Son of Thunder (Heavenly War Series)

by S. C. Mitchell

  “I just hate cutting this off.” Meghan ran her fingers through his hair as she continued to snip strands. Jord felt the coolness on his neck.

  “I’m trying to remember the last time I had short hair.” He tried to keep the conversation light, anything to keep from thinking of her. “It was 1967 I think. I was living in Madison, Wisconsin, in the eighth or ninth year of my bachelor’s degree at the U.W. there.”

  He chuckled at the memory. “I wasn’t in a really big hurry to finish. I embraced the hippie movement, and never looked back. It reminded me so much of the Renaissance.”

  “Well, Renaissance man.” Meghan chuckled. “Your hippie days just ended.”

  She brushed off the back of his neck with a towel, and came around to look at him from the front.

  “Yeah, that’s a real change. Now for the color. You are about to become tall, dark, and boring.”

  As she worked the hair dye into his hair, Meghan kept up the light conversation. She was so easy to talk to. Jord found her intelligent grasp of so many different topics to be refreshing, fun. He realized just how much he enjoyed being with her. There was nothing sexual, nothing overt, just friendly, spirited conversation. Even those topics they disagreed on were kept light and friendly. Jord couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed himself so much just talking.

  “Okay.” She stepped back away from him. “Time to wash it out. Just shower and shampoo like you normally would, and then we’ll see what you look like.”

  Jord stood in the shower a long time, just letting the water cascade off of him, knowing if he got out he’d want to touch her. He’d want to hold her. This night would be agony. When he finally got out he pulled his jeans back on. Just wrapping a towel around wouldn’t be enough to keep his real feelings from showing.

  He ran a comb through his hair and looked at himself in the mirror. Short, wavy, black hair. Yes it would be enough, with the sunglasses. Tomorrow they’d make it to Nashville and put this all behind them, but he still had to face tonight.

  “Can I see.” Meghan knocked on the bathroom door. He opened it and faced her. She stood before him wrapped only in a towel, her hair also wrapped. The upper parts of her breasts drew his gaze. Her shapely legs exposed below the towel. His jeans could barely contain his reaction.

  “Oh!” She stood in the doorway just staring at him. “Wow, that is a change. I don’t think anyone will mistake you for that notorious kidnapper.”

  She grinned at him, those delicious lips just inches from his. How he wanted to taste them, just one more time.

  “I decided to color my hair too, just to be on the safe side. I need to jump in the shower to rinse it out. Are you done in here?”

  He saw her make her way to the shower, readying to drop the towel before she stepped in. It was so tempting, made him so hard. He needed to get out of there. In his mind he saw himself joining her in the shower, running his hands over those curves. What would she do if he did? How would she react after he’d spent so much time pushing her away? Would she accept him? Would she take him back? Would he doom her?

  It was wrong, selfish of him to think that way. Meghan deserved a full life. Something he couldn’t offer. All he could bring to the table was death. If she loved him it would kill her. Literally.

  He closed the door as he left, but the image remained in his mind. Taunting him. Torturing him. He sat on the bed and tried to get her out of his head. Tried to think of anything except her. He had to get control.

  Meghan stepped out of the shower, toweling her hair. She checked herself in the mirror. She barely recognized the woman staring back. Sure the hair was now black instead of brown, but it was more than that. The strain of the past few days was clearly showing. Lines of worry creased her forehead. But it was her eyes that struck her the most.

  She was tired, sad, overwhelmed. She felt fragile, vulnerable. The hardest part was just how alone she felt. And it showed in her eyes.

  Sure, she’d flirted with him a little, opening the bathroom door with just a towel on. Deep down she still wanted him to grab her, hold her. Strip her naked and take her right there on the bathroom floor.

  She accepted he didn’t love her. That it had never been in the cards. He’d said so right from the start. He couldn’t give her forever. But if tonight, just tonight, she could have his arms around her just one last time. Feel his warm breath on her skin, the way it had been before. Even if it was just sex, she wouldn’t feel so all alone.

  She hated feeling needy, but she hated the emptiness more. Was one more night too much to ask?

  She left the bathroom. Jord was already in the other bed, his back to her. She dropped the towel and stood, naked and vulnerable, hoping he’d at least look at her.

  “You know,” she slid into her bed, “there’s no reason we can’t sleep together tonight.”

  There it was. Blatant. An open invitation. Didn’t he even want to have sex with her anymore?

  “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” He never moved.

  Meghan sighed. She’d suspected, but now she knew. Not only was he rejecting her, but there was someone else. If another woman had entered Jord’s life, someone in his army no doubt, Jord would be faithful to that woman. It was the kind of guy he was.

  Meghan reached up and turned off the light. She wouldn’t weep, and feel sorry for herself. Someday there would be someone for her, she assured herself. As soon as this whole mess was over she’d go back to her life. Her old life. Her lonely life.

  Unbidden, her eyes filled with tears.

  Chapter 41

  In the morning Jord rose early, dressed quietly, and snuck outside before Meghan woke. He felt like a coward, but just couldn’t face her. If he saw her rising naked from bed, he would go to pieces. He needed to stay strong and continue to push her away from him, while keeping her as close as possible so he could protect her.

  What a mess it had all become, but with a little luck they would be back in Asgaard before evening. He’d turn Meghan over to his mom and dad so he could get back to the war. His parents could keep her safe at their home, and they should be back in Asgaard by now. Meghan told him they’d both been well when she’d left camp to look for him. Surely they would have taken what was left of the army to Asgaard after the fight.

  He had to get her there first, and to do that he needed to call in a favor. What would they say? It was a dangerous path, in any case, and Jord was sure he would need their help to make it. If they said no, where did he go from there?

  Storm clouds roiled in the pre-dawn sky and Jord had a feeling it had as much to do with his inner turmoil as the external elements. The hammer enhanced his natural weather abilities, but there was so much he had yet to learn about the weapon.

  Why had his father simply not taken back his gear when Jord found him in the cavern below Utgard? Even when his father borrowed the hammer from him that one time, to slaughter the goats for food, he’d acted like the artifacts belonged to Jord. He’d asked to ‘borrow’ them.

  The door opened behind him.

  “There you are.” He felt Meghan’s presence.

  He turned and saw her, mercifully dressed, standing in the doorway. Not that her being dressed lessened his desire for her by all that much, but it helped.

  “Just checking the weather.” Gods! That even sounded lame to him. Jord would know exactly what the weather conditions would be, even from inside. She had to know he was avoiding her.

  “Look, we need to talk.”

  In his over four hundred years of experience with women, that phrase was never a good sign of anything. Jord bit his lip to hold back a sigh. “There’s a restaurant across the street. Let’s get some breakfast.”

  The restaurant was almost empty. An older couple was at a booth just down from where Jord and Meghan were seated, and two men wer
e at the lunch counter. The television, mounted high where just about everyone could see it, was once again showing their pictures.

  The waitress was an older woman with a lot of attitude.

  “Poor girl.” The waitress refilled their coffee cups. “They say he’s a terrorist. Part of some kind of sleeper cell. Had a bomb planted at the airport. Thank God no one was hurt.”

  “Do they think he’s still in the area?” Jord asked her. Their disguises seemed to be working. He wasn’t even wearing his sunglasses.

  “Yeah, and he’d better watch it. He comes anywhere near here, I’d give him the what-for.” The woman shook her fist at the TV as she left.

  “Look, Jord.” Meghan‘s eyes looked tired. “I’m not doing you any good. I should go home, like we planned before. I can contact the police and try to clear all this up down here, so you can concentrate on getting back to Asgaard without the whole world chasing you.”

  Jord nodded. “On the surface, it would appear to be a sound plan. But we’re dealing with Loki here. We have to assume he’s very aware of the prophecy, and that you are at the center of it. He wants you Meghan, I just know it. He probably wants you more than he wants me. Separating us has got to be part of his plan.”

  Meghan lowered her eyes, staring down at the table. She’d barely touched her breakfast. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  Jord searched his soul for a good part of the morning. Was he really keeping her close to protect her? Or did he just want to keep her close, despite all the agony it was causing both of them? He only knew Loki by reputation, but it was quite a reputation. The evil god was ruthless, cunning, and intelligent. Yet Jord had to wonder if he could trust his own motivations when it came to Meghan.

  It was clear Loki was up to something. Why else would the evil god have expended so much effort here on Midgaard? Creating the illusions needed to fool the police and feed the press, had to have been a great effort on his part. And for what? The real war was in Asgaard, not here.

  There were too many unanswered questions, but one thing was clear. Jord couldn’t protect Meghan if he sent her away. Midgaard was no longer safe for her. He had to keep her with him, but at arm’s length. Getting to Asgaard, as soon as possible, was the best bet for both of them.

  “I have a friend in Nashville who can help get us back to Asgaard by a way Loki isn’t aware of. It should throw Loki completely off our trail but it will require taking a side trip to another plane, and there will be some danger, possibly a lot of danger. I still think it will be safer than staying here on Midgaard.”

  Jord looked at Meghan’s eyes. They were tired, sunken. Her incredible light was dimming, and it was as much his fault as the events she’d survived the past few days. He saw clearly the toll it was all taking on her. Her wonderful spirit was being crushed.

  “Okay.” Meghan sighed. “I’m in. What’s next?”

  Her eyes brightened for just a moment. The tenacity of this woman continued to amaze him.

  He got into the car wincing in pain. He healed fast, but he was still in a lot of pain from the beating Loki’s thugs had given him.

  Meghan must have seen him wince. “Still hurting?”

  “Just a bit,” Jord lied.

  Meghan smiled and shook her head. “It’s your own fault you know.”

  Jord pulled out of the hotel parking lot and onto the roadway. “How so?”

  “Well, if you gods hadn’t made us mere mortals so big and strong, those guys couldn’t have hurt you so bad.”

  Jord laughed, despite the fact it made his ribs hurt more where the thugs kicked him.

  “That’s a common misconception, you know, that the gods created mortals.”

  “They didn’t?”

  Jord began to relish the discussion he was about to have. It would be interesting to see someone as intelligent and insightful as Meghan, digest what he was about to tell her.

  “It’s the other way around. You mortals created the gods.”

  Mortals never figured it out, even after all these years.

  “That’s why there are so many pantheons of gods, but only one Midgaard, only one Earth they are all tied to. You guys just keep creating more gods.”

  In the silent moments that followed, Jord could almost hear the gears grinding in Meghan’s mind.

  “Come on, Jord. How can mere mortals create a god?”

  Jord settled in. He’d been afraid it would be a long, quiet drive to Nashville. This subject, with Meghan’s natural inquisitiveness, would keep them talking all the way to Music City.

  “All of the pantheons started out as just concepts in the mind of some mortal. He or she envisioned what they thought the heavens were like then they shared those visions with their friends. As the image grows clearer, and gains power from the shared belief, it becomes real.”

  Meghan cocked her head. He could see her trying to take it all in, but she didn’t say anything so he continued.

  “A tribe of Norsemen, some three thousand years ago, decided there was a white bearded old man, with one eye, sitting on a throne up in the clouds who would listen to their prayers. When enough of them believed it, there was Odin.”

  Meghan gasped. “Out of nothing?”

  “Out of the power of belief.” Jord had seen the incredible power of belief. “After Odin came into being he did have a little say in how the rest was ordered, though he still shakes his head at the story about the cow licking the ice.”

  Meghan shook her head. “It’s hard to believe we have that much power.”

  “It’s happening all the time. Mortals create gods in their own image or out of their wild imaginations, and just about the time we think we’re all settled and know our jobs, some faction will break off from the main believers and change everything around. Then they have to have a big war about it, where we stand back and wait to see what our new role will be in the pantheon.”

  Jord was getting into the discussion and the miles were flying by. “Look at the Greeks. Zeus had everything running fine until someone added in the Titans. I mean, what can you do with those guys. It’s no wonder he locked them away in Tartarus.”

  “Believe me. Trying to keep your believers in line can drive a god nuts. Things don’t really settle down until you become mythological. Then the gods get a little freedom to do what they want because no one really believes in them anymore.”

  “That’s when Mom and Dad decided to have me. I always kid my brothers and sister, saying I’m the only child they really wanted to have.”

  Jord could always get his brothers riled up at that, especially Magni.

  “So if I believed in a flying, spaghetti monster . . .”

  “Don’t even go there.” Jord laughed. Jord had met some of the crazy deities people dreamed up over the millennia. Those poor, almost powerless gods had never gotten enough followers to even start to get their pantheons off the ground.

  The drive went fast as they talked. Jord loved the way Meghan’s mind worked. She was inquisitive, and always open to new ideas.

  “So how did Mortals come to be?”

  Jord had been anticipating the question. “The gods don’t know for sure. You were here before any of us. Some of us believe there is a power out there, over all of us, who is responsible. Something even we can’t fathom the nature of, and probably aren’t supposed to.”

  “A power over the gods?”

  “That’s what I believe, anyway, but then again maybe I created it by believing in it.”

  “Okay, now you’re just being confusing on purpose.” Meghan laughed.

  Jord was surprised at how fast the time flew. They were already on the outskirts of Nashville. Now he had to hope his old friend was home, and that she’d help him.

  As Jord parked the car in the Centennial Park parking
lot, he already felt her presence. Well where else would she be? This was really all she had left.

  They’d gotten a really early start and arrived an hour before the museum opened. There was a chill in the air, but the sun was just starting to rise.

  Meghan shot Jord a questioning glance, as they exited the car. “The Parthenon?”

  Jord remembered how hard it had been to convince the city of Nashville to go with the Grecian theme for their state centennial. Had it really been over a hundred years ago? The restoration and upkeep had been a continual headache. At times Jord wondered if it was worth it. But the secret this place held was priceless.

  Despite being locked, Jord knew the door would open for him. It always had.

  Meghan, walking beside him, seemed to have some familiarity with the grounds. “I was here two years ago with a tour group. They have such an impressive collection. The Cowan works are superb.”

  Jord knew Meghan would appreciate the museum. He wished there was more time for her to look around, but time was not on their side. They would need to leave soon, one way or another.

  “Asgaardians are not welcome here!” The booming feminine voice filled the great hall. Jord made a slight bow toward the great statue that was the main attraction.

  “Athena.” He took off his sunglasses. “It’s me.”

  From the treasure room, behind the great statue, a woman appeared. Tall, stately and beautiful, the woman walked with absolute grace and serenity. The goddess Athena had not changed in the two hundred years Jord had known her.

  “Jord? I felt the presence of a Norseman but did not recognize you with the new hairstyle.”

  Jord smiled. Had his disguise even fooled a goddess?