by J. C. Diem
“Not yet, but she will be in a few more days. There is no need for me to wait until she expires before I end your life.” Rounding the couch, Fate took stock of the God of Mischief. His clothing was wrinkled and his hair was messy. Whether he liked it or not, he was feeling guilty for discarding his ward. He watched her listlessly as she took a seat beside him.
“Is she suffering?” Loki asked. He silently cursed at himself when she lifted a brow.
“You are concerned about her welfare?” Fate asked in surprise.
“I do not want her to feel pain,” he admitted and grimaced at his sign of weakness. He shouldn’t care about what happened to Bianca since she’d betrayed him, but he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her.
“She is suffering from starvation, thirst and despair, but there is still time for you to save her,” Fate said. Loki’s face hardened and she sighed. “I see that your pride is more important to you than even your life.” She was silent for a moment, then placed her hand over his heart. “The question you should have asked is not whether Bianca is suffering, but how much pain you will endure when I end your life for failing me.”
He met her gaze and he couldn’t dredge up the energy to care. “Will I suffer?” he asked in a rare show of obedience.
Fate smiled and it held no enjoyment. “Oh, yes. You will feel immense agony.” Without further ado, she began to drain what was left of his magic. She didn’t draw his essence out gently through a kiss this time, but forcibly tore it from him instead.
Loki’s head went back and the chords on his neck stood out. He reached out and grasped her shoulder. His fingers clamped down hard enough to make her wince. He began to scream as his body was slowly drained of power.
Fate paused in drawing out his magic when his screams finally petered out from sheer exhaustion. She leaned in to speak into his ear. Her face was so close to his that her hair brushed against his cheek. “Do you wish to die, Loki of Asgard?”
Listless and exhausted, he managed to turn his head far enough to meet her eyes. A spark of defiance burned within him. “No,” he whispered. Even up this close, he couldn’t determine what color her eyes were.
“Why should I let you live?”
“I can give you no reason to do so,” he replied. “In fact, I highly recommend that you kill me.”
“I sense conflict within you,” she murmured. “What weighs on your mind?”
He grimaced at a flare of pain that twisted inside his tortured body. “I regret sending Bianca to the Viltaran mothership,” he forced himself to admit. “I would take it back if I could.”
Musing, she drummed her fingers on his chest. “I see.” She was silent for a few moments before she spoke again. “That changes things.”
“How so?” he asked. He was almost too spent to form the question.
“I wish to see Bianca restored to Earth, yet I am unable to retrieve her myself.”
“Then let me retrieve her,” he offered, feeling a spark of hope.
“What guarantee do I have that you won’t simply discard her once more?”
“I will not risk your wrath again,” he said as humbly as was possible for a being who contained so much pride. “I now know how powerful you are and I am aware that I am no match for you.”
Fate smiled a little in disbelief at his sudden show of good sense. Then she surprised him by straddling his waist. “We shall see,” she murmured. She stared into his eyes and delved into his mind. He’d been truthful and he did regret sending Bianca away. “I will give you one last chance,” she decided. “I will give you back enough energy to save your ward.”
Loki felt energy surging back into him as Fate pressed her mouth against his. His hands went to her lower back and gripped her tightly as she breathed his magic back into him. She held his shoulders just as tightly as she kissed him with surprising skill. His groin stirred, indicating how vastly improved he felt. “Was it really necessary for you to kiss me to transfer my energy back to me?” he asked her almost crankily when she finally pulled away. For such a powerful being, she had a strange way of going about things.
“No,” Fate admitted. “Sometimes, it is nice to pretend that I am more than just a mere tool.” With that astonishing fact, she disappeared.
Shaking his head at the baffling foibles of women, Loki surged to his feet. He left the apartment and headed for the nearest transport ship. Joining a group of collared humans, he cloaked himself in illusion to make himself appear to be one of them. He didn’t want his allies to know what he was up to. If they suspected for even a moment that Bianca might be more than just an assistant to him, they might use her against him.
Herded onto a ship, they made the short journey to the vessel high above Dallas. He allowed himself to be locked in a cell, but he didn’t stay in the crowded room for long. Once the Viltaran droid left, he used his magic to unlock the door and slipped outside. He was careful to lock it again just in case the cells were being monitored.
Following his link to Bianca, he trotted through the unguarded hallways. It took him several minutes to reach her cell. He stood on his tippy toes and peered through the window at the crowded room. He frowned when he couldn’t see her. She was smaller than average, so maybe she was simply hidden in the crush. Using his magic to unlock the door again, he felt a small surge of dizziness. Fate hadn’t restored enough of his power and he was still far weaker than usual.
The door slid open and he began pushing his way through the docile humans to where he could sense Bianca. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the stench of sweat, human waste and spoiled meat. It was even worse than he’d expected even though he’d known what their conditions were like.
Reaching the corner, he shoved his way through and saw Bianca sitting on the ground. Her head rested on her knees and her face was hidden by her arms. She was either deeply asleep, or unconscious. She didn’t rouse when he hunkered down to touch her shoulder. He spoke quietly into her ear. “Bianca, it is time to go home.” Again, she showed no signs of being aware he was there.
He slipped an arm beneath her legs and picked her up. She’d already been slender before, but she was now bordering on being too skinny. He worked his way back outside, then used his magic to close and lock the door again. With luck, his allies would never know about this rescue mission.
He encountered no one as he made his way back to the hold. Cloaking them both in illusion, he now appeared to be a Grimgorg shaman. He joined a small group as they climbed into one of the ships and made sure to stand in a corner. He heard snatches of their conversation as they whispered together. It was enough to know that King Rho was plotting against both him and the Viltarans.
Smiling grimly, Loki made sure he was the last to leave the ship when it landed in Dallas. He made his way through the deserted streets back to the penthouse that he’d commandeered. Bianca didn’t rouse as he gently set her down on the bathroom floor. She was too filthy to place her on any other surface. He filled the tub with water, then stripped them both bare.
Unlike the last time, she didn’t awaken as they soaked in the tub. He tortured himself by washing her entire body with soap and a washcloth. Her hair was filthy, so he washed it as well. The water was dirty by now, so he carried her from the tub. He dried them both, then dressed her in a t-shirt and underwear and put her to bed.
Studying Bianca’s drawn, pale face, he wondered if her mind had been irreparably damaged by what she’d endured in that cell. He’d seen bones lying on the floor of the prison and he knew the type of food the captive humans had been eating. Disgust, and another emotion welled inside him. He didn’t want to admit that he felt pity for their plight. The humans were nothing more than a means to an end, and it would be best if he remembered that.
Fate had given him one final chance. He’d rescued Bianca from a horrible fate, but he knew it wasn’t over yet. She was fragile and it would be difficult to keep her from harm. He’d proven that he couldn’t always hold his temper. Hopefully, she’d learned t
he folly of betraying him. Surely, she wouldn’t do anything as foolish as trying to lead him into a trap again.
Lying down next to Bianca, he stared up at the ceiling. He wished he could see into the future, but he didn’t possess that particular skill. Just like him, the Grimgorg and Viltarans were ambitious and treacherous. There was no telling when his allies would turn on him. He would have to watch over Bianca and keep his eye on Uldar and King Rho as well.
Still unconscious, Bianca turned towards him as if seeking comfort. With a soft sigh, he surrendered to her silent wish and gathered her into his arms. He’d been responsible for the hell she’d endured on the Viltaran ship. The least he could do was hold her until she woke up.
He didn’t want to examine the other reasons why he felt compelled to take her in his arms, such as how nicely she fit against him, or how tempting her body was. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to fall asleep. A thought clung to him as he went under. He hoped Bianca would be able to find it in herself to forgive him, but he knew it was too much to ask. He knew better than anyone that some actions were too horrible to ever be pardoned.
Titles by J.C. Diem:
Mortis Series
Death Beckons
Death Embraces
Death Deceives
Death Devours
Death Betrays
Death Banishes
Death Returns
Death Conquers
Death Reigns
Shifter Squad Series
Seven Psychics
Zombie King
Dark Coven
Rogue Wolf
Corpse Thieves
Snake Charmer
Vampire Matriarch
Web Master
Hell Spawn
Hellscourge Series
Road To Hell
To Hell And Back
Hell Bound
Hell Bent
Hell To Pay
Hell Freezes Over
Hell Raiser
Hell Hath No Fury
All Hell Breaks Loose
Fate’s Warriors Trilogy
God Of Mischief
God Of Mayhem
God Of Malice, the final book in my Fate’s Warriors trilogy, is due to be published on the 2nd of July. If you would like to be advised of any new releases, email me at: [email protected] or visit my website www.jcdiem.com and sign up to receive my newsletter.
