by Lisa Oliver
“You’re right,” Lasse held out his hand for Jason, pulling him off the couch and into his arms. “The Fates wouldn’t be so cruel, which means somehow or other that little cutie with the shiny hair and the colorful jacket is perfect for you. You just have to find him first, so you can see that for yourself. If you’re up to it, come and visit us tomorrow, after lunch. We’re still in Greece.” He cast a hot look at his mate. “We’ve decided to live there until after the baby is born, at least.”
“Damn mates, fucking babies, tiny colorful people,” Thor muttered to himself as his friends disappeared. “I need to go and knock something down.” Pulling his hammer out of the ether, Thor also disappeared. Poseidon had been so busy with his kids and mate lately, he hadn’t set off an earthquake in months. Thor could take care of that for him. Now all he had to do was find somewhere completely uninhabited. It would take a lot of pounding with his hammer before he’d get any sleep and it wasn’t as though he wanted to hurt anybody. He just needed to release some tension. For some reason, his dick wasn’t interested in fucking anyone. Pounding a few rocks would have to do instead.
/~/~/~/~/
Orin hurried along the sidewalk, his jacket pulled tightly around him to ward off the night air. It was well after midnight, and he should have been home hours before. The last twenty-four hours had been a nightmare. After listening to Foggerty rant and rave for half an hour the evening before about the state of his clothes, and the reasons he needed to dress appropriately to be taken seriously, the man finally handed over the book. As soon as Orin touched it, he knew why Jack couldn’t decipher it. It had consumed his every waking thought since then.
A crash of thunder rolled across the skies, followed almost immediately by the bright flash of lightening. Orin walked faster. As much as he’d love to stick around and see what the god of storms had planned for the middle of the night, he was desperate to get home. The bag under his jacket glowed, reminding him he’d committed the biggest sin possible for an ancient languages translator.
Foggerty has no rights to the book. Orin tried to mentally justify his actions as he walked. He should never have been able to get his hands on it in the first place. How the book came into Foggerty’s possession was a complete mystery, but the slender handwritten volume was a threat to the world’s very existence. Which was why Orin was prepared to lose his job, or worse by removing it from the library.
It wasn’t a decision he made lightly. The first evening, he’d scanned through the contents, before locking it in the work safe, reluctant to leave it, but he felt he had no choice. Unable to sleep that night, Orin was back at the library just after dawn. He’d spent the day going over every ancient text he could remember, trying to source any reason why a book with that much power could’ve fallen into human hands. Maybe it formed part of a prophecy; maybe the Fates intended for the ancient gods to be known to the mortal world once more. But he’d found nothing like that – not even an obscure reference to such a thing.
Jack’s handling of the book, and Foggerty’s was proof enough something was stirring in the paranormal world. The book was warded, or rather it used to be, and nothing in the known world should have been able to break them. Orin could understand why a man like Foggerty wanted the book translated. The man had studied ancient texts his entire life but espoused the values of science. To Orin’s knowledge, Foggerty didn’t care about the wonders unleashed in ancient scribblings, and saw any translation as an academic exercise. Just goes to show how wrong I was about the foolish man. In one way it made sense. The quest for immortality stretched as far back as Gilgamesh and Foggerty wasn’t the first idiot academic who thought he could prolong his life with a spell or potion. He probably faced death every night when he looked in the mirror.
Foggerty had hit the jackpot. He just didn’t know it yet. The simple book contained all the information for a summons – but not a normal summons for something like a djinn, demon, or genie. Oh no. The book gave the holder the ability to summon any one of the ancient gods across every pantheon. It was a terrifying thought, one that could rock the entire foundation of the human world.
The moment Orin set foot into his apartment, locking the door firmly behind him, he went into protection mode. Placing his hands on the walls, he boosted his wards as strong as he was able, tapping into the latent power of the steel and iron that made up the building’s framework. Next, he created a giant sphere, made entirely of magic, spreading it wide until it infused the walls of the place he called home. In one respect, it was a silly thing to do because magic of that magnitude created a beacon effect for any other magic user in the area, but Orin was confident it would keep them out. Hopefully if anyone did notice the magic, they’d just think he was a super paranoid type.
Physically drained, because use of any magic demanded a price from the user, Orin slumped in his chair, clasping the book to his chest. He stared up at the big railway clock he had on his wall. 1:24. In less than eight hours, he’d be branded a thief. If he called in sick to work, Foggerty would know instantly he had taken the book, and why. Oh, Foggerty might not know the exact nature of the power held between the pages, but he knew it was important, which was why he’d gone against every policy in the library, trying to get the book translated.
Yep, I’m completely fucked. Even a man who insisted there was a scientific reason behind every occurrence in life and nature, would gladly trade his soul to speak to the gods he didn’t even believe in, especially if it prolonged his life. Orin did believe in them, and had studied all he could on them for more decades than he could count. To him, it was almost as though he knew them all personally and that was why he was going to do whatever he could to protect them, even if they never ever knew he existed. The gods were never meant to conform to mortal demands. To have the power of just one, fall into an angry, aging professor’s hands didn’t bear thinking about. If Foggerty knew he could control the gods, the ramifications for all living beings would be catastrophic. The Great War would seem like a picnic in comparison.
Chapter Four
It’d been four days since Thor had seen his little cutie dancing in the rain and aside from his visit with Lasse and Jason which did nothing to help his peace of mind, he’d spent most of his time watching out of his window. When the last of the commuters had gone home for the night on the fourth day, and before the evening dinner rush began, Thor decided the only way he might find out where the little cutie had gone was to do some old fashioned pavement pounding; with his boots, not his hammer. If Lasse was right, the man was lit up for Thor to find him, so it shouldn’t be too difficult.
It felt strange walking about on the streets he’d watched from his lofty apartment for so long. Guesstimating where he’d seen the little man days before, Thor stood and inhaled sharply pulling in the scents of the city, before starting to cough. Cities weren’t known for being sweet smelling. I should have brought Jason with me, he thought ruefully, or Sebastian’s mate Madison. But then he’d be open to ridicule and he wasn’t ready to face that just yet.
Yes, the almighty Thor had finally broken down and was actively searching for the one Lasse called his mate. Thor wasn’t sure he was ready to believe that just yet, but lord knows he’d had precious little sleep since that fateful day, and his father, Odin, frowned sharply on any beings who destroyed too much of the planet – no more earthquake setting for him for a while.
“If he was heading this way to work,” Thor mused, ignoring the startled glances thrown in his direction, “then logic says his home must be that way.” Of course, logic also noted that the man he saw might not even live in the area – he could be a tourist, but Thor was going with his gut and his gut said to head in the opposite direction to the way the man was headed the day Thor saw him.
With his dark gray coat billowing around his legs, people darted out of his way as Thor strode down the street. He barely noticed them. He wasn’t going to duck and dive around citizens who were too enamored with their own concerns and very
little else. In times of old, he would have ruled these streets, and everyone would have been bowing to him rather than giving him sideways glances. Thor was under no illusions about how he looked – taller than most, broader than many, the long blond hair billowing around his face and his leather coat made him stand out among the commuter crowd.
A flash of lightening lit up the night sky and Thor frowned. It wasn’t as if he was responsible for every storm that swept the earth – they did manifest naturally too – but lightening on a clear sky with no prelude of thunder wasn’t natural. The sky stayed lit up too – as if powers were at play. It was as if the Fates were saying – “get over there now” and Thor’s gut clenched as he broke into a run. He didn’t know how he knew, but every cell in his body told him that little cutie was in danger and it was up to him to save him. His boots pounding down the alley ways, he ignored the calls of a homeless drunk yelling “The end is coming.” Not on my watch, he thought.
Leaping over the alley wall, Thor could see the light show was emanating from the corner of an older three story apartment block. Wards, he thought watching the lights flicker. Someone is trying to break through some powerful wards. That made him stop for a minute. If it was a magic user fight, it really wasn’t his place to interfere. Most magic users were human, and the gods were forbidden centuries before to interfere in human affairs. But something was urging Thor forward and as if he needed any further verification his cutie was involved, a solid stream of light shone like an arrow into the apartment below.
“I get it, I get it,” Thor grumbled. With a quick check to make sure he wasn’t being observed, Thor disappeared from the alley and reappeared in chaos.
/~/~/~/~/
Orin had been dozing over his books when he was jolted awake by the alarm indicating someone was trying to breach his wards. Correction, someone was using powerful magic to try and batter them down.
“Orin, I know you’re in there. Give me back my book.”
Shit. Foggerty. Orin thought he had more time. He hadn’t gone into work the last two days and his phone had been curiously silent. His login for the library website hadn’t been revoked, and Orin had spent countless hours trying to find a way to hide the book permanently. Unfortunately, any references he could find to ‘hiding things from the mortal world’ involved a god and while the book he had allowed him to summon one, Orin wouldn’t do that. He hated the idea that any being could be summoned against their will, and he’d believed in the ancient gods for most of his life. To summon one was sacrilege to him.
The only other people who could possibly help were his extended family, but as some of his kind was responsible for the book’s existence in the first place, that was the last place Orin could go for help. His mother was the only one he had on the other side of his family and as she was dead, that was no help at all. “Damn it and fucktation,” he yelled as another blast of magic rocked his walls. “Leave me alone. I’m sick.”
Where did Foggerty get his damn magic from? The answers to that question would have to wait for another day. Foggerty was human through and through which meant he’d either taken lessons from the books he studied, or he’d brought someone along with him. Spell craft, Orin could counter easily enough, although it would wear him out. Another magic user was a trickier proposition. Orin shuddered as vine-like snakes slithered under his floors.
“You can’t win,” Foggerty cackled from the other side of the door. “I’ve got a dozen spells up my sleeve, all memorized with perfect precision. If you don’t come out, I’ll level this whole building and everyone in it.”
“How do you know I haven’t destroyed the book already?” Orin yelled back as he forced his magic through his feet. The vines died instantly but it was only a matter of time before Foggerty might make good his threat. “Some knowledge doesn’t belong in human hands. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Self-righteous upstart. I knew hiring you was a mistake.” Foggerty grunted and then yelled out in pain. Orin’s wards were holding but only just.
“I read the book.” Orin braced himself for another attack. His wall unit wobbled then crashed to the floor, barely missing him as he jumped to one side. It wasn’t as though his apartment was that big. “Where did you get it?” Yeah, like this situation was going to be like a movie where the villain gives off a long spiel that reveals all his secrets and his plans for world domination.
“You can read it?” The pressure in Orin’s head relaxed as the assault on the wards eased. “Let me in, let me in, quick. I might have been too hasty. Maybe we’ve got something to talk about after all.”
Not bloody likely. “The book’s nothing important,” Orin lowered his voice and crept closer to the door. “Honestly, it’s just a mass of quatrains extolling the virtues of the ancient gods you don’t even believe in. It’s fanciful, nothing more. I only took it because I wanted to read it in peace. I planned on taking it back, but then I realized I’d have been immediately fired when you knew it was missing. I don’t know why you’re attacking me like this. You could’ve just knocked on my door or called me.” Orin hated lying and crawling in equal amounts of passion, but he had to get Foggerty away from his door. With his energies going into protecting his wards, he didn’t have it in him to fight the man up close and inside the apartment was too close to the book.
“You scrawny little liar! I was told that book holds the power of the universe and its mine!”
See, that’s what you get for lying. Orin screamed as a sudden pressure in his head made him feel as though it was going to explode. The walls of his apartment flexed like something out of a matrix movie and he could feel his magic warp under the attack. Crockery clattered, some falling to the ground and his television fell like a stone complete with its wall bracket still attached. Dropping to the floor, his head cradled in his hands, Orin pushed back with everything he had. His soul screamed for help, but from who? The words from the book were there, right on the tip of his tongue, but he would not use them. He refused the hell that type of summons would cause.
Gathering the remaining tendrils of his magic to him, Orin clasped the book against his chest. If he was going to go the book was going with him. “Do your worst old man,” he screamed the last ounce of his defiance. He was fading – his magic was demanding its due. He would disappear in a puff of cosmic dust, and by the hell, he’d make sure the book suffered the same fate. “If you send me to hell, I’m taking the damn book with me.”
“Enough!” A roar sounded like the thunder heralding a storm and suddenly the pressure eased. Rolling onto his side, Orin managed to catch a glimpse of a huge man in a dark leather coat, his hair flying in the face of his fury.
What is my dream version of Thor doing in my living room? He didn’t have a chance to ask. Darkness swamped him, and Orin knew no more.
Chapter Five
Thor knew. There was no denying the cute blond whose life force was flickering in and out was the one the Norns or Fates picked to stay by his side forever more. And someone had brutally attacked him. Torn, Thor took a moment to place the tiny man on the couch – one of the few pieces of furniture still upright. “He is mine, father,” he muttered quietly. “Keep him safe from Freya’s clutches.” Hearing a brief flutter of wings, Thor knew Odin was nearby. Trusting his father to keep his mate whole, Thor crossed the room in two quick strides and flung open the door, prepared to meet any onslaught.
Well, that was interesting. The only person in the hall was an old human who stunk of magic. “You’ve been meddling with forces not your own.” Yes, his voice was loud, but Thor didn’t handle anger well. “Who are you and why have you attacked that innocent inside?”
“That’s no innocent,” the old man spat on the floor beside him. “He’s a common thief. I demand the return of my possession.”
“I don’t think you’re in a position to be demanding anything.” Thor tilted his head on one side as he considered the human. For a moment he thought the man could be an elaborate disgui
se perpetrated by his brother Loki, but if Loki wanted something he took it. “What is it you claim was stolen from you?”
“It was nothing really, just a book which has sentimental value to me. Orin wanted it for himself and stole it from the library. I’m just trying to get it back.”
Nothing about that sounded right. Thor thought for a moment. He’d been told in the past he made rash decisions, but with his mate involved he wanted to be sure he didn’t make one now. On the one hand, he did notice the book his sweet Orin had clasped to his chest. On the other hand, this human used enough magic to bring down a city block just to retrieve something of sentimental value. The decision was easy. “I don’t believe you and it’s never a good idea to lie to me. Piss off. Now.”
“Look. I don’t know who the hell you are, but this is a private matter between me and my employee.” The old man used the wall to get to his feet. “I demand you let me in there to retrieve my book.”
Thor folded his arms across his chest. “No.” If the man hadn’t been human, he’d already be dead, but Thor didn’t want to upset the Fates seeing as he hadn’t said a word to the cutie in the apartment yet. The Fates got pissy when paranormals or gods unnecessarily shortened someone’s life span.
“Is it money you want?” The old man waved his hand and muttered some words under his breath. A chest appeared filled with gold coins.
Thor leaned over and poked at the chest. His finger went right through it. “Interesting illusion, but no.”
“How did you…?” Flummoxed the man tried again. “I can give you anything your heart desires. Riches, women, castles in the sky. Whatever you want is yours, if you just let me have that one insignificant book.”
