Loki's Game

by Siobhan Kinkade

  “You have these powers,” Lily said, shifting the conversation again. “Why not just stop time and take the ring.”

  Loki shrugged. “Where’s the sport in that?”

  “This is all a game to you…”

  “Of course.”

  “You are absolutely insufferable,” she snapped. He paused, his features twisting back into Loki’s cruel façade.

  “You would do well to watch your tongue, girl.”

  “Perhaps,” she pushed her plate away, “but maybe my sense of self-preservation isn’t as strong as you thought.” His expression darkened. “Don’t expect me to immediately fall at your feet or into your bed. Just because I made the choice to come to you does not mean you have me.”

  “Then why come to me at all?”

  “Consider it a peacekeeping mission.”

  “Just understand, Lily,” he hissed, dropping his fork to his plate. He dropped his elbows to the table and steepled his hands in front of his face. “I always get what I want, one way or another.”

  * * * * *

  Lily lay awake in bed, thoughts tumbling through her mind so fast that she could remember few of them even seconds after they passed. Despite the tumult, she was acutely aware of two things:

  She missed Rowan.

  She was terrified of Loki.

  As if reading her mind, the phone on the nightstand rang. Without looking at the caller ID, not with a greeting, but with his name.

  “Rowan?”

  “Gods, Lily…I cannot do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Stay away from you.”

  Lily sighed, warmed by the sentiment. “I don’t want to, but you know we have to.”

  “One way or another, this will be over in forty-eight hours.” His voice held a hard edge; a promise.

  “I hope so.”

  Rowan paused, his breath rasping into the phone for several long moments. “I love you, Lily.”

  Her heart stuttered, then seemed to expand in her chest. A broad smile split her face even as tears threatened to fall. “I love you, too,” she replied, her voice scarcely above a whisper.

  “Sleep well.”

  “Good night.”

  Lily slept after that, though not well, and not for long. The alarm went off at six-thirty, and she grudgingly dragged herself from the warmth of her bed. One more day, and the show would be underway. And soon enough, this madness could come to its long-awaited end.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What?”

  Lily blinked at the watery-eyed kid in front of her. He looked like he would piss himself if she made any sudden movements.

  “Miss Reynolds came through about ten minutes ago and said we were going to open tonight.” With a defeated sigh, Lily sank onto a nearby bench. “Sorry, Lily,” the kid offered before scurrying away.

  She scrubbed her face with her palms and tried to swallow the panic in her throat. She needed to talk to Carolyn and fast. She struggled to her feet and ran for the stairwell. Taking two steps at a time, Lily burst through the fourth-floor door and into the sterile office.

  “What do you mean we open tonight?” she shrieked by way of introduction. “We aren’t ready!”

  “Of course you are,” Carolyn said without so much as batting an eyelash. “Your interns are buffing fingerprints from cases. And Mr. Eshu—”

  “Is completely insane!” she shouted. “You can’t do this to me!”

  “Oh, but I can.” Loki’s smooth, cold voice startled her. “It is, after all, my collection.”

  “Why?” she snapped, rounding on him. “Why change it now?”

  “Your work is magnificent,” he said, moving close up behind her. She could feel the warning in his words. “I want to change it now because you have given me such a spectacular display that I can’t wait to get started.”

  Lily wished they weren’t having this conversation here. At all, actually. But there wasn’t much room for wishes anymore.

  “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “Tonight.” She had to talk to Rowan…soon. She hoped his plans could be moved up too. Another bolt of terror rushed through her—did Loki know of Rowan’s plans? Was that why he moved things up? “If we have to open tonight, then I need to get back to work.”

  “A word first?” Loki asked.

  “Later. I’m busy.” Rude? Certainly. But Lily couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. He’d already inconvenienced her enough. If he was determined to talk again, he would have to follow her and make her talk. She raced from the room, slamming open the stairwell door, where she pulled out her phone.

  Opening moved up. Gala tonight.

  Less than a breath later, it blinked.

  Loki is onto us. Will move fast. Be prepared and be careful.

  Lily hurtled herself down the stairs and back to the gallery. Four interns stood in the middle of the room, whispering amongst themselves, unaware of her presence. When one saw her, each of them straightened and turned to face her.

  “We’re opening tonight,” Lily said on a sigh. “We have to be ready. I’m sure we are, but let’s go over things one more time.”

  Together, Lily and her army of frizzy-haired, freckled college kids spent the afternoon perfecting their work; reanalyzing, re-tagging, and re-cleaning. Finally, at 4:30 she sent them home and made her last pass before turning for the door.

  Loki blocked her path.

  “I think you and I will talk now.”

  “If you insist,” she said in a flat tone.

  “Watch your tongue, girl.”

  “What do you want?” she asked with a derisive snort.

  “Tonight,” he said, advancing on her, “you will appear as my escort.” She stood her ground, even as he stood so close that their bodies touched. “And you will be my lover.”

  “But I’m not.”

  “You will be.”

  “You said—”

  “I know what I said,” he snorted. “But you would do well to remember that I do not make a habit of keeping trivial promises.” With a sudden rush of fear, Lily backed away several steps.

  “God or not, you’d do well to keep this one,” she said, and fled the building. She expected to find him blocking her path, but he never appeared. She reached her car, frightened and gasping for breath, and tore away from the building before remembering the icy roads and her not-so-new tires.

  Cursing herself, Lily righted her car on the road and focused on getting home alive, which seemed to help alleviate the raw fear from Loki’s last few statements. The words still bounced through her brain, but she had more important things to worry about…like getting home in one piece and getting back. The majority of the snow was gone, but the water left in its place was already starting to ice over again, making the roads even more dangerous. Combining that with the wet southern air, Lily feared the condition of the roads as the day grew later.

  At the same time, she had to wonder how on Earth they had moved the gala in only a few minutes. Two thoughts crossed her mind simultaneously. First, they’d been working on it for weeks and hadn’t told her. Why they wouldn’t give her notice, she didn’t understand. Second, she was dealing with an old god. He could do almost anything he wished. He’d likely stopped time again or gone back and changed events as he saw fit, particularly if he knew she wasn’t one-hundred percent on his side.

  She only hoped as she navigated the slick streets into her neighborhood that Rowan still had enough time to concoct his plan.

  Lily was careful to lock both the front door and the bathroom door behind her before she shucked her clothes and stepped into the calming heat of her shower. Over and over her mind replayed the wicked things she and Rowan had done in the small space, which didn’t help her nerves.

  It was with shaking hands that she fastened the zipper on her dress and twisted her hair into the smooth chignon that bared her neck and the chain holding the ring. She had grown so used to its cold weight around her neck that she’d managed to forget about it.
<
br />   Lily’s first thought was to take it off—to bury it in her jewelry box and let it wait out this madness. But even as she reached for the clasp she found she couldn’t. Instead, she stared at her reflection and the gold band lying just at the curve of her breasts, contemplating her options.

  She only had one… Wear it. She was already damned. She may as well let Loki know she had what he wanted. With one final deep breath, Lily fluffed her bangs and left the house.

  * * * * *

  Once again Rowan found himself pacing the house like a caged animal. Damn Loki. Once again he’d found a way to be two steps ahead. Unfortunately, Lily’s life hung in the balance, and that said nothing at all of her dignity. Loki would no doubt take what he wanted, whether or not she was willing to give it. He’d find a way to twist her brain and make her think it was him that she wanted.

  Snarling, Rowan punched the wall, putting a six-inch dent in the plaster and drywall in the shape of his fist.

  His best tuxedo hung over the back of the bathroom door, freshly laundered and pressed. Luckily Dane was efficient, whether he smiled or not, and Rowan had everything he needed to end this. Or so he hoped.

  He didn’t have the massive arsenal Loki possessed. He didn’t have the god’s cunning wit and timeless wisdom. But he had seen Asgard, sipped from the Well of Wisdom, and lived more than half a century while watching those he loved wither and die around him. And now the one person that could change his very existence was trapped at the heart of the threat. The task passed down to him by blood stood unfinished, and no matter what it took—a shift or a sharp-edged blade—this would end tonight.

  Rowan stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the tux, careful to knot the tie just the right way, line up the cummerbund with maniac precision, and brush the two bits of lint from the left sleeve of the coat. He stepped into his shoes, and on the way out the door picked up the keys to his car. His last option was to choose a weapon at the door and hope like hell it was the right one.

  * * * * *

  Despite the sudden change in date, the gallery was packed. Men and women in their most fashionable southern-socialite attire milled around the museum, their eager eyes cast toward the still-closed French doors. A large, red ribbon stretched across them. The air was light, expectant. All of these people, she thought, so oblivious to the truth. She understood now the phrase “ignorance is bliss.” The toughest decision most of these people were faced with in the past twenty-four hours was what to wear to this very function.

  Loki moved among the crowd with grace and ease. Many people called to him by name, while every other person in receipt of his attentions fawned under his gaze. His façade was flawless…except those eyes. Those dark orbs reflected cunning and cruelty, and when they located Lily, the gaze that followed chilled her blood. The ring hung like dead weight around her neck. She realized something as he crossed the room toward her. She was terrified. She had no idea how to proceed. The plan was all in Rowan’s head, and she wasn’t privy to that information.

  “You look stunning,” Loki said, and pulled her against him. Lily silently prayed he wouldn’t notice the ring as he tipped her chin up and brushed his lips over hers.

  “Thank you,” she replied, disentangling herself from his arms. “Excuse me. I have to go open the gallery.” She tried to smile at him, and had no idea if she succeeded. “We’ll talk in a minute, okay?” She turned away and raced toward the ribbon-wrapped doors leading to the exhibit. Loki fell into step several paces behind her and she tried not to focus on his overwhelming presence.

  As she turned to face the chattering crowd, a wave of panic crashed over her. She hated large groups. Loki watched her with an expression of amusement. She wanted to punch him.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Lily shouted, but only a few patrons even acknowledged her. “May I have your attention please!” she tried again, to no avail.

  A sharp, piercing whistle echoed through the building, immediately silencing the crowd. Everyone turned toward her, and Loki winked as he slipped his fingers from his mouth. “All yours,” he whispered.

  “Thanks,” she replied, and turned a smile toward the crowd. “Thank you all for coming,” she said, and prayed her voice remained steady. “The exhibit inside is truly a fascinating one. Spanning history, from the dawn of time through the present, the artifacts you will see tonight are of the highest quality and rarest form. Some of the items contained inside are even rumored to have been owned by gods themselves.” A chuckle rippled through the crowd. “This evening, and this wonderful feature would not be possible without the kindness and generosity of one of the Gallery’s most affluent benefactors, Mr. Loren Eshu.”

  The crowd clapped, though the sound reminded her more of boredom than gratitude. Loki smiled and waved his hand.

  “Thank you,” he said, and at the back of her consciousness, Lily felt the tug of his influence. “But I refuse to take the credit for this show. Four weeks ago, Miss Redway came into my home and faced an unbelievable challenge. The items in the room behind me were packed away in boxes, crammed in corners, and generally neglected. In a stunning display of concentration, talent, and intuition, she has, in just under a month, mind you, turned my haphazard collection of junk into a showcased display of history that any collector could be proud to call his own.” He curled one arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Thank you, Lily, for all of your hard work.” Bending at the waist, Loki pressed his lips to her cheek, and whispered in her ear. “If you try anything, you will be the villain in this room.”

  Lily swallowed, beat back the panic, and grinned broadly at him as he righted himself. “Now why would I do something like that?” she asked under her breath as the noise subsided. “Thank you,” she responded to the uneager applause. “As you move through the exhibit, please be sure to speak to the attendants. As interns, they…” she faltered as a new presence overtook her senses.

  Rowan.

  She felt him long before he entered the room, and found it hard not to physically react to his presence. He was calming and invigorating and reassuring and unbalancing all at the same time, and she had to shake herself to regain her train of thought.

  “I’m sorry,” she said with a nervous chuckle, “I wandered off there for a moment.” The crowd chuckled as well which, thankfully, put her at ease. “As I was saying, they have done the majority of the grunt work, and are eager to share their progress with you. They are extraordinary young men and women, and I could not have done it without them.” She picked up the over-sized scissors from the podium and turned to Loki, using the moment to gauge his reaction to Rowan’s presence.

  Loki had completely shut down. His dark eyes were cold and empty. No humanity remained in his demeanor, and when she pushed the scissors into his hand, he did not respond.

  “Take it,” she ordered. Only then did his gaze flicker to her. “Wait until they’re inside,” she added. Loki took the comical shears from her and, smoothing his features into the serene mask he’d worn earlier, turned to the doors.

  “It is with great pleasure that I present to you my personal collection: Shadows of History.” He slipped the blades over the ribbon and snipped it in two. Another round of applause, more enthusiastic this time, rose as he pushed open the doors and waved the patrons inside. In the rush he reached out and pulled Lily flush against his side. She squeaked in surprise, but managed to keep her smile painted across her lips.

  She dared a glance around, but Rowan was nowhere to be seen. He was still close; she could feel him out there.

  “Don’t try anything,” Loki snarled in her ear. Lily sighed.

  “I have an exhibit to run,” she snapped, and pulled loose from his grip. He allowed her to move, but caught her wrist and turned her back toward him.

  “Remember, girl, you came to me.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “If you get in my way, I will kill you too.”

  “Funny,” she mused, and smirked at him as she ripped loose from
his grasp, “I thought you were planning to do that anyway.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Loki was pissed off. Rowan had at least managed to accomplish that much by showing his face. Granted, such action could very well have put Lily in even more danger, but it had to be done. He only hoped Lily could run crowd control while he slipped Loki away and dispatched him.

  As the last of the patrons moved into the gallery and Lily with them, Rowan moved around the corner, slipping through the door just as it fell closed. His eyes widened of their own accord as he looked around the room. Lily wasn’t kidding; Loki had at least one of every weapon Rowan could name, and some he had never seen before.

  More than once he caught Lily’s gaze, followed immediately by a stern look from Loki, who was less than thrilled with his presence, and incapable of doing anything about it. Rowan tried not to feel smug, but it didn’t work. Despite the immediate danger, he enjoyed the hell out of the inconvenience his presence caused. It would work better if he could get to Lily, but he would be pushing his luck to try.

  An irrational snarl of fury tangled in his gut as he glanced down at the case containing his father’s journal. Writing he hadn’t seen in more than three centuries until the previous night, the last link to his parents and his past, lay beneath inch-thick glass, in the possession of a thieving god.

  As the crowd began to thin, leaving less and less distraction for Loki, Rowan slipped down the hallway and into the stairwell of the old building, Rowan stripped away his tuxedo, piece by piece. It would be a shame to destroy such a fine piece of tailoring, and while Dane might rake him across the coals for getting it dirty, at least it would still be in one piece. He shoved his clothes under the stairs, behind an old buffing machine, and took a moment to feel the cold air whispering around his ankles. The scents of food, perfume, and cigar smoke permeated the air, making it hard for him to pick out Loki’s specific scent.