Dark Deceit (7 page)

Loki shook his head.

Mike motioned to remove his hat, remembered he wasn’t wearing one
anymore, and dropped his hand. ‘The police station won’t be open right now, and
if you don’t have anywhere to go, I won’t turn you out. You can stay here
tonight with us then tomorrow, I can drop you off at the police station in
Carlsbad. The folks there will be able to help you out.’

Loki nodded. ‘Thank you.’

‘Mike?’ Nancy called from the other room. Mike looked over his
shoulder then excused himself with a smile. Loki was left alone and his stomach
twisted into a tight knot of anxiety. He had been alone for far too long
already. To take his mind off the gnawing sensation, he wandered around the
room looking at the photographs and trinkets lining the shelves of a bookcase.

When Mike reappeared, Loki was sitting in one of the armchairs
facing the television. He had been watching the news, learning about stories
like the current government and war. He guessed not everything had changed
then.

‘Here’s your coffee, Loki.’ Mike handed him a white mug. Loki peered
over the rim, seeing his haggard reflection in the dark liquid. He knew all
about coffee. He just had no idea what it tasted like. Bringing the mug to his
lips, he took a shallow sip and forced himself to swallow it down.

Mike laughed, taking the mug from Loki’s hand. ‘If you don’t like
it, don’t drink it,’ he said. ‘Nancy isn’t well known for her ability to make a
decent cup.’

‘I heard that!’ Nancy yelled from the kitchen. She sounded upset,
but Mike was still grinning at him.

Loki and Mike watched the rest of the news in silence, although the
human made some strange noises while watching a story about a football team.

‘That’s my team,’ Mike announced proudly. ‘Cardinals, all the way.
You got a favorite team?’

Loki shook his head, but before Mike could say anything more, Nancy
walked into the room, a dish towel in her hand. ‘Stop trying to convert him,
Mike,’ she said, exasperated. ‘Anyway, dinner’s ready.’

Loki followed Mike and Nancy out of the room and into another where
a small square table was set up.

‘Take that seat right there,’ Mike said, pointing to the one
directly ahead. Loki sat down and stared at the plate of food in front of him; a
joint of chicken and some vegetables. At least that looked familiar. He was so
hungry he could feel his mouth moisten as his eyes took in the feast he’d been
presented with.

‘Loki, would you like to say grace?’ Mike asked, putting a piece of
thin paper in his lap.

Loki fingered his own piece of paper folded beside his plate idly. ‘Grace?’

‘You know–a prayer to God to thank him for this food.’

Loki cocked his head to the side. ‘To one god only?’ he asked,
confused.

Nancy and Mike looked at each other. ‘Yeah. Just the one God for
us,’ Mike replied with an unsteady smile. He shrugged. ‘Don’t worry about it.
I’ll say grace for us.’

Loki watched as Mike bowed his head, mumbling some words under his
breath before both he and Nancy finished with ‘Amen.’

‘Is that all?’ Loki inquired, looking between Mike and Nancy.

Mike smiled. ‘Yep, that’s it.’ Picking up his knife and fork he
added, ‘You’d better get eating before it gets cold.’

Loki stared at the cutlery and picked it up, watching how Mike used
it before trying it himself. He found it much simpler than he thought it was
going to be. How strange it was though that they prayed to only one god. Had
they forgotten already?

After dinner, Loki was shown into a bathroom where he could wash and
change into some of Mike’s old clothes. He paused on the stairs coming back
down when he heard Mike and Nancy talking together in hushed tones.

‘You just found him there?’ Nancy asked.

‘Yeah. In those rags he was wearing. It looked like he’d been
abandoned there, but for a lot longer than just a few hours.’

Nancy sighed. ‘Are you sure he’s safe?’

There was a long pause before Mike spoke again. ‘He seems harmless
to me, but I’ll stay awake tonight just to make sure. Would that make you feel
better?’

‘Yes, darling, that would make me feel much better. Thank you.’

Loki cleared his throat loudly, giving them a warning before
continuing down the stairs. When he appeared in the living room, Nancy was
lying across the couch with her head in Mike’s lap. His fingers were brushing
away her hair carefully, tucking it behind her ear in slow, languid movements.

Loki found a place on the other small sofa. Breathing in a deep
breath, Loki felt a faint vibration in his body. He had felt it while he was
bathing also, but didn’t give it another thought. It seemed stronger this time
though.

‘Mike, where is New Mexico in the United States?’

Mike’s hand paused in stroking his wife’s hair for a moment. ‘New
Mexico? Well, it’s in the south west of the country, right between Arizona,
Texas and Colorado.’

Loki nodded to show he understood. ‘And what is that way?’ He
pointed over his shoulder.

Mike frowned before he answered. ‘Ah, lots of states, Loki. There’s
Oklahoma, Missouri, West Virginia, New York.’

‘Oh.’

‘I have an atlas here somewhere. I can show you if you like?’

Loki nodded. ‘Yes. I would like that. Thank you.’

Nancy sat up so her husband could go and get the atlas, smiling
kindly at Loki.

‘You really don’t remember anything?’ she asked gently.

Loki shook his head. ‘It is as if I’ve just been born into this
world.’

‘Alright, here we go.’ Mike placed the open book on the coffee table
in between them. Loki slid from the chair and looked at the map.

‘So, we’re here,’ Mike said, his finger coming down to stab New Mexico
in the belly, ‘and here’s Oklahoma, that’s Tennessee, West Virginia, Philly...’
His fingers kept skimming over the different states, but Loki could hear only
the vibration in his body, feel the pull in his blood.

Odin was in the north east of this country.

He was there.

Loki could feel it.

T
aer’s kick came
in low, slamming into Adrian’s knee cap. A hiss escaped his lips, a throb
climbing his leg where she’d struck. Adrian’s teeth ground together as he tried
to breathe through the pain. He went down on one knee, grabbing Taer’s leg and
slamming a full-knuckled punch into her shin bone. She winced and retreated a
few steps. She paused, breathing heavily through her nose. Her guard dropped,
and Adrian took the opening with a satisfied smile.

Pushing off with his rear leg, he landed a flat-footed kick to her abdomen.
The force of contact threw her off balance, swivelling her body around. She let
out a string of obscenities as she fell in a heap on the floor, pain riding her
body.

It was over and she was the loser.

His sister was good, but she had to be better.

‘Don’t let your guard down—you drop your hand when you kick. And
keep your balance even on both feet,’ he said, offering her his hand and
pulling her up off the padded floor. Taer dusted herself off, glaring at him.

‘Again,’ she said, still breathing heavily. Adrian smiled, flashing
his fangs and stretching out the leg she had struck.

‘Enough for today.’ His stomach growled, reminding him of the time. ‘You
need more practice.’

Taer shrugged on a leather dagger holster that criss-crossed her
small chest. ‘I know I do, but you’re working at the club all the time.’

Adrian wiped the sweat from his brow using the end of his tee.
‘Yeah, well, that’s a necessity. I try to give you as much time as I can
afford.’ Picking up an identical dagger holster, he slid it onto his shoulders
before pushing his Barretta into the waistband at the small of his back.

Taer pushed open the side door to the garage, stepping out into the
cool breeze.

‘You know you could ask Korvain to teach me. I’m sure he’d make a
great teacher,’ Taer said, going for nonchalance, but not pulling it off.

Adrian ground his teeth together. ‘I don’t want you bothering him,
Taer.’ She’d had that Walking Death Wish in her head ever since he’d moved in
with them. ‘He’s no good for you.’

She huffed. ‘You don’t think anyone is good for me.’ Taer opened the
back door, her eyes scanning for threats just like he’d taught her to do.

‘That’s because it’s true.’ Sliding the holster off his shoulders,
he placed it down onto the counter then took out his gun.

Taer grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, tossing one to him.
‘You know, I’m not a little girl anymore.’ He caught the bottle and took a deep
drink. Adrian glanced at his sister only able to see that fragile small child
who had hidden in his shadow as they grew up.

She was his apprentice now. She wanted to become a Walker—she wanted
to become
agarwaen
—but the reality was she probably wasn’t going to make
it until he made her harder to kill than the other apprentices out there.

It was Darrion’s sick idea of sport to pit all the apprentices from
the current quinary against each other at the conclusion of their training to
see who would walk away unaided and who would be put back together and sent
home in a pine box.

Unfortunately, the idea had caught on. All the guilds subjected
their apprentices to a Final Test in some way, shape or form, but Darrion’s was
by far the most brutal. There could only be one winner. Even if an apprentice
was only maimed in an attack, the winner would kill them to prove his loyalty
to Darrion.

They had all done it.

And they all had the words inked onto their back to demonstrate
their continued loyalty.

The locks on the front door slid open then, shaking Adrian from his
grim thoughts.

‘My brother.’

Adrian glanced toward the hallway. Korvain was covered in sweat, his
shirt sticking to his skin and highlighting the muscular planes of his abdomen.

His broad shoulders filled the doorframe, dwarfing the rest of the
room. The size of his biceps were like tree trunks, his thighs much the same,
all twitching with brute power.

Korvain was the last of the pure-blooded Mares. He truly was the
best example of what their race had been. He was two hundred and fifty pounds
of rippling muscle and impending death. He was a living, breathing dagger
through the heart.

‘Hey.’

Korvain pulled the tee over his head and threw it on the table
beside the door. There was a choking sound, and when Adrian glanced over at
Taer, she was having trouble swallowing the water she had in her mouth. She
coughed, turning bright red.

Korvain’s dark eyes ratcheted to her, a small smile that looked
wrong on his harsh face turning up his lips in the corners. ‘You alright there,
Little Fox?’

She coughed again, a strangled sound following before she ran up the
stairs. Korvain threw his head back and laughed; a deep, throaty sound. He
parked it in the recently vacated stool, snagging the bottle of water in front
of him. He swallowed the rest of the contents and crushed the bottle in his
giant palm.

‘How’s her training going?’ he asked.

Adrian shrugged. ‘Not bad, but not great either. She’s getting to
know the movements well, but her timing is still off. Reaction time is good,
but she doesn’t think much beyond that.’ He took another sip from his water
bottle, letting the cool liquid swirl around his mouth. ‘It makes her
defensive, but vulnerable, too, because she’s not thinking ahead and planning
the counters.’

Korvain nodded as he spoke, but didn’t offer any advice. ‘I’m glad I
don’t have an apprentice,’ he said under his breath. The truth was Adrian would
have preferred not to have one either, but it was take Taer on, or let her
become another concubine. ‘Alright, well, I’m going to crash,’ he announced,
stretching out his nearly seven foot frame. The vertebrae in his back popped
and he rolled his neck to loosen everything up.

As he stalked away, Adrian got an eyeful of the tattoo that spanned
the width of his best friend’s shoulders. In the old language were the words
Death
before dishonor
. If Adrian had looked in the mirror, he would have seen exactly
the same thing etched into his skin.

The words were their contract to their guild master. Darrion’s blood
had been bound with the ink, and contractually, if they failed in their
objective, he could take their lives. It was like having a gun perpetually
trained at their heart.

The microwave chimed.

‘Tay?! Food!’ Adrian called up the stairs, pulling the hot bowl from
the plate.

‘I’m not hungry!’ she shouted back a minute later. ‘I’m too busy
dying of embarrassment.’

Adrian didn’t need to be told twice. He shrugged and began
shovelling the food into his mouth.

* * *

O
din didn’t know
where he was going. He was just wandering around the streets of Boston,
restless; the conversation with Verdandi and Skuld lapping his head. Gods, he
needed a drink to calm him down. He kept on walking though, and when he lifted
his head, he realized where he had inadvertently walked to.

Odin’s Eye
.                      

Gunner’s eyes narrowed as he walked by, hands shoved in his coat
pockets, his shoulders rolled forward. He glanced at her quickly then looked
away. From the corner of his eye, he could see her mouth moving while her hand
rested near the collar of her shirt. A few words were spoken quickly before she
stood at ease again.

Odin walked the block, ignoring all the other bars and nightclubs,
cutting back and walking past
The Eye
once more. Bryn was standing
beside Gunner this time, her hard eyes fixed on him from across the street.

Dammit, he didn’t know what he was doing. He was one step away from
being a stalker. How ironic that was, he thought.

Every day, Odin
would go down to the docks and watch Brynhildr’s father toil. And each day,
Brynhildr would run down to see him, telling him of what her mother had made
her do that day. The man would wrap his arms around his daughter and hold her
tight, and there was an ache in Odin’s chest each time he saw it.

That was what he wanted. He had sons, but he longed for a daughter. For
hundreds of years, he watched the humans with their sons—teaching them the
family trade or business—but the girls were always left behind doing menial
jobs by the hearth. He wanted more for them. He wanted a daughter of his own to
teach, to make her feel more important than just being somebody’s wife.

‘Are you here to see me?’ Bryn asked. Odin jerked back from the
sound, having not seen or heard her approach. She looked at him warily,
measuring him visually, stepping off the road and onto the pavement in front of
him.

‘I...’ he faltered, his mind lost to the memory from his past that he still
regretted to this day.

Bryn crossed her arms over a t-shirt that held the name of her club.
‘What are you doing here, Odin?’ The tone of her voice was venomous.

He cleared his throat, took a deep breath. ‘I need to speak with
you.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘About what?’

He glanced up and down the street suspiciously. ‘Something that
doesn’t need to be discussed in public. Can we go somewhere?’

Silence seemed to suspend time between them. She would say no. He
knew it. Why would now be any different from the dozens of other times he had
tried to come and speak with her?

She turned around without answering, making her way across the road—effectively
dismissing him. What was he thinking? She hadn’t changed her mind about him.
She still hated him.

‘You’d better come to my office,’ she called over her shoulder.

Odin stared at her, dumbfounded. She had never given him the time of
day before this.

Bryn was across the street now, walking down the alleyway beside the
club. Odin followed, the scent of garbage drifting into his nostrils. Up ahead,
a door opened, golden light pouring out onto the asphalt. Bryn ushered him
through, closing the door behind them both.

Her office was utilitarian: dual screens set up on her desk, a
mountain of paperwork yet to be filed away, filing cabinets no doubt empty. She
waved him toward the chair facing her desk as she sank into her own, facing him,
her expression unreadable.

Odin undid the button on his Tom Ford single-breasted and sat down,
his legs crossed at the ankle. Her eyes travelled over his attire.

‘Nothing’s changed, has it?’ she murmured.

He looked down at his designer suit, brushing a few pieces of
non-existent lint away from the collar. ‘I’m afraid I don’t understand.’

She smiled, but there was no humor to it.
‘The suit, the French cuffs, the diamond tie pin,’ she waved in the general
direction of the items mentioned. ‘Nothing changes.’

Bryn pulled open a desk drawer and took out a bottle of clear
liquid. Screwing the top off, she took a mouthful from the bottle. ‘You want a
drink?’ she asked after swallowing. He knew she didn’t expect a positive
answer, but he gave her one all the same.

‘A cognac wouldn’t go astray.’

Her lips puckered. ‘Sorry, all I have is vodka.’

He sighed. ‘Vodka will have to do then.’

Bryn handed over the bottle and sank back into her chair, watching
Odin take a mouthful. He placed it back on the desk, inclining his head
slightly.

‘So you said you wanted to talk. I’m busy. I don’t have all night.’

‘I have come to ask you to return to my side.’

‘Why?’ she snapped back instantly, her shoulders stiffening.

‘I miss you.’

‘Bullshit,’ she snarled quietly. ‘Tell me the real reason.’

‘That is the real reason, Brynhildr. Isn’t that enough?’ He truly
wasn’t lying. He did miss her. She was his first Valkyrie; his first daughter.

Odin could hear her teeth grinding furiously at the use of her full
name. ‘I told you there would only be one way for me to return to your side.’

It was Odin’s turn to grind his teeth, but he stopped himself. Bryn
had granted him this audience. He couldn’t fuck it up. He stared at her blankly,
masking his rage. ‘You could ask me for anything else and I would give it to
you, but I will not allow that boon.’ His words were soft, his tone even softer,
but inside his blood ran like fire through his veins.

‘I think Kara has suffered enough.’

‘She broke the rules, and she was punished for that.’

‘I know she did, but after the millennium she served you honorably,
dutifully, you couldn’t have spared her that humiliation?’

Odin blew out a breath. It was true Kara’s honor had been lost, but
it was her own doing. She had made the decision to break his rules.

‘Kara has always been...flighty.’

‘So expelling her from your service was the way to fix that?’ There
was a sharpness to Bryn’s voice she hadn’t been able to fully disguise.

Odin’s chest rose and fell. ‘I left her her immortality.’

Bryn’s brow rose. ‘Yes, but you banished her. How well did you think
she was going to take that rejection?’

Odin was tired of talking about Kara. He focused his one clear eye
on Bryn, on the Valkyrie he needed to protect for both their sakes. ‘Bryn.
Please.’

He wouldn’t beg her, so that was as close as he was going to get to
it.

The Valkyrie shook her head, her braid swinging behind her head.
‘You have my answer. Unless yours changes don’t come back here.’

He looked down at the hands folded in his lap. ‘Final answer?’

Bryn gave him a tight nod. He stood up and left the office, trailing
down the hallway and out into the cool air. As soon as he was free of the
protective runes, he vanished—fading out of Bryn’s life once more.

* * *

L
oki had left Mike
and Nancy’s place early the next morning before they’d woken up. Even though he
hadn’t deserved it, their kindness wouldn’t soon be forgotten. They had clothed
him, fed him and housed him, but revenge was the thought consuming his mind so
completely.