Mist

guests who had reserved the Presidential Suite would not be at all put out if Loki took the rooms instead. He ordered room service with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot Cave Privee Rose, 1978, kicked off his shoes, and lay back on the bed, listening to the rush of traffic far below his window.

There was one thing that still puzzled him. He still didn’t understand why Dainn hadn’t tried to kill him. He would have defeated Dainn in a head-to-head match, of course, but he knew that the elf was capable of very human emotions, including an irrational and reckless anger that had become all the more deadly under the influence of the beast.

Yet Freya trusted him. She must expect him to protect Mist. Why hadn’t he come to Mist’s direct aid in Asbrew?

Because he fears me, Loki thought. He closed his eyes as a fresh rush of bubbles slid over his tongue. He fears me because he once loved me, and he can never forgive himself.

That was one very pleasant thought. So was the memory of how easily he’d gotten the better of Odin’s son. No, Vidarr would be no trouble. He, too, was afraid.

Still, as much as it galled him, Loki knew he must be patient a little longer. Considering that he’d found several of the bridges closed since he’d taken Gungnir—closed for no reason he could yet determine—he couldn’t be sure how soon he would be able to bring more Jotunar into Midgard.

Once his alliances with Briggs and with mortals of a lower and more violent sort were fully established, he would be able to buy himself more time. Tomorrow his new headquarters would be ready for occupation, the apartment fully furnished to his specifications, the conference room ready for meetings, offices prepared for the employees he was already beginning to accumulate. Freya still had a great deal of catching up to do. And long as she maintained her own mind, Mist would try to come after him. Dainn would try to stop her. But if he failed . . .

Loki licked his lips. Then, Lady Sow, he thought, we shall see who determines the fate of Midgard.

* * *

Dainn was standing over Mist’s bed when she woke.

She nearly jumped out of her skin, snatching for Kettlingr on the bedside table.

“Skita,” she swore, putting the knife down again. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Vali is at the door,” he said, his face expressionless. “What time is it?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

“Nearly nine o’clock.”

Mist swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I didn’t know I’d slept that long.”

The elf regarded her out of eyes nested in circles as dark as his hair. He still wore Vid’s clothes, which hung on his body like deflated airbags.

“The kids?” she asked.

“Sleeping.”

“I’ll check on them later. Take a shower while I’m talking to Vali.

You need it.”

Backing away silently, Dainn left the room. She wondered briefly if she’d offended him and dismissed the thought as irrelevant. Sparing his pride was not high on her list of priorities.

Vali was waiting in the kitchen. The burly blond was sober—a very good sign—but his expression was grave.

“Sorry I couldn’t get away earlier,” he said. “I didn’t want Vidarr to know I had urgent business. He would’ve been suspicious.”

Indeed he would have, Mist thought. The only urgent business Vali ever had was with a bottle. At least, until now.

Mist poured herself a glass of water. “You weren’t able to talk to him?”

“Nope. He’s avoided me ever since you and the elf left Asbrew. I think you really surprised him, Mist.”

“Surprise” wasn’t really the way Mist would have described Vid’s reaction. “I have a few things to tell you. Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked.

“Same as you’re having.” He smiled and sat down at the table.

“I’m jumping on the wagon.”

Mist wanted to hug the old bear. “Good. I’ll be needing you to think clearly.”

She gave him a brief account of the teenagers’ strange arrival and what little she knew of them. Vali made all the appropriate noises of surprise and concern.

“What are you going to do with them?” he asked when she was finished.

“Not sure yet. But there’s something more important I need to discuss with you. Remember when I told you I was going to need your help?”

Vali blinked at her. “You really need me?”

“Desperately.” She filled a glass from a bottle of spring water in the fridge and set it in front of Vali. “You’ve always been sharp—

smarter than Vidarr in most ways—and you’ve never gotten the credit for it.”

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

“You understand what Loki is planning, Val? What’s really at stake?”

“Sure. Loki wants to take over the world.”

“And are you okay that Dainn will be working with me? Can you accept someone your brother called a traitor?”

Vali shrugged. “I figure you wouldn’t have anything to do with him if he were as bad as they say. Freya trusts him, I guess.

Maybe he made mistakes, like he said, but everyone needs a second chance.”

Bless you, Mist thought, relieved that she’d judged Vali correctly.

“Thanks,” she said. “As for your part in this . . . I remember how good you were with computers. I seem to recall that you did a little hacking back in the nineties.”

Staring down at his glass, Vali shook his head. “It was just showing off. Mainly practical jokes, nothing really harmful. I wanted to prove I was better at something than Vid was.”

“Well, what you’ll be doing now—if you agree—is hacking for a vital purpose. We need to find the other Valkyrie and the Treasures before Loki does, and you can help us do that.”

Vali looked up, surprise and speculation in his eyes. “You really don’t know where they are?”

“No. They could be anywhere. We’ll need access to databases in every part of the world—and not just the publicly accessible ones—so we can look for clues that might lead us to them.”

Rising abruptly, Vali floundered about the kitchen like a boar in a birdcage. “Odin’s bloody eye,” he swore. “You’re talking about stuff like banking accounts, personnel files, phone records—”

“And a lot more, including national and international security organizations, if we have to go that far. I hope we won’t. Wherever they are, my Sisters have been living in Midgard as long as I have.

They’ve adapted, as I have. They all have lives that can be traced.”

“Do you have any idea what that would involve?” Vali asked.

“They’ve probably moved around, just like you did before you came here. Maybe you kept your real name, but do you think the others have? Especially after dozens of mortal lifetimes?”

“We’ll work out some parameters for the search, like references to names or objects associated with what mortals regard as Norse mythology.”

“Do you think the other Valkyrie would have used their Treasures?”

“I don’t know.” She watched Loki pace from one end of the kitchen to the other. “Look, Val, I know it’s not going to be easy, and it may take time, maybe even months—”

“Months?” Vali laughed. “More like centuries.”

“Maybe not. When you used to hack, did you ever use magic?” Flushing, Vali thumped against the counter like a pinball finally coming to rest. “Sometimes,” he stammered. “I figured out a few tricks. But I always thought it was cheating, so—”