Gears of Mischief (The Valhalla Mechanism Book 1)

by Kendra Moreno

  Loki turned, giving me his back, so all I could see was his vibrant red hair. His clothing was ripped, the once pristine coat hanging in tatters. His belt was missing, taken by the guards when they threw us in this hellhole. Loki’s shoulders were tense, so tense, I wondered if I could hear the snap of his bones from such tension.

  “Loki,” I whispered. “Who’s Fenrir?”

  He hesitated, and then looked over his shoulder and met my eyes. “Fenrir, he’s my son.”

  I stared at him with wide eyes. “You have children?”

  He grimaced, turning fully towards me. “I have. . .” he paused. “I had six, but those still alive are considered monsters. All are imprisoned in some way.” He turned his face towards the window, where another howl echoed. “Except, Fenrir just broke free.”

  I saw the pain in his eyes, saw how much agony it caused to lose his children, and he thought I would judge him for it? How could I judge someone who loved his children so thoroughly that he mourned their loss?

  “Loki,” I murmured, stepping close and taking his hands. His emerald eyes stared deeply into mine, studying my face. “I’m near certain you’ve been judged your whole lifetime as if you were some sort of a monster. But what makes a monster really? Is it appearances? Lack of compassion? I can tell you, you’re no monster, not compared to the kinds I have met, the sort I have killed. And if you are no monster, then your children are not monsters either.” I shrugged. “Misunderstood, perhaps, because others choose to judge them, but not monsters.”

  “That’s what I’ve always told him.” Thor spoke from behind me, his voice hollow, as if he was replying on autopilot.

  Loki’s face morphed from contemplation to a scowl. “You didn’t stop Odin from throwing my children in chains or banishing them to Hel!” Thor held up his hands at the outburst, showing he meant no harm, and Loki grimaced. “My apologies, Thor.” He took a deep breath. “I know that you could not outwardly challenge Odin, not without getting cast out, too.”

  Thor came around me then and clasped Loki’s shoulder. “It haunts me every day that there was not more I could do, Loki.”

  The God of Mischief nodded, his eyes looking anywhere but at me.

  “Odin sounds like a real wanker,” I pointed out, and a startled laugh slipped from Loki’s lips.

  “You have no idea.”

  I stared between them, waiting for them to come up with some sort of plan to get us out. I was the only one not in chains, but I didn’t have the brute strength or the magic to break free. And the keys were too far away. I moved over and tested the bars, annoyed that they were sturdy. I suppose if any cell would be better built, it would be the ones at Buckingham.

  “Can you not magic out of those?” I asked, touching my fingers to the manacles on Loki’s wrists. Unlike normal metal, they were hot enough to burn, and it was only then that I realized the rawness of Loki’s wrists. I glanced up at him, but he hardly seemed to notice, as if he was used to such pain.

  I had the insane urge to meet Odin face to face so I could give him a piece of my mind.

  Or beat him until he saw the error of his ways.

  Thor pulled at the manacles, a soft sizzle reaching my ears as he did, the metal burning his skin.

  Loki grumbled, “They took my belt.”

  “But you’re the God of Magic. Don’t you have your own inner magic besides what’s in your bottles?”

  “My magic must come from either life or death, a potent source of energy. I need to tap into it, and I must be there for the death.” He looked around at us. “There’s only one of us here that can die and I’m not sacrificing you to break a few chains.” He sighed. “I can skip that with my alchemy, but since I no longer have that option, well, here we are.”

  “Fenrir can break the walls when he gets here but he won’t be able to break the chains,” Thor pointed out. “We can’t very well continue our mission with our hands restrained in such a way. And I can’t with my legs.”

  I crossed my arms and looked expectantly at Loki. If someone would have told me I would have been stuck in a prison with two Gods over a week ago and still couldn’t escape, I would have laughed. Now here we were, in exactly that situation. “You have got to be jesting,” I grumbled. “Explain the potent source of energy bit.”

  My mischief God turned, leaning back against the wall even as the floor began to pitch again. Were there more cracks opening somewhere? Were they repeating all over the world?

  “Before I learned how to properly work with alchemy as a way to hold my magic and use it without draining myself, I had to take the energy I needed from other things.”

  “As in?”

  “I can gain energy by taking it from the living, or from giving birth to new life. There is always a price for magic, Tillie.”

  I tapped my lip and started to pace. “We can’t very well kill anyone,” I murmured. “And we certainly do not have nine months to wait for a birth. Can a plant work?” I asked, turning.

  “Yes, but nothing will grow in this winter.”

  I swore, because even without the cold, planting a seed would take too long, too. If we waited for a guard to come, we could kill him. If it was a necessary evil, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe the Queen would still hold our warning with merit.

  “There is. . .another way.” Loki’s voice was so soft, I was not sure if I heard him correctly the first time.

  “What?”

  “There’s another way,” he repeated louder but he didn’t elaborate, not right away.

  I floundered my arms just as Thor groaned, rolled his eyes, and took a seat on the wooden bench barely wide enough for his form.

  “Well,” I asked, confused. “What is it?” I swear if he said something insane, I was going to throttle him. How much madder could the world get?

  Loki straightened and met my eyes. “Magic demands a sacrifice, and there is one way to get it without killing or without new life.”

  “Spit it out, Loki, for the love of—”

  “La petite mort.”

  I was near certain my jaw hit the floor in my surprise as Thor puffed out a breath and watched me carefully. Loki did the same, his eyes on me, waiting to see what my reaction would be.

  “You can gain magic from sex?”

  “I can gain energy to be used for magic, yes, but it doesn’t have to be sex. The important part is that there are orgasms.” His eyes crinkled in amusement. “A few most likely. I’ll need a nice jolt of energy to break the chains.”

  “We’re in a prison.”

  Loki took a step forward. “And the guards have all gone to chase the crevice through the city.” He stepped closer, until we were a hair breath apart. His fingers reached down and cupped my chin, tilting my head back to meet his eyes. “Fenrir can get us out of this prison, little spy, but he can’t break these chains. I can. I just need a little energy. Besides, I don’t want Fenrir to exhaust himself right away, not after he’s broken his own chains.”

  “So which of you is having an orgasm?” I asked, deadpan.

  Loki grinned, even with all that had happened, even with the situation, mischief still took over. “Don’t be shy now, Tillie. You didn’t want to choose between us. What better introduction to that than for me to pleasure you while Thor watches, hm?”

  I flicked my eyes to Thor, noting that his were hooded. He seemed slightly annoyed, but there was excitement in his eyes, too. I couldn’t help feeling aroused at the thought, the action something I never considered. When I had suggested not choosing, I never expected to have opportunity with both Gods at the same time. It seemed wild, wanton, . . .

  . . .and if I was being honest with myself, it sounded wholly intriguing.

  What would it feel like to have Thor’s eyes on me with Loki kneeling between my thighs? What would happen if I invited them both?

  “I suppose that’s true.” I tilted my chin up to meet Loki’s eyes. “Alright, trickster,” I murmured, seeing the triumph light his eyes. “How m
any do you need?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  For a moment, Loki didn’t speak, either surprised that I would agree at all or considering the question carefully. I waited, and though I knew we were running out of time before the next stage hit, before Fenrir arrived, I let him think just a little longer.

  “I won’t know how many are necessary until I can feel the energy I draw from.” He tilted his head. “I assume two, perhaps, three.” The howl echoed again, louder this time, far louder. “We don’t have much time. Fenrir is getting closer.”

  I shifted nervously. “What do I do?”

  A grin so full of the mischief he was known for spread across his face and made my toes curl in my boots. That grin was a promise of pleasure, a tease, and everything that made Loki who he was. He began to circle around me, making me feel like a meal, and he was the shark that had scented my weakness. His fingers reached out, the chains jingling, as he ran them along my arm, across the back of my shoulders, my neck, anywhere he could touch, and I shivered at the contact. It wasn’t because I was cold. No, it was from the fire he coaxed. I nearly clenched my thighs together as he came around me again, his eyes alive with the very fire that ran through his veins.

  “I can already feel your energy,” he murmured. He glanced down at the manacles around his wrists, annoyance on his face for a moment at their confinement. “This isn’t how I imagined this going.”

  “I thought you said we were running out of time,” I growled, stepping close enough to thread my fingers into his hair and pull him down. “Quit wasting time, Loki.”

  I pressed my lips to his, if only to encourage him forward. Every howl that echoed was closer. I wasn’t sure how large Fenrir was but he sounded big, and I didn’t want to cause a hiccup in our plans because Loki thought I needed a soft and gentle entrance into this arrangement. I was no blushing virgin, had long ago thrown that society construct away, and so I took control, thankful that I, too, didn’t have chains wrapped around my wrists.

  I slid my other hand down his neck and beneath the edge of his shirt, feeling his warm skin, annoyed with the barrier. I knew this wasn’t sex, knew it was only so that Loki could magic us out of this prison, but I would still enjoy myself, at least. Even if I was tempted to offer more than simple orgasms.

  Loki broke the kiss and looped his chained arms over my head, reaching down to grab handfuls of my backside, grinding himself against me. He was aroused, his length pressing against his trousers, and I moaned at the contact.

  His lips nipped along my chin, down my neck, tracing close to the wound there without hurting me, pressing soft kisses there.

  “We will need to get creative,” Loki surmised. “This is going to move quickly, Tillie. Are you with me?”

  “Of course I bloody am,” I growled, tugging at his hair.

  With a spin, he removed his arms from around me and pressed me into the bars of the cell door, my spine touching the cold steel. Letting out a surprised squeak, I was unprepared for the God of Fire to kneel before me. I stared down at him in surprise when he hooked my leg over his shoulder before he took my weight entirely on his shoulders with no effort. Both legs off the ground, it threw my balance off and if not for the metal at my back that I clutched, I might have fallen. A God was between my thighs. I never thought that would be a sentence with truth. What has my life become?

  My eyes slammed into Thor’s where he sat on the bench, his length hard in his trousers, watching as Loki touched a finger to my undergarments and they melted away. His flames never once burned me but oh, how they made me burn.

  I speared my hands into his hair, clutching at him, as he hummed and pressed his lips to my core with no warning. There was no gentle learning. There was only Loki and his fire and the pleasure that immediately stirred low in my belly.

  I moaned, a whole host of curse words coming to mind that wouldn’t spill from my lips because of the pleasure. Loki’s tongue danced around my clit, pressing in just the right places, until I felt as if I was on the edge of something amazing. Not once, in all my years, had I felt an orgasm slam into me as quickly, and as thoroughly, as it did when Loki stroked a finger through my folds, his intent clear, but his tongue had already coaxed me high. I ground myself against his mouth, taking from him, as the waves crashed over me violently. I knew my fingers had to be punishing in his hair where I’d threaded them, but Loki didn’t complain.

  My eyes locked on Thor’s, prolonging my pleasure at the desire in his eyes. Every so often, I could see the smallest bolts of lightning dance along his skin, as if he couldn’t contain it.

  Loki’s horns burst to life, appeared between my thighs as he practically purred with whatever power he received from me, and when he looked up, his eyes were so vibrant, they were almost hard to look at.

  “Potent,” he growled, kissing the inside of my thigh. “But we need more, little spy.”

  “I’m glad to see your silver tongue is worth its weight in gold,” I snapped back as punishment for his nickname, curling a hand around his horn and stroking it for good measure.

  The God of Mischief nearly dropped me.

  Not that it would have hurt, but it amused me, nonetheless.

  He snarled up at me and dropped my thighs, my feet hitting the floor with a thump. There was no time to do more than grab the bars to prevent my shaking thighs from collapsing while the pleasure still coursed through me, but then, Loki didn’t leave me standing for long.

  Even with his wrists chained, Loki scooped beneath me and lifted, my arms going around his shoulders, attempting to make it easier on him with the chains. I never expected him to deposit me on Thor’s lap, onto Thor’s extremely hard lap. There was no more wasted time. The clock was ticking, and Fenrir drew closer. His howls vibrated the walls every so often, reminding us that we were still in trouble even during the brief interlude of pleasure.

  Thor’s arms looped around me, his fingers cupping my jaw and turning me sharply, almost violently, to claim my lips in a kiss meant to consume, while Loki draped my legs on either side of Thor’s thighs, spreading me wide on his lap. When Loki’s fingers stroked at my entrance, sliding through my wetness there and slipped inside, I nearly broke the kiss to look down at him, but Thor held me hostage.

  My arousal doubled at the control with which they stroked my body, at the lightning that suddenly began to dance along my skin. The climax crawled along my body, threatening to burst as Loki began to thrust his fingers inside of me, his thumb stroking my clit with each thrust, starting slow before moving faster, faster, until I couldn’t breathe, until I was grinding down as much as possible on his talented hands.

  Thor broke the kiss to rake his teeth down the side of my neck, away from my wound, to the sensitive flesh where my shoulder and neck met. He kissed there, driving me so high, I wasn’t sure if I would come crashing back down or simply fly away altogether.

  “How does it feel?” Thor growled in my ear. “To be at the mercy of Gods?”

  “Like a good time,” I panted, reaching up a hand behind my back to circle Thor’s neck and spearing the other into Loki’s hair where he kneeled in front of me, his eyes glowing with power as he watched me. He was glorious this way, in his element, so full of magic that I wanted to dance in it. It was easy to see why people would worship him, why they would leave offerings to this man.

  He was worth giving a little of yourself to.

  “Imagine what it will feel like with our cocks.”

  Thor’s dirty words should not have had the effect they did. I was already wound so tight, I could hardly breathe, but the moment those words danced along the shell of my ear, the moment one of his hands caressed my breast and pinched my nipple through my clothing, I shattered. I threw my head back and rode Loki’s fingers, my hands holding the two men to me tightly, as wave after wave slammed into me.

  “Again,” Loki growled, his voice so thick, he sounded more animalistic than human.

  I had just enough time to look down at him, to se
e a brilliant flash with black lines painted across his face, primal as his power flowed through and around him, before Thor allowed his lightning to truly touch me, tiny pleasurable shocks dancing along my flesh, throwing me on another cliff before I had even crashed down from the first one.

  This time, the swears I thought to keep back tumbled out, dirty, filthy words my mother would be ashamed had ever left my mouth, but when you were spread across one God’s lap while the other kneeled before you, there came a loss of senses.

  Loki’s fingers curled inside of me just as Thor sunk his teeth into the sensitive skin of my shoulder, and I broke apart so wide, I thought I must have been the next stage of Ragnarök. I saw stars; I was near certain my eyes rolled back in my head, as Thor’s lightning rode the wave still higher, prolonging the orgasm, until I was no longer sure if it was one long wave or a series of smaller ones riding each other’s coattails.

  “Was that enough?” I panted when I could move enough to glance down at Loki, and I startled in surprise.

  It seemed the more power Loki channeled, the more primal he appeared.

  The man once dressed as nothing more than an aristocrat still kneeled in front of me, but not once had he appeared as a God like he did then. With eyes suddenly rimmed with black kohl and glowing symbols floating over his skin, Loki was beautiful, in a chaotic sort of way. Green tendrils of power danced along his skin, along his suddenly shirtless shoulders, a chain of sharp teeth around his neck. The snake tattoo glowed golden, glittering, and if I stared long enough, it appeared to dance along his skin as if it were alive.

  And those horns, no longer phantoms but solid, golden appendages had me reaching out to stroke a finger down one before stroking down his face to where the scars around his lips now appeared in sharp relief.

  “Beautiful,” I murmured, caressing his scars.

  A wicked smile pulled at those lips, one I recognized before he stroked my core one last time and pulled his fingers away, bringing them to his lips instead. I watched in surprise as he snaked a tongue out to lick his fingers, as the tongue seemed suddenly too long to be natural. A shiver wracked my body at the sight of this powerful man in front of me, at the look in his eyes, as if he wished we had more time so he could consume me. Never in my lifetime had I wanted anything more.