Gods and Mortals: Fourteen Free Urban Fantasy & Paranormal Novels Featuring Thor, Loki, Greek Gods, Native American Spirits, Vampires, Werewolves, & More (95 page)

We went about our normal routine, showered, then fluffed up the beds and rolled and stuffed a couple of rugs beneath the covers. I turned out the light and Aidan chained the door as well. Then he removed the light bulbs from the nightstand and the overhead lamp, to buy us time. Anyone breaking in would have to wait for their eyes to adjust to the darkness and shadows.

We ducked back into the other room, locked the inner door and left the lights off. The day was threatening to arrive full force, sunny but with a winter bite. The brighter it got the more dangerous it would be for our stalkers to act.

“They’ll come soon,” Aidan whispered. “Be ready.” I nodded.

We didn’t have to wait too long. Within ten minutes, a light scratching sound seeped through the door as they picked the lock. I picked Hugin up and set him on my shoulder again. We stood at the door to our second room, waiting for them to enter the first.

What if there weren’t only two of them? What if only one of the thugs went into the room and the other saw us leave? My wings shivered behind me, invisible but still very much there. We’d have to take the risk and hope for the best.

They entered without speaking, pausing only to crowbar the safety chain. Two sets of footsteps, and a snick as they closed the door quietly behind them. Aidan cracked our room door open, nodded that the coast was clear. Hugin launched off my shoulder and soared over the parking lot. Aidan and I ran after him, dodging between cars and trucks until we reached the last line of parked cars.

Aidan tugged at door handles until one clicked open. We slid in. Before we closed the door, we heard shouting. They had discovered we’d gone. We watched through the car window as Worthington and his partner ran around the motel, searching the lot behind the building, cursing at each other.

“Get down,” Aidan warned.

The two goons jumped into their SUV and swung around the back, following a small dirt road.

“How the hell did they find us?” I whispered, although I no longer needed to.

Aidan reached under the dashboard to hotwire the small Mazda we’d hidden in. The engine sputtered to life. “Don’t know,” he said. “Probably had someone watching Ms. Custer’s place.” Aidan’s face was dark with fury and with something else. A certain hollowness. The sight threw reality into my face in one icy splash. He had started weakening. I’d have to keep a closer eye on him.

W
e didn’t go far
. Just a couple of motels down the road, where we slept the day away, alternating shifts, constantly checking the window.

Back on the road, we took turns driving while Hugin kept pace high above us. The institute, which had seemed too far away when we left Craven, drifted closer and closer by the mile. By the time we reached the city, we were on to our third stolen car and our third day.

And Aidan had begun to show signs of fatigue. We stopped outside Rockville and I got Aidan to down a bit of Mead. The golden liquid rejuvenated him quickly enough, and though my mouth watered for a taste, the fear that we might run out of the precious liquid stopped me from drinking any.

We ditched the Mazda near a junkyard and walked through a deserted part of the town. A short while later we grabbed a bus into the central city, leaving the stolen car far behind.

So far we’d obeyed Fenrir’s instructions not to remove any of our armor, but I just couldn’t bear the thought of wearing my helmet wherever I went. I kept it with me, tucked safely within my bag. Fenrir had claimed the glamor that disguised us was foolproof, but he wasn’t with us on this mission. Better safe than sorry. So we made a short detour, stopping to buy ankle-length coats, and boots to cover our leather-strapped feet. Our swords still hung from our hips, invisible beneath the glamor and our coats, ready to draw at the tiniest hint of trouble.

We needed a few more things. A quick visit to the convenience store and we left with the necessities: flashlights, gloves, flash drives, disposable cameras. Aidan bought a small cooler and fresh ice. Must be for the blood samples we were to retrieve.

Then we hid out at another motel, resting while the day passed. We’d have no chance in hell of escaping notice if we barged into the facility in broad daylight.

L
ater that night
, we hopped on a bus, got off a mile from the institute, and walked into the parking lot under cover of the darkness, breathing hard against the freezing December air.

Three stories of imposing red brick loomed ahead, its walls eerily lit by small spotlights hidden within the surrounding plant beds. Wings fluttered as Hugin flew down toward us. He’d followed the bus on an air current high overhead.

He landed on my shoulder and I shook him off. “Better for you to stay outside. In case we want to make a quick getaway. You’re a bit heavy on a girl’s shoulder, you know.” He found a perch on a nearby sill, cocked his head and gave me a glassy-eyed blink.

We snuck around back, blood thundering in my ears as Aidan swiped his card. Images flew through my mind: alarms sounding, police swooping in, spotlights and helicopters. But nothing happened. Just the annoyed buzzing of a suicidal bug as it repeatedly flew into the dinner plate-sized light in the flowerbed nearest to us.

The little light in the security panel went from red to green and the door swished open. A darkened stairwell greeted us; emergency signs threw weak light onto the concrete stairs. I followed Aidan up to the third floor, and held my breath again as we left the stairwell and crept along a dark passage. The carpet absorbed the sound of our progress, but the various security cameras strategically placed along the way would be recording our progress for posterity. Or for Aidan’s father.

We kept our heads down. I hoped our glamor was good enough to fool the cameras in case our entry was discovered and someone tried to identify the intruders. I trailed Aidan through a warren of passages until he paused at a set of double doors and swiped the card to release them.

Inside, the room was dark. We left it that way, using our flashlights to get around.

Aidan knew exactly where to go. He booted up the nearest workstation, keying in a password. While he waited, he went to a set of fridges at the back of the room, punched in another code and stared into the frigid interior, scanning row after row of labeled tubes of blood samples. At last he withdrew four tubes, shut the fridge and deposited them into the little cooler bag we’d bought.

“What are you going to do with them?”

“Get them out of here.”

“I’d like to have them destroyed or thrown into the garbage,” I said; the idea of my blood samples hanging around just creeped me out.

He nodded, but still sat the bag with the glass vials carefully on the floor. Why would he be so careful with it? The way he held the bag you’d think it contained some kind of lethal airborne virus or something. I snorted in silence as he returned to the computer. I leaned against a counter filled with vials and strange machines. With our flashlights switched off, darkness still shrouded most of the room, just the glare from the monitor and dials of various machines providing minimal light.

Among the deeper shadows of the room, in the far corner of the lab, a red spot glowed. It reminded me of a cigar. The spicy aroma teased my nostrils. I squinted. A shadow moved, ever so slightly. Instinct said scream but common sense countered with silence.

“I wouldn’t scream if I were you,” a man said, almost as if he could read my mind, and far too nonchalant for my liking.

Aidan’s seat went rolling across the tiled floor, and he stood by my side in two seconds, staring at the shadow. “Who’s there?”

“Oh, don’t get your knickers in a knot.” And he stepped from the shadows. He smiled. A mischievous smile, bordering on charming. An oily, practiced, all too self-aware charming.

“Who are you? How did you get in?” Aidan demanded. He’d locked the door behind us when we entered, a small precaution. Not wanting the open door to attract a curious late-night staffer. No other doors or windows offered entry. It seemed impossible that the intruder had been hiding in here in the shadows all along. Watching us.

“I can go where I wish, when I wish.” He left the shadows, strolled toward us and had the audacity to blow cigar smoke at our faces and smile serenely. His bright blue eyes sparkled and white blond hairs stuck up in a multitude of angles at the top of his head. Broad-shouldered, tall and entirely too good looking to be trustworthy. His demeanor was designed to put us at ease, but I wasn’t buying it. And it seemed, neither was Aidan. He tensed beside me.

“Who are you? And what do you want?” Anger edged Aidan’s voice. Anger at this man who’d followed us here and who’d no doubt get us caught.

“Don’t worry, my dears, I’m only here to help you.” He affected a quick bow. “My name is Loki.”

“Loki?” I blinked, first shocked then dismayed to discover who our stalker was. Even I knew the stories of Loki and all the nonsense he got up to. Aidan’s hands curled into fists. I could almost feel the energy flow off his body.

“Don’t look so excited to see me, Brynhildr.” Loki seemed put out by my lack of enthusiasm.

“My name’s Bryn,” I shot back. “So how do you plan on helping us? And why?”

“I have an item which might be of interest to you.” His eyes glittered.

The more he talked, the more the gem at my throat warmed beyond its usual comforting heat. Much like when I’d been close to Freya herself. I watched Loki, eyes narrowed, as he withdrew a small cloth package from his pocket.

He unfolded it, his hands graceful, mimicking those of a magician, as if mere gestures would throw us at his mercy. But what he unwrapped was the last thing I expected. An amber stone lay in the middle of the silky black cloth, so similar to mine it was undoubtedly part of a set or part of something bigger.

Loki held a piece of Brisingamen in his hand.

B
oth amber jewels
glowed as if each sensed the nearness of the other piece. I imagined Brisingamen, once put together, would be a sight beyond beautiful. But as much as I wanted to reach for it, I didn’t trust Loki. The God of Mischief, the god not known for playing fair. Something about his eyes gave me visions of Shylock, demanding his pound of flesh. Or my heart on a silver platter.

I held back, but Aidan reached for the gem, holding it in his palm as if it were a fragile seashell, as if it would disintegrate if you even breathed on it. “Where did you get this?” Aidan asked, his voice harsh. No respect for this god.

“Well, boy. That counts as information, doesn’t it?” Loki grinned.

I had no patience for his fun and games. “What do you want? You bring part of Brisingamen to us and then tease us with it? That doesn’t sound much like help to me.”

“Oh no. Now don’t you go making me out to be the bad guy here. I’m not the one who sent you on this near impossible mission, am I?” Loki wagged a finger at me, teeth gleaming in the dim light. But his eyes glowed, bitter black coals. Funny, I could have sworn they’d been an icy blue when he’d first emerged from the shadows. “I want to help you. Because I’m such a nice guy.”

How was it that Loki spoke with such a modern accent? Perhaps he had spent a few years in Midgard then. I didn’t really care to waste time thinking about it. I asked, “And in return?”

“Nothing. I don’t want payment for helping you. It’s time Freya got her damned jewels back. She’s had to live without them for far too long. Takes the fun out of teasing her, you know.”

“So where did you find this?”

“It was given to me by someone. As a gift.”

“Who is this
someone
?” Aidan bit out the question, impatient with Loki as he drew out each answer.

“His name is Nidhogg, and—”

“And he lives in the frigging Underworld!” Aidan spat. I was grateful he, at least, knew his Norse mythology well. “How do you propose we get there?”

“Oh, I can help you get there if you agree to go.” Loki leaned against a table and withdrew a slim metal knife to clean his fingernails, while he puffed away at his cigar. He had no problem making himself comfortable.

“On one condition,” Aidan said. I scowled, annoyed he’d made the decision without consulting me. Annoyed in spite of knowing I would have agreed myself.

“Well, boy, let’s hear your condition, then.” Loki cleaned the tiny blade, inspected the grit he’d removed, then flicked it away, not caring where it would land. I cringed, disgusted, and watched the swirling blue cigar smoke snake around the room, wondering if it would set the fire alarm off.

Aidan raised his chin with attitude. “Give us three days. Then we’ll agree to go.”

“Why not go now?” Loki’s eyes narrowed, now simmering a catlike green.

“Because I only just got out of Asgard. That’s why. I’d rather not go running back there just yet.” Aidan shrugged, appearing nonchalant, buying time with the only excuse that might sound believable to a god who hadn’t exactly had fun in Asgard.

“Ah, the Warrior doesn’t like his new accommodation. If you must know, Freya’s place isn’t much better, although it’s not much worse. But then, you probably won’t go there either way.” Loki looked at me, held my gaze and grinned. Not a hint of maliciousness in his cheerful smile, but I could feel his meaning reaching out to me from his eyes.

He knew.

“We’ll go back as soon as we find Brisingamen,” I said. “But we need the three days. There are a few things we need to do first. Going back is really a one way trip for both of us.” I pretended I’d missed his underlying malevolence, smiling coyly as I spoke.

“Very well. Three days. Don’t worry, I’ll find you, kiddoes.”

We blinked and he was gone.

A
idan handed me the pendant
, and I frowned, turning the piece over and over in my hand. Unlike my stone, this pendant had no silver filigree around it and I guess that perhaps it had been treated differently from the main stone. I untied the cord around my neck and slipped Loki’s gift beside it’s sister. Together the two stones glowed like a pair of shimmering suns.

We completed gathering information, or rather Aidan did, as he knew what he was looking for and how to retrieve it. I felt unnecessary, wondering for a few minutes why I’d even come along.

Then I thought about Loki and his intentions. The god gave me the creeps, and I was grateful Aidan had the presence of mind to hold him off for a few days. My stomach did a trio of flip-flops when I recalled his subtle threat. Somehow, he knew that Aidan was ignorant of Freya’s curse on his health. I battled my demons, waiting for Aidan.

A few minutes later, he powered the workstation down, and I grabbed the icebox. We left the building the same way we entered, joined Hugin outside and returned to the motel at the outskirts of the city. Hugin flew through the open door, right before I closed it. I sneaked a look up and down the passage, pretty sure the motel owners didn’t allow pets, furred, feathered or otherwise.

We swallowed a dinner of burgers and fries. Still not as satisfying as Asgard’s dinners but it filled the hole inside me, at least for a short while. I sprinkled a few fries onto the nightstand and beckoned Hugin, but he just thanked me with his usual glossy stare and didn’t move. I studied Aidan as he munched. It made sense that we shared a room. Safety, company and planning dictated it was the best option. Not to mention dollars. Although I had money, it wouldn’t last long if we were careless.

We sat on our beds, facing each other, eating and talking, coats discarded and armor glinting in the mean light of the motel room. It was so easy to forget we still wore the armor. The beauty of their construction was that although they were solid, impenetrable metal, they molded to the skin and adapted to the temperature of the wearer’s body so well that soon you forgot you were even wearing cold metal. Amazing.

I watched Aidan, still a little annoyed that he’d made the decisions for both of us. I wanted to know why. “Now what? Why’d you buy time?” I asked.

“I wanted to make sure we had as much information as possible. We need to go to the museum too, retrieve those records.” He glanced at the thumb drive on the bed, now filled with data from the lab’s computers.

“Why bother when Loki said Brisingamen is with this Nidi person?”

“Because Loki is a liar and because Nidhogg is a dragon, for God’s sake.” Aidan sighed, exasperated, and challenged me with one raised eyebrow.

“A dragon? Wow, I thought those were purely imaginary creatures.” I glanced at Hugin who perched on top of the TV set. He inclined his head as if in agreement with Aidan. Well.

Aidan snorted. “Clearly they’re not. We’ve just had the reality of Asgard, Valhalla, Valkyries and Freya shoved down our throats.”

“Not to mention Fenrir,” I added.

“Fenrir? What do you mean?” Aidan’s eyes widened.

“You’ve met him. Fen. Fenrir.” What did I have to do? Spell it out to him?

“
That
was Fenrir?
The
Fenrir?” He rubbed his hair, tossing curls every which way and still managing to make it look like it was meant to be that way.

“Yes, Fenrir. How many Fens do you know of?” I was starting to get annoyed with him. “Why the hell is this bugging you so much?”

“Well, if he really is Fenrir, he’s also a
wolf
.” I raised both eyebrows, as if to say
duh
. Aidan blushed. “So you know that too,” he said. “Do you know he’s supposed to cause Odin’s demise in the Great War? And what the hell is he doing in Asgard anyway? He’s supposed to be in chains.”

“He pledged his services to Odin. He’s vowed he has no intention of killing Odin, and that’s how he ended up training the Warriors and the Valkyries.”

“Okay, this just keeps getting better.” Aidan rubbed a hand through his hair and shook his head, clearly bewildered by this strange twist to the original myth. I decided to throw him another one.

“He also trains his entire army of Ulfr, who are all based in Asgard too.” I paused. “They will fight for Odin.”

Aidan’s jaw dropped. “Why didn’t I get to see that before we left?”

“Because you were still in recovery.” I popped the last fry into my mouth, squashed the wrappings into a ball and threw it in the wastebasket beside the TV. Neither of us was remotely interested in the television. The drama of our immediate life was much more invigorating than watching some reality show.