Dark Deceit (10 page)

Opening his eyes once more, Loki continued crossing Branch Street,
but paused at Chestnut. On the corner was a house which hummed with an energy
similar to Odin’s. He took a few cautious steps closer, looking at the
doorways, looking for a sign.

Above one, there was the same symbol of protection that had been on
the club. His eyes ran over the building, looking for a way to gain entry. Just
then the front door opened and a woman stepped out.

Loki pulled out the paper from his pocket, pretending to study it.
The woman’s bi-colored blue eyes passed over his face without any recognition.
Her pale hair was tied back from her face, exposing a tattoo on her neck that
looked like a silver sword.

Valkyrie
.

His body vibrated as he tried not to strike out there in the street.
He would bide his time and come back for her. He only had one shot at it and he
had to get it right.

O
din heard the
screech of a car alarm blaring into the night, jolting him from his sleep. He
had been dreaming about that awful day, the day his grip on control had finally
snapped. Shaking his head, he sat up. With his elbows on his knees, his head
sank into his hands.

Disturbing dreams about his past haunted his sleep; thoughts about
Bryn mostly. Thinking about the severance filled Odin’s heart with a hollow
ache. After Kara’s banishment, he assumed Bryn would help the Valkyrie out and
then return to him. Kara had needed to be punished, not Bryn, but
somehow—inadvertently—that was exactly what he’d done.

Nearly one hundred years later, she was still as determined as ever
to prove him wrong, to live her life away from him.

The alarm was still going. Pushing himself off the bed, Odin peered
out of the window, frowning. As he looked, the lights flared and the horn
stopped; the night returning to blissful silence.

Odin let the curtain slide from his fingers, blocking out the world
once more. He needed to find a way to get Bryn back to him. He needed to
protect her...

After watching Bryn’s father for two human years, Odin had seen Bryn
grow into a beautiful young woman. She was almost fourteen now; her long blonde
hair glossy with health, her blue eyes intelligent, yet playful. She wasn’t a
little girl anymore.

Bryn came to see her father without fail whether it was raining,
hailing or snowing. And her father was always happy to see her, still crushing
her to his body when she flung herself at him.

One day, before Bryn had come to see her father, Odin let himself be
seen by the humans. He walked the docks as he had always done, but this time,
the humans noticed him—studying him with suspicion in their eyes.

‘Brander Gunnarsson,’ Odin said, reaching the male.

Bryn’s father looked up from his work, his blue eyes watchful. When
he straightened up to his full height, he said, ‘Yes?’

‘I have come to make a deal with you.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘What kind of deal?’

No doubt he was thinking this was about his work. ‘Do you know who I
am?’

Brander shook his head, his grip on the bone-handled knife he’d been
using on the nets tightening.

Odin smirked at him, leaning in a little closer. ‘Take a guess.’

‘You only have one eye like the All-Father does, but you cannot be
him.’

‘Why not?’

Brander laughed suddenly. ‘Because the All-Father does not stroll among
us mortals for sport.’ He turned back to his work, dismissing Odin. ‘Leave me
now. I have work to do and not enough sunlight to do it in.’

Odin paused momentarily before reaching out and taking the man’s
shoulder. He let him feel the strength in his body, let him feel the current of
electricity burning through his fingers. ‘I am who you believe me to be. I am
Odin.’

Brander stumbled away from his words, looking over Odin with
continued scepticism. The human studied him for a moment then reached for the
stone pendant at his throat, clutching it. The pad of his thumb ran over the
protective rune inscribed there.

Odin watched him slowly unravel. So many emotions passed over his
face: disbelief, contemplation, confusion, conflict. The humans believed in the
gods, but never expected to meet them.

Shakily, Brander reached out to a sack of grain piled up behind him
and sat down, the knife slipping from his fingers and clattering to the wooden
dock.

‘No...you can’t...’ Brander shook his head. His eyes were fixed on the
ground. When his breathing had returned to normal, he looked up into Odin’s
face. ‘Are you really him?’ he asked sincerely.

Odin nodded. ‘I am. Now, about that deal.’

‘I don’t know what a fisherman would have that you would desire, but
you can have anything.’ He swallowed. ‘You are the All-Father.’

Such reverence he spoke with. Odin kept the delight from his face.
Slowly, he said her name. ‘Brynhildr.’

Brander shook his head slowly, his pale eyebrows drawing together.
‘I don’t understand.’

‘Your daughter. Brynhildr. I want her.’

In an instant, the veneration was gone. The human was suddenly
shaking with anger. ‘You cannot have her. She is still a maiden.’ His rage
spilled over; his veins bulged in his neck, his face turning scarlet. ‘Go and
spread your seed elsewhere.’ The words were thrown at him, Odin’s wrath long
forgotten.

Brander’s defiance angered Odin. Nobody said no to him. ‘I will have
her Brander whether you agree or not. This was just a courtesy—a courtesy you
do not deserve, but a courtesy all the same.’

‘She is not yet fifteen! What use do you have for her?’ he cried.

‘I will not take her yet. When she is eighteen I will return for
her. She will not marry. You are to ensure she remains pure.’ Odin’s tone left
no room for argument.

‘Wh-what are you going to do with her?’ he stammered, fear turning
his sun-browned skin white.

Odin smiled. ‘I have special plans for her.’

Odin shook the
memory from behind his eyes. He remembered that day so clearly, but had not
thought about it for so long. He also remembered what happened when he had
returned for her on the day of her eighteenth birthday.

The god lay back down on his bed and closed his eyes. Sleep was
elusive, but eventually it came. 

* * *

L
oki pulled
Sooty’s wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and flipped it open. Inside
were lots of pieces of plastic; some with photos, some with numbers, some with
strange little shiny pictures in the corner. He pulled out the one with Visa
written on it, turned it over, studied it. This had to be the one that turned
into money in stores.

Sleep had been tugging at him for hours now. He needed to bathe and
eat and sleep. Walking along the streets of Boston, he found a suitable inn and
entered. He approached a long bank of counters, his eyes constantly scanning
the interior of the building.

‘Good evening, sir. How can I help you?’ a woman asked him from
behind one of the desks. Her black hair was coiled up on top of her head, her
equally dark eyes smiling at him.

Loki approached her slowly, tentatively. ‘I wish to sleep,’ he said.

‘Of course, sir.’ She started tapping on the keyboard in front of
her screen. ‘Is it just you?’

‘Yes.’

‘We have an executive room available. It’s one hundred and ninety-five
dollars per night.’ She looked up at him and smiled. ‘Would you like to take it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Great.’ She pressed a few more keys. ‘How long are you intending to
stay with us, sir?’

Loki didn’t know how long it would take to execute his plan. ‘A
week.’

The human smiled again, her fingers tapping the keyboard quickly and
efficiently. ‘I’ll just need some ID and a credit card.’

Loki pulled Sooty’s wallet from his pocket and took out his license
and credit card. He handed it to the woman who frowned at the photo. Loki
quickly changed his features enough to pass as Sooty, but not enough to be
unrecognisable. It was a subtle shifting of features—changing the shape of his
nose slightly, widening his eyes a little, making himself appear shorter when
in fact it was all an allusion.

When the human looked up, she frowned again then looked down at the
photo once more. ‘What brings you to Boston, Mr.
Metzger?’

‘Business.’

She smiled and nodded before saying, ‘The card went through fine.’
She placed the license and credit card onto the counter alongside another set
of plastic cards. ‘This is your room key. You are up on level six, room four.’

Loki pocketed all the plastic and turned to leave. ‘Mr Metzger? Do
you need any help with your luggage?’ the human called out after him.

‘No...thank you,’ he replied, walking over to the bank of elevators
and pushing the ‘up’ arrow. As the elevator took him up to his floor, his mind
worked over the plan that had suddenly been put into play.

He knew the location of the first Valkyrie. He could find out where
the rest were from her, and when the goddess wasn’t of use to him anymore, he
would kill her, cut out her heart and ensure Odin found her.

‘M
y brother, you
awake?’ Adrian called through the door. Korvain rolled over, rubbing the sleep
from his eyes. Afternoon sun trickled in past the blinds, casting the room in a
soft orange glow. Fuck. He’d slept away most of the day.

Pulling himself up onto this elbows, Korvain said, ‘Yeah.’ The
sheets dragged down his naked chest with the movement, pooling at his hips.
Adrian pushed open the door and stuck his head inside.

‘I just got a call from Bryn. She needs you tonight. Winta’s still a
no-show.’

‘Yeah, alright. What time?’

‘An hour.’

Korvain nodded and fell back onto the mattress, throwing a forearm
across his face. The door snicked shut, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Tonight could be the night he killed her.

Tonight could be the night he wiped ten years off his contract with
Darrion.

That thought alone spurred him into action. He showered and got
dressed, arming up and hiding the small arsenal on his body with carefully
positioned shadows. He went downstairs to find Adrian biting into a sandwich
over the sink. The other man glanced up and grinned, his mouth trying to make a
word that came out garbled.

‘What?’

Adrian swallowed. ‘Sandwich?’

Korvain shook his head. ‘Nah, I’m good.’ He stood there for a
minute. ‘I’m going to go early. I need to talk to Bryn.’

‘About a permanent job? I knew you fucking liked it there.’

Korvain smiled. ‘Yeah. Something like that.’

Taking the back door out of the kitchen, Korvain faded to the rear
entrance of the club and pounded on the steel door. Half a minute later, it
swung open, Korvain taking a few steps backwards to avoid being hit.

Bryn stood there staring at him. She was suspended between the jamb;
one hand on each side of the frame. Today she was in a pair of tight jeans and
another fitted tee. This time the logo of the bar was scrawled over her
breasts. Korvain knew he was staring, but somehow he couldn’t stop himself.

‘I’m glad you came,’ she said, snapping him out of his stupor. His
eyes climbed the rest of her body until they hit her face. He could have sworn
her cheeks had colored. Before he could call her on it, she threw something in
his face.

Korvain pulled the fabric away and looked at the shirt. It was
identical to Bryn’s, just black instead of white and about ten times bigger. He
brought his arms down and cocked a brow at her.

‘If you’re going to work here, you’ll have to look the part.’ She
stepped back from the doorway. ‘Change room is there.’ She pointed down the
hall about fifteen feet away. ‘Questions?’

‘Yeah, is anyone else here yet?’

She shook her head, her braid sliding against her back. ‘Not for
another half an hour.’

Korvain watched as Bryn disappeared into her office. He could attempt
to find her cloak now and kill her before the rest of security turned up, but
half an hour wasn’t a lot of time to play with. Besides, he had no idea where
her cloak was.

Deciding to wait, he pushed into the staff change room and dumped
the shirt onto a long bench that sat in the middle of a room surrounded by
lockers. Keeping his weapons shrouded in shadow, he stripped off the holster
that held his Sig Saurs, the thigh holster for a blade and the garrotte wire.

He was dragging his shirt over his head when the door to the change
room opened and closed with a soft click. With his back to whoever had just
walked in, he quickly peeled his shirt off the rest of the way, dumped it on
top of his weapons and turned around.

‘Nice tat. Does it mean anything?’ Kara stood in the doorway, her
eyes at half-mast. She was in a silk robe the same shade as the turquoise ring
of color in her eyes, and a pair of clear heels.

When she spoke, her eyes were fixed on his chest, absorbing every
inch of his muscular body. Korvain felt the violation, but could do nothing to
stop it.

‘No,’ he replied, hearing the hostile snarl in his voice. ‘What are
you doing here? I thought you girls got dressed upstairs.’

‘We do, but I heard you were here early, so I thought I’d come and talk
to you.’ The sound of her voice had desperation written all over it.

‘Talk about what?’ Korvain shoved his arms into the new shirt,
irritated with Kara showing up like this. Surely his message that he wasn’t
interested had been received loud and clear before.

‘Don’t feel like you have to cover up for my sake,’ she said in a
slow drawl, her hand clutching at her throat, her pupils dilated. Korvain
narrowed his eyes at her as she slunk her way toward him. Shaking his head, he
slipped his head into the top of the shirt and pulled it down his torso.

The hungry look that shone in her face dimmed slightly at the brush
off, but like the pro she was, she wasn’t ready to give up on her prize just
yet. Her long fingernails were painted in a color complimenting her eyes, fluttering
impatiently as she reached for him.

Korvain ground his teeth together at her intrusion. ‘What are you
doing?’

Tilting her head back, she looked him in the eye. ‘I wanted to thank
you for saving me from that man the other night.’

Korvain pulled her hands free from his body and put the bench
between them. ‘You’re welcome.’

The Valkyrie pouted and sashayed in his direction again.

‘Kara—’ Before he could finish his sentence, the Valkyrie’s mouth
was on his. Her tongue was pushing against his lips, trying to breach his teeth
and enter his mouth. He growled and pulled away from her, ignoring the dark,
hungry look in her eyes.

From the corner of his eye, Korvain realized the changing room door
was now open. He could see Bryn standing there, her mouth hanging open, her
hand still on the handle as she took in the scene in front of her.

Fuck.

Korvain took a step back from Kara, his hands up in front of him.

‘I was wondering where you were. Now I see what held you up. I’ll,
ah, leave you two to it.’ Bryn retreated from the room, the look on her face—annoyingly—made
his chest hurt.

He rounded on Kara, trying his best to keep his anger in check.
‘What the
fuck
do you think you’re doing?’ he snarled, his hands
bunching into fists at his side.

Kara stared at him, a look of satisfaction in her dual-toned eyes.
‘I was thanking you.’

Korvain stared at her then at the door where Bryn had been. How much
had she seen? Did she know that it was Kara who came onto him, or did she only
see her mouth plastered onto his?

‘You’re wasting your time,’ Kara said, drawing his attention back to
her. Her seductress face was gone; a scorned, pissed-off woman in its place.

‘Excuse me?’ 

‘Bryn. You’re wasting your time with her. She’s uptight. What you
need is a sure thing.’

Unbelievably, she pressed her body against him again. Korvain growled,
not bothering to muffle the sound this time. Kara had the good sense to pull
away from his tightly-wound body, to step back. Self-preservation had finally
kicked in. Thank the fucking gods.

‘Stay away from me, Kara,’ he hissed, scooping up his weapons that
were wrapped in his shirt and shadows. He shouldered his way out of the room,
the sound of Bryn’s office door slamming shut bringing his head around.

* * *

B
ryn had heard
everything Kara had said, and the words stung.

‘Stay away from me, Kara.’ Korvain’s words came out in an angry hiss.
She turned and retreated to her office when she heard his angry footsteps
stomping around, getting closer to the door. She had to disappear. He couldn’t
see the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

Pressing her back against the closed door, she wiped the wetness
from her cheeks angrily. Why was she upset by this? Korvain didn’t belong to
her. He could kiss or fuck whoever he wanted. But seeing Kara with him made her
feel like she’d just been stabbed in the back.

Her eyes landed on the bottle of 42 on the top of her desk. Lurching
forward, she grabbed the thing with both hands and took a deep pull. When there
was only an inch of clear liquid left at the bottom of the bottle, Bryn
collapsed into her desk chair and buried her head in her hands.

She didn’t understand this feeling of jealousy. It didn’t make any
sense. Was she upset that Kara had gotten her claws into Korvain, or was it
something else? Seeing their lips fused together brought the memories of the dreams
back to her. In one of them, Korvain’s lips had been pressed to her mouth like
that. Her lips tingled even now with the sensation.

She had woken up from another bout of disturbed sleep. She’d only
been able to get a few hours at a time, and each time she’d gotten up to walk a
lap of her apartment. Her feet had pressed into the soft carpet when she swung
her feet off the bed. Her toes had curled into the pile, her need to feel
grounded overwhelming.

Even though she shouldn’t, the need for a shot or two of vodka had called
to her. Not bothering with a robe, Bryn had padded out of her room in a tank
and boxers, bee lining for the freezer.

Pulling one of the squat glasses from the drying rack, she’d poured
a few fingers of vodka into it and brought the rim to her lips. She was
swallowing the first mouthful when she’d seen a figure looming in the living
room. Placing the glass down, she’d squinted into the darkness.

She knew there was no way anybody could get up there. She had the
best charms and modern technology in place. She’d laughed at her own stupidity.
She was seeing things. The insomnia was rearing its ugly head and giving her
hallucinations.

Draining the rest of the glass, she’d placed it in the sink and
wandered back through to her bedroom. When the door was shut firmly behind her,
the hairs at the base of her skull had stood at attention. She felt eyes on
her.

The same huge shape she’d seen in the living room was now in the
corner of her bedroom. Flipping on the light switch, she’d squinted at the
glare until her eyes adjusted. She’d looked over at the corner and slammed her
back into the door as she stepped away from what she’d just seen.

Korvain was standing casually against the wall. His arms were crossed;
a dark, sensual look in his eyes.

‘Korvain?’ she’d croaked.

Pushing himself off the wall, he’d approached her in a rolling,
predatory gait. His hips seemed to move independently of the rest of his body.
Her eyes had lingered there, her tongue swiping moisture onto her lips.

He reached for her, but instead of touching her, he’d flipped the
light off again. Darkness descended, and despite her night vision not kicking
in yet, she could see him so clearly in front of her.

‘Bryn,’ he murmured, his hand had slid over her cheek and cradled
her face against his palm. A shuddered breath of contentment had left her lips.
He moved in closer, bringing his lips to her ear. ‘I can’t stay away.’

She’d moaned and felt her body go slack. He pressed his body into
hers, letting her feel all the strength he had in his muscles, letting her feel
what was straining against her belly.

Korvain had dipped his head until their mouths were mere inches
apart. His warm breath had trekked over her face, his spicy masculine scent
getting trapped in her nostrils.

She’d arched her back, her hips jerking into his and causing him to
suck in a hiss. ‘Kiss me,’ she breathed, pushing her chest out. He’d growled
down low in his throat and meshed their mouths together.

There had been nothing tender or sweet about the kiss. It hadn’t been
the tentative meeting of two mouths, but a rushed push toward something they’d
both wanted—what they’d both needed. His tongue had licked at the seam of her
lips, coercing her to open for him. She had, letting his tongue slide into her
mouth. Her tongue had wrestled with his for a long while before she simply let
him do what he wanted. He’d explored her mouth, tasting her completely.

She’d melted in his strong arms, her hands gripping his biceps to
stay upright. Heat bruised her body, pushing more satiated moans from her
throat. She was getting lost in him when he’d pulled back, sucking on her
bottom lip as he did.

She was panting, looking into his eyes. He’d smiled and scooped her
up effortlessly into his arms. He’d walked her to the side of the bed and laid
her down gently, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

‘Sleep now.’ It was a command she had no way of disobeying. Her eyes
had slid shut and when they opened again, it was late afternoon. She had slept
for around six hours straight—something she hadn’t done in years.

Sitting up in bed, she had touched her lips and smiled.

* * *

L
oki faded directly
from his hotel room back to the red-brick house he’d seen the day before, the
house where he knew a Valkyrie lived. He looked at the house, feeling the life
force of the woman inside. The plan he had come up with was simple, but he
believed it would yield the results he needed.

Loki walked up the steps of the house, altering his appearance
slightly to make his hair black instead of blond, and his eyes brown instead of
green. He injected just the right amount of panic into his expression as he began
knocking frantically on the front door.

The Valkyrie opened the door cautiously, her eyes taking him in
quickly. When she saw the bold-faced panic etched onto his face, the door swung
open all the way.

‘Sir? What’s wrong?’

Loki faked a shudder. ‘Please help me. Someone just ran over my
dog.’

The goddess’s eyes widened as she peered out onto the street.
‘Where?’

‘Just across the road! Please! You have to help me.’

The Valkyrie looked back into his face and nodded. ‘Of course. Just
let me get my coat.’

As soon as her back was turned, Loki followed her into the house,
treading softly. He closed the door quietly behind himself, stalking her toward
a closet at the end of the long entrance hall. He was only a few feet away when
he tackled her from behind.