Eye of the Beholder

I’ve been doing the thinking.”

“Oh, that’s where that burning rubber smell came from.”

Jeff just stared at Jamie until she sniffed and turned away. “If anyone will know the truth of the prophecy, won’t it be the Norns?”

Travis blinked. “Fuck. Why didn’t I think of that?”

Jeff pointed. “Brain. Crotch.” He threw up his hands in a see? gesture.

Travis growled.

Jamie rolled her eyes. She so did not need the two of them turning into cavemen right now. “What the hell are Norns?”

“Like the three Fates of Greek mythology, the Norns who sit at the base of Yggdrasil are said to hold sway over the fates of men. Verdandi, Skuld and Urd might be able to tell us what is about to happen, but they’ve been known to exact a terrible price for their knowledge.” Travis stroked his beard while he thought. “Let me talk to the others, see who’s willing to take on the trip.”

“Why not you?”

He looked down at Jamie and smiled. “I have more important things to take on.”

“On that note, I cordially invite you to leave my bedroom and go to your own.” Jeff opened the door and bowed. “Feel free to leave Vincente on the screen while you’re at it.”

Jamie leaned forward and hugged the screen, wincing a little as she did so. “Mine!”

“Nope.” Travis scooped her out of the chair, ignoring her outraged squawk. He carried her out the door, winking at Jeff as he did so. “Mine.”

Jamie stared up at the bearded face above her. “Travis, what the hell is going on?” She could hear her voice rising on each word and knew she was this close to shrieking.

He smiled that lopsided smile of his. “What do you mean?”

The smug male look on his face had her growling. “You know exactly what I mean. Calling me sweetheart. Checking up on me when I went into the office. Sucky-face. The caveman routine. But most especially the sucky- face.”

“Oh. That.”

“Yes, that.”

He placed her on the bed, settling her against the pillows. Then he began tugging on her T-shirt.

“Well, that was me staking my claim.”

She grabbed the hem of her shirt and hung on for dear life. If she’d had both hands she might even have managed to stop him. As it was the shirt was soon on the floor. She crossed her arms over her chest, determined to keep her bra and her dignity. “How romantic. Where were you planning on planting your flag?”

The hot look he shot her had her gulping. “Where do you think I should plant it?”

She crossed her legs, smiling when he laughed. She placed her hand against his chest when he began tugging on her pants. He stopped instantly when she winced. “Travis?”

“Hmm?” He pulled her other hand away from her chest, pouting when she covered herself again with her free hand.

“Before we get to the naked, don’t you think we should talk?”

He stared at her blankly, his pupils dilating. She could actually see the white mist creeping across the blue.

She smacked him in the side of the head with one of those weird oblong pillows people liked to put on their bed for decoration but never actually used other than to bop other people upside the head.

The white receded. Unfortunately— fortunately her traitorous body whispered— that left him free to unsnap the front clasp of her bra. “Travis.”

“Talk is overrated.” He gave her his best innocent look, snickering when she rolled her eyes. “Okay. I was only planning on getting you into your nightgown. Trust me, you’re not up for what I have in mind.”

“Suuure you were.”

He reached beneath her pillow and pulled out a blue silky nightgown. She didn’t recognize it. “For you.”

She took the nightgown, stunned that he would get her such a gift. Then she saw the tag.

“Vera Wang? ”

“You like it?”

She looked up into his hopeful face. “It’s sheer.”

“I know.”

She thumped him on the thigh. “Travis. ”

“Fine.” He got her plain cotton nightgown out of her dresser drawer. “Here.”

He sounded so put-upon she nearly giggled. She’d done entirely too much of that recently. It made her sound like a chipmunk on speed. “Turn around.”

“Do I have to?”

She stifled the urge to shake her head. The Norse God of Justice is pouting in my bedroom. “It’s either that or you can leave.”

He pressed a quick, hard kiss to her lips. “You drive a hard bargain.” He turned his back on her, his hand on his hip.

“No peeking.”

His shoulders shook.

She got out of her clothes as quickly as she could with a broken wrist and a bum leg. She threw on the nightgown, grumbling when she got tangled up in it. Her head popped out of the top to find Travis, his back still turned toward her, but his head turned toward…

“That’s cheating.”

“I did not once turn around to look at you.”

“You didn’t tell me you could see me in the mirror.”

“You told me not to peek. You said nothing about watching what I could already see.” He pulled his shirt over his head, the smooth muscles of his back rippling beneath her fascinated gaze. He turned around, giving her a view of mouth-watering chest, and undid his jeans, sliding them to the floor, exposing his blue silk boxers. He picked up his clothes and carried them to the chair in the corner, throwing them over the arm before turning back to the bed. “Comfortable?”

With wet panties? Not really. She crawled under the covers, his near-nudity almost distracting her from the pain of her movements.

He went to the other side of the bed, settling in next to her.

“What are you doing?”

He looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Going to bed.”

She had the feeling that if she tried to kick him out she’d have an argument on her hands. And, really, did she want to kick him out? She eyed his powerful shoulders. Could she kick him out? The man was a god. Was he into the whole divine retribution thing? She said nothing as he pulled the covers up, but she could feel him watching her. He propped the pillows behind his head, sitting up partially. “Okay. Talk.”

Now that he was staring at her, ready to answer her questions, she had no idea where to start.

He smiled. “Yes, I’m really Tyr. Over a millennium ago, Odin declared war on the Vanir. I thought at the time that what he was after were the skills of the Dokk Alfar, but what he was really after was Idunn and her apples. If I’d known then what I know now, Odin and his Aesir would never have laid a single hand on them. I would have burned them to the ground myself.”

“What do the apples do? I mean, why are they so important to him?” She rolled over, resting her head on her arm, watching him.

“The apples make even the gods susceptible to suggestion. Combined with Odin’s own ability to confuse the mind, they made him nearly irresistible. He used them to control the remaining Vanir, the Lios and Dokk Alfar and the Aesir. He had us all convinced that Idunn’s apples were necessary to our immortality. I knew better, deep