by Lisa Oliver
The man has a god complex. Interesting. Thor leaned on the doorframe, making sure his bulk was still blocking the man’s view of inside the apartment. “How is it you can get me these things? You don’t look like you can afford a new suit.” Lasse will be so proud of me – talking to this idjit instead of ripping the man’s head off with my bare hands.
“I know it would be hard for you to believe, but I have powers, special powers. I’m a professor, you know, specializing in ancient languages and antiquities. There are things you can only imagine written in books, powerful ancient books with words that can conjure your wildest dreams. I’ve read these books, absorbed their words, and in return they have granted me with everything a man could wish for.”
“Like using those powers to threaten the structure of this building and everyone in it? I don’t think the words in any ancient book intended that.” Thor was bored with the conversation already.
“Orin was being stubborn.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t know he had powers of his own, sneaky bastard.”
“I don’t know enough about the man to question his heritage,” Thor said, flexing his shoulder muscles. “I do know you’ve outstayed your welcome.” A finger flick and the annoying man was gone. Thor couldn’t hurt him, but there was something about the man that sent his spidey senses off the charts. A brief dip in the Harlem river wouldn’t do him much harm.
Checking the hallway to make sure no other intruders were lurking, Thor closed the door and surveyed the mess. “As you were,” he said flourishing his arms, as the room righted itself. “That looks a bit better.”
“Who are you?” The voice coming from the couch trembled. “How did you get in my apartment?”
“Oh good, you’re awake. I’m so glad my father didn’t take you. It would have been hell to get you back and he is known for liking pretty things.” Thor gave his best grin; the one guaranteed to have anyone within ten paces dropping their pants. “I’m Thor, Norse God of Storms. The Fates seem to think you’re perfect for me, but we’ll have to talk about that. I’m not sure you’re really suitable as a mate, given that I’m a god and all that and you’re…” he waved his hand, “…small in stature.” There. He could be polite when he had to be.
“Mate?” Orin’s face went deathly pale and Thor could have slapped himself.
“I’m sorry, forget I said that word. Forget I said anything at all. You must have hit your head. Damn it, I forgot humans seem to freak out about the idea of spending eternity with just one special person. No matter. Let’s try this again….”
“I’m not human.” Orin tilted his head and Thor could’ve sworn the light around him glowed brighter. “I’m not human and I know exactly what a fated mate is. I recognize the potential we have with each other, just as clearly as you do. But what makes you think it’s purely your decision if we claim each other or not? Don’t I have a say in this, seeing as you’re my forever too?”
Oops. Well, that’s an interesting concept.
/~/~/~/~/
Wow, he looks just like I’d always imagined he would. Shame he needs a personality transplant. Orin didn’t know anyone who could get through his wards, or who could just appear out of thin air in his apartment. Knowing the sexy hunk was a god was a small consolation. Orin never imagined his powers would keep out an ancient god, especially one he’d lusted after since he was old enough to wank. Unfortunately, instead of standing there and fueling all of Orin’s fantasies, the idiot had to go and open his mouth.
“Well?” he said when Thor just stood there with his mouth hanging open. “Cat got your tongue? Nope. I can still see it.”
Thor snapped his mouth shut and then he opened it again. Orin rubbed the spot between his eyes. He knew whatever was coming was going to make his headache worse. “You can’t refuse a god as a life partner. That’s just not possible. That’s like the sky suddenly turning green, or the sun refusing to shine.”
Patting the couch, Orin checked to make sure the precious book was in his grasp. Thor’s energies were refueling his magic supplies at a surprising rate. He really didn’t have time for this conversation, but then he’d brought it on himself. “I was simply pointing out something you neglected to consider. A true mating, one destined by the fates involves two people, or three or four, whatever, but each person in a fated mating has an equal say in the claiming process. Didn’t you know that?”
“Really?” Thor scratched his head. Orin was starting to think his mate was a few bites short of a sandwich, but all the reading he’d done over the years pointed to the god being extremely intelligent – some even said wise. Reckless, but wise. Maybe he’s only clueless on relationship matters.
“And so, it was said that those who walk the earth for generations, while those around them die, shall be blessed with those who will meet the needs of the other for all time, and the Fates deem they shall be perfect for each other and equal in all things. I imagine that includes the decision to claim each other in the first place.” Orin remembered the quote from the book he’d been reading before drama hit his life in the shape of yet another book.
“I knew it,” Thor groaned. “You read, don’t you? I bet you read all the time. Of course, you do. You were in the fight for your life over a damn book. What’s so special about that book anyway? I could see the magic flares from three blocks away.”
“It’s a book that should never have been written,” Orin said sadly, upset his so-called mate dismissed his life’s passion.
“What’s so special about it?” Thor stepped closer peering at the plain binding and lack of lettering on the cover. “It looks like an old notebook to me.”
“It is a notebook, it belonged to a distant uncle of mine from centuries ago. I’m surprised it’s still in one piece.” Orin looked up and met Thor’s gray eyes. “This is the only copy of the specific set of stanzas required to summon any one of the ancient gods. Still think it’s worthless now?”
“Holy fuck. Ordinary mortals could summon me to do their bidding with that thing?” Thor’s sudden weight on the couch almost caused Orin to topple over. “And it belonged to that old geezer in the hallway? No wonder he tried to bribe me with everything under the sun. Give it here. I’ll dispose of it.”
“Do you think I haven’t already thought about doing that? I’m probably one of the few people left in existence who can still read it. But from what I have read in it, the book itself can’t be destroyed. If you zap it, torch it, rip it up or drown it, it’ll just reappear somewhere else as though it’d never been touched. I think that’s how it ended up in this world in the first place.”
“Then I’ll take it to Bilskirnir in my region of Thrudheim. I’ll bury it there so no one will find it.”
“Until somebody does.” Orin couldn’t believe Thor couldn’t see the big picture. “I’ve spent decades reading about the great wars between gods. The feuding, fighting, fucking, and back-stabbing. This book summons any god simply by reciting a few words and calling their name. What if one of your relatives gets hold of it and decides to play nasty with one of the Greek gods, or the Roman ones. Then that side will retaliate and before you know it there will be another great war, one that could destroy the earth and all the beings who live here.”
“What are you, some kind of pacifist?” Thor made the last word sound like a curse. “Wars happen all the time. Gods are truly immortal. They can’t die. They just get roughed up a bit.”
“But people die, Thor, don’t you get that? And when they die they don’t come back.” The dull ache behind Orin’s eyes worsened. “There are almost one point seven million people in Manhattan alone. There’s seven point four billion people on this planet. None of them are immortal – well, less than one percent of the paranormal population are, but still. You gods go to war and don’t care about anything else. What about the people who lose their loved ones, their families torn apart, entire cultures lost, while you run around with your mighty hammer laughing your fool head off. This is a catastrophe
waiting to happen.” He held up the deceptively simple book.
There was a long silence – Orin rubbing his head, trying to alleviate his headache and Thor thinking whatever gods thought of. Maybe be was thinking about pizza toppings or something equally mundane. Orin didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure he cared. When he dreamed of meeting his forever he’d quietly hoped it would be someone larger than life, just like Thor. But in his head, his mate wanted and accepted him. Instead, he got…Thor.
Chapter Six
Thor would be the first to tell anyone he wasn’t one of life’s great thinkers. His father was the one who came across as deep and mysterious. Thor was more of a “what you see is what you get type.” Oh, he could think, and he did – sometimes – but he wasn’t the type to think long and hard about anything really. Driven by his passions, he believed actions spoke louder than words and while he’d dearly love to ease his mate’s headache with a resounding fuck, doing that would cement the claim between them. He wasn’t stupid enough to think either one of them were ready for that yet.
From first impressions, Orin was equally passionate, but he cared about books, history, and people. Hell, he’d damn near died expending his magic to protect one book and keep it from the clutches of a mad man. Admittedly, the book had more significance than Thor first thought, but still…it was a book. Thor really wasn’t a fan of the printed page. But he knew someone that was. “Artemas,” he said suddenly. “He’ll know what to do with a one-of-a-kind book.”
“Artemas, son of Poseidon Greek God of the Sea, Artemas?”
“Yes.” Oh, it was nice to talk to someone where he didn’t have to explain who his various friends were. “He’s the academic son. Lasse, another one of Poseidon’s son is my best friend. He can get us a meeting with Artemas, and Artemas will know how to hide the book, so no one will get their hands on it. You’ll like him. He spends all his time buried in books. He doesn’t know the definition of fun.”
“Not your type then?” Perhaps it wasn’t the best of times for Thor to be noticing how perfectly crafted Orin’s face was, or how sexy it was he could quirk one eyebrow.
“I don’t have a lot to do with him, but Lasse cares for him. Artemas practically raised Nereus and Lasse when they were growing up, but books and printed matter are his passions. He can be trusted.”
Orin sighed. “I need to eat and sleep first. If you say this Artemas can be trusted, then I’ll trust you. But can we leave it until morning? That is, if you’re sure Foggerty isn’t coming back anytime soon. Maybe you can come back and get me then.”
Foggerty? Must be the old guy. “I guess this Foggerty’s coming back will depend on whether or not he can swim. I dumped him in the Harlem river.”
“You did?” Orin chuckled, and it was like a chorus of bells playing a heavenly song. It’d been a long time since Thor had heard “pretty”. “Even so, I’d better not risk it. Can you find me again if I find somewhere else to stay the night?”
Thor wasn’t sure he wanted to take the risk. He might not be prepared to swear eternal love to the guy, but he was feeling overly protective and more alive than he had in eons. “I’ll do you one better,” he said, reaching over and touching Orin’s shoulder. Damn, he thought as he was swamped with lust not entirely his own. But he held on, and within a blink they were in his loft apartment. “That Foggerty person will never think of looking for you here.”
“This is…wow….” Orin ran to the very spot Thor had been standing in for days. “You can see so much from up here. It’s amazing.” As he turned, Thor was suddenly the recipient of a beaming smile with paranormal overtones that turned his cock to stone in the blink of an eye. “You must love it here.”
Thor eased off his coat and slung it over a nearby chair. It was suddenly very warm in his apartment. “It’s one of my many homes, but I do like the view from this one, yes.” He hitched his fingers in his pant’s pockets, knowing it would divert attention to his crotch and his prominent erection. “So, now you’re here, did you want to maybe help me with this?” He put on his famous leer.
Unfortunately, expending all that magic must have knocked something loose in his brain because Orin was proving immune to his charms. The slender arms across his chest weren’t the sign of a man eager to suck his dick. “You brought me here to fuck me? Is that it? We’re Fated Mates and you’ve already rejected me to my face, but now you’ve got a load of my considerable charms, or maybe you’re bored, so you want to spend time fucking me. And then what? You drop me off with Artemas and the only time I know you’re around from then on is when I hear thunder in the skies above me? I don’t think so, buddy. Do you have a spare room I can use?”
“There’s one down the end of the hall that Lasse and Jason use sometimes, but look….”
“Thank you, for your help this evening and for the use of the room. I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t worry about feeding me. I can conjure anything I need.” Thor’s jaw dropped open for the second time that night as Orin strode out of the room, his perfect ass twitching with anger instead of anticipation.
/~/~/~/~/
“Oh, my gods, oh my gods, oh my gods. The look on his face was priceless.” Orin found the room easily enough, although there wasn’t much in it. Giant floor to ceiling windows, which seemed to be Thor’s theme, and a bed big enough to sleep six. Curled up on said bed, his body shaking with nervous laughter, Orin struggled to pull himself together. When Thor turned on the charm, Orin’s knees almost gave out and he knew if he hadn’t left the room, he would’ve climbed that man’s pole and sat on it. But then, thanks to his genetics, he’d be permanently mated, and it was that sobering thought that gave him the strength to leave the room.
“Eat,” he muttered to himself, sitting up. “I need to eat and build my strength up. Hmm, but first the book. I wonder….” Orin’s magic was no where near as strong as his uncle’s, but Foggerty and Jack were able to open the book, so the wards the book were originally gifted with were either broken, or at least dulled in some way. Clapping his hands around it, Orin thought small – super small – and to his surprise the book shrunk until it was no more than an inch square. Fashioning a cage necklace with a long chain, Orin popped the book inside and sealed the metal strands with his magic.
Slipping the necklace around his throat, Orin tucked the book under his shirt and then surveyed the bed. “A picnic, I think. There’s certainly enough room here for a spread,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “A bit of pate, some crusty bread, a few of my favorite cheeses.” He fluttered his fingers across the gleaming white duvet, his imagined feast spread before him. “Add in a spot of music,” another finger flick caused a stereo to appear on the bedside cabinet, “and maybe a mug of honey ale….” Orin grinned as one appeared in his hands. “It’s the little things that count,” he said happily as he took a welcome sip.
Humming along quietly to the music, Orin snacked on some of his favorite foods. The crusty loaf was half gone when he heard a rap on the bedroom door. “Come in,” he said, looking up, knowing it could only be Thor. He doubted an ancient god would let just anyone wander around his apartment. But to his surprise, another handsome and more kindly face appeared around the door.
“Hi, I’m Lasse, son of Poseidon. Any chance I can speak with you for a moment?”
Orin’s hand itched to protect the book, but he kept a grim hold on the slice of bread he was smearing with pate. “Sure. Come in. My name’s Orin. I hope you’ll excuse me eating while we talk. I can’t remember the last time I had a meal.”
“You’ve got a nice set up here,” Lasse came in and perched on the edge of the bed. “Would you like to try some salmon with that?” He held out a small glass jar with the Harrods’ label on it.
Orin’s eyes widened at the friendly gesture. “Thank you. I’m happy to share my bread, if you’d like some.”
“I’ve been steering away from seafoods since my mate Jason got pregnant,” Lasse confided as he cut himself a large chunk of bread. “I
know I shouldn’t. I mean, I can sense immediately when fish is tainted, but I just don’t seem to be able to help myself. It’s all part of my bid to be as supportive as possible.” Lasse flashed him a killer grin. “This is a lovely treat.”
“Is this your first child, yours and Jason’s?” Orin was only being polite. He didn’t have a clue who Jason was, but Lasse looked as he’d imagined he would. The sea-blue eyes and wavy, untamed hair were a dead giveaway for the progeny from a god of the sea.
“Yes. He’s three months along – maybe four.” Lasse bit into the bread and groaned. “My word, this tastes good.”
“I’ve bet you’ve been reading baby books and pregnancy books, haven’t you?” Orin tried the salmon and suppressed a groan of his own. It was heavenly.
“Everything I can lay my hands on,” Lasse admitted. “Thor, Jason, my dad, everyone tells me not to worry, but….”
“It’s your first one.” Orin nodded to show he understood. “You probably need to remember though, that those books are written for human audiences. With Jason being the one pregnant, I don’t imagine he’s human.”
“He’s a sphinx shifter.” Lasse’s eyes sparkled when he spoke of his mate and Orin’s heart gave a little pang as he imagined Thor having a similar expression. Probably won’t see that in my life time. “His sister is the sphinx who guards the great pyramids, you know.”
“I didn’t know,” Orin laughed, “but thank you for telling me. I’ve dreamed and read about ancient gods and goddesses my entire life and in the space of one day, I’ve met two.”
“Ah, yes. That’s what I came to talk to you about.” Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Lasse gave a rueful grin. “I take it Thor put his foot in his mouth when you met.”
“What did he tell you?” Orin wasn’t sure if Thor mentioned the book or not and he didn’t want to bring it up unless Lasse said something first.
