Love's Choice (12 page)

I marched to the window and saw light playing in the distance.

~   ~   ~

Raven

Dressed in a pair of jeans and a tight t-shirt liberated from a teenage girl's room, I began gathering supplies for us. If we had to venture out into the snow, we would need food, spare clothing, blankets, and any other items I could scrounge up.

It was a frustrating process. I had to hold onto the object or keep it in my sight. If I didn't, it would vanish. I had never done anything so frustrating in my life. I had to keep my toe pressed against a cardboard box as I rooted through the pantry for easy-to-eat, non-perishable foods for us. If my toe slipped away for a second. Poof. Gone.

I did, however, discover something interesting. I could duplicate items. Once I had my act together, thanks to a length of rope tied about my waist and connected to a cardboard box, I made duplicates of an aluminum water bottle. I picked it up, tossed it into the box and when I looked back, a brand new one rested in the cupboard.

I wanted to be ready to go when Magnus returned from his scouting.

Fear twisted through my belly as I worked. Any moment I paused in what I was doing, I would picture Magnus lying broken on the ground again. I knew he could handle himself. The man was amazing. He rode his bike at a charging monster to save me. He stood there firing a pistol at the beast without flinching.

Magnus would be fine.

“That is an interesting style,” a man with a smooth baritone said.

I gasped and spun around. Instinctively, my flaming sword swept into being. A man in a gray, immaculately tailored suit stood in the doorway. It was the type of suit you could only buy in Italy. Perfect craftsmanship. A crimson pocket square added a splash of vibrancy.

The man who wore it was as equally immaculate. His hair was black and slicked back, his eyes an intense green. No stubble adorned his strong jaw. He stood straight, confident, and arrogant, a powerful smile curling his lips.

He was a man that knew he had power and knew how to flaunt it. He stepped into the kitchen, his intense, green eyes examining me. I was shocked by the hot wave that rippled through me. His eyes ended on the sword and his smile grew more confident.

I pointed the sword at him. “That's close enough.”

My heart thudded. Who was this man? Why wasn't he the least bit afraid of a flaming sword brandished before his eyes?

“Who are you?” I demanded, keeping my voice like steel. I couldn't show weakness to this man. I couldn't betray that burning ache that had just seized me.

I needed to control myself.

His hand reached out—his fingernails perfect, not ragged like Magnus's—and pushed my blade to the side. He took another step. My breath quickened. His eyes locked on mine. I needed to look away before I drowned in those verdant depths.

“Who are you?” I repeated, my hand tightening on my sword. I couldn't let him come closer. What if he was an enemy?

“Loki,” the man answered with an urban diction. His voice was cultured. This was a man that would gladly spend an evening at a Wagnerian opera or listen to a concerto by Bach.

“I know that name,” I said, my words cracking. My throat was so dry. I licked my lips. “You're a...a trickster. You can't be trusted.”

“Can any man really be trusted?”

His cologne tickled my nose, a spicy musk that caused me to take a deep breath. The heat increased. A blush spread across my cheeks. I was glad I wore a bra. My nipples were so hard. Why was this man turning me on?

You know, besides being a sexy, billionaire hunk.

I already had a sexy hunk. I didn't need a second.

“You are such a lovely woman, Valkyrie,” Loki smiled. “I can see Sigrid in your face.”

I wasn't surprised he knew my mother. Loki was a god. In those superhero movies, he was Odin's adopted son. But he was always a bad guy, someone that couldn't be trusted.

I fought my moan as his finger stroked the profile of my neck. “Yes, you greatly resemble your mother, Raven.”

“What do you want, Loki?”

“To talk.” His finger drifted down towards my chest; my nipples tingled. “To idle away the time in pleasant company. Have you never had that urge to find some companionship and unburden yourself of all the little thoughts and ideas bouncing through your mind?” He leaned in to my ear. “To share those deep, dark desires.”

“No,” I said, stepping back. This was getting out of hand. I moved the sword, the point low, aimed at his belly. “I have no secrets I want to share with you.”

“Are you sure?” That smile was so confident. “Don't you want to get a taste of what I have to share? You might find them...revealing.”

“If I could believe what you say,” I said. “I know about you, Loki. You're the bad guy.”

He laughed. It was a rich laugh rising from his gut. His head leaned back and his mouth went wide. I felt so foolish. Was I mistaken? Could I really trust what those superhero movies said about Loki? They clearly were inspired by Norse Mythology, but how much of it was accurate?

“A bad guy.” His smile was broad as he shook his head. “I have been called many things. Liar, thief, trickster, savior, betrayer, husband, lover, cheater, gambler, murderer, healer, seer, bard, poet, orator, leader, hero, and villain. But never something so pedantic as 'bad guy.'”

“Well, which are you?” I asked. “You can't be all those things. Not a murderer and a healer, a liar and a seer. You couldn't be a hero and a villain. That's just not possible.”

“Raven, I am all those things and more. I am Loki. I speak only truth and tell naught but lies. I scheme, I plot, I help, and I hinder. I am friend to all and enemy to everyone. And I'm here to be your friend.”

“And my enemy?”

“And more.” He took a step closer. “I can be what you want me to be. I could save you. I could give you secrets. I could tell you why you're here. Or I could be the treacherous ice breaking beneath your feet about to plunge you into the icy depths.”

“Why do you keep contradicting yourself?” I demanded. “What can you possibly hope to gain from me by telling me you're an honest man that lies. Do you expect me to trust you?”

“Do you want to trust me?” Loki asked. “I can see your eyes moving, the color spotting your cheeks, the way your hips shift. You want to trust me. You want me to be like your little berserker who's out stumbling through the snow. You want me simple. Easy to understand. But I want to be an enigma. A riddle you have to solve.”

He pushed my sword aside. I backed away from him. The counter stopped me. He loomed over me. My heart thudded in my chest.

“Raven. What a name to be given. It matches you. Black hair, graceful figure, intelligent eyes. But a raven is a creature of death. A bird that ghosts the battlefield looking for its meal.” He leaned in, his body pressing against mine, and whispered in my ear, “And you have glutted on yours.”

“What?”

“Magnus. You killed him, Valkyrie. By choosing him, you led him to his death. You visited his corpse on the battlefield and you feasted with your lips.”

“That's not what happened. I saved him. My kiss brought him life.”

“Only after it brought him death. That's all Odin gives you. Death.”

I wanted to move. His body pinned me against the counter. He was so strong. My hand wanted to let my sword go and embrace him. He was dark, dangerous, unpredictable. He was so much like Magnus. They may dress differently, but at their core, these men were almost the same. Bold, powerful, confident.

But I couldn't trust Loki. I could trust Magnus.

I fought down my desire and put my hand on Loki's chest, pushing him away. He allowed me to. His smile was all promise though. My body flushed again at the remembrance of his strong feel.
I can show you things your Magnus hasn't dreamed of,
his green eyes seemed to whisper. 

I shuddered and clenched my hand tight about the sword. I brought up my blade. This time, I wouldn't let him push it to the side. I would be strong.

“What do you want with me?” I demanded. “Besides to speak such nonsense.”

“Why to answer your questions, Valkyrie. You have been thrust into this world by Odin without instruction or guidance.”

“What?” I demanded. “What do you mean? Odin didn't thrust me here.”

“How do you think you crossed over?” Loki asked with a smile. “Who do you think plucked you from the street and cast you into Utgard? You didn't think it was random chance?”

“I...” My eyebrows furrowed. Why would Owen do this to me? He was such a sweet, old man. He was sad, almost broken by age. It was hard to think of him as a god. As Odin. “You're lying.”

“I never lie.”

“Except you said you do.”

“Was that a lie?” he asked with a smile.

“Why would he do that? He's my friend. He wouldn't put me here?”

“Odin is friend to no one,” laughed Loki. “Not to you, and certainly not to me.”

“But...you're his son, right? Or adopted son?”

Loki's face tightened and then he groaned. “Yes, those comic book movies. They certainly tried to catch my style, but they really failed in so many other areas. I am no man or god or giant's son. I am Loki. I have no origin. I have no beginning or end. I am the righter of balance, the tipper of scales, the tosser of dice.”

“No. Odin wouldn't strand me here,” I repeated. “I know him. He's a nice man.”

“Nice. What an interesting word to describe the God of Battles. Even a tyrant can be affable while sipping coffee in a cozy cafe.”

My eyes narrowed. “No. You're trying to turn me against Odin. I'm a Valkyrie. I, like, work for him.”

“Your parents worked for him, and that didn't stop Fenrir from devouring their bodies.”

“Odin came and protected me,” I declared, my anger growing. My memories were mostly back of that dreadful day. “He stopped Fenrir from devouring me, too.”

“Because he has need of you. Your parents had served their purpose. They brought you into the world. They weren't necessary any longer.”

“What does that mean?” I stepped forward, the point of my sword an inch from his suit. “Speak.”

“You are special, Raven. You need a friend. Someone who can reveal the lies that surround you.”

My lip curled. “And that's you?”

“Of course. Odin doesn't want you to know that you are different from the other Valkyrie. But why else has he spent all that time in the coffee shop watching you? Do you think you're his only servant? Do you think a god has better things to devote his time to than sitting in a cafe?”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “I...no. You are a liar. I can't trust what you say.”

“I never said you could.”

Why did that grin have to be so confident? So perfect?

“If you really want to help me, then tell me how to get out of Utgard and return to home. To Midgard. Otherwise, stop telling me such lies. Odin is my friend. He wouldn't send me here. What would be the point?”

“To test you. To see if you really are special. He may not tell you about the prophecy, but he believes it. Now he has to prove it. Once he does, he will use you to further his own power. It is disgusting how he treats his Valkyrie. If you were mine, you would never suffer such grief. You would have grown up with your parent's love instead of passed from foster family to foster family like some unwanted fruit cake.” 

I so wanted to believe him. I so wanted to believe I was special, but I couldn't. This could all be a trick. I knew Owen. He wouldn't do this to me. What if it was Loki that stranded me here? What if this was all a game he played? A way to seduce me.

The hunger in his eyes was obvious. If I let my guard down, I would be taken right here in the kitchen. A part of me, a hungry ache in my depths, even begged for it. But I couldn't. I loved Magnus. I wouldn't betray him with someone so untrustworthy.

“Get out of here,” I hissed. “I think you did this to us. You brought us here. Magnus is angry. He'll tear you apart if he finds you. I'll tell him you're to blame.”

Loki smiled. “I have never wished you ill, Raven. Have you ever seen the International Fountain?”

“The one at the Space Needle?” I frowned.

“If you want to go home, you need to get to it. A root of the Yggdrasil ends at that fountain. It's the bridge you need. You have to ride the tree's root to get back home.”

My eyebrows furrowed. Was he lying? Could he be telling the truth, or was this a prank? He was a trickster. A sexy, hunky trickster.

No. Keep it together.

Loki stuck his hand in his pocket and came out with a set of keys dangling on a chain. One was long, like a car key, but the other was a short, tubular barrel. He tossed them at me. I caught them with my left hand, my right keeping the sword pointed at him.

Loki strolled out of the kitchen. He turned around the corner. I heard two footsteps then nothing.

Swallowing, I walked forward, my rope dragging the box of supplies after me across the linoleum. I reached the doorway and looked for him. He was gone. I frowned, my eyes scanning, my ears listening.

Outside, snow crunched. The door knob rattled. I turned, sword brandished, as it opened.

Magnus entered. I sighed in relief and let the sword vanish.

“Jumpy?” he asked as he strolled to me, caked snow falling off his jeans and boots.

“Yes,” I nodded.

His eyes glanced at the rope tied about my waist. “And, uh, that is an unusual belt?”

I hugged him and reminded myself for which man my body should be burning. The one I could trust.

Chapter Thirteen

Magnus

“What happened?” I asked her.

“There was someone in here,” she answered. “Loki.”

A tingle ran up my arms; I knew that name. “Did he do anything to you?”

“We just...talked.” I swallowed. “He wasn't scared of my sword or anything.”

“What did he say?”

Raven bit her lip. “Well, uh, lots of stuff about how he couldn't be trusted and, well, that we could get back home by visiting the International Fountain at the Space Needle.”

“The Space Needle?” My eyes narrowed. “There's something going on there. I could see when I went up to the top floor of this building. There were...sheets of light dancing through the skies around the Space Needle, like the aurora, but bursting from a plaza full of monsters.”