Loki's Sin

by Saje Williams

  "I know she's beautiful. I've seen her pictures. You say she's been hurt, but what hurt her?"

  "That's her story to tell. Not mine.” It struck Loki that Fenris was infatuated with Athena, a woman he'd never met, who he knew only from news stories and pictures.

  "She didn't have something going with Deryk Shea, did she?"

  He'd heard the rumors as well as the real news, Loki realized. “No. If anything he was like a father to her."

  "Hmmm.” Fenris went silent again, staring out at the lonely stretch of road with an enigmatic expression.

  Poor kid. He has about as much chance with her as ... Then again, you never know. I don't think she has anything going with Thor. I know her and that cop are tight, but I don't think she swings that way either. And, if I'm any judge at all, she's as lonely as I was before I met—made—Renee.

  Maybe he does have a shot. One can never tell, I guess. I'm certainly no expert on women, Athena in particular.

  * * * *

  Fenris was similar to an immortal in most respects, the least of which wasn't his ability to go without sleep. He drove straight through, crossing Montana and the panhandle of Idaho before dawn the next day. They stopped in Spokane for a bite to eat and were back on the road within an hour. Less than four hours later they were descending the west slope of the Cascades.

  Loki pulled out his cell phone and called Athena.

  She didn't sound happy to hear from him. Or maybe she was, but wasn't happy with him in general. “Where are you?” she asked.

  "I'm on I-90, getting ready to turn onto 18,” he told her. “I should be in town within an hour or so."

  "Good. Renee arrived last night, with Hermes and the other prisoners. Where's the rest of your team?"

  "I wish I knew. We were separated early."

  "You sure they're all right?"

  "No, not really. I can only hope. We did work out a plan if we were separated. I'm just going to have to operate under the assumption that it's in effect."

  "I see. Well, we're getting geared up for tonight's event. Needless to say, I expect you and Renee to attend. I assume you have some good formal wear."

  "Not really, but I can get some. I'll be bringing an extra guest."

  "Oh? Who?"

  "You really don't want to know,” he answered. “Not yet. See you in a couple of hours.” He cut the connection.

  "Athena?” Fenris asked, glancing over.

  "Yeah. We need to make a couple stops before I head home to pick up my lady,” Loki told him. “Athena's got a big bash planned for tonight and we're supposed to be dressed up for it. If you're coming along—and I assume you are—you need to be dressed accordingly, too."

  "Sounds swell,” Fenris replied, clearly not meaning a word of it. “Why is it that the unspoken rule about family reunions happens to be that you usually find yourself wearing clothes you wouldn't be caught dead in?"

  "You're asking the wrong person,” Loki said with a smirk. “What would I know about family reunions?"

  "Good point.” Fenris turned his attention back to driving.

  * * * *

  Fenris really hated the mall. Loki wasn't really a fan either, but large crowds offered wonderful chances for a bit of mischief. Too bad he wasn't really in the mood for it. Fenris looked ready to shift shape and start biting people every time things got too crowded for him. Loki really hoped that wouldn't happen, but he figured the kid had to be living way out in the middle of nowhere for some reason. Disliking crowds and cities was a pretty good bet, considering he'd already commented on that.

  By the time they finished up and purchased the clothing they needed for the evening's festivities, Loki's nerves were jumping like water on a greasy griddle. One thing they didn't seem to need to worry about, thankfully, was a sudden goblin invasion. That had tapered off after Athena's confrontation with Kali. Loki knew few of the details, but he'd heard the meeting had went well.

  "Home, Jeeves,” Loki said, sliding into the seat next to Fenris.

  "And where is that?"

  "Cross the freeway and hit the Highway 16 junction—it's about half a mile up. Head west. Keep going until I tell you otherwise."

  "Simple enough,” Fenris grunted, starting the engine. “I hope you've got some food at your place. I'm getting hungry."

  He'd seen the boy eat. Since his natural humanoid form was somewhere around eight or nine feet—he didn't remember exactly, it having been several thousand years since he'd seen it, he realistically had a lot of bulk to support. And ate like it. “Hard to say,” he answered. “I haven't been shopping in a long time, and Renee doesn't need to eat. Not like we do, anyway. We should probably stop at a burger joint."

  "Just tell me where."

  * * * *

  Five miles and twenty-three cheeseburgers later, Fenris finally got around to placing his second hand on the wheel. The rattle of the SUV crossing the Narrows bridge pulled Loki from his thoughts. “Damn, Fenris. You were hungry."

  "Haven't eaten since Spokane. What did you expect?"

  Loki shook his head. He didn't know what he'd expected. Not to watch Fenris gobble down more cheeseburgers than any mortal alive, and more than most of the immortals he knew. The back seat was swimming in wrappers marked with the tell-tale golden arches.

  Fenris reached down, lifted his ultra-mega-sized drink cup and sucked down the last little bit before tossing the cup over his shoulder. “Wish they made bigger cups."

  "Yeah, those thirty-two ounce cups are pretty tiny,” Loki remarked dryly. “Take the first Gig Harbor exit and head North."

  "You got it. Can we—"

  "No. You can survive until we get home."

  "Fine."

  "Well, thirty-two ounces of a caffeine rich beverage is going to do that to you,” Loki chuckled. “Should've thought of that before you sucked it down like you were dying of thirst."

  "Loki—it's a little late to be playing ‘Dad', don't you think?"

  Was I? Problem was, he had no idea what a mortal ‘Dad’ would be like. He'd been chastising—teasing, really—and ... Oh. His memory skipped backward, farther than he'd chosen to go for a very long time, to a time when he'd been a mortal child. He'd had a father, once. Long ago. A soldier in an army that had known peace for several generations, but, beneath his rugged exterior, a gentle man with laughing eyes and a soft, playful touch.

  His father might have teased him like that. “Sorry, Fenris. You're right. I'm not very good at this, am I?"

  "No practice,” he muttered darkly. “It's okay, Father. You just needed a reminder."

  I guess I did.

  * * * *

  Thoth was standing in the driveway when they pulled up, wrapped in what had to be a dark blue silk suit worth several thousand dollars. The odd thing was that it actually seemed appropriate. He greeted Loki with surprising warmth and turned a calculating gaze on Fenris. “Who's this?"

  "Fenris—this is Thoth.” He made the introductions casually, while watching his old friend's reactions carefully.

  Thoth raised an eyebrow. “So there is a bit of truth to the old legend, eh?"

  "You've been reading up."

  "Seemed like a good idea. The weird thing about the myths and legends you folks have accumulated is that there's a grain of truth in a lot of them."

  Loki could only shrug. “That's what the mortals say."

  "Thoth? The Egyptian god of magic, right?” Fenris met Thoth's gaze squarely. “Any truth to that legend?"

  "Some,” was Thoth's reply. “I am—was—one of the few workers of magic left on this world. That's changed, thanks to Loki."

  Fenris looked askance at Loki, who didn't really feel like elaborating. “We don't have time for this,” he said. “We need to get cleaned up and dressed."

  Fenris took a look up at the house. “Nice. Bet this cost a pretty penny."

  "It did,” was all Loki had to say on the matter.

  Nineteen

  The stretch limo slowed to a crawl and pulled
up in front of the nightclub entrance. Before the driver could even crack his door, the car was swarmed by a horde of reporters. Athena, standing in the doorway, growled under her breath and marched out to deal with them. “Hey!” she bellowed, her voice like the boom of a cannon even amidst all the noise. “Enough! You're like a pack of rats swarming a dead cat."

  Thor, standing beside her, winced noticeably. “Oh—that'll earn you some fans."

  "I don't care. They're no better than a pack of rats,” she muttered back. “I have an area for interviews already set up inside,” she said loudly. “Which you all already know. Act civilized and we'll let you in the door. Keep this shit up and I'll leave you out here on the street."

  That sparked an angry murmur as the reporters drew back. “Way to go, Dale Carnegie,” Thor observed with a wolfish grin.

  "Sarcasm's bad for you,” she growled. He turned a puzzled look at her as she stepped forward to greet whoever happened to step out of the limo. The back door opened and a long leg, thick as a the trunk of a young oak, slid out, followed by a man who seemed to unfold forever. The hand that grasped the top of the door was dark—black, actually—adorned with several glittering silver rings. As the man stood she heard a collective gasp. He must have been almost eight feet tall, built like a professional wrestler, and wearing clothing that went out of style two centuries earlier. He turned eyes like chips of obsidian on the reporters, who seemed to draw back from his gaze. Hair the same color of his skin, black so dark it seemed to suck up all the light streaming in, hung straight and loose around his shoulders.

  "My god,” whispered Thor, who'd moved up behind her. “He's...” Words seemed to fail him.

  "Unearthly,” she supplied, feeling a chill settle in at the base of her spine.

  "Doesn't even look human,” Loki observed, suddenly appearing at her right elbow. He was dressed in an immaculate black silk suit with a pure white tie. Renee, standing only a few feet away, looked radiant in a deep forest green gown that seemed to swirl like a whirlpool around her ankles.

  The dark giant strode forward, cloak flapping around him like wings, and stopped a few feet in front of her. He leaned forward. “My mistress wishes me to warn you—greet her like an expected guest or the blood of these reporters will be spread from here to Seattle."

  Athena's jaw clenched and Thor stepped forward. She reached out an arm to restrain him. “I don't take well to threats,” she hissed, meeting the dark man's gaze head-on.

  The giant shrugged. “It's not a threat. It's a simple statement of fact."

  "Fact or not,” Loki said, from her side, “we're dangerous folks to cross."

  A glance over her shoulder revealed that Loki and Renee weren't alone. Behind them stood a pale blond giant nearly as large as the one who confronted her, watching the proceedings with cold cobalt blue eyes. He grinned at her, then shifted his gaze back to the dark giant.

  "We're attending whether you like it or not. The alternative is a bloodbath."

  The reporters, emboldened by the fact that no violence had yet broken out, began to creep up on their little cluster. Athena gave them her best steely-eyed glare, which stopped them in their tracks. She leaned very close to the giant and murmured, “Tell your mistress that if she starts any trouble, I'll have her head."

  He offered up the tiniest of bows and turned back toward the car. Athena watched, fists clenched at her sides, as Sif slowly slid out and brushed imaginary dirt from her chest. She wore a red velvet dress with a loose, scooped neck, revealing the cleavage of much larger breasts than Athena remembered. Glamour—not just for disguise anymore. Instant breast augmentation. She nearly snickered.

  "She should patent that,” Loki muttered in her ear. “Better than implants—and no surgical scars."

  "You'll have to teach me how to do that,” Renee commented wryly. “I could use a little padding up there."

  "Do they feel as real as they look?” This from the blond giant.

  "You can always give ‘em a squeeze and find out,” Loki snickered.

  Sif moved, as always, with a kind of athletic grace that suggested long practice with both dance and gymnastics, as well as more lethal arts. She pushed past the assembled reporters and joined her escort in front of Athena and her entourage.

  "Where's your cop bitch?” she asked Athena, after spending a moment sweeping the crowd with her gaze.

  Athena kept her face stony. “She'll be here."

  "Good,” Sif said simply. “May we pass?"

  "Sure,” Athena answered. “Why not? But be warned, Sif. If you cause any trouble here, you will pay."

  She laughed, almost merrily, not as if she disdained Athena's warning, but as if it actually pleased her to hear it. “I'd heard that you'd grown a backbone, Athena—I'm glad to see that the rumors were true."

  Athena felt the blood rush to her face and bit back an angry response. Won't do you any good, her inner voice warned. And probably hurt more than you think. She stepped aside and allowed Sif and her escort to pass. At the last moment, she reached out to grab his arm—it felt similar to grasping a bundle of steel cables the girth of a pony keg. “What is your name?” she asked him.

  His dark eyes shined with some fierce light as he looked down at her. “Xevon,” he replied, pure white teeth shining out of his night-black face. “My name is Xevon. Remember it, little immortal. Remember it well."

  He moved past, shrugging off her grasp as if it were nothing—a wisp of air easily dismissed. They turned as one and watched as the pair—one immensely tall, the other an elfin beauty—entered through the front door into the club.

  "Loki—you and your oversized friend there keep an eye on those two. I don't know what they're up to, but I'm willing to bet we're not going to like it."

  He nodded, motioning for his large comrade to follow. They passed through the door and quickly vanished from sight. “Who's the big guy?” she asked Renee.

  The vampire woman shrugged, then shook her head. “Loki didn't want me to tell you."

  "I don't give a shit what Loki wants, Renee. Or hadn't you noticed?"

  Torn between annoyance and amusement, the woman stared at her for a long moment. “He's Fenris Wolf, Loki's son—more or less."

  "Holy shit.” Athena conjured up the blond giant in her mind's eye, thoughts whirling like tiny dervishes within her skull. She remembered that he'd tried to create a hero to combat his monsters, and that he'd failed. Or said he failed. But apparently he'd lied.

  Like that's a surprise. Loki spreads lies like a knife spreads butter. Or he did. What about now? Renee changed him. Question is—how much?

  * * * *

  Ten minutes to midnight. Athena glanced up at the band, nodded to the slim dark vocalist, and they finished their song with a flourish. He snatched the mic off the stand and let out a reverberating howl. “The countdown starts now! Ten minutes until the ball drops!"

  A ragged cheer rose from the crowd. Athena shifted her gaze to her left, where the Police Chief stood with his wife, one arm around her waist, a tired smile plastered across his thick features. Mrs. Bolt was probably ten years younger than her husband, and a thousand times prettier—a trophy if she'd ever seen one. But something in the depths of her eyes told Athena that she was much more than she appeared.

  She met Athena's eyes and her own chocolate brown eyes seemed to twinkle. Athena graced her with a smile and climbed up onto the stage to be on hand for the announcements she had planned for the first few minutes after the ball dropped.

  Minutes ticked by slowly.

  The moment drew closer. The band played on. Howling guitar riffs overlaid scintillating keyboard flurries as voices began chanting in time with the clock slowly winding up to the midnight hour.

  "Ten!"

  "Nine!"

  "Eight!"

  "Seven!"

  "Six!"

  "Five!"

  "Four!"

  "Three!"

  "Two!"

  "One!"

  "HAPPY NEW YEAR
!!!"

  "Athena!” Sif's voice cut through the roar of the crowd like the edge of the sword she held as she ran toward the stage. She'd dumped her scarlet dress somewhere and now wore a tight black leather jumpsuit. A prodigious leap took her from the dance floor to the stage itself. Eyes turned to watch as she advanced on Athena, a broad grin creasing her face.

  She gave the singer a hard shove as she passed, hurling him into the crowd as the other players scrambled to clear the stage.

  Athena casually reached down and ripped off her dress, standing there in her underwear and little else as the small blond immortal stalked toward her. She fought back a surge of embarrassment as she considered the multitude of eyes upon her. There's a good reason I hate wearing that sort of shit.

  "Just can't help but be a bitch, can you, Sif?” Her voice carried well in the thickening silence as the feedback dropped away.

  "You would know,” Sif hissed in reply, her voice amplified by the mic lying at her feet. “All of this should be mine,” she snarled at the assembled crowd. Flash bulbs exploded in rapid succession, casting a strobe-like effect over the whole scene. “Me! Not this weak-willed, soft-headed milksop!"

  "Delusions of grandeur can get you killed,” Athena said, just loud enough to be heard over the whir of the cameras.

  Sif grinned. “Care to give it a try, wench?"

  "Wench?” Athena laughed, shaking her head. “I'll fight you, if that's what you want."

  "Really?” Sif looked amazed, then suddenly predatory. She gestured with her free hand and someone in the crowd screamed. Xevon, eyes full of black fire, shoved the police chief out of the way and snatched up his wife, pressing the edge of a long-bladed dagger against her slim white throat.

  Athena suppressed the knot of fear tying itself in her stomach. This had the potential to go very bad, very quickly. “Really. Just tell Xevon to let the woman go."

  Sif shook her head. “Nope. We're going to fight this out, but I don't want any stupid heroics from these dummies out here.” She pointed toward the crowd. “Anyone even twitches wrong, Xevon's going to separate her head from her neck.” She drew a finger across her throat meaningfully. “You know what that feels like, don't you?” She winked at her.