Mist

“You didn’t make much of an effort to hide your trail,” she said.

“Your magic never amounted to much, nor did I have anything to fear from you should you find me . . . as our meeting here has proven.” He took a very small sip of the wine and held it on his tongue. “Amusing, isn’t it, that you thought ‘Eric’ might not be able to handle the truth about you?”

“The Eric I knew was a good man,” she said, edging toward Kettlingr. “Who would have thought you’d have it in you to play someone so completely the opposite of what you are?”

“I was rather good, wasn’t I?” he said. His brow wrinkled in perplexity that was almost convincing. “But how do you know how different I am? I don’t believe we ever met in Asgard.”

Mist gauged the distance to her sword out of the corner of her eye. “Your reputation precedes you,” she said. “No one in any of the Homeworlds was spared the tales of your ‘exploits.’ Especially since you wouldn’t let anyone forget them.”

Loki put on an expression of patently false hurt feelings. “I’m not surprised you think so ill of me, but you haven’t given me much of a chance.”

“I gave you six months, Laufeyson,” she said. “But you knew if you ever let me see your true nature, the game would be up.”

“Game? That implies some measure of equality between the two parties playing it. I could have taken Gungnir any time.”

“But something stopped you.” She was only a couple of feet from Kettlingr now. “If I’m as weak as you say, how did I get through your cohorts outside?”

“Ah, Mist,” he said, grinning again. “Do you actually believe I didn’t instruct them to let you through?”

“I think you forgot to tell Hrimgrimir that.”

“He can be . . . shall we say, a little overenthusiastic.”

“You might have trouble with him later if you don’t keep him in line.”

“Your concern for me is touching. However, since you have come here alone with no hope of prevailing, I think it is your well-being we must consider.”

Mist weighed Loki’s words. He spoke as if he believed she’d come alone, so either he didn’t know the Aesir’s messenger was with her in Asbrew or he simply didn’t care. That put paid to the theory that Dainn’s arrival, anonymous or otherwise, had convinced Loki to move when he did. Or perhaps Hrimgrimir had simply reported that the elf he had met in the park was no threat to him, and a rank coward to boot.

So, for that matter, was Vidarr, if he had let Loki take him. She moved another few inches sideways and looked at Odin’s son, barely able to conceal her contempt.

“How long has this been going on?” she asked. “Did you know Loki was in Midgard?”

“Let us give him some credit, my dear,” Loki said with a faint smile in Vid’s direction. “He was as fully blind as you were until I opened his eyes. Odin’s son saw the wisdom in reaching a certain understanding with me.”

“What understanding?”

“Why, to keep his interfering nose out of my affairs.”

“And your ‘affairs’ are the Treasures.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “Ah,” he said. “The elf told you, did he? Hrimgrimir was quite certain he had killed the Alfr, but I gather he managed to survive after all.” He glanced toward the door. “Where is he now, I wonder?”

“I don’t need him.”

“That useful, was he?”

“Do you know who he is?” Mist asked.

“Should I?” Loki said, taking another sip of the wine. “Is he significant in some way?”

“I’ve never seen him before,” Mist said, quite truthfully.

“And now he has abandoned you.” Loki clucked his tongue. “What can Freya have been thinking when she sent an elf to do a god’s work? Only more proof of how weak she is. Of course, it’s clear none of the Aesir knew I was here at all.”

His dismissive attitude was just what Mist wanted to encourage. She knew she had a small window of opportunity to make use of Loki’s legendary ego.

“You do seem to have all the advantages,” she said, adjusting her position against the wall so that she could grab Kettlingr the moment Loki was distracted. “How did you hide yourself so well?”

He touched the side of his long, rather elegant nose. “A magician never reveals his secrets, and I am somewhat more than a magician. Let us say that the gods make a habit of underestimating me, to their lasting regret.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re not really quite a god yourself.”

Green eyes narrowed, flaring around the edges with the dancing light of flame that was barely metaphorical. “I am more than a god.”

“In that case,” she said, “why did you stay with me so long, when, as you said, you could have taken Gungnir any time? Was it because you couldn’t find the other Treasures on your own? Did you think I could help you?”

She could see that she’d hit the target by the way Loki tried to hide his scowl. “You overestimate your value to me.”

“Overestimate, underestimate. Confusing, isn’t it?” She slid down into a crouch. “You’re not going to be able to hide yourself now. I wouldn’t want to be in your flying shoes when she comes after you.”

Loki’s fingers tightened on the stem of the glass. “What good is the Sow without her body?”

Mist had heard all the stories about Loki’s unrequited lust for the Goddess of Love. Loki wasn’t nearly as sanguine about Freya as he wanted Mist to believe. And the Lady had far more magic available to her than the seductive, irresistible curves of her voluptuous body.

“In all the stories I’ve heard about you,” Mist said, “you always make the same mistake. You assume your enemies are too stupid to keep up with you.”

Abruptly Loki seemed to relax. He laughed the way Eric used to, with sunny good nature and easy confidence.

“Do you think I’m so eager to destroy them that I will make such mistakes?” he asked. He set his glass on the desk and stroked the front of his jacket like a peacock preening its breast feathers. “Asgard is no more. The time of the Aesir is over. Midgard survives, but it is in dire need of change. The mortals have yet to learn the meaning of true freedom.” He grinned. “Fortunately, they now have me.”

5

“What change?” Mist asked, sweat trickling from under her hairline and rolling down her temple.

“Oh,” Loki said, arching a brow. “Can it be the elf didn’t explain the situation after all?”

“I got the idea that you wanted to take over the world,” Mist said, slowly reaching toward Kettlingr.

“You do me a disservice,” Loki said. He yawned behind his hand. “I fear the elf may have been withholding certain information from you in an effort to win your cooperation. But perhaps it doesn’t concern you that soon this world will become a battlefield, winner take all.”

“I know.” Her fingers closed around the hilt. Still Loki didn’t seem to notice.

“I wonder if you can envision how it will happen,” Loki said. “Do you believe the Aesir will tread lightly on this earth, benevolently sparing the creatures here any inconvenience? Do you think they will be better than I?”

“When have you ever cared about the well-being of men?” she asked.

“When it serves me.”

“How does it serve you now? You never took any interest in mortals. They were always beneath your notice. Now here you are, lording it over a bar in an unsavory neighborhood.” She smiled mockingly. ‘How are you fallen from heaven, O star of the morning, son of the dawn!’ ”

Loki returned her smile, but it was more than a little pinched. “Do not mistake me for the Christians’ Satan.