Mist

His naked emotion nearly undid her. “Did you really think I wouldn’t?” she asked, deliberately injecting hopelessness into her voice. “Did you think I’d let you take him on alone?”

“How poignant,” Loki said. “It seems Dainn’s feelings are not unrequited. But I thought better of you, Mist. I have you both in my hands now. One might say the game is as good as won already.”

Dainn stared fixedly at Loki’s back until Laufeyson turned to face him. “This is, after all, nowhere near the loft,” he said.

Mist didn’t understand him or the look they gave each other, but she was more concerned about how and when to make her move. She’d only get one chance, and she still had no idea if she could make the Vanir magic work.

“I’ve called Freya,” she said. “If you do anything else to me or Dainn, she’ll be pretty pissed.”

“And pour her power into you, as she did in Asbrew?” he asked. He glanced at Dainn again, smiling slightly.

He doesn’t know, Mist reminded herself. Dainn had been right. Loki still believed that power was Freya’s alone. What did he think she’d experienced when Freya had apparently “possessed” her?

It hardly mattered, as long as he thought she was incapable of fighting with anything more than her sword. All she had to do now was make him think she was helpless and trying to cover her fear with bravado. Get him off his guard and keep him there as until she found just the right moment.

Oh, yes. That was all she had to do.

“She’s coming,” Mist said. “She could be here any second.”

“And you welcome her arrival,” he said. “You truly don’t know, do you?”

Mist bit back her desire to ask him what he meant. “I know you’re not ready to face her again, Slanderer.”

“You misjudge me,” Loki said, his lips compressing into a hard line. “But then, so did your lover.”

“Dainn?” Mist laughed, hiding her shock. “Where did you get that idea? I’m here because he’s my mother’s ally, and mine.”

“A very pitiful company,” Loki said.

“Maybe, but you’re bleeding allies right and left yourself. I assume Dainn discussed your attack on the loft?”

“Must we go through this again?” Loki asked. “I authorized no attack.”

“You’re a liar.”

“Ask Dainn. He believes me.”

She glanced at the elf. Dainn met her gaze without blinking. He did believe Loki, crazy as it seemed.

Later she’d get an explanation from him. If they survived.

“Maybe he does,” she admitted. “But you’re still facing a little problem, aren’t you, Slanderer?” Mist said, rubbing the fading bruise on her cheek. “How many Jotunar have you got to spare? The bridges are closed, and you’re going to lose a lot more giants before you figure out how to open them again. If you ever do.”

Loki leaned over her, bracing his arms to either side of her head. His breath was hot on her face.

“If you know something useful,” he said, “I may spare your life.”

“You’ll kill us anyway, if that’s your intention,” Mist said. “But you won’t stop Freya from fighting you. We’re not as irreplaceable as you seem to think.”

“I doubt you can be replaced,” Loki said. “After all, you are her—”

Mist caught a flash of movement behind Loki, and suddenly Dainn was on top of him. It didn’t take long for the Jotunar to grab him, peel him off Laufeyson’s back, and throw him against the wall. Dainn slid to the ground and lay where he fell, unable to resist the giants when they dragged him to his feet and pinned him against the wall by his collar.

The distraction— if that was Dainn’s purpose—worked perfectly. Loki left Mist, strode to Dainn, and struck him hard across the face.

“You never learn, do you?” Loki said. “You have no bargaining chips left, my Dainn. Not even that thing that shares your mind.”

Mist shifted very slowly, careful not to let Loki or the Jotunar observe her movement. That thing that shares your mind, Loki had said. So Dainn had let it loose in hopes of killing their enemy, just as she’d believed all along.

“I see that you do know about the creature inside him,” Loki said to Mist over his shoulder.

“Yes.”

“And yet you trust him?”

“It doesn’t bother me at all.”

She tried to catch Dainn’s eye again, but he was staring into Loki’s face. “Mist is right,” he said. “Freya will not be deterred by our deaths.”

Loki pressed so close to Dainn that their lips almost touched. “I may let you live, if you agree to serve me. In every way.”

“Let her go, and I agree.”

“Let her go?” Loki stroked Dainn’s cheek where he had struck him. “I think I would be wiser to hold her hostage to ensure Freya’s good behavior. And yours. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” Dainn said thickly, as if he could barely force the words from his throat. “Hold her prisoner, but do not harm her.”

Loki kissed Dainn gently on the lips. “It will be as if we had never parted.”

Mist looked away. She had understood that he and Dainn had worked closely together before Dainn had recognized his error and tried to warn the Aesir. But she had never expected this.

They had obviously been far more than partners in a supposed attempt to establish a lasting peace. And though Dainn’s hatred of Loki was clear in every line of his body, Laufeyson still wanted him. Dainn would submit to keep her alive.

There was a heaviness in Mist’s chest—anger, grief, a profound sense of loss. But with those feelings came that sense of half-familiar power gathering inside her—that same magic she had turned against Dainn in the loft and again, less successfully, in the gym—an instinctive awareness of the elements around her, of ancient forces at work in her body. And slowly, slowly, the tattoo around her wrist began to come alive.

It was like a battery recharging. She still had no idea if she could control the magic, but she knew, even without understanding her certainty, that she couldn’t succeed if she didn’t give the magic time to build to the highest level her mind could accept.

She had to buy more time. She didn’t know if Loki was still susceptible to Freya’s presence in spite of his claims to the contrary, but it was worth a try.If it would help her keep him guessing until she was ready . . .

“Are you sure this is what you want, Slanderer?” she asked, gathering Freya’s mantle of honey, sex, and primroses about herself. Loki spun around. Dainn slumped back to the floor as Mist draped her body seductively over the couch and smiled every so gently. “Mist,” Loki said, his lip curling. “What ever you’re playing at, you can give it up now.”

Mist looked around the room. “Mist? I don’t see her. Perhaps she’s hiding behind the draperies?”

With an angry laugh, Loki strode to the couch. He grabbed the collar of Mist’s jacket and hauled her up.

“Do you seriously think I’d believe you’re Freya?” he demanded. “Don’t you think I can tell the difference?”

She let him hold her up, pliable as a silken ribbon, and linked her arms around his neck. “You are always so sure of yourself, Laufeyson. But sometimes even you are wrong.”

Pushing even the thought of revulsion out of her mind, she kissed him. His arms tightened around her, and he thrust his tongue inside her mouth. She responded as ardently as she once had with Eric.

Abruptly Loki let her go and threw her back onto the couch. “Try that again, Mist,” he said, “and I’ll make both of you suffer.”

“Are you sure you can?” Mist asked, stretching her arms above her head. “Why don’t you try and find out?”

Something in her act must have worked, because Loki hesitated. And while he did, Dainn spoke in her