Mist

He stared at her as if she’d spoken in the tongue of the Dokkalfar, the dark elves who, like most of the Dvergar, had attempted without success to remain neutral during the Last Battle.

“My help?” he asked, his mouth twisting with mockery. “I seem to remember you didn’t take my advice about the Jotunar who invaded my bar.”

Curse the arrogant bastard. She didn’t have time for this. “We got rid of them, didn’t we?”

“ ‘We.’ ” Vidarr wiped his mouth as if he’d tasted something foul. “You mean that nidingr is still with you?”

Nidingr, the foulest insult one of the Norse—or Aesir—could call another, reserved for cowards, oathbreakers, and those without honor.

But Mist didn’t try to defend Dainn’s reputation. Speaking of him at all would make things worse.

“Look, Vidarr,” she said in as humble a voice as she could manage, “Hrimgrimir and a couple other Jotunar attacked the loft very early this morning and almost hurt a couple of kids staying with me.”

He didn’t look very surprised, and certainly not upset. “Huh. I never knew you liked kids,” he said, as if that were the primary subject of her statement. He cocked his head. “Wonder what Scar- lip wanted with you so soon? He seemed pretty scared of the bitchgoddess when he left. And he has Gungnir already.”

Since Dainn had always been convinced that Freya had come to help Mist in Asbrew, Mist saw no reason to suggest otherwise. And telling him about Ryan was out of the question. “We knew his fear wouldn’t last,” she said. “Loki reacted a little more quickly than we expected. He was obviously testing to see if we’d be ready for another attack.”

“I guess you weren’t.”

He wasn’t giving her any choice but to tell him part of the truth. “Dainn killed all three of the Jotunar.”

Vidarr’s brows shot up. “Him? How?”

“With one of my swords.”

“It seems our little traitor has more secrets than you suspected.”

“The point is that he killed them. But I don’t want Loki to think he can get away with this again.”

“So why are you coming to me? Why not ask Mama to help you out again?”

“She has plenty of other things going on right now. This is something I can take care of myself.”

“How?” Vidarr said, idly scratching his jaw. “You going to negotiate with him? Threaten him with Freya’s big tits when she’s not even around to watch your back?”

“I’ve got magic of my own, Vid, a lot more than you’d be willing to believe.”

“The elf teach you?”

“That’s not important now. I’m the one who has to handle Freya’s end of the fight until she’s able to come herself.”

“And the traitor? If he’s so good at fighting, why isn’t he with you now?”

“He has other important things to do.”

“I’ll bet.” Vidarr leaned against the pockmarked wooden counter and folded his arms across his broad chest. “I don’t care what magic you think you have, you’re committing suicide. You’ll never be able to stand against Loki if you challenge him on his own ground.”

“Where is that ground, Vid?”

“What makes you think I know?” He barked a laugh. “Don’t tell me. My idiot brother. He thought I wouldn’t notice he was sneaking around.” Vidarr leaned toward Mist, his eyes almost as chill as Hrimgrimir’s. “I don’t know what he’s doing for you, but he’s simple as a child, and he’s always been in love with you.”

Gods, no, Mist thought. Not him, too.

“Vali isn’t as simple as you think,” she said. “Maybe he has a better idea of what’s going to happen if people like you stand on the sidelines.”

Vidarr clenched his hammer fists. “You’re walking on the edge of a very sharp blade, Mist.”

“Look, Vid. You know Loki isn’t just planning to bring more Jotunar into Midgard. What’ll happen when Fenrisulfr shows up? The monster you were supposed to kill, remember?”

Vid hawked and spat somewhere behind the bar. “After he killed Odin. You know cursed well—”

“You can still do it.” She took a step toward him, trying again to moderate her tone. “We’re facing the possible end of this world as we know it”

“What makes you think I care?”

She could hardly believe she’d heard him correctly. “Come again?”

“Why should I care what happens to this bloody world?”

“You’ve been living among mortals as long as I have,” she said. “Are you telling me you don’t give a damn about the people of Midgard?” She stood a little taller so that she could look directly into his eyes. “Why did you let Loki take you prisoner, Vid? To suffer that kind of humiliation—”

Vidarr’s face went very still. “Are you calling me a coward?”

“Coward” was, like nidingr, a slur worthy of einvigi, single combat. But Mist was well beyond caring.

“I’m saying you didn’t try to interfere when Loki was trying to kill me.”

“I saved your ass,” he snarled. “Maybe Loki was confused by the trick you pulled, but he wasn’t going to stay that way for long. If it hadn’t been for me, you’d be dead, or worse.”

And Loki had swept him aside like so much refuse.

Vidarr seemed to sense her thoughts. “I didn’t make any deals,” he snapped. “Loki threatened to kill everyone in Asbrew. I had to make him believe I was giving in.”

Mist let go of the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Then you do care.”

“These people are my customers. While they’re in Asbrew, I’m responsible for them.”

“But not for all your future customers out there?” she asked, waving her hand toward the door.

The tension in Vidarr’s shoulders eased, but there was no lessening of the hostility in his eyes. “You’re so gullible, Mist. Look at what Loki was able to do to you for six months.”

“That’s right. He managed to live in the same city as Odin’s son and fly completely under your radar.”

“You were living with him. He stole Gungnir right out from under your nose.” He laughed. “Why Odin would ever trust you with anything bigger than a toothpick I’ll never know.”

Mist wondered why they’d ever called Vidarr the Silent God.

“Okay,” she said. “You win. This is all my fault. But we can’t change what’s been done. If we don’t show some fight at the beginning, we’re setting ourselves up for a pounding before we can do anything to counter Loki’s forces.”

“You think you have the right to give orders?”

“I’m not trying to give orders. I didn’t ask to be Freya’s daughter. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

Vidarr cut the air with his hand in a gesture of angry dismissal. “Quit your whining. If you want my help, get rid of the elf.”

“You know I can’t do that, Vid.”

Vidarr turned on his heel and strode for the back room. Mist jogged after him.

“If you can’t stand up to your father’s greatest enemy,” she said, “just say it. You can go back to running this shithole and getting drunk with Vali while Midgard falls. You might not even notice.”

He swung around, his heavy blond brows nearly meeting over his eyes.

“The only thing that’s stopping me from teaching you a lesson,” he said, “is that you’re a woman. You and Freya used female tricks to defeat Loki, but they won’t work on me. Next time you won’t be so lucky.”

Mist knew it was much too late to be humble, and her kind of persuasion obviously wasn’t working. “At least tell me where he is, Vid,” she said. “You don’t care what happens to me, so you have no reason to keep it to yourself.”

“I told you my price.”

“And I won’t pay it. What else will you accept?”

She regretted the words as soon as she’d spoken them, but she knew it was too late when Vidarr favored her with the kind of grin some women actually found attractive.

“Gungnir,” he said.