Modern Goddess: Trapped by Thor (Book One) (28 page)

I tugged firmly on my shirt. “It's not
what you think, Barney,” I called after him. “I—“

“
She likes tight, enclosed
spaces,” Thor called in a louder voice. “Or at least she likes
sharing them with—“

I stood sharply on Thor's boot. It hardly
made an indent, but it did shut him up.

“
Do you mind?” I turned on him,
breath caught in the top of my chest. I was beginning to learn that
I had untapped feelings that Thor was helping me to bring to the
surface – feelings of exquisite embarrassment and indignation,
mostly. “I work with him. How dare you—“

“
Shut up, Details.” Thor marched
past me. “Where is your office?”

I stared at him, my mouth opened, all muscle
control lost. I couldn't deal with this guy, I just couldn't.

“
Is there something wrong with
your jaw?” He flicked a curious look my way, then turned this way
and that as he tried to figure out for himself where we were. “Ah
ha,” he said, “I remember this corridor. I remember this broom
cupboard,” he said with a thoughtful look. “You aren't the first
goddess I've shared it with, let's put it that way.” He let his
grin spread further.

He was doing this to wind me up – I knew
that, academically. But it didn't stop the hot flush from escaping
over my cheeks. It didn't stop me from gripping my fingernails into
my palms in an effort not to scream at him so loudly that I cracked
the ceiling.

This was all the height of fun for him.
While he was having a hell of a laugh, he was bringing my
reputation along for his unsavory ride.

What would Barney think of me now?

“
You know, for a goddess,
you spend too much time worrying what people think about you,” Thor
pointed out as he strode off. He was reading my mind.

“
I've seen too many gods who
no longer care, and I don't want to be one of those. They tend to
be of the arrogant and insufferable variety,” I said
pointedly.

“
The junction between faith in
yourself and belief in the view of others is one that only the
powerful can navigate, this is true. You – you care. You dress in
human clothes, you follow their customs, you make their slices and
delicious baked goods. You seem to care how you appear. Yet you
have no idea how it is that you really look.” He glanced at me as
he strode on. “Is that not a paradox, Details?”

“
It's not a paradox, and
it's not strange,” I said, ineloquently. I followed it up with a
huff.

“
I see. It often takes more –
much more – than the words of another to enable someone to change
their worldview.” He tipped his head up as he spoke, fancying it
made him look more in-control – giving his words that extra, divine
authority.

It gave a better view of his nostrils.
“Let's get to my office and get this over with.” I glared at him. I
was beginning to realize that Thor – in his current mood – was not
something I wanted walking around the Integration Office. The
sooner we did what we had to and the sooner we were out of here,
the better. I still wanted to have a job where I could show up with
a measure of dignity and authority once this was done. That meant
that I had to focus on managing Thor like a mother must concentrate
on ensuring her unruly children don't tear apart the candy section
of the super market.

“
You are being determined.
Well done, Details.” Thor nodded sagely.

When this was over, I was going to ensure
that every single visa application this brute put in would be
rejected for the rest of eternity.

We made it to my office, and thankfully we
didn't run into any more of my colleagues. I could trust Thor,
about as far as I could throw him. Which was not at all.

Opening the door to my office and walking in
sent an oddly familiar and pleasant sensation alighting across my
middle. It felt a lot like everything was normal upon coming in and
seeing my desk with all its neat stationary and my clean,
comfortable chair.

I let out a sigh.

“
You miss this that much?” Thor
said immediately from behind me.

It was all those ales, I tried to reason.
They must be making him infuriating. Or it was the prospect that
soon he would be (at least in his mind) happily cavorting on Earth
with three functional simultaneous visas.

“
Yes,” I answered. “I do miss
it.” I didn't bother to elaborate. I hardly thought that Thor, of
all gods, would be able to appreciate how comforting it was to be
able to walk into a room where all you'd done were normal things. I
didn’t associate any sea-monster attacks or kidnappings or seeing
oaks in the middle of the street with my office. Every memory I had
of this place (that didn't involve Thor/Zeus/Jupiter) tended to be
relatively pleasant. Far more pleasant than my last couple of
days.

Not for the first time, I wondered whether
sitting down at my desk and getting on with my job would make all
my problems disappear.

Thor walked over to my chair and flopped
down on it. He then raised his giant feet and plonked them onto my
desk.

The wood underneath him groaned with the
weight.

My lips slowly parted.

Thor rested his head in his arms and grinned
back at me. “Whip out a couple of those visas, and lets have those
sacred contracts signed. Things to do, after all.”

“
Get out of my chair, and
get your feet off my desk,” I snapped at him and tried to push his
feet down. It was a tireless, fruitless, and unwinnable
task.

Thor watched me with interest. Somewhat like
a human might watch an ambitious ant who picks up too much weight
to carry. “Are you done yet?”

I sighed heavily and gave up. “I’m not going
to approve three visas for you, Thor,” I said. “You are dreaming if
you think—“

“
Details, what do you think will
happen to you if...” Thor shifted his jaw to the side, expression
hardening, “Those who are after you manage to find you
again?”

He couldn't say Loki – he couldn't mention
his name. Though I was in a Thor-hating mode, I still had a measure
of sense left in me. If Thor was going to play the game of
referring to Loki as “a god who was after me,” then I'd have to
play along too.

I didn't answer his question. I picked at
some non-existent fluff on my shirt cuffs. “I'm not going to
approve your—“

Thor twisted in the chair to stare at me
more directly – but he didn't remove his feet from my desk. “It
will be unpleasant, Details.”

“
More unpleasant than being
with you?” I asked with a raised eyebrow as I still picked at my
cuffs.

A grin spread across his lips. “Details,”
he said carefully, “Must I point out that you have never been with
me?” He looked thoughtful. “That I remember. I have to say, I do
lose track of these things.”

These things? Were all the numerous mortals
and goddesses he (or mostly Zeus) had courted over the years just
things to him? Wow, what a super dignified way of referring to
living souls. Well done, Mr Universal Jerk.

I shook my head over and over again. I
wanted to point out that a) it wasn’t what I'd meant, and he knew
it, and that b) I was starting to wonder if Loki and his gang
wouldn't be a better option than spending my time with Thor the
godly ass. Before I could speak, Thor removed his feet from my
desk, and the wood seemed to spring back with a relief-filled
groan.

“
Yes, Details,” he appeared
to look serious, “Being with me is a far, far better option. You
play, you jest, but the reality would haunt you. Their intentions –
whatever they are – are of the malicious variety.”

His words and his serious tone seemed to
hang in the air.

He was doing it again. He was controlling
the entire conversation by switching between being uncaring and
startlingly sincere.

“
Thor, no – I’m not going to
sign those—“

“
Details, be reasonable. We
– together – must do everything we can to track this problem down.
We must – together – do everything we can to bring those gods to
justice. We must – together – do everything we can to keep you, and
this planet, safe. Do you not understand how important this is,
Details?” his voice echoed with a seemingly undeniable
genuineness.

Together? By together did he mean that he
would leave me at home while he got to business smashing skulls? Or
that I could sit by his elbow as he looked for clues in the way his
ale splashed in the bottom of his mug?

I patted my bun and tried not to boil to
death under the pressure of my own frustration and anger. “You say
this, but then you are going to go to the Ambrosia, have a fight as
Thor, then one as Jupiter, and one as Zeus. I know you,
Thor—“

He shook his head sharply. “You do not. You
do not know yourself. How can you know another?”

That
's it, I was going to have to resort
to hitting him over the head with something heavy. It was the only
option left open to me.

“
Details,” he sighed
heavily, directing his head down as he stared at his hands. He did
something unexpected – he pulled Mjollnir from his belt and rested
it on the desk. He didn't bust it down with a resounding thump –
physically winning the argument through strength rather than
reason.

He just rested it there. He pointed to it.
“Try to pick it up,” he motioned towards the hilt.

I took an obvious blink. He was wasting
our time again. Everyone knew that no one but Thor could pick up
his hammer. It was bonded to him. “Thor, don't be—“

“
Try to pick it up,
Details,” he said with greater insistence.

He tapped the hilt.

Mjollnir wasn't a hammer; it was a magical
hammer. It could hit anything that Thor wanted it to. It could
strike with as much force as Thor wanted it to. It would always
make its way back to his grip no matter how far he threw
it.

I couldn't pick it up.

“
Pick it up,” he said, voice
vibrating on that frightful edge it had when he'd made time
virtually stop.

Sighing, rolling my eyes, and trying to show
him how stupid I thought this was, I placed my hand on the hilt. I
attempted to lift it. I couldn’t.

I gave it another go – trying to prove to
him that, yes, I was trying here. The hammer was immovable. It felt
like I was trying to move the whole universe with the strength of
my pinkie.

“
Are you happy now?” I let
the hilt of the hammer go and put my hands on my hips.

“
No,” he said, genuinely. He
stood up and towered over me. He looked serious, divinely serious.
“Do you know why you can't pick it up, Details?”

I didn't want to let his tone and the
endless look in his eyes railroad me. I didn't want to fall for
another twist in the Thor-mood wheel that would see him getting
away with acting like an ass for 99% of the time only to pull it
back with the occasional wise one-liner. “It is your bloody hammer,
Thor. It's magical and it is bound to you.”

He shook his head slowly, hair shifting
visibly over his shoulders. “These reasons to do not account for
the truth.” He looked at me pointedly, waiting for me to try
again.

What was this, god school? Was he going to
stand here and question me until I got the right answer?

I threw my hands up. “I don't know then.
I'm a weak goddess—“

“
It's because you don't want to
pick it up,” he cut in. His tone was... endless again. He was
speaking the truth. He was speaking with the authority and
knowledge of the divine (which wasn't as common as you would expect
when you dealt with gods all day).

I don't want to pick it up. Great, this was
going to degenerate into another Thor chest-pumping lesson in
victory. If I wanted to be motivated, I'd go get some self-help CDs
from the library.

“
Do you know why you do not
want to pick it up?” he asked, tone stretching, elongating,
becoming everlasting.

“
I don't want to pull a
muscle?” I answered facetiously. Anymore Socratic-method mid-crisis
teachings from Thor and I'd turn into a rebellious school
child.

“
You don't want the
responsibility.” Thor grabbed Mjollnir and looped it back into his
belt. He stared at me. “I have this hammer so that I may use it to
defend the gods at Ragnarok. I have this hammer so that I may
protect all of creation at the last battle of the gods. There,
Details, I will die.”

The last word hit a note, and boy did it
ring. Mjollnir picked up the same note and it... shifted through
everything.

I blinked. He wasn't lying, I knew that. I
knew the legend.

I felt cold and unashamedly gave a
shiver.

“
You cannot pick up Mjollnir,
because you cannot give your life at Ragnarok. That is my destiny
alone.”

I blinked several more times and found
myself looking at everything but Thor.

That
sad, haunting note died away, and
Mjollnir grew silent. It was an empty silence.

I knew about Ragnarok. All Earth gods did.
It was far off – it was the end of gods, it was hardly going to
happen next Tuesday.... that I knew of.

“
We do not know when it will
happen, Officina,” he used my real name, if it was my real name,
“We must be vigilant. For this, for this I ask you to grant me
three concurrent working visas.”