by Lauren Dawes
‘Hey! You can’t—’
Loki growled at the woman behind the counter and left the shop, clutching the thin piece of parchment in his white-knuckled hands. It was a poster for a place called Odin’s Eye on Tremont Street. It could simply be a coincidence, but he doubted it. If someone had the gall to reference the All-Father then perhaps he had just found something that could lead him to Odin’s Valkyries.
Folding up the paper quickly, he stuffed it into his pocket and began making his way to the address. When he got there, he looked up at the unassuming building. He didn’t even know if this was the place. There was no sign on the outside. As his eyes looked over the façade, they paused just above the door.
On the lintel, carved into the stone work, was a small rune. Loki squinted at the symbol, realizing what it was, what it meant. This had to be the place.
He decided he would return later on in the evening and try to gain entry then. Turning around, he started walking, following the tug of Odin’s energy.
Loki crossed a large park still filled with people despite the drop in temperature, despite the setting sun. Around its fringes were vast buildings made from red-bricks and white stone. They rose to great heights above his head. Passing down one of the streets, he closed his eyes and drew on the link with his blood-brother.
He was still going in the right direction.
Opening his eyes once more, Loki continued crossing Branch Street, but paused at Chestnut. On the corner was a house which hummed with an energy similar to Odin’s. He took a few cautious steps closer, looking at the doorways, looking for a sign.
Above one, there was the same symbol of protection that had been on the club. His eyes ran over the building, looking for a way to gain entry. Just then the front door opened and a woman stepped out.
Loki pulled out the paper from his pocket, pretending to study it. The woman’s bi-colored blue eyes passed over his face without any recognition. Her pale hair was tied back from her face, exposing a tattoo on her neck that looked like a silver sword.
Valkyrie.
His body vibrated as he tried not to strike out there in the street. He would bide his time and come back for her. He only had one shot at it and he had to get it right.
Chapter Eleven
Odin heard the screech of a car alarm blaring into the night, jolting him from his sleep. He had been dreaming about that awful day, the day his grip on control had finally snapped. Shaking his head, he sat up. With his elbows on his knees, his head sank into his hands.
Disturbing dreams about his past haunted his sleep; thoughts about Bryn mostly. Thinking about the severance filled Odin’s heart with a hollow ache. After Kara’s banishment, he assumed Bryn would help the Valkyrie out and then return to him. Kara had needed to be punished, not Bryn, but somehow—inadvertently—that was exactly what he’d done.
Nearly one hundred years later, she was still as determined as ever to prove him wrong, to live her life away from him.
The alarm was still going. Pushing himself off the bed, Odin peered out of the window, frowning. As he looked, the lights flared and the horn stopped; the night returning to blissful silence.
Odin let the curtain slide from his fingers, blocking out the world once more. He needed to find a way to get Bryn back to him. He needed to protect her...
After watching Bryn’s father for two human years, Odin had seen Bryn grow into a beautiful young woman. She was almost fourteen now; her long blonde hair glossy with health, her blue eyes intelligent, yet playful. She wasn’t a little girl anymore.
Bryn came to see her father without fail whether it was raining, hailing or snowing. And her father was always happy to see her, still crushing her to his body when she flung herself at him.
One day, before Bryn had come to see her father, Odin let himself be seen by the humans. He walked the docks as he had always done, but this time, the humans noticed him—studying him with suspicion in their eyes.
‘Brander Gunnarsson,’ Odin said, reaching the male.
Bryn’s father looked up from his work, his blue eyes watchful. When he straightened up to his full height, he said, ‘Yes?’
‘I have come to make a deal with you.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘What kind of deal?’
No doubt he was thinking this was about his work. ‘Do you know who I am?’
Brander shook his head, his grip on the bone-handled knife he’d been using on the nets tightening.
Odin smirked at him, leaning in a little closer. ‘Take a guess.’
‘You only have one eye like the All-Father does, but you cannot be him.’
‘Why not?’
Brander laughed suddenly. ‘Because the All-Father does not stroll among us mortals for sport.’ He turned back to his work, dismissing Odin. ‘Leave me now. I have work to do and not enough sunlight to do it in.’
Odin paused momentarily before reaching out and taking the man’s shoulder. He let him feel the strength in his body, let him feel the current of electricity burning through his fingers. ‘I am who you believe me to be. I am Odin.’
Brander stumbled away from his words, looking over Odin with continued scepticism. The human studied him for a moment then reached for the stone pendant at his throat, clutching it. The pad of his thumb ran over the protective rune inscribed there.
Odin watched him slowly unravel. So many emotions passed over his face: disbelief, contemplation, confusion, conflict. The humans believed in the gods, but never expected to meet them.
Shakily, Brander reached out to a sack of grain piled up behind him and sat down, the knife slipping from his fingers and clattering to the wooden dock.
‘No...you can’t...’ Brander shook his head. His eyes were fixed on the ground. When his breathing had returned to normal, he looked up into Odin’s face. ‘Are you really him?’ he asked sincerely.
Odin nodded. ‘I am. Now, about that deal.’
‘I don’t know what a fisherman would have that you would desire, but you can have anything.’ He swallowed. ‘You are the All-Father.’
Such reverence he spoke with. Odin kept the delight from his face. Slowly, he said her name. ‘Brynhildr.’
Brander shook his head slowly, his pale eyebrows drawing together. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Your daughter. Brynhildr. I want her.’
In an instant, the veneration was gone. The human was suddenly shaking with anger. ‘You cannot have her. She is still a maiden.’ His rage spilled over; his veins bulged in his neck, his face turning scarlet. ‘Go and spread your seed elsewhere.’ The words were thrown at him, Odin’s wrath long forgotten.
Brander’s defiance angered Odin. Nobody said no to him. ‘I will have her Brander whether you agree or not. This was just a courtesy—a courtesy you do not deserve, but a courtesy all the same.’
‘She is not yet fifteen! What use do you have for her?’ he cried.
‘I will not take her yet. When she is eighteen I will return for her. She will not marry. You are to ensure she remains pure.’ Odin’s tone left no room for argument.
‘Wh-what are you going to do with her?’ he stammered, fear turning his sun-browned skin white.
Odin smiled. ‘I have special plans for her.’
Odin shook the memory from behind his eyes. He remembered that day so clearly, but had not thought about it for so long. He also remembered what happened when he had returned for her on the day of her eighteenth birthday.
The god lay back down on his bed and closed his eyes. Sleep was elusive, but eventually it came.
* * *
Loki pulled Sooty’s wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and flipped it open. Inside were lots of pieces of plastic; some with photos, some with numbers, some with strange little shiny pictures in the corner. He pulled out the one with Visa written on it, turned it over, studied it. This had to be the one that turned into money in stores.
Sleep had been tugging at him for hours now. He needed to bathe and eat and sleep. Walki
ng along the streets of Boston, he found a suitable inn and entered. He approached a long bank of counters, his eyes constantly scanning the interior of the building.
‘Good evening, sir. How can I help you?’ a woman asked him from behind one of the desks. Her black hair was coiled up on top of her head, her equally dark eyes smiling at him.
Loki approached her slowly, tentatively. ‘I wish to sleep,’ he said.
‘Of course, sir.’ She started tapping on the keyboard in front of her screen. ‘Is it just you?’
‘Yes.’
‘We have an executive room available. It’s one hundred and ninety-five dollars per night.’ She looked up at him and smiled. ‘Would you like to take it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Great.’ She pressed a few more keys. ‘How long are you intending to stay with us, sir?’
Loki didn’t know how long it would take to execute his plan. ‘A week.’
The human smiled again, her fingers tapping the keyboard quickly and efficiently. ‘I’ll just need some ID and a credit card.’
Loki pulled Sooty’s wallet from his pocket and took out his license and credit card. He handed it to the woman who frowned at the photo. Loki quickly changed his features enough to pass as Sooty, but not enough to be unrecognisable. It was a subtle shifting of features—changing the shape of his nose slightly, widening his eyes a little, making himself appear shorter when in fact it was all an allusion.
When the human looked up, she frowned again then looked down at the photo once more. ‘What brings you to Boston, Mr. Metzger?’
‘Business.’
She smiled and nodded before saying, ‘The card went through fine.’ She placed the license and credit card onto the counter alongside another set of plastic cards. ‘This is your room key. You are up on level six, room four.’
Loki pocketed all the plastic and turned to leave. ‘Mr Metzger? Do you need any help with your luggage?’ the human called out after him.
‘No...thank you,’ he replied, walking over to the bank of elevators and pushing the ‘up’ arrow. As the elevator took him up to his floor, his mind worked over the plan that had suddenly been put into play.
He knew the location of the first Valkyrie. He could find out where the rest were from her, and when the goddess wasn’t of use to him anymore, he would kill her, cut out her heart and ensure Odin found her.
Chapter Twelve
‘My brother, you awake?’ Adrian called through the door. Korvain rolled over, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Afternoon sun trickled in past the blinds, casting the room in a soft orange glow. Fuck. He’d slept away most of the day.
Pulling himself up onto this elbows, Korvain said, ‘Yeah.’ The sheets dragged down his naked chest with the movement, pooling at his hips. Adrian pushed open the door and stuck his head inside.
‘I just got a call from Bryn. She needs you tonight. Winta’s still a no-show.’
‘Yeah, alright. What time?’
‘An hour.’
Korvain nodded and fell back onto the mattress, throwing a forearm across his face. The door snicked shut, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Tonight could be the night he killed her.
Tonight could be the night he wiped ten years off his contract with Darrion.
That thought alone spurred him into action. He showered and got dressed, arming up and hiding the small arsenal on his body with carefully positioned shadows. He went downstairs to find Adrian biting into a sandwich over the sink. The other man glanced up and grinned, his mouth trying to make a word that came out garbled.
‘What?’
Adrian swallowed. ‘Sandwich?’
Korvain shook his head. ‘Nah, I’m good.’ He stood there for a minute. ‘I’m going to go early. I need to talk to Bryn.’
‘About a permanent job? I knew you fucking liked it there.’
Korvain smiled. ‘Yeah. Something like that.’
Taking the back door out of the kitchen, Korvain faded to the rear entrance of the club and pounded on the steel door. Half a minute later, it swung open, Korvain taking a few steps backwards to avoid being hit.
Bryn stood there staring at him. She was suspended between the jamb; one hand on each side of the frame. Today she was in a pair of tight jeans and another fitted tee. This time the logo of the bar was scrawled over her breasts. Korvain knew he was staring, but somehow he couldn’t stop himself.
‘I’m glad you came,’ she said, snapping him out of his stupor. His eyes climbed the rest of her body until they hit her face. He could have sworn her cheeks had colored. Before he could call her on it, she threw something in his face.
Korvain pulled the fabric away and looked at the shirt. It was identical to Bryn’s, just black instead of white and about ten times bigger. He brought his arms down and cocked a brow at her.
‘If you’re going to work here, you’ll have to look the part.’ She stepped back from the doorway. ‘Change room is there.’ She pointed down the hall about fifteen feet away. ‘Questions?’
‘Yeah, is anyone else here yet?’
She shook her head, her braid sliding against her back. ‘Not for another half an hour.’
Korvain watched as Bryn disappeared into her office. He could attempt to find her cloak now and kill her before the rest of security turned up, but half an hour wasn’t a lot of time to play with. Besides, he had no idea where her cloak was.
Deciding to wait, he pushed into the staff change room and dumped the shirt onto a long bench that sat in the middle of a room surrounded by lockers. Keeping his weapons shrouded in shadow, he stripped off the holster that held his Sig Saurs, the thigh holster for a blade and the garrotte wire.
He was dragging his shirt over his head when the door to the change room opened and closed with a soft click. With his back to whoever had just walked in, he quickly peeled his shirt off the rest of the way, dumped it on top of his weapons and turned around.
‘Nice tat. Does it mean anything?’ Kara stood in the doorway, her eyes at half-mast. She was in a silk robe the same shade as the turquoise ring of color in her eyes, and a pair of clear heels.
When she spoke, her eyes were fixed on his chest, absorbing every inch of his muscular body. Korvain felt the violation, but could do nothing to stop it.
‘No,’ he replied, hearing the hostile snarl in his voice. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you girls got dressed upstairs.’
‘We do, but I heard you were here early, so I thought I’d come and talk to you.’ The sound of her voice had desperation written all over it.
‘Talk about what?’ Korvain shoved his arms into the new shirt, irritated with Kara showing up like this. Surely his message that he wasn’t interested had been received loud and clear before.
‘Don’t feel like you have to cover up for my sake,’ she said in a slow drawl, her hand clutching at her throat, her pupils dilated. Korvain narrowed his eyes at her as she slunk her way toward him. Shaking his head, he slipped his head into the top of the shirt and pulled it down his torso.
The hungry look that shone in her face dimmed slightly at the brush off, but like the pro she was, she wasn’t ready to give up on her prize just yet. Her long fingernails were painted in a color complimenting her eyes, fluttering impatiently as she reached for him.
Korvain ground his teeth together at her intrusion. ‘What are you doing?’
Tilting her head back, she looked him in the eye. ‘I wanted to thank you for saving me from that man the other night.’
Korvain pulled her hands free from his body and put the bench between them. ‘You’re welcome.’
The Valkyrie pouted and sashayed in his direction again.
‘Kara—’ Before he could finish his sentence, the Valkyrie’s mouth was on his. Her tongue was pushing against his lips, trying to breach his teeth and enter his mouth. He growled and pulled away from her, ignoring the dark, hungry look in her eyes.
From the corner of his eye, Korvain realized the changing room
door was now open. He could see Bryn standing there, her mouth hanging open, her hand still on the handle as she took in the scene in front of her.
Fuck.
Korvain took a step back from Kara, his hands up in front of him.
‘I was wondering where you were. Now I see what held you up. I’ll, ah, leave you two to it.’ Bryn retreated from the room, the look on her face—annoyingly—made his chest hurt.
He rounded on Kara, trying his best to keep his anger in check. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ he snarled, his hands bunching into fists at his side.
Kara stared at him, a look of satisfaction in her dual-toned eyes. ‘I was thanking you.’
Korvain stared at her then at the door where Bryn had been. How much had she seen? Did she know that it was Kara who came onto him, or did she only see her mouth plastered onto his?
‘You’re wasting your time,’ Kara said, drawing his attention back to her. Her seductress face was gone; a scorned, pissed-off woman in its place.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Bryn. You’re wasting your time with her. She’s uptight. What you need is a sure thing.’
Unbelievably, she pressed her body against him again. Korvain growled, not bothering to muffle the sound this time. Kara had the good sense to pull away from his tightly-wound body, to step back. Self-preservation had finally kicked in. Thank the fucking gods.
‘Stay away from me, Kara,’ he hissed, scooping up his weapons that were wrapped in his shirt and shadows. He shouldered his way out of the room, the sound of Bryn’s office door slamming shut bringing his head around.
* * *
Bryn had heard everything Kara had said, and the words stung.
‘Stay away from me, Kara.’ Korvain’s words came out in an angry hiss. She turned and retreated to her office when she heard his angry footsteps stomping around, getting closer to the door. She had to disappear. He couldn’t see the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.
