“Looking for you. We parted ways after following your trail to Oneida Lake. He’s had his nose to the ground, sniffing for clues.”
“Did he find anything?”
Thorin grumbled again. “Not even a whisper.”
I pumped my fist in victory. Off-the-grid Solina—sign me up for black ops, and kiss my grits, James Bond. “Thorin, I think someone knows where I’ve been.” I told him about Rolf Lockhart.
Thorin put steel into his voice when he said, “Where are you right this moment?”
“At a hotel in Sacramento.” I gave him the street address and my room number.
“Sacramento? What the hell…?” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Never mind. Stay put. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.” He paused and added a final warning. “And wherever we go from there, from now on, you won’t leave my side. I thought I could trust the Valkyries to protect you. I thought I could trust you to know better than to go out on your own.”
“You want something done right, you gotta do it yourself?” I asked, my words thick with derision. “I’m not going to run from you, Thorin. If I were, I wouldn’t have called you in the first place.”
“You could always change your mind.”
“I could, but I won’t. You’ll have to take a chance on me whether you like it or not. I’m guessing you will.” I thumbed the End button and cut off the call before Thorin replied. He would show up for no other reason than he couldn’t stand to let me have the last word. And because he liked to think he was in control.
I chuckled to myself. He’s going to be so disappointed.
Chapter Six
Was I glad for the impending reunion, or was I scared, or apprehensive? When the door of my motel room shuddered under the pounding of Thorin’s fist, I felt a little of all three at the same time. I inhaled a deep breath, drew open the door, and there he stood: God of Thunder with his hands shoved into the pockets of worn jeans. His pale hair hung loose, softening his austere expression—so surreal yet so unassuming. Even in scuffed boots and an old flannel shirt, Thorin’s magnificence made my heart dance an eager jig.
I stepped back, and Thorin crossed the threshold. His movement stirred the air and brought a whiff of late summer sun showers. Thorin and I faced each other in the small area between the foot of the bed and the dresser. Part of me wanted to scurry away, but I pushed the urge aside and met the full weight of his gaze. Darkness showed in his eyes, but not the depthless black of rage or other intense emotions. Maybe that meant he would be reasonable.
“So, Sunshine. I’ve reconstructed a timeline from what I already know, but I’d like to hear from you just exactly how long you’ve been hiding from me.”
“No ‘Good to see you. How’s it been?’” I asked. “Just straight to the inquisition.”
Thorin said nothing but glared at me.
I sighed and slumped down on the corner of the bed. “I wasn’t hiding.” Big fat lie number one.
“How long?” he growled.
“I wasn’t hiding, not from you, anyway.” Big fat lie number two.
“From who, then?”
I arched a brow in a meaningful way. “Do you really need me to make a list?”
Thorin grimaced and waved for me to continue.
“As far as anyone knew, I was dead. And regular dead is a way better alternative to being chewed up by a wolf to fulfill some cataclysmic prophecy, no?”
“You can see how well that worked out.”
“I made it five weeks,” I said. “I was on the road for one week and in San Diego for four before that Rolf guy showed up and started making threats. How can you not know who he is? Only so many of you survived Ragnarok.”
“Reincarnation, a Jötunn, or simply a well-connected human who has deep pockets and access to high-level technology—he could be anyone or no one.”
“He wasn’t no one. And he wasn’t simple.”
“There were nine worlds,” Thorin said as his phone rang. He tugged the device from his pocket and peered at the screen. “He could have come from any of them.”
Thorin swiped his thumb over the screen and put the phone to his ear. An animated voice on the other end rattled on for a bit before Thorin replied with a casual, “Yup. She’s here.” And a moment later, “Yes, she’s fine.” After the caller spoke again, Thorin said, “I don’t know yet. I’ll give you a call when we figure it out.”
“Who was that?” I asked when he hung up.
“Val.”
I blanched. I would have rather faced the wolf than deal with Val. Skoll wanted to kill me, and I harbored a steadfast and unequivocal loathing for the wolf. Val, however, wanted to own me and had used heavy-handed methods to get his way. I didn’t hate him, but I wasn’t eager to face him yet, either.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“North Carolina.”
My pulse skittered. North Carolina was home, the place I most wanted to protect and keep separate from the strange and dangerous world of magic and monsters. “Did he really think I was dumb enough to go back there?”
“Weren’t you?”
“Dumb? No. Incognizant? Yes. I left there fast. I knew what a danger it was.”
“Well, it’s as good of a place to look for your trail as any.”
Thorin was right, which is why I hadn’t stayed. Not wanting to talk about home anymore, I moved on to my next question. “How about Baldur? Where is he?”
Thorin’s brows drew down into a contemplative look. “Back in New Breidablik. Why?”
Instead of answering, I asked another question. “What were your plans for me once you got here? When you heard my voice on the phone and you knew it was me, what did you think would happen next?”
The furrow in Thorin’s brow deepened. “I thought I’d come and make sure you were safe.”
“Then what?”
“Then I planned to take you back to Alaska, regroup with Val and Baldur, and put you somewhere safe. Being out in the open, as you’ve discovered, is too dangerous.”
“So, lock me in a cage. That’s your answer?”
Thorin’s jaw clenched. He folded his arms over his chest, and darkness—the cold, angry kind—glinted in his eyes. “I’m sure if I say yes, you’ll tell me all the reasons why that would be a bad idea.”
“You’re a smart guy, Thorin. I’m sure you could figure them out for yourself.”
“Why did you call me? If it wasn’t my protection you were seeking, then what do you want from me?”
“I do want your protection,” I said.
Thorin’s eyebrow flickered upward, and his expression changed from antagonized to intrigued.
“I want your brawn and your might. I want your experience and knowledge, too. I want all these things for several specific reasons, and none of them have to do with you locking me up in a cage. How would that work, anyway? Your conscience is appeased because you saved the world—and yourself—without having to kill an innocent woman. Meanwhile, I rot away in captivity. Is that how you see it going?”
A-a-and here comes the animosity again. But no, quite the opposite. Thorin’s severe posture relaxed. He slumped onto the bed beside me and rubbed his eyes. “Is that really how you see me, Sunshine? It’s true I’m an immortal being and a god, and it’s my nature to command and expect submission, but I have also lived as a man for a very long time. It has tempered me, some, believe it or not.”
Thorin scratched his jaw. “When I left you at the Aerie, the last time I saw you, I thought we had established a trust between us. I thought we had an understanding. I had proved myself capable of compromise, but then you took advantage of my goodwill. You used it to deceive me, so forgive me if I’m less inclined to reason with you now.”
Thorin’s argument made more sense than I wanted to admi
t. All the ire and self-righteous pomp I had built up in preparation for confronting him seeped out like air from a leaky balloon. I stared at the blank TV screen and said, “It would be easier if you were just the Thor stereotype. Angry. Rash. Obstinate. Not too bright.”
Thorin snorted, but a smile played on his lips. “Then you could dismiss me and not take my opinions or feelings into consideration.”
“Yes. It’s easier to keep you at an arm’s length that way.”
“It’s no surprise that building walls would be your tendency, Sunshine. You’ve been hurt. Badly. That’s not a thing anyone easily overcomes.” He spoke truth.
I didn’t want to let Thorin in, didn’t want there to be more between us than an agreement, a compact based on our mutual need for survival. His last words to me at the Aerie had indicated he wanted the same thing: distance, objectivity. But there he sat, slumped beside me in a dingy motel room in Sacramento, offering compassion. His presence felt like a lot more than a cold business agreement.
“I didn’t deceive you on purpose. At the Aerie. I was trying to protect you.”
Thorin exhaled a heavy breath. “I know that, and I should probably express my gratitude.”
I chuckled. “I’m sure that’s not really in the nature of a god, either, is it?”
Thorin looked at me, his eyes warm and brown. “Not so much.” His expression turned serious again. “I am immortal, Solina, and not so easy to kill. Going forward, I need to know you appreciate that fact. You should never make the choice to risk yourself for me or Val or any of our kind.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but the words didn’t come. I shook my head, cleared my throat, and started again. “I understand. I do. But in the short time you’ve known me, you must have realized I’m not the type to sacrifice others to save myself. Which brings me to the reason I called you.”
“It wasn’t because you were longing for my companionship?” Thorin waved in a dismissive gesture. “Don’t worry. I won’t make you admit it.”
I laughed, thankful for the offering of his humor. “I do welcome your company, but you’re right, it’s not the reason I reached out to you. What I really want is to have your help in accomplishing two things.” I held up my index finger. “First, I want to stop running and hiding. I want us to be more proactive about our approach to Helen and Skoll. Get them before they get us.”
“And the second thing?”
I raised my middle finger, making a pair. “I want you to help me find Skyla.”
Thorin’s jaw slackened, and he blinked several times, obviously overcome by surprise. Then he recovered his composure and said, “I can agree with being proactive, but I don’t see how hunting for Skyla would be the best use of our time and resources right now. Why should we make finding her a priority?”
“Why? Because if you don’t help me, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of my life chasing me down and hoping you find me before the wolf does.”
That got him. Thorin sobered and rubbed his jaw. He raised his chin and peered down his nose at me, but a twinkle shone in his eye. “That’s not being proactive. That’s just wasting time.”
“Chasing me is a waste of time? You’re probably right, but chasing Skyla wouldn’t be. She’s my number-one ally. She didn’t abandon me when I needed her most, and now it’s my turn to not abandon her. Don’t tell me you don’t appreciate loyalty, Thorin. I know how you feel about Baldur.”
“If I were to agree to your demands”—Thorin’s eyebrow arched high in skepticism—“how would we even begin? She could be anywhere. Or nowhere. You should be prepared for the worst.”
“I know that.” I had, in a weak moment, admitted to myself that Skyla might be dead, but I wouldn’t abandon her until I had verified her death. No amount of reasoning would change my mind. “But I have to know, either way.”
“Should I call Nate and ask him to tell us what happened? Schedule a meeting and demand proof of life?”
“Do you think he would respond to that?”
Thorin gave me a what-do-you-think look.
I shrugged. “Well, if you don’t think Helen or Nate would be willing to just hand Skyla over, assuming they took her in the first place, then I might have another idea about how to track her down.”
Thorin’s head tilted, and his brows drew together. “What’s that?”
“Baldur. He’s an expert in searching for missing women, no?”
Thorin nodded.
“And how does he do that? Cross his fingers and pray for good luck?”
“He’s created an extensive information-gathering network,” Thorin said. “He’s always had such a thing, in one form or another. He’s always used it to find Nina.”
“Information-gathering network?” I laughed. “How come, when you say that, I picture courier pigeons and tin cans strung between bedroom windows? How’s his Morse code?”
“Don’t be so critical,” Thorin said. “You’d be surprised how well we’ve adapted over the years.”
“Okay, then. You’ve proven my point. Baldur is our best chance for finding Skyla. Let’s get to Baldur, plug Skyla into his system, and see what turns up. At the same time, we can track down Skoll.”
“And then what?”
I rubbed my hands together and grinned. “Then we kill him.”
Thorin had arrived via Aesir Interdimensional Expressway, and he didn’t offer to take us to New Breidablik on the same route. One of these days, I’m going to find out how they move around like they do. Instead, Thorin whipped out his cell phone and made a call, to order a car to come pick us up. After securing our transportation, Thorin called Val and shared our plans to reunite with Baldur at New Breidablik.
“If you want to know the details,” Thorin said, “meet us at the Executive Airport in Sacramento… Yes, Sacramento… Don’t ask. I’ll tell you later.”
“We’re taking your jet?” I asked after Thorin ended the call.
“No. It’s booked. We’ll charter a private flight.”
God of Thunder and Lord of Deep Pockets. The Aesir’s wealth was a handy resource for funding the prevention of the apocalypse. Sometimes, I felt a little guilty about all the money the Aesir spent on my behalf, but my logical side overruled my shame. It would’ve really sucked to have to say, “Sorry world, could have saved you, but I was too short on cash.”
After a while, a sleek black car rolled up to our door and honked. Thorin escorted me from the motel room and opened the car’s rear door. I eased into the buttery leather interior, all plush and full of new-car smell. Maybe I swooned a little. Thorin tossed my tote bags in the trunk and slipped around the car. He slid into the seat beside me and gave me a smug smile.
I waved in a gesture that encompassed the whole car. “Are you for real?”
“What do you mean?” Thorin asked as the driver reversed out of the parking lot, shifted into drive, and pulled onto the highway.
“I thought these were the cars the villains were supposed to drive.”
Thorin smirked. “Who says I’m the good guy?”
“You’re one of the few not trying to kill me. Makes you a good guy in my book.”
“Have you never been in a car like this before, Sunshine?”
I snorted and thought of the plain white Civic sitting in my driveway at my parents’ house. I’d had that car since high school, and I had bought it already used and well worn. “I don’t really roll with the Jag-you-wah crowd,” I said, pronouncing the name in a bad British accent.
Thorin winked. “Then you’ve been missing out.” He barked something in a foreign language, and the driver stomped the gas pedal. The car leapt forward like a thoroughbred eager to run. My pulse took off along with it.
“What about cops with radar guns?” I asked, breathless. “I thought you said police compl
icated things.”
Thorin stared out his window as the highway roared past us. “Do you trust me, Sunshine?”
That was a loaded question if ever there was one. I closed my eyes, leaned back against the headrest, and tried to loosen my choke-hold grip on the door handle. “Yes,” I croaked. “Why do you think I called you over anyone else?”
Thorin’s response came after a lengthy pause. Maybe my frankness confounded him. That would be a first.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he said. “Try to relax and enjoy the ride.”
Val Wotan met us in the entrance hall of the Sacramento Executive Airport, a small annex for private jets near the larger, commercial airport. The moment I sighted Val’s familiar face, my emotions jumped up and took off in a confusing swirl. Anger partnered with affection and spun a dizzying waltz. Antipathy and longing locked eyes and stalked around each other like partners in a hostile tango.
Val set his mouth in a thin line. His jaw jutted, and blue sparks glinted in his narrow stare.
“This is going to be a long trip if you’re going to insist on brooding all the way to New Breidablik,” I said as I passed him on my way into the airport’s small lobby.
“I’m not brooding,” Val said through gritted teeth. He stalked behind me, and I imagined him panting and growling like an angry bear. “You lied to me, and I am trying desperately hard not to shake you until your teeth rattle.”
I hacked a derisive laugh and spun around to face him. “You haven’t learned anything, have you? Don’t you know by now that I don’t respond well to threats?”
Val sneered. “Maybe I need another lesson.”
“You’re being a humongous jerk about something that isn’t that big of a deal.”
Val’s face shifted, and something pained and frightened showed in his expression. He stepped closer and loomed over me. He didn’t touch me, but he had to know his superior height and size intimidated me. Except for a desk clerk, whose attention Thorin was currently occupying, the tiny airport lobby was empty. No one noticed Val’s hostility. So much for airport security.
Arctic Dawn (The Norse Chronicles Book 2) Page 5
