The Banished Gods Box Set: Books 1-3

by L. A. McGinnis

  A chill crept over Loki as he saw the questions and the unspoken threat in Mir’s eyes. “I found her in an alley, and I couldn’t just leave her there.”

  “Why the hell not?” Well, wasn’t that the question of the hour?

  Loki paused, willing himself to calmness because even though he knew he was right, it still seemed impossible. “Because she’s our competition.”

  Mir snorted. “Bullshit, humans can’t even see the little bastards. And you’re telling me this girl has been killing them? All by her little self?” Mir grinned, baring teeth as long as a lion’s while raking a hand through his buzz cut. “You are so full of shit. You‘re probably horny, my man.” His clever eyes skimmed over the girl. “Although looking at her, I can’t say I blame you. She’s gorgeous.”

  Loki tensed, his jaw working. “This is on me, Mir. I’m taking responsibility for her. You need to treat her, right now, before she goes into shock.” His eyes didn’t move from the burly god’s cool blue ones as he demanded, “Look her over and do it now. She’s in pain, and I’m not going to watch her suffer a second longer.”

  For someone who looked every inch a convicted murderer and claimed he didn’t give a shit about this mortal lying in front of him, Mir’s hands were surprisingly gentle as he moved over her back. Mimir was their healer, triage doc, surgeon, whatever the situation called for, whenever they needed it. Which wasn‘t often, since they healed themselves in an hour, tops. Mir looked up, scanned Loki’s face before he pointed out, “You know Odin’s rules, no humans in here, even for play, or they go out in a body bag.”

  “She’ll be in one soon enough if you don’t do something.” Loki rolled her gently over onto her stomach, fighting with himself over whether Mir could be trusted with this. Or rather, how far Mir could be trusted, once he knew the truth.

  “The bastards got her good. The poison’s spreading quick, look at how bad she’s shaking.” Loki stared at his brother and uttered a word he never thought would come out of his mouth. “Swear to me you’ll help her? No matter what?”

  “Yeah well, let’s see how bad the damage is.”

  Loki reached out and lifted the sweater, revealing the girl’s back.

  In its entirety.

  Mir’s face went perfectly blank as he saw what was revealed as the fabric peeled away. “Holy fucking shit.” Left with a thin, black bra covering her skin, they both stared down at the jigsaw puzzle of scars covering pure, honed muscle. And these weren’t just any scars. These were crisscrossing claw marks in shades of white and pink and purple, overlapping wounds healed for years and months and weeks covering most of her back. Some smooth and thin, some thick and bumpy, a spiderweb of brutality.

  Mir’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Roll her over. But be careful.” The front was even worse. Long wavering scars, smaller ones from stabs, longer ones from slashes, crosshatched her stomach, arms, and sides. Pointing to one in particular, Mir’s voice came out raw.

  “Shit, look at this one, Loki. It’s old, and was probably nearly fatal, judging from the placement.” He indicated a meandering, puckered mark, running the length of her torso, starting under her right breast and disappearing beneath the waistband of her jeans, which had script tattoo along its full length:

  If it takes me the rest of my days, I will see you monsters in hell.

  Mir stared up at him. “No fucking shit, Loki, you’ve found our competition.”

  “I know.” None of this felt real—the girl, the scars. But it was. “She’s who we’ve been looking for, Mir. She has to be. The scent of her blood was at all the other scenes. I promised Tyr I’d get answers out of her. But for that, she’s got to survive the poison. And there’s too much of it in her system right now.”

  Rolling her gently onto her back, Mir ran a hand through his barely there, red-blonde hair before kicking into action. “Okay, first, we need to get the toxins out of her. For that, I need what’s in the blue cabinet. Grab me one of the clear, glass bottles. In the back on the left.” Mir ran a questing finger over one of the gashes, leaving a trail of ruby-red blood and frothy venom in its wake. A growl rose in Loki’s throat. Mir raised his head and growled right back, “What is wrong with you? Find me the damn bottle and quit screwing around.”

  Loki opened the door, reached over the hundred other bottles in the case, and grabbed a clear one. He knew full well which ones were the anti-venom. Had even taken it himself after a bad night. “Does this shit even work on humans?”

  “Well, we’re about to find out, aren’t we?” Mir stepped back and measured her, cocking his head to the side. “What do you say, one hundred thirty pounds?” He poured some into a cup. “Oh what the hell, let’s go for it.” And added another few drops.

  Loki couldn’t help looking at all of her scars. Her human body, beneath all of that damage seemed impossibly vulnerable, so defenseless, it left him breathless. “So many. How can she have so many scars and not be dead?”

  “Well, if she ever wakes up from this, you can ask her. Just make sure I’m here. I’d love to hear what she has to say. Although I got to say, reading her mind would be a whole lot easier.” Mir didn’t take his eyes off the girl. “You realize that, right?”

  “Of course I do, except she’s too weak. It’d take too much of her energy, and she’s barely holding on as it is.” As if on cue, her head slumped to the side. “Damn it Mir, give her the anti-venom, and then you’ll have your answers.”

  Suspicion shone in Mir’s ice-blue eyes. “If she wakes up. You know how the Grim’s poison targets humans, renders them unconscious so they don’t put up much of a fight while they feed? For us, it’s more of an aggravation, slows the healing, and stings like a motherfucker. But for her, being mortal…”

  Mir didn’t have to say it because Loki finished for him. “If she’s human, she should be dead by now.” Many times over, as evidenced from the damage all over her body.

  “Yup, she sure as shit should be.” Mir leaned over her and gestured for Loki. “Hold her mouth open and try to not let her gag. She needs to swallow every drop of this shit.” Loki closed one hand firmly around her jaw, holding her mouth open, the other arm braced across her shoulders to support her and met Mir’s gaze. The red-haired god frowned. “This will not be pretty.”

  4

  Morgane became vaguely aware of something going on beyond the blinding pain. Her world flashed from dark to light to dark to light, and she thought she’d been flying for a moment or two. But when liquid fire poured down her throat, she fought back. She pushed and shoved against the iron grip of the hands holding her. And they didn’t even budge.

  But whatever they put inside her was burning a red-hot path through her body straight down to her stomach. And something was covering her mouth, sealing that fire inside.

  She writhed, trying to spit it out, but her mouth wouldn’t open. Her back screamed in pain, and she felt naked if the cold sensation all over her body could be trusted. Opening one eye, blinding light pierced through to her brain, her head spun, and she discovered to her absolute horror, that yes, she was practically naked. Instantly, the heavy pressure on her face disappeared. “Holy crap, my shirt… Give me back my damn clothes.” Covering herself with her hands, she rasped to no one in particular while barely opening her other eye. “Where am I? Who are you? Why did you take my clothes?”

  The man staring down at her was impossibly handsome.

  Unless she was dead, and this was a dream?

  This must be a damn dream, she thought as the face drew nearer. That face…was perfection. His eyes seemed too blue to be real, like pools of sapphires or fire opals if you wanted to get all like, romantic and shit. A slash of high cheekbones against a tanned, sculpted face framed by wild, black hair. And the places his hands touched her skin burned every bit as much as whatever they’d dumped down her throat.

  “Are you the bastard who took my clothes?” Her voice came out low and husky, as though she had been screaming for hours.

  Those
blue eyes shuttered tightly. “They call me Loki. And we had no choice, we needed to determine how badly you were injured.”

  A gravelly voice mocked him from somewhere off to her left. “Oh, but you don’t have to call him Loki. You can call him a traitor or a betrayer or an asshole, or anything else you want….”

  She heard a deep grunt, followed by silence, but she hurt too much to care. Besides, she was busy worrying why she had no shirt. Along with where she was and how she had gotten here. Wherever here was.

  Loki’s face turned cold. “Shut the fuck up, Mir.”

  Okay. Loki and Mir. Names. Names were a good thing.

  A shirt, however, would be so much better.

  “Yeah, he hates me giving him shit.” The owner of the gravelly voice stepped into view. Not exactly handsome, but he was tall and muscular with a rugged face topped off by close-shorn, reddish blonde hair, and a look that clearly said, Don’t fuck with me. Ever. In about every language known to man. Half listening as the red-haired guy Mir rambled on, Morgane’s eyes drifted back to the black-haired dude—Loki—and wrapped her hands around her chest. Damn. What she wouldn’t give for clothing right about now.

  Mir waved a hand in the air. “But enough about us. You wanna know what I hate? I hate it when I come across something I can’t explain. Because for me, everything’s gotta make sense, otherwise, it means someone’s lying.” Effortlessly, Mir lifted her up and rolled her away from him. And pushed his finger into her back. Right where the creature had clawed her. A hiss of pain escaped. He rolled her backwards until she faced him again, her shredded back landing against something metal. Cold.

  “You wanna tell us who the hell you are, sweetheart? ’Cause if you really were human, you’d be dead in that alley or in a demon’s stomach right now.”

  Pushing him back, Loki stepped in between them, blocking her view. “Get your damn hands off her, Mir. I brought the girl here, I’m the one who…”

  “Yeah, you are,” Mir rasped. “Now this situation has to play out. You broke the rules, Loki. There’s a price for that. If she’s lying about who she is or what she is, you know what Odin will do with her?” A knot of fear grew in her stomach as she watched Loki nod in response. “Then let’s figure this out now, my brother, when there’s a possibility we can salvage this whole fucking debacle. Before things really get ugly.”

  While they argued, Morgane sized them up. Mir’s haircut and square jaw. Military, most likely, judging from this fancy schmancy infirmary. Everything in its glittering, sterile white place with glossy cabinets and so much stainless it looked like a city morgue. And whatever liquid they had poured down her throat was helping. The venom was wearing off, the shaking had almost stopped, and aside from the fresh pain of the wounds, she didn’t feel like she was going to die right away.

  What she didn’t remember was how she’d gotten here.

  But something told her not to lie, or at least, lie as little as possible. She cut into the middle of their argument. “Hey. My name’s Morgane, Morgane Burke.” They waited. More. They wanted more. “I was walking to the station from the club, trying to catch the three fifty south. And…” She let the tears well up in her eyes, waiting until they spilled down her cheeks before she continued, “I don’t know…suddenly…these… These things just came out of nowhere…and…and…”

  The two looked at each other and the one with the red hair, Mir, shook his head. “You’ll have to do better than that, sweetheart. I got news for you. If you really were human, you wouldn’t even be able to see those things. Which means you can’t be human. Which means, you won’t walk out of here alive. Unless you start telling the truth.”

  Shit, shit, shit. She knew no one could see those things. She’d screwed up already. Blinking, she turned to Loki for help, but he simply stared at her as if begging her to tell Mir something. Anything. Mir continued, hooking a thumb at Loki. “See, I’m fucking pissed because this asshole broke house rules, and I’m just stupid enough to let myself get caught up in this whole mess. And…” He pulled her up to a sitting position and gripped her face with a vise-like hand. “My patience is wearing thin…”

  Suddenly the pressure vanished because Loki had Mir shoved up against the wall. For reasons unknown, everything inside her went taut. Loose and tight at the same time, and she couldn’t have ripped her eyes away from Loki if she had to.

  “You will keep your fucking hands off her, my man. Understand?” When Mir clawed and growled like a grizzly, Loki just hoisted him up higher, growling right back, teeth bared like a wolf. But seeing the two of them at odds… Something inside her just gave out.

  They must have seen the scars, so they already knew she was lying about what happened. If they picked her up out of that alleyway, for God’s sake, they already knew too much. And besides…

  Wait, a part of her whispered hopefully, can they see those things too?

  “Stop this. Put him down and stop fighting.” Her command came out as more of a tired whisper, but Loki removed his hands. Mir slid down the wall, landing on his feet. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie. It’s only… I’ve never told anyone why I‘m really here.”

  “We’re all ears, sweetheart.” Rubbing his neck, Mir pegged her with a calculating, guarded stare and waited.

  “Can I have my shirt back, first? This will be hard enough to do without…well…” Her throat closed up, her eyes burning, the air running cool fingers over her skin. For someone who’d taken damn good care of herself for the last two years, considering how she spent her nights, she felt pretty vulnerable.

  And way too naked.

  “There wasn‘t much left of your shirt.” Loki explained apologetically, pulling off his own, a soft pullover at least twice her size. He bundled the sleeves up like she was little and pushed it over her head, helped her feed her good arm through the sleeve. “Doc’s gonna patch you up in a sec, Morgane. But first, you have to tell us who you really are. The guys here, they get awfully nervous around strangers. So… What’s your real name? We know you can’t be human, so tell us what you are and what city or territory you’re from. Then you’ll be on your way back home.”

  Her head whipped from one to the other. “Not human? You’re joking, right?”

  Mir waved his hand in the air, dismissing her. “See what I mean?” He snorted. “Never going to get the truth out of her since she’s nothing but a devious witch.”

  Now that pissed her off.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about…but I can explain why I’m here, where I came from, and exactly what I do with my nights. And why.” She cleared her throat. “But it won‘t matter because you won’t believe me.” Holding Loki’s eyes, praying that out of the two men, he might, the words tumbled out. “I’ve been living in Chicago for a little over two years now. I moved here from Pennsylvania, from around Pittsburgh.” She pulled, not without great effort, the AMX card out of her back pocket, emblazoned Morgane E. Burke on the front and handed it over to Loki. “I’ve got my Illinois driver’s license with me, and my old Pennsylvania one back at my apartment, if you want to look at that too.”

  Helplessness made her fumble her words, balking. “I came here to kill something.” While Loki perched next to Mir on the table across from hers, her eyes skated from one to the other. “Something no one else can see.” Finally, they looked at each other. Nodded.

  “You’re not the only one, Morgane. We see the creatures too. The more important question is, how can you?” Loki’s words stole her breath away.

  “Wait, you see them too?” Relief shot through her so fast it left her reeling. “You really can?” Oh my God. Someone else sees them. It’s not only me.

  “All this time, all these years, and I thought I might be going crazy,” she whispered almost to herself, wrapping shaking fingers around the edges of the table, squeezing to feel the hard metal, to remind herself this was real. “Who are you guys? What are those things? And how can you see them too? How is that even possible, when all
this time, I thought I was the only one?”

  Loki asked her again, his voice slightly more forceful, “We can’t answer your questions until you answer ours. Now. Tell us who you are and what you’re doing here?”

  “I’m not sure what you want me to say. I’m living in the city, on the south side. I’m a United States citizen, for chrissakes. And as far as I know, Chicago’s still part of the USA, and I have just as much right to be here as anybody.” As her temper flared, it occurred to her the burning stuff must be magic because she felt good. Better than good.

  Still, they waited. She pinched her nose before she went on, explaining everything as slowly and concisely as she could manage. “My name is Morgane Elaine Burke. I was born in1994. In Pittsburgh. I came to this city to kill those things, and I’ve been killing them ever since.” Her eyes skated between Loki to Mir. “Except the nights I’m injured, when I’m forced to recuperate and heal.”

  Mir rolled his eyes.

  Morgane’s temper sprang up, and then cooled as she weighed her options. “All right then, what should I say? What will it take to get you off my back?”

  Mir leaned in close. “My problem is this. Normal humans can’t kill those things. Humans can’t even detect them. Which means, since you can see them, you aren’t human. And according to you, you’ve been killing them for a while now. Which means you’re lying about everything. Do you see my problem?”

  Well, no she didn’t, actually. “You truly need convincing that I’m…human? Wow.” She looked around, scanned the tables, the cabinets, the trays before settling on a solution. “Okay, how about this? We’re in some kind of hospital, right?” She pulled back the oversized sleeve, offered her arm. Take a blood sample then.” Loki hid a grin before shaking his head. She shot him a glare. “What’s so funny?”