Gods on Earth: Complete Series (Books 1-3): Paranormal Romances with Norse Gods, Tricksters, and Fated Mates

by Andrijeski, JC

  A hot, yellow sun beat from directly overhead.

  It felt almost like she’d been dropped into the middle of a desert.

  “My brother,” Thor prompted, when the soldier continued to stare at Silvia, his dark eyes wide, his mouth ajar as he gawked openly at her, focusing on her bare legs below the cut-off shorts, then her breasts through the white, filmy top she wore.

  Thor cleared his throat, a note of irritation in the sound.

  “My brother,” he repeated, colder. “Is he here?”

  The soldier jumped. His eyes shifted back to Thor.

  “Y-y-yes, sir. One moment. Apologies, sir.”

  Turning hastily, the Centurion disappeared through a much smaller, rounded door that stood to the right of those massive red doors that seemed to stretch up several stories.

  Silvia glanced at Thor, who still looked annoyed.

  He’d planted the handle of the double-bladed ax on the cobblestones, resting his hands on the gold top between the two blades. He scowled at the retreating back of the soldier, shifting his weight slightly from one foot to the other as he waited.

  Smiling a little, she nudged him with an arm.

  He looked at her in surprise.

  Then he grinned, nudging her back.

  She could tell he did it lightly, carefully, conscious of his own strength. Even so, given his size, he still nearly knocked her over, which made her burst out in a real laugh. Thor looked faintly concerned at first, almost guilty, but when she laughed, he laughed with her, grabbing her arm to pull her upright.

  Once he had her near enough, he kissed her, seemingly impulsively, on the mouth.

  Just then, the soldier reappeared.

  “He is here, sir,” the soldier said formally. “He would like to see you.”

  The Centurion didn’t even look at Silvia that time.

  His voice was all-business.

  “…Please follow me.”

  Silvia’s eyebrows rose, but she followed Thor’s prompting when he nudged her to walk ahead of him. The soldier led them through the smaller opening by the main door, which led to a short, stone passage through the thick wall.

  Silvia sucked in a soft breath when she reached the end of that tunnel, and found herself looking up at an even taller structure, this one made entirely of black rock.

  They crossed a small courtyard, heading for that featureless, cliff-like fortress.

  Then Silvia was following the soldier into a second tunnel. This one sloped down, taking them beneath the mountain-like mound of black rock.

  Thor walked beside her, still gripping his golden ax.

  Silvia had no idea how long they walked in that torch-lit passage, but it felt like they’d gone about a mile underground by the time they reached the end.

  When they did, it opened up suddenly and dramatically, and Silvia came to a dead stop, her eyes widening in shock as her gaze traveled around the cavern-like space.

  It was filled with gold.

  It didn’t just have a gold decorative theme, or a handful of objects inside that shone with real gold––pretty much everything she saw, even the walls, floor, and ceiling, appeared to be coated in the stuff. Winding trails snaked through the heaping objects around her, which in a few places had been piled all the way up to the ceiling.

  She stared around her in disbelief, noting gold, life-sized statues of people and animals, including a full-sized winged horse and a full-sized gold elephant. Gold weapons stood on gold racks. Gold coins filled gold basins and covered the gold floor. Gold frames held gold-tinted mirrors polished to a lustrous shine. Silvia saw gold lamps, gold bird cages, gold armor, dresses that looked to be made of woven gold, gold jewelry, gold bars stacked up to the ceiling, gold pipes, gold tables and chairs, gold paintings and jewelry.

  She felt like she’d walked into a dragon’s lair.

  It reminded her of the pirate ride at her favorite amusement park… only about a thousand times larger, and she’d be willing to bet the gold in here was real, not fake.

  She didn’t even see the man at first.

  Then Thor raised a hand, calling out to the other god.

  “Hello, brother,” he said. “Thank you for seeing me.”

  Silvia stood there, watching the two men embrace.

  “I brought you something,” Thor said once they parted, holding out the ax. “I thought you might like this. It’s good work… a gift from years ago. I was told it was forged in Vanaheim.” Winking at the man standing across from him, Thor joked, “Be careful. They say in the wrong hands, it can turn you into a womanizer and a derelict.”

  Silvia fought a smile, mostly because the man standing there looked about as far from a “derelict” as she could possibly imagine.

  Thor’s brother, Tyr, stood the height of Thor, but wasn’t quite as large. Instead of having the build of a weightlifter, like Thor, or the shoulders and arms of someone who wrestled bears for fun, Tyr’s shape looked more like that of a boxer or a football running-back.

  He aimed his dark eyes at Silvia in curiosity and she found herself briefly lost there, in the intensity of the god’s stare. Despite the darkness of those eyes, they burned with a strangely compelling fire, almost a hypnotic one.

  The longer she looked at him, the more she felt sure those eyes could hypnotize someone.

  Maybe even entire armies.

  Tyr looked away from her after a few beats, smiling at Thor’s words, but the overall impression Silvia got was of someone serious, intense, even a little intimidating.

  “Silvia Hope, come meet my brother,” Thor said, turning to her, his hand still on his brother’s shoulder.

  Tyr, who had been looking down at the ax Thor handed him, examining the carvings on it minutely, looked up, fixing his stare on her a second time.

  “Hello,” he said politely.

  In his mouth, the word was almost music.

  “Hi,” she said, smiling back. “Thank you for seeing us.”

  “Of course,” the god said.

  He continued to look at her, that curiosity growing prominent in his dark eyes. Then his smile widened, right before he aimed part of it at Thor, then back at her.

  “It is nice to meet you, Silvia Hope,” Tyr said next, his voice as melodious as before. He glanced at Thor a second time, lifting an eyebrow, amusement tugging at his lips.

  It struck her that Tyr’s lips and the shape of his mouth were the only parts of him that looked exactly like Thor’s physically.

  “My brother doesn’t usually bring companions with him to meet family,” he mused. “Whatever his excuse in doing so this time, I will assume, for that reason alone, it is an honor to make your acquaintance.”

  Thor snorted, rolling his eyes.

  “Stop flirting with her, brother,” Thor said, the words rumbling from his chest. “Half your guard was already undressing her with their eyes.”

  “She is quite attractive, brother. What did you expect?”

  “For you to keep your hands… and your comments… to yourself,” Thor said, chucking his brother on the shoulder.

  Despite his smile, Silvia heard a hint of seriousness in his words. Something about hearing that faint warning in Thor’s voice made her cheeks warm.

  Tyr appeared to see that, too.

  Then again, his dark eyes didn’t seem to miss much.

  “You are making your companion blush,” the God of War commented.

  Thor punched his brother again, harder that time, even as he smiled at Silvia.

  “Don’t be a dick, brother,” Thor said mildly.

  His blue eyes fixed on Silvia’s face, but he directed his words at Tyr.

  “We need your help, and we don’t have much time. I am worried our nephew, Jörmungandr, may have harmed her. He appears to have put the Andvaranaut in her, to keep it out of my hands… and I cannot figure out how to extract it.”

  Tyr frowned.

  Following his brother’s eyes to Silvia, he set down the golden ax, placing it carefully on t
op of a table also made of pure gold.

  “It is beautiful work, brother,” Tyr said absently, still focusing those intense dark eyes on Silvia. “Thank you for the gift.”

  “It is nothing,” Thor said, dismissive. “I will gift you a dozen more of my things if you will help her, brother. Can you? Have you seen such a thing before?”

  The dark-haired god walked closer to her, moving cautiously, almost as though he were asking permission to approach.

  In response, Silvia tilted her head back, showing him the pale green symbol burned into the skin of her neck.

  She saw Tyr’s eyes flinch, then widen when he saw it.

  He stepped even closer, then bent down, peering at the markings on her throat.

  For a long moment, none of them spoke.

  “What do you think?” Thor asked.

  Silvia couldn’t help noticing he sounded worried.

  Tyr stared at the circle of runes and the spiral pattern for a few seconds more without answering. Cautiously, he reached out, traced both patterns with his finger. Whatever he discovered doing that, it made him frown.

  He straightened, looking at Thor.

  “How long was this in her, before you brought her here?” he said.

  Thor looked at Silvia, who pursed her lips, trying to think.

  “Maybe a half-hour?” she said, cocking her head as she thought. “I think it was about that. But I blacked out… lost consciousness…” she added, at their puzzled looks. “It could have been longer than that. I don’t remember him leaving. He was just gone.”

  Tyr looked at Thor, frowning, then back at Silvia.

  “I suspect her being in Asgard has slowed the poison’s work,” the God of War pronounced, aiming his dark stare back at his brother.

  “…It will not stop it, however,” he cautioned. “Eventually, the ring will try to assimilate itself into her, and in the process, it will likely kill her.”

  There was another silence.

  Tyr stepped back, holding up his hands in a kind of thoughtful gesture.

  “I suspect Jörmungandr is not trying to kill her so much as wishing to make a deal with you, brother,” he said next. “I would wager he is waiting for you to approach him on her world. You will have to go back there, brother. I cannot take this out of her without him. I strongly suspect you cannot, either. He has buried it too deep. He has that strange, watery magic of his, the dragon’s magic… it is different than what either of us wield.”

  Thor nodded, but his expression hardened.

  Tyr hesitated, looking between them.

  “Well,” he said. “There is one thing, if you haven’t tried it already. If you were to lie together, if you were to share your god’s essence with her, it might––”

  “We tried that,” Thor cut in. “It didn’t work.”

  Thor looked at Silvia as he said it, and she swore she saw him color.

  It made her blink, then stare at him.

  “Ah.” Tyr nodded politely, keeping his eyes on Thor. “Then I strongly suspect you will need our nephew, Jörmungandr, to reverse what he has done. Which is very likely why he did this to her in the first place… to force you to come to terms. It appears blackmail is his game. Perhaps he will only parlay with you, and save your mortal’s life, if he is allowed to keep the ring in return. Or perhaps he wishes some other concession.”

  Thor’s face darkened.

  Silvia saw the fury building there, starting with a sparking intensity in his ice-blue eyes, an intensity that matched, then surpassed, his brother’s. Thor’s hands clenched into fists as Silvia watched, his perfect features growing taut, his mouth hard.

  Looking at him, Silvia found herself remembering he was a god.

  A pissed off god had to be something to see.

  Of course, she kind of wished it didn’t involve her probably dying.

  “I cannot let him keep the ring,” Thor growled, the fury spilling into his voice.

  “No,” Tyr agreed. He looked grimly back at Silvia. “No, brother. You cannot.”

  Thor’s voice hardened, growing colder still.

  “Is there something else our nephew wants? Anything I might tempt him with, to get him to release her, before I pummel his face with Mjölnir and my fists?”

  Tyr frowned, hands on his hips.

  He gazed up at his gold ceiling in thought.

  Lowering his eyes, looking out over his gold-filled room, the God of War’s expression remained taut as he seemed to be going over options in his head. In the end, he looked at Silvia, aiming his frown at the mark on her neck.

  “Have you asked Loki this question?” he queried finally.

  There was a silence.

  Then Thor let out a humorless, and semi-disbelieving grunt of a laugh.

  “No. Should I waste my time doing what will only bring more chaos and confusion into the situation, brother?” Thor’s voice lived somewhere between bitter and annoyed. “You know how Loki is. He is not only loyal to a fault to his offspring, he’d likely insert himself just for his own amusement. He would invent solutions only to worsen the situation. He would pretend insight only to watch his nephew screw with me, and further put her in jeopardy. In the end, she would likely be dead and I would be no closer to learning what it is Jörmungandr really wants.”

  Tyr nodded, obviously not disagreeing.

  After a moment, he sighed.

  “Then you may have to strike a bargain with Loki’s son,” Tyr said, his words carrying a heavier finality. “At least until you can free your companion. After that, it will be up to you to get the ring from him a second time. Or risk him harming her in some other way.”

  Pausing, Tyr added,

  “Remember, if you parlay with him over this, Jörmungandr will know you care about this mortal. He will know you care enough to go against your father’s orders, against the wishes of the Council, against your own vows. He will know you care enough to risk failing at your task, and allowing him to escape with the Andvaranaut.”

  Pausing, Tyr shrugged, holding up his hands.

  “Then again, he likely already knows this. He obviously chose her for a reason.”

  Thor looked at Silvia, and she looked back at him.

  She wondered if he was thinking what she was.

  Namely, how could the reptilian snake-god-nephew have possibly known something that hadn’t happened yet? Was he psychic? Did he see the future? She and Thor had only just met when Jörmungandr put the ring in her throat.

  Then she wondered why Thor was helping her, exactly.

  Was she really so special, like Tyr just implied, with the broken vows and disobeying his king and so forth? Or would Thor be helping anyone Jörmungandr threatened like this?

  Was it guilt?

  Did Thor feel bad, for dragging her into this?

  Because from Silvia’s point of view, she’d more or less dragged herself into this.

  “Do you think he plans to sell the ring?” Thor asked Tyr next, frowning. “Give it to another? He couldn’t possibly think he can hide from our father in the mortal worlds forever, even if he manages to blackmail me. How would he use the Andvaranaut to rule over the mortal realms? Does he have help, do you think?”

  Tyr seemed to think about this.

  After a long-feeling few seconds, he sighed.

  “I truly do not know,” he said. “When I look, I see nothing of his final plan. I see only war, and that is not uncommon when I look at the mortal realms. Whatever it is, it is far enough away yet that I cannot see specifics. I see only that our nephew is in the center of it.”

  Pausing, Tyr added,

  “Logic tells me you are right, however. He cannot keep the ring from you or father indefinitely. Therefore, logic dictates he would wish to use it in some way that will not require him to hold onto it long-term.”

  Thor nodded, his mouth pursed.

  Looking between them, Silvia found herself thinking that Thor, the Thunder God, and his brother, Tyr, the God of War, were in agreem
ent.

  She had no idea what that meant for her.

  All she knew was, she might die, if they didn’t get this magical immortality ring out of her neck. She might die if they didn’t go back to Earth and somehow find the snake-God.

  Then again, going back to Earth might also kill her.

  Or, from what Tyr said, it might just kill her faster.

  None of which was exactly reassuring.

  As far as developments went, in all the strangeness of the last day or two… this one kind of sucked.

  10

  Missing Person

  M orty shrieked when he saw her.

  Screamed really.

  Whatever the exact word for what he did, he did it really, really loudly.

  Staring at her, eyes wide, Morty kept screaming, long enough that she had time to really look at him, even to form an opinion about his emotional state. Under different circumstances, she might have assumed Morty’s scream was at least partly drama. She might have assumed he’d take the emotion and run with it, carrying it further than it really needed to go.

  In this case, however, she didn’t really think so.

  His face was chalk white, his eyes so wide, his facial expression looked painful.

  The look in his eyes, in those pale cheeks and lips was terror.

  It was genuine, one-hundred-percent terror.

  In the same elongated set of seconds, it hit Silvia that she’d had time to adjust to some pretty weird things over the last thirty-six or so hours. Not a lot of time, granted. Not even a particular reasonable amount of time. But it had apparently been enough time. The mind-blowingly good sex for hours on end definitely hadn’t hurt her adjustment process.

  The point is, she hadn’t freaked out.

  She’d had the bare minimum amount of time to accept and adjust to the fact that this was really happening––in part because she’d accepted that these things were actually happening.

  Morty hadn’t had any of those things.

  He hadn’t had time.

  He definitely hadn’t been forced to accept as many weird things.

  That night in their living room, Morty decided Thor wasn’t really Thor, God of Thunder, but Thor, fellow quirky San Franciscan, obvious eccentric, super-hot gym rat, occasional nudist. To Morty, Thor wasn’t that far off from other oddballs he’d met in the city, especially during open mic night at Lucille’s.