by C. Gockel
“Someone’s not happy,” says McDowell. Steve looks at the speaker. The silence at the other end is ominous.
Loki’s voice crackles. “And I suppose you’d be hopeless at lying to them.”
There is a moment of silence and then Loki says, “Get dressed, we’re going out to eat.”
“Where?”
There are some rummaging sounds and then Loki’s voice again. “Somewhere you can wear this.”
“I’m not wearing the heels.”
Steve blinks, looks at the speaker and has a small epiphany. You can hear a man roll his eyes.
“Very well,” says Loki.
A few minutes later Amy says, “What about your guitar?”
“Leave it.”
Then there is silence.
Pulling a pair of binoculars from his eyes, McDowell scowls at the small garden apartment. “They disappeared — literally. Should we go in?”
Steve nods.
McDowell has a key to Amy’s place, and the door opens easily. But the dog thing Fenrir is barking loud enough to wake the dead. As soon as they enter, the dog lunges for Steve’s ankles. His natural instinct is to kick it, but McDowell scoops it up, catches it in a practiced hold, and throws it in the bathroom. The damn thing does not let up. Steve can hear it throwing itself at the door.
Upstairs the neighbors shuffle. “We better make this fast,” says Steve slipping his phone from his pocket. He dials Amy’s number and curses when he hears her phone ring on the kitchen counter.
“Uh, Agent Rogers...” says McDowell. Steve looks over. McDowell has on plastic gloves; the guitar case is opened in front of him. It’s filled with neatly stacked 1, 10, 20, 50 and 100 dollar bills.
Steve looks at the top of the case and sees traces of white powder. He has a bad feeling about this.
“I think we should bring this in.” says McDowell.
Rubbing his temple, Steve sighs. “Yeah.”
They’re in the car, heading back to headquarters with the guitar case in tow a few minutes later when Steve’s phone begins to vibrate with a text. The number isn’t familiar, but he picks up anyway.
Hey, it’s Amy. Forgot my cell. Am ok. In a cab.
Steve answers as fast as his large fingers can on the tiny keys. Where?
He stares at the three little dots on his screen telling him Amy’s texting back. Instead of an answer he gets. Hi Steve! It’s Loki. I am not telling. I am throwing this phone out the window now. Bye ;-)
Steve scowls. The so-called-God-of-Mischief uses emoticons. It disturbs him almost as much as the white powder in the guitar case.
x x x x
“Wow, this is a really nice restaurant,” says Amy.
Loki looks around. “According to Google,” he says. The main dining room is in subdued blues and grays. The ceiling is as high as the prison cell in the tower. Servers in black suits move around them with the precision of dancers. It’s been a long time since he’s had a really good meal. Cera is bouncing around the room grumbling about ostentatiousness and petty bourgeois, but Loki craves calories that actually taste good. He’s so hungry lately — and eating is becoming such a chore.
“Can you pay for this?” Amy whispers as the maitre de leads them to their table.
Scowling at her, Loki whispers back. “Of course.”
Amy’s eyes narrow. “And you promise the money is real and not stolen?”
Loki smiles. During his journey he dug up some gold he had buried by a wall in Moscow for emergencies just like this one. He has some more in various capitals around the world — but may not need to touch them.
Since he’s been back in the states he’s discovered derivative trading. He does it just to soothe his mind when he isn’t sending out astral projections to spy on ADUO, or trying his hand at hacking.
He will not, however, be using any legitimate funds for this meal. ADUO would trace it. He will be paying with the cash he stole from the same source as Amy’s repayment in the guitar case.
Wiping the smirk from his face, he adopts an air of seriousness. “You have my oath that I now have a source of revenue that is completely legal.” All true! Just a slight bit of misdirection.
...That Amy immediately falls for. Eyes widening, Amy says, “You have a job?”
Loki scowls at her again. “Don’t insult me. I won’t be a wage slave like you.”
“Down with the proletariat!” Cera screeches, her magical voice unheard to everyone else in the room. Loki shoots the mist a warning glance as they sit down. His head throbs suddenly and he can barely pay attention to the waiter. “We’ll take three of the nine course prixe fixe and two wine pairings,” he says — he had read the menu on Google.
The waiter shifts on his feet. “Are you expecting a third person?”
“No,” says Loki massaging his temple. “I’ll eat two.”
“Sir,” says the waiter. “I don’t think that is wise.”
Loki is about to snap, but Amy pipes up. “He can manage. Trust me.”
Loki relaxes infinitesimally, but still isn’t fit to really listen as Amy says something more about eating fish but nothing with hooves or feathers.
“This is a waste of time,” says Cera. “She’s not going to just tell you.”
“I need to eat,” Loki mumbles in Russian.
“So steal a few pounds of butter,” Cera says.
Loki’s stomach drops; he’s had to resort to that of late. Feeling a bead of sweat on his brow, he tries to smile as benevolently as he can. Leaning towards Amy, he whispers conspiratorially. “So you think it was an accident that the Promethean Sphere grew?”
Amy leans forward. “Yes. From what I read in Steve’s file...I think ADUO is actually really afraid...It wasn’t supposed to grow.”
“Oh,” Cera whispers. “She is going to tell you.”
Loki’s headache melts away.
He does not roll his eyes at the red mist in the air. Instead, he leans closer to Amy. The new position gives him a glorious view of her breasts. He does his best to keep his eyes on her face.
By the third course he’s drawn out everything she knows about Steve and Cera’s run in with Odin. He doesn’t even have to work hard at it — which, actually, is a little disappointing.
Loki knew most of the story from Cera. As soon as Odin had touched the World Seed, Cera had read the All Father’s mind, realized he was the Tsar of Asgard, and panicked. Cera tried to suck Odin into the In-Between — the emptiness beyond the World Tree. Odin was strong enough to resist, unlike the religious fanatics who dumped Cera beneath the Board of Trade building, and ADUO’s little robot.
“...and then Steve spit on the raven,” Amy says.
Loki almost chokes on the caviar he is putting in his mouth. Cera hadn’t told him that.
He snorts happily. “You mortals are just getting so impudent!” And hadn’t she called Thor the God of Blunder? He sighs happily. “I like you more and more.”
Amy’s cheeks turn red. She thinks he means her and not humankind in general. Ah, well, let her think he’s enamored. He smiles. “How did you get Steve’s file?”
Amy’s blush spreads to her neck. She looks to the side. “I wasn’t really supposed to see it; it is classified...”
“You stole it!” he says, feeling a sudden wave of admiration.
Her eyes shoot back to him. “No!”
Loki blinks.
“I found it...” she says slowly.
Smirking, Loki raises an eyebrow. “And then you read the entire thing?”
“He gave me a really boring filing job to do!” Studying a spot on the tablecloth, she says, “His file was more interesting.”
He smirks. Loki’s not particularly good at following rules, but he respects them in principle. He’d been a retainer of Odin for a very, very, long time. “Naughty, Amy, very naughty....” And then telling him about it, too.
As if reading that thought, she says, “They shouldn’t be keeping this information from you. They should be w
orking with you. There is something that may be very dangerous to everyone and you might be the only person who can help.”
Pausing his chewing, Loki raises an eyebrow. “Has it occurred to you I may be the bad guy?”
He’s not sure why he says it; he shouldn’t plant that idea in her head. Maybe he said it just to tease, or maybe, as Sigyn says, he just has to make things difficult. He frowns, the food in his mouth turning bitter. As Sigyn used to say.
“You’re not,” she says without even looking at him. “Oooh, here comes the next course...” She looks sideways at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a meal this good in my entire life.”
The little kernel of doubt he planted has been completely dismissed. Worse yet, he feels something uncoiling in his stomach, something he hasn’t felt since Cronus and the peasants, and Hothur and Nanna. It’s faith and it’s heady like a drug.
He can’t decide if he loves it or hates it.
Chapter 3
“...and then he ate most of the chocolates on the after dinner chocolate cart thingy,” Miss Lewis says. “I’m fairly certain that even in humans it would have been enough to cause theobromine poisoning. It would have put an English mastiff in the emergency room.”
It’s the kind of off-the-wall comment that Miss Lewis has occasionally made during her debriefing that reminds Steve there is a very clever mind buried beneath her youth and naivete.
“Theobromine?” says Steve.
“It’s an alkaloid found in chocolates.” Glancing up at the ceiling Amy says, “The wire mesh is on the ceiling, too. Why?”
“That, Miss Lewis, isn’t important.” Actually, it is the same wire mesh used for Promethean Spheres, and it’s very important. Steve’s tech guys have covered the ceiling, floor and walls of the conference room with it, hoping to keep apparitions of Loki out. In some places they’ve stretched the mesh tightly; in other places it hangs awkwardly. They ran out of staples towards the end and used duct tape. The tech guys think it’s great. Steve thinks it looks like he’s wandered into the den of a mad spider. He suggested he wear a tinfoil hat, too — no one seemed to find that funny.
He looks at the screen of the magic detector by his side. The mad spider Promethean web seems to be working. No sign of Loki in here, and they were reasonably sure he’d sent one of his ‘apparitions’ into the building with Miss Lewis this morning.
“Why don’t you tell us about the rest of the evening?” Steve says.
Amy looks back down at them. “He took me home. I asked him in the cab if he really got Thor to dress up as a woman to get his hammer back from the giant, and he said it was true! Loki even managed to convince Thor his magic wasn’t enough on its own to disguise them, so Thor put on a real dress and makeup!”
She grins.
Steve and Bryant stare at her.
Looking embarrassed, she says, “It’s funnier if you’ve seen Thor.” Looking down at the table she adds, “He’s big and has a beard.”
“Uh - huh,” says Bryant.
“Did he get the hammer back?” says Steve, smiling and trying to look interested in this part.
“Yes,” she says. “And then the cab dropped us off at home. He noticed you guys took his guitar.”
Bryant and Steve look at one another.
“Had to,” says Steve. “Evidence.”
“Did he seem upset?” Bryant asks.
“No,” says Amy looking between the two of them. “Are you going to give it back? I mean, it’s just a guitar, right?”
“We won’t give it back,” Bryant and Steve say in unison.
“Geez,” says Amy.
“You’re dismissed,” says Steve.
A few minutes later Bryant and Steve are walking down the hall.
“She belongs in a witness protection program,” Bryant says. “She’s obviously infatuated with him.”
Steve squeezes the styrofoam cup in his hand and it cracks with a pop. “I’ll give her that option,” says Steve.
“Don’t give her the option. Make her take that option,” says Bryant.
Steve’s jaw tenses. “I’ve got a conference call with Merryl,” is all he says. Stepping into his office, he nearly collides with two agents who are starting to put up Promethean wire.
“You guys can hold off on that for now,” Steve says.
Nodding at him, they exit the room, closing the door and leaving a rolled up bundle of wire. As they exit, Steve notices that the “magic detector” next to him has started to glow. He sits down at his desk and pretends to be absorbed in some paperwork.
He’s barely raised his pen when a familiar voice says, “You stole my guitar case and the money I owed Miss Lewis, Steven. I am very disappointed.”
Steve doesn’t even look up, just clicks the pen and starts signing some papers on his desk. “Yep.”
“Are you going to give it back to her?” says Loki, or the apparition of Loki, leaning over Steve’s desk.
“Nope,” says Steve.
“Tsk, tsk, and I thought one of the loveliest things about this country was its respect for property rights.”
Steve pushes back in his chair. Loki is wearing a dark gray suit with a mint green shirt. His hair is ginger again, and too long. He’s got an obnoxious smirk on his face.
Meeting the apparition’s gaze, Steve says, “I don’t think Miss Lewis would accept the repayment if she discovered you stole it from a drug lord and ignited a turf war.” They identified the white powder on the guitar case. It came from a den on the west side where over $100,000 in cash had disappeared — only a few grand of it actually had been in the case, so Loki’s got a wad hidden somewhere. The gang in charge of the den blames a rival gang, of course.
Loki smiles. “Brilliant, wasn’t it? I repay my debts and help rid your city of its criminals all at once.”
“Yes, it’s brilliant,” says Steve. “Two children have already been hit in the crossfire.” And this is why Steve really should insist that Amy Lewis go on the witness protection program. Anyone who incites this kind of chaos is bound to bring pain to everyone in their orbit.
The apparition lifts his head. For a moment his eyes go completely black, and he stares down at Steve with an emotion Steve can’t place.
“But I guess that wouldn’t bother you,” says Steve, looking back down at his papers.
His papers are suddenly rising up to his nose, and he hears carpet tear. Looking up he sees Loki tip the other side of the desk upwards. Steve tries to move, but the edge of his desk already has him trapped in his chair, and he’s flipping over, chair, desk and all. His head hits the thin carpeting on the floor and bounces, and the edge of the desk knocks the wind from him. He’s pinned. Loki springs over the tipped desk, a dark shadow silhouetted by fluorescent lights.
A hand, solid and real, grabs Steve’s collar. “I am not like your friend Odin!” Loki screams, so close Steve catches a whiff of peppermint and soap.
Steve’s hands go to Loki’s. But he’s already gone. Disappeared...Steve turns his head. The little magic detector is on the floor beside him and it is glowing brightly and beeping like mad. Grabbing the device, he pushes the desk off him and climbs unsteadily to his feet. The machine’s beeping slows and the light dims. He hears running footsteps outside his office. He feels a gust of air, like his door has just opened, but he doesn’t see it move.
And then all of a sudden Bryant bursts in. “What happened?”
“Block all the exits,” Steve says, knowing it’s too late. But he also feels better about not putting Miss Lewis on the witness protection program.
He’s following Bryant out of his office when he notices that the roll of Promethean wire mesh that had been sitting by his door is gone.
x x x x
Love is a tease. When you first fall in love with a woman you think you will never be able to get enough of her, that your passion will never be sated. That is how Loki felt through the first early years of his marriage to Aggie. But of course, eventually the passion in t
heir relationship did wane. It wasn’t as though Loki hadn’t been warned. Odin always said, “Show me the most beautiful woman in the nine realms and I will show you a man tired of fucking her.”
But the true inconvenience of love, Loki decides, is that even as passion wanes, love is still there. If anything, his love for Anganboða grows stronger over the years. Maybe it is from sharing books, and making jokes at Baldur’s expense. Or maybe it was her forgiveness when he wagered their house on a ‘sure thing’ and lost — though he promptly won their home back on a long shot. Afterwards he put their small hall in her name so that their short experience of homelessness didn’t happen again.
And even if the sex most of the time is by rote, there are times when after a lull the fires are stoked again, and it is better than anything Loki has experienced with anyone else.
Loki knows that tonight will be one of those times. He is standing on the boat Skidbladnir afloat on the seas of Asgard with Odin, Frigga, Baldur and Thor. With them is Frey, leader of the Vanir, his sister Freyja, guards, and ladies of the court of Vanaheim.
Anganboða is also there, playing maid to Frigga. Anganboða is no maid, but one of Frigga’s ladies was sick. Though Anganboða is married to Loki, she isn’t considered truly a woman; she has borne no children — and not by lack of trying. The court blames Aggie — it is always the woman’s fault. But Loki knows it is him, that’s why Odin doesn’t like him mucking about with Hoenir isn’t it? Loki makes life go wrong.
Right now Loki is not at fault though, even though people on the boat are screaming. The ladies are to one side, being ‘guarded’ by Baldur and a few other cowards. Thor, Odin, Freyja and Frey stand at the other side with Loki and Aggie. Freyja has her sword ready, Thor has Mjolnir in his hands. But Odin only looks bemused; Loki knows there is nothing to fear.
