The Banished Gods Box Set: Books 1-3

by L. A. McGinnis

  With every step she took, she reminded herself, this is not about me.

  This was for Loki, for him saving her ass and not letting the demons eat her for dinner. Twice.

  Even though he’d known death might be the cost.

  This was about balancing the scales. This was about her doing whatever was necessary to bring him back. This was, quite possibly, because she cared too much, too quickly, for someone she barely even knew. That somehow, the lonely ache in her chest had changed into something else. Something she wasn’t ready to let go of.

  In this place where people were made small, Mir was right. Only one person held the power here, and at the moment, he towered above her on a throne. So. Morgane did what she had to. She wiped away every ounce of pride she dragged in here with her. And as she did, the last vestiges of rage were replaced by resolve. She’d come here to beg for the only person who had touched her in two whole years.

  Quite possibly the only person who ever would.

  Odin twisted away from the figure at his side and fixed a mocking, predatory smile on his face before leaning back, waiting. Beside him stood the most beautiful woman Morgane had ever seen. She glistened, like an iridescent fish in the sun. Long, inky black hair trailed to the floor, and her eyes, which absorbed the light, were shadowed under arching eyebrows set on a face the shade of bone-white porcelain. As the woman tilted her head and brought her wicked, consuming gaze fully onto Morgane, she felt slowly pulled apart, layer by aching layer.

  Odin’s face smoothed out into cruel, hard planes. “Ah, you’ve returned. Now. Let’s see if you can get it right this time. Last time was such a bore.” With a raised brow, he pointed to the floor in front of the dais. The woman’s smile matched Odin’s. Mocking. Anticipatory.

  None of it mattered. Morgane didn’t care why this woman was here. Her attention focused wholly on Odin, she sank to the floor. Knees and arms and back screaming, she bowed low until her forehead rested against the cool white marble. And tried not to think of Odin’s red, red blood flowing in lovely rivers all over it.

  From above, he chuckled. “Oh, you can dream all you want, girl. Just don’t let your imagination run away with you and think you might actually get away with it.”

  Morgane cranked down tighter on her emotions. “We need to get on with this. There isn’t a lot of time. Or do you need more groveling to make yourself feel kingly?”

  “You can rise, mortal.”

  Thanks, asshole.

  “Now, now, none of that. Think of me as a benevolent ruler, kind enough to grant you two audiences in one day. A rare scenario, I can assure you.”

  The woman let out a low, husky laugh, whispering in his ear, her blood-red lips curved in a sultry smile.

  Odin stilled before turning back to Morgane, the weight of his scrutiny pressing down upon her. Something flashed in those silvery eyes, sparked brightly, before his hands gripped the arms of his chair and his knuckles turned bone-white. The woman laughed again. A low, sinister sort of laugh. The kind that skated lightly over Morgane, raising the hairs at the back of her neck.

  Her soft, seductive voice floated downward. “So. This is the one you told me about? She survived the demon attacks? All that venom? Clever little thing.” While the woman’s eyes narrowed and fixed on her with a knowing, familiar stare, Morgane’s gut tightened. “Interesting. She appears human enough.”

  Carefully, Morgane watched the two exchange a glance. The sort that contains an entire conversation, and not a pleasant one. And then the woman’s gaze settled onto Morgane.

  She went cold as ice the instant those black, empty eyes rested upon her. And the flicker of hunger crossing the woman’s beautiful face? Morgane felt marked by it, as though the woman had been searching for her and finally, finally found exactly what she’d been looking for.

  Odin’s sharp, pointed voice pulled her back into the moment. “A Midwestern girl, I believe, was what she claimed. Nobody special.” His smile was slightly cruel. “Am I close, Miss Burke?”

  So they were to engage in a pissing contest while Loki bled to death and Mir fought to save him? “I…I…Yes.” With enormous effort, Morgane yanked her attention away from the woman’s scrutiny. “Close enough.”

  “You know, Miss Burke, your begging technique could use some work, and yet… I’m tempted to let you continue. I confess I find it fascinating the risk Loki took bringing you here. Knowing full well the punishment for defying me.” With this, Odin’s eyes drifted to the woman at his side, taking in her rapacious, predatory stare. After a moment, he continued, “I wonder, would you do the same for him? Make such a noble sacrifice?”

  The woman leaned forward in anticipation.

  Morgane relaxed a little.

  Ah. That was their game.

  A grim smile twisted Morgane’s mouth as she stared at them unblinkingly. Every second they wasted here put Loki one step closer to the grave. Posturing and preening while so much hung in the balance. Time Loki did not have. “Then let’s cut to the chase, shall we? What do you want to bring Loki back? Name your price.”

  The woman’s eyes glowed with an unholy light.

  “Name your price,” Morgane repeated, looking up to Odin. “I’ll do anything, give you anything…”

  “Anything?” The woman mused, her teeth a flash of white against her red, red lips.

  Resolve settled into Morgane like mortar between rock, and for her, the matter was settled. This was her choice. Her decision. If they refused her, then she’d leave and hold Loki’s hand while he died. If they agreed, then she’d have saved him. Exactly as he’d done for her. “If there’s a price, I’ll pay it. Whatever it is, I will pay it. Just tell me what it is.”

  Slowly, Odin released his vice-like grip on his throne. “That particular wish is not mine to grant.” His gaze slid over to the woman. “Because I do not rule over the realm of Death.”

  “He can’t.” The woman drifted forward, and Morgane recoiled a step. “But I can. I will grant your wish, human.” Her eyes narrowed to slits, something cruel and dark guttering in her gaze, her voice taking on a silky, cajoling tone, “And you shall give me whatever I want in return? You swear it on your life?”

  Morgane nodded, even though it took everything for her to hold the woman’s dark, brutal gaze. “Anything at all. Just give me back Loki, alive.”

  Morgane could have heard a pin drop, but instead, the woman began clapping. Her slim, elegant hands coming together again and again and yet again. She had never thought the sound could be so mocking. “I believe my work is done here, Odin. Thank you for your help. I couldn’t have done it without you. This has been such fun. We should do it more often.”

  When Morgane’s eyes met the woman’s black, obsidian ones, she couldn’t help but see what was shining in them. Victory. Bright, shiny victory. Whatever she had just done, whatever bargain she was just forced to make, somehow she’d just been beaten.

  It didn’t matter. Whatever they had gained, she had bought back Loki’s life. And as far as she was concerned, she had gotten the better end of the deal.

  Odin dismissed her, a quick slice of his head toward the door, and she turned and limped for the stairs, hobbling down to the infirmary as fast as her battered body would allow. She found Mir cradling his head in his hands, Loki motionless on the table, the sheet pulled over his face, and the white cotton blowsy with blood. Morgane froze, unable to take another step. Unable to move. To breathe.

  “He’s gone?”

  Mir nodded into his hands.

  Her hands clenched into fists. “Damn it, that bastard Odin wasted too much time. He argued with me, he argued, Mir, and we took too long and now…”

  “Don’t do it. Don’t talk like that, or he’ll come after you.” The wispy, broken voice made her turn toward the table as Mir raised his head from his hands. “Don’t let him hear her say that, Mir, don’t...” Loki reached up, pulled the sheet away from his face, and opened his eyes.

  It had been years since M
organe had really cried. Hell, just the thought of crying seemed so pointless she’d thought she’d forgotten how. But as tears filled her eyes, spilled down her face, and dripped off her chin, as she crossed the space in a breath and took his hand in hers and pressed it to her chest, she knew she was simply out of practice. “I thought you were dead.”

  Oh God, she hadn’t only thought it. She’d known it.

  Loki looked up at her, puzzled, as if working out what he was seeing. “Wait. You shouldn’t be here, Morgane. As a matter of fact, why are you here? Mir needs to get you somewhere safe. Before Odin discovers you.”

  His hand was so warm, the heat radiated through her in waves. His eyes were…so alive. Such a perfect, depthless blue she thought could drown in them, and God knew, she wanted to. It took considerable effort not to reach out and stroke his face. Press her lips to his forehead.

  Mir’s raspy voice sounded a million miles away. “It’s too late for that, Loki. Way too late.” She blinked away the tears as Loki’s hand tightened on hers, until the warm connection between them was the only thing that mattered.

  She supposed it was too late, as well, to worry about what she’d just traded away.

  12

  “Too late for what?” Loki husked, his voice still rough from death. “What do you mean, too late?”

  Morgane reached out and slowly, carefully lifted the red, blotchy sheet covering him. Underneath, he was a perfect landscape of crests and valleys, unblemished, unmarked. Whole. Something in her chest loosened at the sight, as if she hadn’t quite believed what she’d find.

  “Mir, what did you do?” He looked up at Doc, who shook his head. “How did I get back here? Odin said my exile was permanent this time. Never going to let me come back, and I was there for days…weeks, maybe.” The words came slowly, his voice so hoarse it was painful to listen to him speak. “And you.” He fixed his laser-sharp stare on her. “Why are you still hurt, when you should be healed by now? Why didn’t you let Mir fix you up, Morgane?” She traded looks with Mir.

  “Seven hours. You were only in there for seven hours.”

  Loki stiffened, staring up at Doc, then looked over the sheets and the blood, Mir’s exhausted, drawn face, then to the ravaged room. Morgane watched him try to process it. When she laid a hand on him, he shook beneath her touch.

  “No, no… It was days, weeks maybe, I lost track of time, but I’m sure it was longer.” Rubbing his face feverishly, he sat up, still smeared with red and black blood, along with a fair amount of dirt, and fixed a lethal stare on Mir’s face. Morgane didn’t dare breathe as he hissed at Mir through clenched teeth. “What. The. Fuck. Did. You. Do?”

  “Because you know as well as I do,” Loki went on, his voice dangerously low, “he’ll punish you, even worse than he made me pay. For helping me, for helping her, he’s going to do something evil, worse than sending me to the darklands. He’ll break you, Mir, he’ll—”

  “Stop it, Loki. Stop. Besides, it wasn’t him.” Morgane’s soft, joyless sound stopped him cold. “I did it. I made the bargain to bring you back.” The silence between the three of them was deafening. “I didn’t have a choice. You shouldn’t be punished for helping me, and that’s exactly what was happening. So I… I said I’d do whatever they wanted, if only you came back.”

  The intensity of Loki’s rage was such that Morgane thought it might burn them all to cinders. Instead, he put his back to her and snarled to Mir. “And you? You allowed this?”

  “I didn’t have a choice. I was kind of busy watching you die. Besides, she was the only one who could get you back, so yeah, I helped her. Sue me.” Mir had the look of a wall, a thick, brick wall no one was going to get through. Least of all Loki.

  “I’m going to fucking kill you, is what I’ll do.”

  “That’d be a shame, when I just went to a hell of a lot of trouble to save you. Look, sure, I might have taken her to Odin, and he told her he’d bring you back. Miracle of miracles, he kept his word and returned you to this realm. But Jesus, Loki, you were dying. He returned you so both of us could watch you die. He meant to punish us.”

  Mir swung around to Morgane. “What I find amazing is, you actually did it, didn’t you? You really convinced him to bring Loki back?” Both pairs of eyes now bore straight through her. “The second time, you actually begged for Odin to spare—”

  “Well, begging might be too strong of a word for it.” Morgane shrugged. “I offered them a bargain.”

  “Them?” Loki’s piercing blue gaze demanded an immediate answer. “What do you mean, them?” His voice was stronger now, no sign of the half dead man lying on a table minutes ago. Oh no, now he was filled with a cold, quiet rage. “What did you promise him, Morgane? What in the hell did Odin want?”

  “Nothing. Yet. I don’t know, I suppose I should have asked, only I didn’t think about anything except saving your life. Mir couldn’t save you, so…” She chewed her lip, wondering what she had done, making the bargain with Odin and the woman.

  Mir spoke up. “You were dying, bro. I closed your eyes and covered your face myself. Sent you to the Otherworld where you belong.”

  As her breathing caught in her throat, the last hour catching up with her, Morgane managed to stammer, “The darklands aren’t a euphemism, are they? Odin really has the power to send someone to another place? How does he even do that?”

  His voice turned softer when he answered. “Yes, the darklands are our version of purgatory. And yeah, Odin has portals he uses to send immortals through to other realms. You should have left me there. Fuck knows what he’ll want from you. You just complicated the hell out of everything. Why did you do it?”

  She had done it for so many reasons. Not that she was going to tell Loki, and certainly not Mir, what those reasons were. Not when she didn’t fully understand them herself. “Because I owe you. You pulled me out of that alley and saved my ass. I wouldn’t be here without you. So…yeah.”

  Loki’s eyes were clearing as was his memory. “You said them before? Who exactly is them?”

  “Well, Odin and that woman who was with him.”

  Loki and Mir exchanged glances. “What woman?” They asked, together.

  “She was beautiful. Really beautiful. Long black hair and really dark eyes, black almost…” While she explained, Morgane hoped the looks they exchanged didn’t mean trouble.

  Loki’s next, careful question made her heart skip faster. As if hysteria vibrated beneath the surface of every word. “This beautiful, dark-haired woman. What exactly did she say to you, Morgane?”

  “Just some stuff about how Odin should give me what I wanted. And how fun everything was. And she thanked him for his help. But Mir said Odin never does anything for anyone but himself, so I thought the whole thing was kind of strange.”

  Mir interrupted. “Why in the fuck would he do anything for her? Why is she even here?” He looked pissed. Pissed and worried. “Did the woman ask you initially for the bargain, or…please tell me you didn’t offer her something first?”

  “I…” Morgane strained to remember. “I guess I did, actually. I told her if there was a price, I’d pay it. I said to just tell me what they wanted.”

  “Anything else?” Mir’s voice sounded weak.

  “I swore it on my life.”

  Mir ground out a foul curse.

  But all of Morgane’s attention focused on Loki. Though he spoke in the barest of whispers, every word was clear. “You should have just let me die, damn it. You should have left me there and never looked back.” He cradled his head in his hands. “Now there’s no going back, is there?” It sounded like a plea. Mir shook his head.

  “You are scaring me. Both of you.” Morgane swallowed hard, eyes shifting back and forth. “There weren’t any terms. They didn’t ask me for a single thing. I only wanted you to live.” Behind Loki, Mir frowned. “What in the hell did I just agree to?”

  When neither of them answered, she practically screamed, “What in the hell is going on here?
”

  “You made a deal with the devil, is what you did,” Mir whispered too softly.

  “No.” She swallowed. “Oh no. I made a deal with your boss. Asshole though he is, he’s not a complete monster. How bad can it possibly be?” She hesitated. Well, it could get pretty bad. Demons. Gods. Immortals. Whatever this was she’d gotten mixed up in, she had to admit, she was awfully far out of her league.

  Loki took a shaky breath. “First, I need to get out of this fucking infirmary.” He looked around the bleak, sterile room, which was a bloody disaster. “Mir’s going to have to help me upstairs.” He pointed to Morgane. “And you’re coming with us. And then…me and you are having a little chat.”

  She didn’t argue.

  13

  Twenty minutes later, overlooking the city from the leaded glass windows, Morgane had to admit Loki’s room had a sweet view. Just slightly better than the one from her shitty apartment. “Amazing.”

  From this vantage point, she also knew exactly where they were. “We’re in the Phoenix Building, aren’t we? Top floor, if I’m not mistaken?”

  “Yeah, how did you know?” His voice was still a hollow husk of what it had been, but at least he was talking. Breathing. She couldn’t even turn around because if she did, she would cry again. And if she started crying, she may never stop. Instead, she kept her gaze locked on the city, the buildings, the lake stretching out beyond.

  What was she supposed to say? Oh you know, it’s just my favorite building in the whole city. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve stood on the sidewalk below and dreamed of looking out this exact window. Wondering who lived here.

  She shrugged, staring out. “Oh, you know. I’ve been by it before.”

  The building had been a marvel when it was built, standing alone on the shore of the lake, a hundred and fifty years prior. Made of solid blocks of limestone, each weighing over seven tons, the place was a fortress. Though it was dwarfed these days by its steel and glass neighbors, it had lost none of its charm. The gothic windows alone stood twenty feet high. It might be located on one of the busiest corners of the city, but the place remained an enigma, as it had always been privately held. Feeling the penetrating glare of the man waiting behind her, Morgane knew exactly why that was.