Son of Thunder

by Libby Bishop

“And if he knows that one of his children is on a killing spree, and is helping to hide him…” She trailed off, but didn’t have to finish for him to know what she was thinking.

  Reign would go on a killing spree to keep that particular secret from Odin.

  “And now we’re hunting his son,” she added.

  The damage his brother could do to the loved ones in his life chilled his blood. If his brother wasn’t under close supervision—every minute of every day—Rune might return home and find more friends and loved ones slaughtered. Reign could cause severe chaos before their father or Thor found and stopped him—Rune could not bear the thought of it. Images of the carnage his brother had caused in the past, in and out of battle, flooded his mind, and the need to get home tripled.

  He tamped it down enough that it didn’t show on his face. Liv would know immediately that something was terribly wrong, and he couldn’t afford for her to question his motives now. Not when they were at the start of the hunt.

  “I’m not going to ask for details, if that’s why you’re so guarded.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “No?”

  She gave him a sad smile. “No. Not right now, anyway. I don’t need to know at this time, so you can keep hiding whatever you’re concealing about your brother.”

  He’d thought for sure she’d grill him, since it was Reign’s son they were chasing. Perhaps he’d underestimated her in some way?

  “If you ask me, considering the circumstances, you didn’t deserve to be banished from Asgard.” She sighed. “Which lends weight to my theory that Odin knows about our godkin.”

  He agreed, but he really wished he didn’t. Based on the facts laid before him, he had no choice but to accept that Odin knew of this godkin and had chosen to let the killing go unchecked. Looking out the window, he couldn’t help but wonder how many more was the All-Father allowing to run free of punishment?

  “What are you thinking?” she asked, a hint of concern in her tone. “You’ve gone awful quiet.”

  He sighed, looking over at her. “I quite agree that my punishment is unfair. What my brother did was far worse than the beating I gave him.”

  “And Odin?”

  “Odin doesn’t share his reasons, but I believe you’re right about him knowing. This is a betrayal I cannot forgive. Not with the lives taken, including the murder of my close friend.”

  “This close friend, was it a lover?”

  He glanced at her, but her eyes stayed on the road. “No, but she was… I suppose she was to me what Soosie was to you.”

  She didn’t reply, and he didn’t miss the brief pain that pinched the edges of her eyes.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, her voice soft. “If she was indeed your Soosie, then she took a piece of you with her into death.”

  “Yes, she did.”

  He’d refrained from asking before, but now might be the time. “Do you blame yourself for her death?”

  She was silent for so long he thought she wouldn’t answer. “Yes.”

  They fell into silence again, but he couldn’t regret the question. Knowing they shared a trauma, that they were connected in more than a sexual and professional way, somehow helped his own pain.

  “I blame myself for…my friend’s death as well,” he said.

  “You can’t say her name yet. That’s okay. I couldn’t say Soosie’s name out loud for weeks after her death. Saying her name made it more real.”

  His heart ached at the admission, one she did not have to give, but did simply because she knew what he was going through.

  “I’ve lost many in my life, but her death takes a toll I am unaccustomed to. Thank you for your words, Liv.”

  “Of course.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Something else is bothering you about this—I felt it in your silence, in the way you tensed when speaking of Odin. What is it?”

  He smiled to himself. She was certainly perceptive.

  “Rune?”

  “I was asking myself if there were other godkin that Odin has let run free. If that is the case…” He trailed off, trying to find the right wording. “Odin, and ninety-nine percent of the gods in Asgard, desire to stay on the good side of humans. If there are more young godkin being allowed to kill unchecked, then eventually humans will figure that out. One of them will slip up, one of them will kill the wrong person and cause a national uproar to hunt the killer down. And when that moment comes, when humans realize that godkin have been allowed to hunt them, relations between us will end. Instead of friends, we will become enemies.”

  “And I take it that the gods will lose something when that happens?”

  She had figured out something else connected humans and gods—he heard it in her matter-of-fact tone. But he couldn’t confirm it for her without repercussions from Odin.

  “Yes, we will.”

  “So gods do get something from staying in our good graces—the power from those who worship.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  She shrugged. “There are hundreds of myths and legends on Earth that state that a god’s power fades if humans stop worshipping him or her. Or, that the god loses power over the humans who don’t worship them. Don’t you know that?”

  “Yes,” he said carefully, waiting to see where she took the conversation.

  “Though everyone on this planet knows that gods and godkin exist, not all of us worship the ground you walk on.”

  He almost snorted at that last remark. She certainly didn’t worship the ground gods walked on, and he didn’t fault her that, as she’d seen exactly what his people and their offspring could do to the innocent.

  “I will concede that we indeed get something from keeping in your ‘good graces,’ but the connection is far more complicated and has many tangled webs. I do not have permission to share more with you.”

  “Without getting too in depth, what would the loss mean for the gods?”

  He thought a moment on the question, weighing his words. There would be enormous discord in Asgard if human worship turned to hate. “I will tell you this, no god in their right mind wants humans to turn their backs on us.”

  The one percent in Asgard who did, wanted it solely for the chance to swoop in and gather the power that Odin and those aligned with him would lose. And that would be the start of Ragnarok, which would be the fall not only of Earth, but also Asgard and the worlds connected to it.

  “I trust you on that, Viking.”

  Relief rocked through him. She may not trust him completely in personal matters, but at least she did when it came to the hunt.

  “We really need to find this godkin,” she said quietly, the bite gone from her tone. “Before his actions, before Odin’s actions, end up sparking the end of the damn world.”

  She must know something about Ragnarok. At least a dozen versions of Ragnarok and the end of the world existed on Earth, and in truth, there were many more variations on Asgard. All it would take was one wrong step, one decision by the wrong god—no matter the god who made it—and no one would be able to stop the end from coming. The threat always loomed in the back of the minds of the gods, and drove decisions. Some wanted it, most would do anything to avoid it, which made Odin’s actions regarding the godkin they were hunting all the more frustrating.

  They lapsed into a comfortable silence the rest of the way to the lake. He vowed to himself then and there that he would stand by Liv in this search, and not simply use her as a means to an end.

  “Here we are,” she said. “Welcome to beautiful Lake Memphremagog.”

  The tip of the lake caught his eye, and she was right—the mix of green trees and dark blue water certainly was beautiful. He rolled down his window and inhaled, smelling the fresh air. Early autumn visitors lined parts of the shoreline, and boats dotted the sparkling water.

  If those visitors were here to relax, they’d chosen the right place.

  Liv cleared her throat and nodded toward the lake. “That’s South Bay. Popular part of the lak
e. Would our godkin hunt in a crowded place? Or would he go for isolated?”

  “If he is like the rest of us, people-watching is a pastime he enjoys. He may not have stalked these people, but he would’ve stopped and watched them.”

  Humans fascinated the gods, and not just because they were important to the Asgardian race. Humankind tended to be quirky and amusing. Not that he’d tell her that—she’d probably shoot him for it.

  As the road ended, she parked the car, shutting it off. “Can you feel any trace of the godkin?”

  He unbuckled his seat belt and stepped out of the car. Opening up the power he still had was like the opening of a theater curtain, and revealing the stage to the audience. What he was looking for was the subtle vibrations in the air that would tell him if their killer had indeed been in the area. The vibrations resembled the color of white diamonds, glowing in the air, glittering for another god to see.

  After a few minutes of searching, he turned to her. She was standing just outside the car, leaning against the door. “There’s no trace of him here.”

  Disappointment swept her face. “Okay. Come on. We’re not too far away from the town we’re staying in. We can check into the hotel then head out again.”

  He gave her quick smile. “What? No sightseeing?”

  She returned that smile with a frown. “I’m not here to sightsee.”

  Apparently she wasn’t in the mood for teasing, and he couldn’t blame her. Six years of looking for her friend’s killer and her ally started teasing about sightseeing? Smooth one, idiot.

  She was silent for the rest of the ride. They arrived in the town of Newport not long after stopping by South Bay. The town was quaint, nestled around the lake, and their hotel was right on the water’s edge.

  When he stepped out of the car, he froze. The vibrations caught the corner of his eye, so light, and fading fast. “Stop.”

  He sensed her go on alert, ready to fight.

  “He’s been here recently. To this hotel. His energy is soft, so it wasn’t a long stay, but he was here.”

  Her gaze tracked the area, the wind blowing an errant strand of hair into her eyes. She tucked it behind her ear absently. “Let’s get inside and see if the clerk can help us with a name.”

  He hoped the clerk could, because the disappointment on her face earlier actually hurt him to witness. Connecting with her as hunting partners was natural since that’s what they both loved to do—hunt the bad guys. And he respected her strength, her fortitude, and her desire to make the world better for others, even when private pain gripped her so terribly. But the woman was harder to reach. They had great chemistry, but watching her track made him want to know her more deeply, more intimately than just through their bodies.

  But it wouldn’t be fair to ask her to open up about her personal life when he refused to speak of his.

  Nautical decor greeted them upon entering the hotel: a dark blue rug with gold anchors throughout it, white walls decorated with a large black and bronze compass… Yeah, he wasn’t impressed.

  When they reached the counter, he let Liv take the lead. She smiled at the clerk—a beautiful smile, full of light. It made him wish she would look at him like that.

  “Hi. I’m Liv Winter. I have a room reserved.”

  “Of course.” The middle-aged woman smiled back. “Let’s get you checked in.”

  “Before you do that…” Liv reached into her back pocket, taking out her badge, which he hadn’t realized she’d tucked away there. “I’m hoping you can help us with a case.”

  The woman—Gladys, her nametag read—looked slightly taken aback by the badge. “Oh my. How can I help you, Agent Winter?”

  “We’re looking for a man—probably in his late thirties, early forties. Recent information leads us to believe he’s been to your hotel.”

  “I see. How long ago would he have been here?”

  Rune stepped forward, next to Liv. “Not too long, maybe two weeks, three tops. And he would’ve been handsome, charming, very charismatic.”

  Gladys blushed.

  Oh yes, you know something.

  “Gladys?” Liv prompted.

  Gladys placed one hand on her flushed cheek. “Only one man has been through here with that description. His name was Erik… Hold on a moment, I’ll pull his information up on the computer.”

  Energy buzzed around Liv, yet she maintained a professional stance.

  “Here it is,” Gladys announced. “Erik Rutten. Stayed here for three days. I remember him saying that he was heading north, somewhere close to the border, I believe.”

  Having a direction would give them a head start.

  “I have a photocopy of his license if you’d like it? We require the ID.”

  Liv’s mouth parted slightly. “Yes, we would. Thank you.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  As Gladys stepped into an office, Liv turned to him.

  “I’m buzzing, aren’t I?” she asked.

  He grinned. “Yes, you are.”

  She laughed softly. “I’m trying not to.”

  “Well, I for one—” He stopped as Gladys returned.

  She handed Liv a paper. “Here you are, Agent Winters.”

  Looking at the paper, he saw a colored photo of Erik, and he looked almost exactly like Reign—same eyes, same hair, same magnetic smile. Rune didn’t share looks with his brother, save eye color and height. The more he stared at the picture, the more worry burrowed deep in his gut.

  What have you set upon this world, brother?

  “How long ago was he here?” Liv asked, breaking through his thoughts.

  “He checked out early last week.”

  To say that her body filled with the intensity of a predator on the trail of its prey was an understatement. She visibly tensed, her energy vibrating toward him. And unfortunately for him, the need to touch her was almost impossible to deny. But he held back.

  Liv shook the woman’s hand.

  “Thank you so much. I’m going to have to cancel our reservation.”

  “Is the young man in trouble?”

  “I’m sure everything is fine,” Liv lied. “I’m sorry about the reservation.”

  “No need to apologize, Agent Winter. I’ll keep the room open until tomorrow in case you end up needing it.”

  Liv smiled. “Thank you. Have a good day.”

  Following her outside, he couldn’t deny the need to touch any longer—between the worry over his brother’s involvement in hiding Erik, and his desire for Liv, the need was far too great. He reached out and wrapped his hand around her upper arm.

  She stopped, furrowing her brow at him. “What is it?”

  He stepped close to her, sliding a finger across her cheek. “I want you.”

  Her body stilled, desire flashing quickly in her gaze before she returned to her professional stance. But he didn’t miss the way her breath caught in her throat. He clenched his jaw, trying to tamp down his need.

  She cleared her throat. “We need to head north and catch this godkin.”

  He held onto her a few moments longer, pulling himself together. No easy feat, and from her regretful gaze, she wanted him just as much.

  Good.

  Walking to her side of the car, he opened the door. “Then let’s hunt.”

  Chapter Six

  Gods. What was he trying to do to her? Set her blood on fire in full view of the public?

  As she calmly pulled back onto the road, she collected her now-hot self and concentrated on what they were doing and where they were going. She was this close to finding Soosie’s killer—she wasn’t about to get momentarily distracted by a man, god or not. But it didn’t help that he practically radiated sex. It was almost electric, humming along her skin as she drove.

  But this time it was tied to the hunt. It excited him, obviously, and seeing her get excited about catching up with Soosie’s killer probably made it worse.

  Oh, who was she kidding? Her excitement made it worse.

&
nbsp; Shouldn’t have slept with him this morning, Liv. Should. Not. Have.

  No way would she have sex with him just because he was all hyped on the hunt, but it’d be hard. She snickered to herself. His energy vibrated along her skin, making it even more difficult to ignore her own desire. If he even brushed her side, she’d probably ignite into flames and let him take her. The memory of his thick cock filling her was like an echo—she could almost feel him sliding into her, inch by delicious inch. Gods, she was getting wet, and if she didn’t stop thinking about that morning she’d have to pull the car to the side of the road and let him take her in the cornfield.

  Concentrate on the hunt, Winter.

  “You’re going to have to be the bloodhound, Rune,” she said. “Once you catch his trail, keep me on track.”

  “Of course.”

  That hum along her skin sank deeper. She squirmed a bit in her seat as heat zoomed down beneath her panties. Hopefully it looked as if she were getting comfortable. Damn god. Stupid, sexy, stubborn god.

  “Keep going north, on this road. The receptionist was correct—he kept by the lake on his way toward the border.”

  Well, that was good news, indeed. But no way would this be an easy catch—Erik was a godkin, and something had helped him hide for six years, while he left a trail of murders that no one could link. She’d have to call the Boston FBI office and talk to her partner about the new developments.

  At least she’d already sent an email to Cory, letting him know she’d caught a lead on Soosie’s killer, and that she’d explain everything once she confirmed that she was truly on the trail. She hadn’t mentioned Rune, or that the possible suspect was a godkin. Those were details best told over the phone. Cory would have a fit when she told him the Son of Thunder had landed on her in the middle of the night then found out the elusive murderer was a godkin.

  Her partner was very protective of her, especially when it came to Soosie…and men. Her track record wasn’t great, and her trust issues were plentiful. It irked her that even while she was a competent FBI agent, she sucked when it came to finding a good man, one who wouldn’t lie, cheat, or break her heart. She wasn’t certain if she’d ever be able to give all of herself to a man again: her trust, her secrets, her heart and soul. With Rune, though, she felt a kinship with him, grown out of his own sense of loss.