The Wildcard (Like Flies Book 2)

by Fallacious Rose

  "I’m speaking to you in my language, the language of my birth. Ur harath, my love, ur sigath, my beautiful. Em hadroth, I want to devour you.

  She opened her eyes to see his crystal pupils blazing down at her.

  "Devour me?"

  "Like this." He bent to her thighs and was between them before she could mouth any objection - not that she wanted to. His tongue teased her into a delirium of pleasure almost too hard to bear, between her lips, over her clitoris, inside her sex. She felt the light hairs of his chest brush against her stomach, and the light prickle of day old beard against her inner thighs. Part of her wished that he would stop before she died in an explosion of delight - and part of her didn’t wish that at all.

  She came, and came again, and then he entered her with a sigh of pleasure, and made love to her, open-eyed, gazing full on her face as if he’d opened a secret room and found a work of art, lost and incomparable. When he came, he brought his lips down on hers and gave her his release like a gift. She circled her arms around him and they slept for a time.

  When she woke, she lifted her head from his shoulder.

  "Do the gods always make love like that?"

  "They do not know how to," he said drowsily. "I think mortals have the best of it after all."

  Chapter 16

  They woke after a few hours. The northern lights had gone, who knows where, and the fire had sunk to sullen embers. Green reached for her heavy coat and pulled it across both of them. She was cold, again.

  Baldur, naked, slid out from beside her and regarded the dying fire guiltily.

  "I am sorry, there is no more wood. Hodr does not visit here often."

  "I guess we’re just lucky there was any at all," Green said sleepily. Baldur kicked at the embers.

  "I suppose that we should get back or we will freeze out here."

  Green reached for her clothes, and stopped. They weren’t alone.

  "Poor little mortals. How weak you are. It must be humiliating. Are you cold? Here, let me help you."

  Set pointed a finger and the fire sprang into life, the flames blue as a neon sign. Baldur stood in one fluid movement, his naked body painted in its light.

  "Set. How nice of you to drop in."

  Set grinned, his hands on lean hips. In jeans and a black silk shirt, he wasn’t dressed for the weather - but then he had no need to be. Scrambling into the coat she'd used as a blanket, Green got up and stood beside Baldur, gripping his arm tightly. The two men stared at one another. On the one side, hatred tinged with a gloating defiance, like a boy who unexpectedly knocks his elder brother down in a fight; on the other, cold determination.

  It was the first time Green had really had a chance to examine this malevolent creature - Set, Dionysos - face to face, in the flesh. He was even taller than she remembered, just as malevolent, and the snake on his skull writhed and flickered as if it had a life of its own. Set gestured at the hearth.

  "Better now? More homely, perhaps?"

  Baldur inclined his head.

  "Thank you. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

  Set showed a glimpse of teeth in a humourless smile.

  "I came to see how you were faring, cousin, in your banishment to earth."

  "As you see, well enough."

  "A man who cannot keep his woman warm is not faring well."

  "I’m just fine," Green said hotly.

  "It speaks." Set swept cold black eyes over her. "A plain face, but the body - I can see why you bothered, cousin. Maybe I, too, will take a nibble before I cut her throat."

  Baldur’s eyes blazed, blue crystal in the neon light.

  "I will kill you first, cousin."

  Set laughed sourly, as if someone had told a joke that wasn’t particularly funny. "You will kill me? You are as weak as she is. If you know what is good for you and all of us, you will stand aside and let me take her, as I should have long ago."

  Green shrank against Baldur's side. The tension between the cousins was a taut steel wire, pulled to breaking point. And Baldur was helpless. This couldn’t end well.

  Baldur put Green behind him, and his voice was icy.

  "The law forbids us to harm one another, or the girl. Hodr broke the law - and he inhabits earth, for as long as he lives. I broke the law and I am as you say - a mortal man with only mortal means. What do you think will happen to you, then, Set the son of Hera? When Zeus-Ra hears that you have broken the law, and for the second time?"

  "The law?" Set said in a low, menacing tone, stalking forward. "As you say, cousin, we have both fallen on the wrong side of the law - but I think you have had the worst of it. If I kill you now - my father will be angry, and my mother will be pleased - that is the truth of it. Which is more powerful, I do not know. But if I kill her now, no one will care. Her life was forfeit anyway, since you so unwisely saved her from her proper fate."

  "You will not kill Green, or anyone." Baldur clenched his fists, his muscles standing out corded under his naked skin. "I will lay my life down for this woman. I have defeated you before, cousin - do you not remember it?"

  "That," said Set gleefully, "was when you were an immortal. But now - you cannot even start a fire. I can do whatever I like."

  Set surged forward, a black river in spate, and struck Baldur full in the face, open handed. The blow knocked him across the room, to fall dazed on the rough wooden floor. Green screamed and ran towards Baldur, appalled, but he struggled up. His face, normally pale and perfect, was streaked with a line of blood trickling down from one temple.

  "I will die before you hurt her."

  "Your choice," said Set, and with a gesture of the hand that seemed to rend the air apart, sent Baldur hurling back down, his naked body slamming into the wall. Set smiled wolfishly at Green, and took a step towards her, long-fingered hand outstretched. "Now, shall we finish what we started, so long ago? There is no hero to save you now, lady Green."

  Her eyes widened, and she curled her own fingers into claws, and bared her teeth.

  "You can try." She stooped quickly for the hearth iron and stood, legs braced, facing him. He snickered, long and low.

  "You have got to be kidding. As you mortals would say."

  He gathered towards her, a towering wave of controlled ferocity, and she lifted the hearth iron and brought it crashing down on his black silk shoulder. She’d aimed for his head. He lurched back, cursing in surprise and fury.

  "You little bitch!"

  "You bet I am."

  She snarled at him, barely conscious of Baldur dragging himself painfully over the floor towards them.

  Set shook his head like a bear and raked one long claw out towards her, ripping through the cold air. She parried desperately with the fire iron, and poised herself ready to meet the next blow.

  Without warning, he dissolved into the shape of a great wolf and roared towards her, chaos in his eyes. She felt the stink of his hot breath, but stood her ground, holding the fire iron with both hands. He whirled around her, a hurricane of fear and fury, and she stood in the still centre, somehow unharmed. At last, the dark shape faded and dispersed, like mist in a wind. With a snarl, he was gone.

  Baldur dragged himself painfully to his knees. She crouched down beside him, and touched the blood on his forehead with a careful finger.

  "Are you alright?"

  He grimaced.

  "Yes. And you?"

  She could see that he was ashamed.

  "I'm fine...I guess. I don't know what just happened."

  He smiled crookedly.

  "It seems that you are the one with super powers here, little beast."

  "I don’t think so. I don’t know...he jumped at me - and then he just seemed to pass over me. Like air or something."

  He began to pull on his clothes. His skin was bruised and the silver hair was matted and sticky. He met her wide eyes and looked down at himself, unused to the experience of mortality after all these years.

  "However it came to pass, you have saved us both. I thank yo
u. I have never seen such courage as you showed, not even in the halls of Valhalla where the warriors come to feast."

  She blushed, pulling on her jeans. "I wasn’t being brave. I just wasn’t thinking. I don’t know what happened either."

  They dressed quickly, and Baldur opened the door on to the arctic night.

  "We must go back to Hodr. There is something here that I don’t understand. We must find out what it is, or expect another visit from my cousin, I think. I underestimated him - it seems that he will stop at nothing. I think he will not be caught off guard again."

  Chapter 17

  Baldur sat by Hodr’s fire, a bandage around his head. It looked incongruous - an immortal with his head wrapped up like a hospital patient. But then, he wasn’t immortal any more. Green sat on the other side of the hearth, nursing a hot chocolate. She couldn’t help thinking it was ironic that she - a mere mortal, and a female one - should be the one to save them both from an immortal nemesis. The corner of her lip lifted - she kind of liked the role of superwoman, for once.

  "I don’t know what happened," Baldur said ruefully. "All I know is that I could not protect her, I could not even defend myself - and she out-fought him."

  "I was too worked up to think about it," she confessed, playing it down. "I thought he’d kill me, for sure, but I sort of didn’t care - I was going to take him down with me."

  Hodr looked sceptical.

  "I know - as if. But it’s funny, it was like once I decided to stand up to him, he couldn’t harm me. Like he was a ghost or something - you know, something insubstantial that can scare you but can’t really do anything to you, if you aren’t scared."

  Hodr nodded slowly, his pale blue eyes thoughtful under the bushy white brows.

  "In a way, he is a ghost, as are all our kind, to you. We are not bound to flesh, as you are."

  "Maybe that’s it, then," said Green tentatively. "Maybe all his power is in scaring people - and actually he can’t do anything at all. I mean, I’ve never heard of a ghost actually hurting anyone, all they usually do is screech and rattle their chains. Maybe Set’s just a glorified spook. And I’ve been terrified of him all this time - for nothing."

  "Hmm." He smiled wryly. "If a god can take you on an instant vacation to a distant island, then he can certainly harm you. I would not be too confident, on the basis of one victory."

  "Yes - but it was a victory. Set is a dangerous being, there is no doubt about it - but not to Green, now now. Why?" Baldur ran his hand through the long fall of his hair, then flinched as he reached the bandage. "What has changed?"

  They sat in silence, nonplussed. At last, Hodr spoke.

  "Maybe nothing has changed. Maybe this power - to resist - has been in Green all along, and she did not know it. Didn’t you say that Green is different from other mortals?"

  "Yes - because of the mark on her back. But she is not immune. Set attacked her, in Budapest, and he would have taken her, but for..."

  "Don’t talk about me like I’m not here," interrupted Green indignantly, turning her steaming wet jeans over on the rail in front of the fire. "Who says I’m different from other mortals?"

  "Sorry." Hodr grinned into his beard, and the big white dog, Fafnir, nosed her hand. She ruffled his thick fur and he laid his muzzle flat on her knees, giving a satisfied whine.

  "The Council knows it." Baldur sipped from his own mug of hot spiced wine, rubbing his bruises. "It has been known to the Nine since your birth. Some of us believe you have a meaning beyond yourself, and some of us..."

  "Some of them want to destroy you," finished Hodr grimly. "You are a challenge to the immortals - something beyond their understanding, more than a mere token among other tokens. They do not like it. It ruins their fun."

  "Is that why Set hates me?" She stretched out her feet in the fur-lined boots. She could feel a cold starting. "Because I ruin his...fun?"

  "Set hates you because he likes to be in control, and you are a wild card. If he can’t own you, he wants to destroy you," Baldur said, his voice hard.

  "Set is a prick," said Green, putting her feelings about Baldur’s nasty cousin into one short word.

  "Perhaps Set hates you because he is afraid of you." Hodr waved towards a plate of buttermilk pancakes, piled high and liberally laced with honey and cream. "Eat. You still look half-frozen." He stuffed one into his own mouth, crumbs falling into the snaggled mess of his beard. His belly swelled out like a miniature table - all the better to sit the plate on, Green observed, amused. The buff brother and the...not so buff. But she liked Hodr, a lot. There was nothing hidden about him - and he was a talented cook. "And now he knows he has no real power over you, he will hate you even more."

  "Why should he have power over me, really?" Green’s voice rose. "You keep saying you’re not supermen, you’re not even made of...normal stuff, atoms or whatever like the rest of us. So how can you push people around or make them do anything at all? Aren’t we supposed to have free will?"

  "Only for as long as we allow you to," said Baldur dryly.

  Hodr sat up straight, specks of pancake scattering from his beard on to the floor.

  "You have it!"

  "Has what?" Baldur and Green both looked at him, waiting.

  "She has free will. That’s the answer. That’s why Set cannot harm her."

  "Doesn’t everyone?" Green looked puzzled. "Otherwise what’s the use of being human?"

  Baldur clapped his hand to his forehead and then winced. He’d forgotten the bandage.

  "You’re right, of course. No, they do not."

  She looked at them both in exasperation, waiting for an explanation. They seemed to have it all sorted out between them - now it was time to let her into the big secret. Baldur explained.

  "It’s true that for the most part, tokens - I mean humans - do have free will, in practice. We do not spend our time directing the choices of seven billion individuals, or more if you count the non-human beings on this earth. And it is true that we do not generally intervene directly - it is against the rules of the Game. The Game itself would be pointless, if we used you as puppeteers use their puppets, allowing you no scope to do as you will."

  "Well then..." said Green, leaning forward to interrupt. Baldur held up one hand.

  "But we can intervene. We did not create you to be free agents - you might grow beyond us, and refuse to participate in the entertainments we devise. So when we wish, you are under our influence - and under our command."

  "Really?" Green felt indignation rising in her throat like bile. How dare these beings think they could order people around - and use them as if they were just chess pieces! "So we’re all just here for your entertainment, and you can make us do what you like, whenever you like. The only reason you don’t is that you can’t be bothered!"

  He reached across apologetically, and she gripped the sides of her chair. She’d had enough of being a puppet - for instance, when Baldur’s wife Naina had appeared as a demon inside her head and made her writhe and jerk like a monkey on a stick. Or when she had deliberately murdered her mother, in broad daylight.

  "Green, I do not see you in that way. Nor does Hodr. I lived among you all once, as a mortal. I know you better than most immortals - your generosities, your insecurities, your violence and your passions. Do not blame me for how and why you were created - I had no part in it."

  She shot him a glance from under lowered brows.

  "I don't understand. Created? What about evolution? Don’t tell me it all started with Adam and Eve."

  He shrugged. "You have never found your 'missing link'. And we had plenty of time to wait."

  Hodr held up his hand, grinning.

  "Enough bickering. It is as it is. But you, Green - you should be rejoicing. You’re free to do what you choose - out of all mortals. Set wants to destroy you and no wonder - you’re poison. Imagine if all mortals were like you? imagine if it spread, like a disease - Asgard would collapse in ruins!"

  Hodr obviously didn’t mind the
idea. He guffawed, slapping his knee. "Zeus-Ra would be no more than an old age pensioner, hobbling along with his stick and his one eye...ha ha!"

  She gave a wry smile.

  "You mean, it’d be like taking away their favourite soap opera. People. Longest running show ever, on all day, every day."

  Hodr slapped her hard on the knee, chuckling into his beard.

  "Exactly. More than that, if the immortals can’t control their creation, what can they control? What is their purpose? Nothing!"

  "You would not only take away our soap opera, but our reason for existence. You would cause an existential crisis," said Baldur, regarding her thoughtfully.

  "So let us get on with it," boomed Hodr enthusiastically. "It is about time their cosy little world was overturned."

  Chapter 18

  Green was nervous. She’d been to the bathroom three times already, and no amount of deep breathing, and reassurance from both brothers, seemed to help.

  "Do I have to meet your mother?"

  Baldur sighed. "You do not have to, no. But fair is fair - I met yours."

  Green acknowledged the hit reluctantly.

  "She’s not going to try to attack me, is she? Seeing as she hates me. I mean, I know I’m different - and she can’t actually do anything - but..."

  "No." Baldur and Hodr spoke at the same time, and she was sure she saw Hodr covering a snide grin. Baldur patted her hand, placid as usual.

  "Frigg is not Set. You will see."

  She did see. Frigg wasn’t what she’d expected - a short, round-faced, chestnut-haired goddess with cornflower blue eyes and rosy cheeks - and lips pinched in a judgemental scowl. But the other three - they were, to put it mildly, astonishing.

  "My aunts," Baldur introduced gravely. "Isis, Ishtar, and Artemis."

  Green tried not to gape. Isis was seven foot tall if she was an inch, and had a presence like the Empress of all the Russias. Ishtar was kitted out like the Queen of Babylon, her long red hair piled on her head under a coronet of rubies and pearls - and her bosom was definitely something to write home about. And Artemis - Artemis was muscled like a man, and fierce, and even ugly - judged by conventional standards.