Dark Deceit

by Lauren Dawes

  ‘And if I take longer than that?’

  Darrion approached the huge male, tilting his head back so he could still look him in the eye. ‘You know what happens.’

  * * *

  Korvain’s whole body was vibrating with anger. His hands had bunched into tight fists and he had wanted to drive his fingers into Darrion’s throat, but he held onto that anger, that raw energy. He knew better than to goad Darrion into anything more than a war of words.

  The tattoo on his back made sure he couldn’t cause any physical or mental harm to Darrion. He’d tried it once. It felt like ten thousand volts were travelling through his body while being hit by a freight train. So, yeah, he hadn’t done it since then.

  His whole life as a Walker was one brutal lesson after another, but lesson number one had always been the same: don’t get attached to the mark. If he saw them as a real person, things got complicated.

  They were not his friend. All he had to care about was figuring out a way to fulfill the contract and cover his exit. Kill them as quickly and discretely as possible and walk away to forget the gurgling last words, forget the desperate begging, the rage, the hate, the fear.

  ‘I’ll get it done,’ he replied when Darrion stared at him with his empty, cold, blue eyes. Eventually, his boss nodded curtly and faded from the garage. Korvain snarled at the empty space where Darrion had been and started pacing.

  ‘Fucking wannabe cocksucker,’ he growled under his breath. Korvain didn’t know what was stopping him from completing the job. Normally he would have done the necessary recon, figured out a plan and executed it within a few days. That was why he was the best: he had the least emotional attachment to the mark. They were the object standing in the way of another sliver of time off his contract.

  ‘She’s nothing,’ he spat. ‘She’s dead already. She just doesn’t know it,’ he added, pacing the blue mats, curling his hands into tight fists over and over again.

  ‘Korvain?’ a small voice asked from the side door. He glanced up, finding Taer standing there, her small body trembling. He couldn’t blame her. Darrion was a scary motherfucker; cold, calculating, manipulative. It was also no secret that the bastard had had his eye on Tay ever since he’d found out she was Adrian’s sister.

  He slid his anger back into its box before he said a word to Taer. ‘What’s up, Little Fox?’ He watched as her whole body sagged against the frame of the door. She was training to be a Walker, but he knew the Final Test would break her. She just didn’t have the will to survive like her brother did.

  There could only be one winner in that contest, and the fucker had to have nerves of steel and the ability to block all emotions out. By simply being female, Taer was already at a disadvantage.

  ‘I thought he was going to kill you.’

  He’d had exactly the same thought. ‘I’m still here,’ he rumbled, rubbing a hand through his short hair. His answer somehow gave her the courage to come a little further into the room.

  ‘I thought you were in trouble in here...’ she stammered, playing with the edge of her tee nervously, eyes downcast; eyes the same green as her brother’s.

  ‘Nah,’ he replied steadily. When it was obvious she wasn’t going to speak again, Korvain began picking up the equipment he and Adrian had been using to spar with: daggers of varying sizes, short swords, sticks.

  His mind was so busy on the task of cleaning up, and the decision to kill Bryn, that he was completely oblivious to the other person in the garage with him. He had no idea anything was different until the whisper of clothes against skin made Korvain spin around.

  Taer stood before him completely naked from the waist up. She had the body of a woman, all curves and grace. Her breasts were heavy, the areolae a dark dusty rose. Her stomach was flat and toned—evidence that training with Adrian had honed her body into a carefully crafted weapon.

  He took a step back, frowning, too shocked to form a coherent thought. ‘Taer, what are you—?’ Squeezing his eyes shut, Korvain was sure when he opened them he would find it all a dream. He cracked his lids. Nope.

  Still Taer.

  Still very naked.

  She glanced down, her cheeks flushing. One arm came across to cover her breasts. Her body trembled, her skin covered in goose bumps. ‘I don’t know what I’d do if you were killed, Korvain. I—’ she blinked up at him with doe-eyes.

  Korvain felt like he’d been slapped flat on his ass. He approached her in two large strides, picking up her shirt and holding it up against her naked upper body. ‘Taer, please cover yourself up.’ Gods, he couldn’t even look her directly in the eye.

  ‘I want—’ she began, but Korvain silenced her with his fingers gently touching her mouth.

  ‘You don’t know what you want, Tay.’

  Her pale eyes filled with tears. ‘But, I...I want you to know I care about you. A lot. And...’ she trailed off.

  ‘Tay,’ he said soothingly. ‘You don’t know what you ask.’

  She shook her head, dark hair like satin ribbons falling over her shoulders. ‘Please.’

  ‘Little Fox,’ he murmured, rubbing the tops of her arms.

  Her eyes snapped back to his, anger filling them with a black flame. She pulled away from him roughly. ‘Stop calling me that! I’m not a little girl anymore.’ She snatched her shirt off him, cradling it to her chest.

  ‘Okay. I’m sorry, Taer.’ Korvain put his hands up defensively. He was one of the best assassins in the world, yet a little girl had him cowering away in a corner. What. The. Fuck.

  ‘Taer, if Adrian saw you like this, he’d castrate me...for starters.’

  Their eyes met. She was trembling visibly, her mint-green eyes tearing once more. She turned her back to him and abruptly faded out of the garage. He knew about her little crush on him. He just had no idea how far the infatuation went.

  ‘Fuck me,’ Korvain breathed, dragging his palm across the back of his head. He looked around aimlessly. ‘Just...yeah...fuck me.’

  Chapter Ten

  Sometimes I hear Mother crying in her room at night. She won’t tell me the reason why.

  *

  Loki woke with the sun’s hot rays on his face. It burned liked fire ants were crawling all over his skin. Lifting his hand to brush the prickling sensation away, he was greeted with puffy skin and bloody fingertips. He winced when his fingers landed on one sensitive eye socket. Sitting up slowly, he squinted at his surroundings, taking stock of the situation. He was where he had been the night before, lying on a slab of pavement splattered in his own blood.

  Blood stained his mouth. He tasted it on the back of his tongue. He swallowed, trying to get rid of the metallic dryness when something small shifted around in his mouth. Loki spat into his hand and found a tooth, his tongue probing the space where it had once been.

  ‘Man, they got you good,’ someone said above his head. Loki looked up, shielding his face from the sun. Whoever this person was, they were standing just to the left of the warm disc hanging in the sky, blinding Loki temporarily.

  ‘Who are you?’ he demanded, instantly going on the defensive. He would not be tricked so easily again.

  ‘Me?’ the man asked, crouching down beside him. Loki smelled the man before he really saw him. He smelled of roasting pig, and when he got a good look at his face, Loki recognized him immediately.

  ‘You’re Andhr—’

  The man held his hand up, stopping Loki mid-word. ‘Don’t go by that name anymore,’ he said gruffly. ‘Call me Sooty.’ He eyed Loki’s bruised and beaten body in a detached sort of way. ‘And you got your ass handed to you last night.’

  Even though Loki didn’t understand the words, he understood the meaning. ‘Yes, I suppose I did.’ But he wouldn’t be making the same mistake twice.

  ‘Well, if the cops see you just hanging around on the street bleeding like you are, they’ll lock you up. So let’s get you out of here and cleaned up.’ Sooty offered Loki his palm. He stared at the offer for help and hesitated. Could
he trust this Aesirean?

  ‘Look, you can trust me,’ Sooty said seeing how he paused. Loki didn’t know whether he could or not. But what other choice did he have? He had been looking for other gods without results, and now a god had found him.

  In his previous life, Loki had been aware of Sooty and his role in Aesirean life, but had not once met him. He looked over at the male’s blond beard and wide-set green eyes. With a slow nod, he took the proffered hand and was hauled to his feet.

  As soon as he was vertical, Loki tried to put weight on his right leg, but winced. Sooty crouched down and inspected his ankle.

  ‘Could be broken. All you need is some time to recuperate. Think you can fade?’

  Loki nodded gingerly, discovering a new ache in his neck. ‘I think so, yes.’

  ‘Well, alright. Take my arm and I’ll show you where to go.’

  Loki put his hand on Sooty’s arm, closing his eyes as the vibration of a fade overtook his body. One second he was in a stinking alleyway and the next he was in a small, cramped apartment stinking of mildew. It wasn’t much of an improvement.

  ‘Are we still in St Louis?’ Loki asked, clutching the wall when the room wouldn’t stop spinning.

  ‘Whoa, why don’t you sit down for a second?’ Sooty had grabbed his arm and was directing him to an old green couch. He slouched into the worn cushions and stared up at the other god.

  Loki was vulnerable right now and he hated it. He needed to find out how much Sooty knew before he could rest.

  Loki licked his lips and looked Sooty in the eye. ‘Do you know who I am?’

  Sooty’s eyes skirted around the room before finally landing back on Loki. ‘Just some guy down on his luck?’ He made his answer into more of a question.

  Was he lying or telling the truth? ‘But you knew I was a god. How?’

  He shrugged his shoulders and sank down onto the coffee table opposite the couch. ‘How do humans recognize their own family members?’ he asked in reply. ‘I just did. Can’t you spot other gods?’

  He thought about that for a moment. ‘Yes, I suppose I can.’

  Sooty nodded and stood up, clapping his hands together then rubbing his palms nervously. ‘Are you hungry? I can make you something, or would you prefer to take a shower first?’

  Loki looked down at his blood-stained hands. ‘I would like to bathe then I’ll eat.’

  Sooty nodded; a jerky movement. ‘No problem. I’ll show you where everything is.’

  Loki was led into a small, windowless bathroom. The shower stall backed onto the basin while a toilet sat opposite them both.

  ‘Here’s a fresh towel and some clothes to put on,’ Sooty said a moment later. Loki took the things from Sooty’s outstretched arms and shut the door.

  Resting against the lip of the basin, Loki disrobed. His ankle still hurt, and he couldn’t put any real weight on it yet. Stripping the bloody shirt Mike had given him from his body, he dumped it onto the floor beside him. He struggled to remove the pants, but managed. They, too, joined the shirt on the dark green tile.

  He hobbled the few steps to the shower and turned on the taps until hot water beat against the grimy floor. Loki stepped inside the cubicle and shut himself in with the steam.

  The blood that had been caked onto his face and body dissolved with the water, running pink down the drain at the bottom of the trough. His face was still tender to touch, so he washed it clean as gently as possible.

  When some of the aches from his body were gone, Loki dried himself, slid into the new clothes and left the bathroom. Sooty was at the stove cooking something that smelled suspiciously like stew. On the counter top, there was a fresh loaf of bread and a knife.

  Sooty’s head lifted when Loki entered the room. ‘Hungry?’ Sooty asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  He watched as the god pulled out two wooden bowls reminiscent of their previous lives and filled them with the thick stew. He placed one bowl in front of Loki where he sat at the small counter and fetched him a spoon to eat with.

  The rich food filled the gnawing hole in Loki’s stomach, helping him heal the injuries he had sustained from the night before. Loki was scraping at the bottom of the bowl when Sooty took it from him and ladled another spoonful into it.

  When he slid it back in front of him, he mumbled, ‘You need to eat more to heal yourself.’ Sooty cut a hunk of bread off for himself and dunked it into the stew.

  With the spoon poised in front of him, Loki looked at the other god. ‘Have you seen many others?’

  Sooty glanced up from his bowl. ‘Yeah, occasionally. Some of the Vanir live around here, but not many.’

  ‘Have you seen any other Aesir?’

  Sooty’s eyebrows rose. ‘Around here? No, not so much. That’s why I settled here.’

  The next question burned on the tip of Loki’s tongue, but he had to be very careful about how he asked it. ‘And what of Odin?’

  ‘Odin?’

  Loki nodded and forced his eyes back down on his bowl. Sooty remained quiet for a time before Loki heard him inhale deeply.

  ‘Odin is where he has always been.’

  ‘Which is?’ Loki nudged casually, spooning some more stew into his mouth, chewing, swallowing.

  ‘Boston. He’s in Boston, Massachusetts.’

  Loki let out a breath and sat back into the bar stool, his spoon abandoned in the bowl. ‘Is it far?’

  Sooty shrugged. ‘A bit over a thousand miles.’

  Loki’s mind churned over the new information quickly. He was only one thousand miles from Odin, but he needed to get to his Valkyries first. He raised his pale jade eyes to Sooty’s face. The other man was watching him with a fearful look in his eyes that hadn’t been there a few moments before.

  He knows who I am. Loki had to move quickly now.

  ‘Do his Valkyries still reside with him?’

  The other god dropped his spoon into his bowl of stew, splashing some of the contents out onto the counter top. He took a step back from the sinister look that was no doubt in Loki’s eyes.

  Loki’s eyes darted to the bread knife sitting between them just as Sooty’s did. Loki looked back at the other man before throwing his still-healing body over the counter top, toward the knife.

  His bowl went flying in one direction, hitting the ground and spitting bits of meat and vegetables everywhere. Sooty had done the same thing, but he was a fraction too slow because Loki’s fingers had just wrapped around the hilt.

  Sooty backed away from Loki; his hands up, his eyes like saucers. He walked around to the other side of the counter and approached Sooty in a stalking gait.

  ‘Tell me about the Valkyries,’ he hissed, thrusting the knife into Sooty’s fearful face.

  Sooty’s eyes remained on the blade now perilously close to his eyeball. ‘I swear, I don’t know about them.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’ Loki pressed the tip into the skin just below Sooty’s right eye and applied the slightest amount of pressure.

  ‘Okay!’ he screamed. ‘Okay,’ he repeated quietly, defeated.

  Loki growled. ‘Start talking.’

  Sooty’s face drained of color, but his gums began flapping. ‘The Valkyries split from him.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I h-h-heard rumors it was right after the Fall and others saying it was more recent than that—a hundred years or less.’

  ‘And where do they reside?’

  ‘Boston, I think.’

  Loki could feel the satisfied smile pulling on his lips. Odin had done half his work already. He had been wondering how to approach the Valkyries without him knowing, but the arrogant asshole had already alienated them.

  His pale eyes fixed on Sooty’s face once more and he smiled. ‘Thank you.’ He pulled the knife away from his eye and settled it near his hip instead.

  The other god looked relieved for a second right before Loki sank the blade into his belly. Sooty cried out in pain, dropping to the floor with both hands pressed
to the wound, the knife still protruding from his belly.

  Getting down onto his knees, Loki took the hilt into his hand again and repositioned it under Sooty’s ribcage. The god cried out again, but didn’t fight against it. With a push, Loki thrust and twisted the blade upwards through the god’s heart, killing him.

  Loki got off his knees unsteadily—Sooty’s blood staining his hand—and looked around the apartment. He had eaten his fill, but still required more suitable clothing than what Sooty had provided for him. After dressing in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, he took the god’s wallet and coat from the rack near the door and began fading—hopping from state to state until he reached Boston.

  When Loki arrived in the city of Boston, the thrum he associated with Odin had lessened. Perhaps it was because he was now in the heart of his territory, or perhaps it was because so many others from the Nine Worlds seemed to reside in the city, too. Whatever the reason, the vibration was weaker—diluted somehow.

  Still disoriented by the new world he was now a part of, he found himself sitting in the shadows of a tree in a small cemetery in the center of the city. For some reason, he felt at peace there. The ancient headstones jutted out of the ground like the broken teeth of giants.

  He watched the humans walk by, going about their days, oblivious to him and everyone else around them. They held small phones to their ears, not speaking to the people who stood shoulder to shoulder with them. They were moving together as one, but disconnected from each other also. More than once he spotted a light elf towering above the crowd.

  As the day wore on and the number of humans dropped off, the vibration started to get a little stronger and Loki realized why Odin had chosen this city to make his home. The human’s energy along with the others seemed to distort his. When the temperature started to drop and he began shivering in the light jacket he’d taken from Sooty’s apartment, Loki decided to move on.

  Loki stretched out his legs, his knees popping in protest from being in the same position all day. He left the iron-hemmed area behind him, following the pull of Odin’s energy.

  When he passed by a large glass-fronted shop, his steps slowed, his eyes clamping onto something pinned to the other side of the glass. He leaned in closer for a second before entering the shop and tearing the piece of paper off the window.