Dark Desire (4 page)

As Loki listened to the Aesirean prattle on about the All-Father, he was smugly pleased that at least some things hadn’t changed. The gods still liked to gossip, and Odin was still their favorite topic of conversation.

Leaning casually against the hot dog cart the guy was working from, Loki asked, “So you heard he’s in Chicago?” He had changed his appearance slightly just in case anyone recognized him.

The god loaded a dog with relish and handed it to the human waiting in line. “Yeah. That’s what I heard.”

“Why would he go there?” Loki took his first bite of the hot dog in his hand, finding the flavors and sensations unexpectedly pleasant. He chewed thoughtfully, waiting for the Aesir to answer.

Running the sleeve of his shirt underneath his nose, the god shrugged and looked out at the unseasonably sunny Boston day. “He was only staying here because Frigg was here. But now that she’s dead, why would he hang around?”

“His Valkyries?” Loki quizzed.

The god barked out a laugh. “Odin hasn’t been in Bryn’s good graces for a very long time. I doubt he’d hang around for them.”

Loki thought about that for a moment, but dismissed the idea. Odin would never leave Bryn unprotected—not when she was the key to his very survival. But that little titbit wasn’t public knowledge. If the All-Father were in Chicago, it wouldn’t be for an extended stay. He would come back to Boston … unless he had a
very
good reason not to.

“So what’s in Chicago?” Loki asked casually, wiping his fingers with a paper napkin and dumping his rubbish into the small bin attached to the cart.

“His son is,” the god replied, taking out a warmed bun for his next customer. Turning to Loki he added, “Thor is there.”

Loki let the words sink in. He couldn’t believe how single-minded he’d been. He’d been going after Odin by taking away all those he loved. His wife was gone. Six out of ten of his Valkyries were dead. But Thor was still alive. How could he have overlooked the god of thunder? Thor had been present at Loki’s imprisonment, had taken pleasure in his pain, had laughed along with his father as Loki writhed in agony.

Contemplating the information carefully, Loki walked away from the Aesir, already planning how he could possibly use Thor against the All-Father. Loki still wanted Bryn first, especially after she had escaped him last time. But if he should fail in a second attempt, the All-Father’s most favored son would be the perfect substitute.

Knowing that preparedness was the key to a well-executed plan, Loki faded away from Boston Common. The vibration ran through his whole body for mere seconds, and then he was standing in the vast, modern, steel-and-glass city of Chicago. Not knowing where to begin, Loki started walking, keeping his eyes and senses open for anything that might lead him to Thor or Odin.

It wasn’t until nightfall that he stumbled across a building that had been shielded from human sight with very old Vanir magic. Standing across the road, hidden in shadows, Loki watched light elves and giants, Aesirean gods and dwarves enter the establishment, all without drawing any attention from the humans sharing the sidewalk with them.

Changing his features subtly, Loki ensured he looked like a demigod of some description by changing his green eyes to brown, and lengthening and darkening his blond hair until it brushed against his shoulders.

Satisfied with his ubiquitous appearance, Loki crossed the road and pushed open the door. Stepping into Ice was like stepping back into the past. The bar was run by the very ice giant who had helped Odin imprison Loki all those years ago. It was her snake that had been used to torture and torment him while his mind had rotted away in that cave. It had been her who walked away, mourning the loss of her serpent rather than the eternity of pain and agony she had condemned him to.

For an ice giant, she was beautiful, but the last time Loki had seen her, she had not had the albino serpent tattoos covering both her arms and disappearing into the short sleeves of her shirt.

It appeared that time had changed her, too.

Loki walked further inside, taking a seat near the back of the bar, making sure he could see the entire floor and all its occupants. All the races of the Nine Worlds were there, talking and drinking together. On occasion, he saw one of the Aesir he had known before his imprisonment, but it was one of the gods that caught and held his attention longer than any other.

Tyr was drowning himself in a tankard of ale. Seeing his stump lying motionless on the table beside his cup made Loki smile. He remembered the day Tyr had lost his hand very well indeed …

After observing everything, and taking note of everyone’s location in the building, Loki made his way over to a group of gods who were playing pool on the opposite side of the bar. There were four of them altogether, and from what he could tell, they were all Aesireans. Loki stopped a dozen feet from the table, his shoulder resting against the wall casually.

“We’re almost done with our game, buddy,” one of them said, the echo of his shot still resonating around the room.

Loki pushed off the wall and approached the men. “I don’t want to play. I need to ask you all a few questions.”

Another man in the group chalked the end of his cue before lining up his shot. The white ball cracked into the solid green, sending it rolling into a corner pocket. “What kind of questions?” he asked, looking up from his shot.

“About … Odin,” Loki replied, gently testing the waters. All four men stopped what they were doing and stared at him. Then they began laughing at him. Confused, Loki asked, “What’s so funny?”

One of them stopped laughing long enough to say, “The All-Father is nothing but a joke now. I’m not even sure he’s still alive anymore.”

Loki’s rage kindled within him. Odin might not be as powerful as he had been, and he was Loki’s mortal enemy, but he was a god who still demanded respect. And anyone who disrespected him would feel Loki’s anger. His hands curled into fists, ready to lash out. His muscles were tensed, ready to strike, when he stopped himself. He had to control his temper. Killing four Aesireans now would not get him the information he needed.

Exhaling, he fixed them all with a hard stare. “Taking the All-Father for granted is not wise.”

The group laughed out loud again. The first man stepped forward, leaning on his pool cue with two hands. “What could he possibly do to us now, huh? He’s lost his Valkyries. He’s lost his power. Nobody believes in him anymore.” The god turned away, sliding his cue back into the rack hanging on the wall. The others did the same, all of them walking past Loki and back to the bar to order some more drinks.

Frustrated, Loki turned around and made his way to the door. He should not have brought it up so casually. He stepped out into the cool night air, resting his back against the wall beside the door. He knew Odin had to be in Chicago—especially now that he knew Thor was also there—but where was he? And who would know where to find him?

Loki was so lost in his thoughts that his head snapped up suddenly when the door opened beside him, the noise of the bar trailing out after a couple of men as they left. One was blond, the other dark-haired. Loki’s nostrils flared when the faint odor of blood carried on the breeze hit his nose, and he immediately knew what the pair were. Apart from the altercation with Bryn’s Walker while Loki was trying to snatch one of the Valkyries from the street, it had been a very long time since he’d encountered any dark elves with such undiluted blood.

“You need a woman, Rhys. You’re so close to the fucking edge right now,” the dark-haired male said to his friend, leading them away from the club, their backs to Loki.

“I’m fine, Galen” the other man replied, his voice strained, his body tense. His hands were bunched into tight fists at his sides, his shoulders hunched up. The blond—Rhys—looked over his shoulder, pinning Loki to the spot with a piercing glare, and causing Loki to lower his eyes. Pretending to study the ground intently, Loki waited until he heard their footsteps retreating, and then waited a few beats before following them.

He stayed far enough away to avoid detection, but kept them within sight. If they were Walkers as he suspected they were, he could find a use for them. Perhaps he could send them to hunt down Odin, Bryn, or even Thor.

He tracked them to the edge of Humboldt Park, then looked around, trying to figure out what they were doing. It was deserted at this time, and the only humans around looked to be either whores or drug dealers. As they walked along North Avenue, a woman in a short dress stepped into their path.

Sidestepping behind a tree, Loki listened to the exchange between human and dark elf.

“How are you doing, sugar?” the woman asked, and the stench of stale cigarettes and alcohol drifted from her body. “You looking for a good time?”

Loki waited for the Walkers’ response.

“Not me,” Galen said. Gesturing in his friend’s direction, he added, “Him.”

The whore’s eyes wandered over to Rhys, standing behind Galen and slightly to the left. She bit her lip nervously, and Loki could practically see the fear wafting from her body from where he was.

“Well?”

She searched for someone behind her for a moment, but then she seemed to shake herself, and the siren’s mask was back on again. The smile she gave Rhys was full of promises. Slinking over to him, she draped herself over his shoulders, her mouth close to his ear. Loki could see her lips moving, but couldn’t hear what she was saying.

“Do we have a deal?” the other Walker asked.

The woman looked over her shoulder at him before latching her lustful stare back on Rhys. “Oh, yes. We have a deal.”

“Fine.” The word seemed to be gritted out from between his teeth. “How much?”

“Five hundred, and believe me, I’m worth every penny.”

The woman peeled herself off Rhys and reached out her hand, her fingers curling up a few times. Galen reached into his pocket and pulled out some money, holding it in front of the human’s face. She snatched the bills out of his grasp and swiftly shoved them down the front of her dress.

Galen cocked a brow. “Aren’t you going to count it?”

The whore gave him a small shrug. “I trust you.” As she turned to lead them into the park, Loki heard Rhys utter, “You shouldn’t,” under his breath.

“We don’t have another choice,” Galen muttered in reply.

Frustrated, Rhys replied, “You don’t have to stay around for this.”

Galen rounded on him, getting up into his face. “I’m not leaving you. We’re brothers. Where you go, I go. Besides,” he paused, following the woman’s movements with his eyes, “I kind of want to see what she can do now.” He grinned at Rhys, who didn’t return the gesture. Wrapping an arm around his friend’s shoulders, Galen dragged him into the park.

Loki followed them, hearing Galen say, “It’s either this or the alternative. At least you get to have your dick sucked this way.” Rhys grunted, but allowed himself to be led away.

As they moved deeper into the park, Loki could see the woman they’d paid up ahead, leaning against a chain link fence surrounding children’s play equipment. There were a few streetlights dotted around the perimeter, but only one of them was still working, its gloomy yellow light barely illuminating a two-foot radius.

Loki found a place behind the trunk of a large oak, hiding himself but still able to watch the exchange.

“Where do you want to do this?” the woman asked, her hand reaching up to touch the bare flesh at the center of her chest.

Galen looked around, taking in the broken lights and the general emptiness of the immediate area, and replied, “Here will do.”

The whore smacked her lips together, pushing herself off the chain link fence. It groaned and rattled, the small sound echoing around the vast park. Her hips undulated under the thin fabric of her dress, as she positioned herself in front of Rhys, running her hands all over his upper body. Loki noted that the Walker looked as if he would rather be skinned alive than have her touching him. A savage, animal sound vibrated through the night air, making the woman pause for a moment to look behind her.

“What was that?” she whispered to nobody in particular, still peering into the darkness engulfing the three of them.

“It was nothing,” Galen said impatiently. “Look, you’ve been paid. Can you please get down to business?”

The woman smiled. “Of course, sugar.” Popping the gum from her mouth, she unzipped Rhys’s pants and snaked her hand inside. The Walker’s head tilted back, his eyes closing to shallow slits.

“So ready for me,” she purred throatily, staring up into Rhys’s face as he succumbed to the sensation of her hand on him.

Loki’s eyes gravitated to Galen. He had thought the Mare would be getting in on the action—after all, those who fight together tend to do everything else together—but he was hanging back, his attention not on what was happening in front of him, but rather on their surroundings.

He was detached … emotionless.

But he was expectant, too.

The woman’s contrived moans soon turned into pained gasps, and eventually desperate screams. Loki noted how Rhys’s grip tightened on her body, pinning her in place and stopping her escape. Loki wondered whether Galen would stop what was happening, what was clearly no longer a consensual act.

Instead, he waited, his head swinging to the side when a new voice warred with the high-pitched screams of the woman. Loki watched as a man dressed in baggy jeans, a sweatshirt and a baseball cap marched towards them, one hand reaching behind him. The sharp snick of metal on metal rang out into the night.

“Let my whore go!” he yelled, brandishing a weapon in front of him.

The woman stopped screaming long enough to yell out to him. “Glide! Get this bastard off—” Her words were cut off by an even louder scream than before, ragged gasping hiding her new sobs.

Rhys barely gave the human any attention, but when the pimp brought up his weapon, aiming the barrel at Rhys’s head, Galen spoke up.

“I wouldn’t interrupt him right now.” He delivered the words in a steady drawl, looking relaxed and at ease despite the fact that the pimp had a loaded gun aimed at his friend
’s 
head.