my little table in the lodge. I sat watching the fire for a long time before finally lifting my books from the floor.
The hail started as a slow, intermittent patter against the glass, then became loud and rhythmic, drumming the ceiling and deck. It was as fine as snow, but I heard a member of the ski patrol say that Mr. Neil had closed the terrain park lift and an older, wooden one that led to the glades on the condo side of the mountain. I finished my homework and closed my math book, glancing once more out the windows. The ice had collected on the deck and railing, and in the corners of the window frame. I leaned over, exchanged my math book for my Stephen King, kicked my backpack further under the table and settled back in my chair. I stared at the cover, an image of Roland the gunslinger standing against a sunset with the dark tower rising in the distance behind him. The picture had seemed so fantastic to me once. I tried to recapture the feeling as I opened the book, gratefully sinking into another’s story of world and time.
The minutes unwound, and I was vaguely aware of the rustlings around me as the ski club kids swarmed in to get dressed and buy food and complain about the hail and the closed lifts before swarming out again. Finally, quiet fell once more, the only sound the crackle of the fire as its light flashed against my page.
“Childe Roland to the dark tower came.” The rough grains of his voice caught in the sift of my fragile, hourglass fantasy. I heard the chair opposite me scrape on the carpet and lifted my gaze. Loki stood before the flames in a black leather jacket and tattered jeans, looking like the son of the grim reaper. A platinum jag of hair sliced across his forehead as he spun the chair and straddled it. He lowered himself slowly and leaned his arms on the wooden back.
“Robert Browning.” He said. I was caught in his eyes, green today, and as clear as stained glass. The fire snapped in a hellish halo around him. I dropped my gaze to his necklace, barely visible beneath the black collar of his shirt. The stone was green as well.
“I know,” I said. I stared down at his combat boots, planted wide on either side of his chair. Where was my phone? In my backpack? What would he do if I reached for it? I hadn’t been as prepared as I’d thought, and the few people in the lodge seemed so removed from me now. It was as if the world in which I found myself rested on top of theirs like a transparent overlay, two separate sheets of space and time appearing as one.
He nodded toward my book. “Like it?”
When I didn’t answer, he ducked his head to pull my focus. I raised my eyes to his. “I like all of King’s books so far.”
“‘It’ is my favorite,” he said with a quick lift of his brows.
“The one with the evil clown. Of course it is.”
He smiled. “Read it?”
“No. Clowns freak me out.”
“In the story,” he went on as if he hadn’t heard me, “the kids are terrorized by a sewer-dwelling child-killer, which is unfortunate. But, as always, love manages to thrive. The hero even writes a poem to his secret crush.” He leaned in toward me, and as I watched, his eyes darkened from emerald to the deep color of a pine forest. “It reads: ‘Your hair is winter fire. January embers. My heart burns there, too.’” He paused for a moment, let me hear it in my head. “Profound, isn’t it? Kind of reminds me of our boy Bren.” When he said Bren’s name, it was like he was taking aim. It filled me with dread.
“That is what’s he’s calling himself, isn’t it?” He asked. “Bren? Chosen, no doubt, by an enamored poet. Skye, perhaps?”
I met his gaze with narrow eyes. “Wrong.”
“How would you know?”
He said, leaning back into empty space. “Skye has a way of putting ideas in people’s heads.”
I clenched my teeth and returned to my book, my eyes grazing the page as I tried to gather my options.
“You know, Jenna,” Loki said after a moment, “you have a few embers in your own hair. And in your eyes.”
I glanced up before I could stop myself.
“Little flecks burning among the green.”
He gazed at me.
I watched, transfixed as his eyes lightened, green tendrils swirling and springing with golden blooms until they were exactly the same color as mine. It was as if I were looking into myself, with no glass to temper the reflection. The image was brighter, stronger, more vivid than I knew myself to be.
Loki shook his head slowly. “It’s no wonder he wants to keep you,” he said.
Long seconds filled the space between us, his voice echoing in my head. Then a loud smack cleared the haze. I jerked back against my chair and dropped my book into my lap. Dag was hunched over the table, his hands splayed on either side of Loki as he glared into his face. Loki gave him a small, sly smile and Dag returned it with his crazy, reckless grin. Dag had shed his jacket, and his blood red shirt mingled with his wild expression made him look like the devil.
I felt a thousand static shocks under my skin and dug my nails into the arm of my chair.
“You’re lucky I got here first, Bro.” Dag whispered with terrible pleasantness.
Loki’s smile widened to reveal a few sharp, white teeth. “And why is that?”
Dag leaned forward, his long, muscular back heaving. “Because I’ll give you a few seconds to get out of here.”
Loki huffed, then fixed his eyes on mine. They were dark again now, as black as the first day I’d seen them. “Now why would I want to do that?”
“Time’s up.”
We all turned toward the voice. Bren loomed behind my chair, his face like stone. Frieda, Skye, and Frey stood behind him. Val was striding toward us, the heavy glass door still closing against the hail.
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Loki was calm, conversational.
Bren matched his tone. “That’s the upside of hail. It chases away the amateurs.”
As Loki’s smile fell, I took one flicker of unreasonable offense to Bren’s use of the word ‘amateur,’ then allowed it to dissolve as a group of teenaged girls tumbled in from the cold. They stomped the ice from their ski boots on the way to the fire, pulling off their gloves and hats and settling down at a big table close to us. None of them could seem to help staring at the guys – even Val – and then glancing at us girls to compare themselves. A girl with long, dark hair and a chlorine white smile caught Loki’s eye and shot him the same kind of lewd grin I had seen girls give Frey. When Loki grinned back, she glanced around at her friends and then turned to him again.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.” He said. “Are you wondering if this is my girlfriend?” He motioned to me.
Shock passed through her expression and was gone. She smiled again and shrugged one shoulder. “Is she?”
“Well, I’d tell you,” Loki said, “but it doesn’t really matter to you, does it? Because you think you’re prettier than she is.” He watched the girl’s smile fade, watched her friends’ eyes drop to the table, and continued. “You figured you’d just wait for her to go to the bathroom, or get up to get a drink, and then I’d ask for your number. And after that, it would only be a matter of time until she was out of the picture.”
The girl gaped, her eyes round in her pale face.
Loki leaned in. “But you were wrong on two counts,” he whispered. “One. She’s not my girlfriend.” He raised his brows and waited for her reaction. She narrowed her eyes at him, her expression tentative. Still playing along, but barely.
“Okay.” She said slowly. “What’s the other?”
“Two.” Loki’s smile grew wider. “You’re not prettier.”
He straightened, enjoying the girl’s shock for another moment, then turned back to me. “Is she, Jenna?”
Bren was at Loki’s side before I saw him move. “Outside.” He said through clenched teeth.
When Loki lifted his eyes, they were blazing. He rose from his chair and shoved it aside with his boot. They stood face to face for a moment, then Bren pivoted and stormed toward the door, Loki strutting behind. The others followed. I was the last one to feel the sting of the hail as we cleared the deck and trailed Bren to the far side of the lodge, just out of earshot of the deserted bunny hill.
Bren spun on Loki, his stance wide, his arms held back from his body in a way that made me think of a bear ready to charge. The others fell in behind him but he took no notice. Frey motioned for me to move closer to him. When I did, he put an arm around my shoulders and grinned down into my anxious face before turning back to watch.
“I don’t know what you’re doing here,” Bren said, his voice quiet and deadly, “but you can’t win.”
“You don’t even know the game.” Loki said.
“I’m not playing games. I’m telling you. My patience is running out.”
“And what are you going to do then? Tear this place to pieces. Destroy everything and then erase it from their memories. Let them think it was some natural disaster. All to wipe me off the face of the planet.”
“If I have to.”
“Sounds good to me,” Frey said.
“Without even knowing why?” Loki asked, his black eyes fixed on Bren.
Bren stepped forward until he was just an inch or two from Loki’s face. “I’m going to find out. And if somebody helped you escape, I’m going to find that out, too. And if what I find is that you have plans to interfere with anyone I care about, I will end you.”
All the amusement drained from Loki’s eyes, his smile, his posture.
“That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?” He said. “Destroy. Whenever anything becomes unpleasant, boring…” he motioned around him with one hand and then flicked his fingers toward his chest, “…uncomfortable. Just wipe it out. You’re worse than Thor with his hammer.”
Bren seemed to get larger as he leaned over Loki, fuming. Frieda sucked in a breath. Val took a step forward, but Bren’s arm shot out to keep him back.
“At least Thor lives in his own damage,” Loki said, the amusement back, but tinged now with something darker. “Or cleans it up.”
Bren grabbed Loki’s jacket in both fists. Val got an arm around Bren’s neck and tried to heave him back. Bren held on, and as Val yanked harder, it looked like he was trying to move a mountain.
“Not yet,” Val growled in Bren’s ear. Dag stepped forward, but when Frey advanced as well, Dag pointed at Frey and widened his eyes in warning.
Loki spread his arms. “Do you think death here would be worse than riding around and around on our deranged merry-go-world? Did you think you could walk away and leave me chained in that poisoned nightmare forever?” Loki looked manic, and I turned away from imagining what kind of imprisonment he had suffered.
Bren flung Loki away from him, seething, still ready to attack. Loki wiped a hand across his mouth and glanced around, then looked back at Bren. “You should never have come here,” Loki said. His eyes lit on mine for just a moment, and then he turned and strode away, disappearing into the hail.
Val released Bren and stepped back. Bren was still for a moment, his stare blank and fixed somewhere in the distance, his breath slowing. It was a long time before he spoke.
“What did you find out?” He asked without turning to look at the others.
“He’s in number 217,” Dag said. “With the wolf. He’s been all over the mountain, mostly after closing, but it doesn’t seem like he’s caused any major trouble. Yet.”
“Skye?” Bren asked, his voice still tense.
“He’ll know whenever one of us is reading him. Especially you,” she said. “But I can see some things.” Her tone was different today. She sounded anxious, eager to please, h
er eyes moving over Bren’s back as she talked to him. It made my chest heavy and I had the urge to move closer to him.
“He’s not afraid of being caught,” she continued. “So I think he has help.” She paused. Bren spun on her. Her violet eyes were wide and glassy, heartsick. I closed my eyes, prayed that he would not love her back.
“What is it?” He said.
“He’s not focused on Frey. Not ever, that I’ve been able to see. It’s always you.”
After a moment, Bren nodded. He put his hands on his hips and stared at the ground.
“Has he been to the circle?” He asked.
“I don’t know,” she said.
He nodded again. “Go home. All of you. Jenna and I will meet you there in a few.” He raised his eyes to look at them. “We can’t wait anymore. We’ll go up tonight.”
They went, silently, Skye the last to turn away. When they were gone, Bren and I stood in the hail. I watched him as he chipped at the snow with the toe of one boot.
“He’s right.” He said to the ground.
“Who? Loki?”
He nodded. “I left that world and everybody in it with a future that is no more certain than ours is here. I destroyed everything by helping them escape,” he gestured vaguely behind him. “And I’m protecting them. In Asgard, that’s no better than aiding and harboring criminals. We’re no different than Loki, stuck in a situation and desperate for an escape.”
“You are different,” I said, “if Loki is what you say he is. Your family…they aren’t criminals. Frieda? She’s a criminal because she couldn’t stand another lifetime of losing Dag? Of watching her brother die?”
Bren stared at me for a long moment. Then he took a few steps, closing the distance between us, and peered down into my face.
“I can’t stand the thought of him getting anywhere near you,” he said.
“Well, you were quick. Were you spying on me today?” I asked, keeping my tone light. Given his current mood, I was willing to give him a pass if he was.
“No,” he said. “I was spying on him. And he knew it. He was provoking me.”