Dead Radiance(44)

We ditched the Mazda near a junkyard and walked through a deserted part of the town. A short while later we grabbed a bus into the central city, leaving the stolen car far behind.

So far we'd obeyed Fenrir's instructions not to remove any of our armor, but I just couldn't bear the thought of wearing my helmet wherever I went. I kept it with me, tucked safely within my bag. Fenrir had claimed the glamor that disguised us was foolproof, but he wasn't with us on this mission. Better safe than sorry. So we made a short detour, stopping to buy ankle-length coats, and boots to cover our leather-strapped feet. Our swords still hung from our hips, invisible beneath the glamor and our coats, ready to draw at the tiniest hint of trouble.

We needed a few more things. A quick visit to the convenience store and we left with the necessities: flashlights, gloves, flash drives, disposable cameras. Aidan bought a small cooler and fresh ice. Must be for the blood samples we were to retrieve.

Then we hid out at another motel, resting while the day passed. We'd have no chance in hell of escaping notice if we barged into the facility in broad daylight.





Chapter 34



Later that night, we hopped on a bus, got off a mile from the institute, and walked into the parking lot under cover of the darkness, breathing hard against the freezing December air.

Three stories of imposing red brick loomed ahead, its walls eerily lit by small spotlights hidden within the surrounding plant beds. Wings fluttered as Hugin flew down toward us. He'd followed the bus on an air current high overhead.

He landed on my shoulder and I shook him off. "Better for you to stay outside. In case we want to make a quick getaway. You're a bit heavy on a girl's shoulder, you know." He found a perch on a nearby sill, cocked his head and gave me a glassy-eyed blink.

We snuck around back, blood thundering in my ears as Aidan swiped his card. Images flew through my mind: alarms sounding, police swooping in, spotlights and helicopters. But nothing happened. Just the annoyed buzzing of a suicidal bug as it repeatedly flew into the dinner plate-sized light in the flowerbed nearest to us.

The little light in the security panel went from red to green and the door swished open. A darkened stairwell greeted us; emergency signs threw weak light onto the concrete stairs. I followed Aidan up to the third floor, and held my breath again as we left the stairwell and crept along a dark passage. The carpet absorbed the sound of our progress, but the various security cameras strategically placed along the way would be recording our progress for posterity. Or for Aidan's father.

We kept our heads down. I hoped our glamor was good enough to fool the cameras in case our entry was discovered and someone tried to identify the intruders. I trailed Aidan through a warren of passages until he paused at a set of double doors and swiped the card to release them.

Inside, the room was dark. We left it that way, using our flashlights to get around.

Aidan knew exactly where to go. He booted up the nearest workstation, keying in a password. While he waited, he went to a set of fridges at the back of the room, punched in another code and stared into the frigid interior, scanning row after row of labeled tubes of blood samples. At last he withdrew four tubes, shut the fridge and deposited them into the little cooler bag we'd bought.

"What are you going to do with them?"

"Get them out of here."

"I'd like to have them destroyed or thrown into the garbage," I said; the idea of my blood samples hanging around just creeped me out.

He nodded, but still sat the bag with the glass vials carefully on the floor. Why would he be so careful with it? The way he held the bag you'd think it contained some kind of lethal airborne virus or something. I snorted in silence as he returned to the computer. I leaned against a counter filled with vials and strange machines. With our flashlights switched off, darkness still shrouded most of the room, just the glare from the monitor and dials of various machines providing minimal light.

Among the deeper shadows of the room, in the far corner of the lab, a red spot glowed. It reminded me of a cigar. The spicy aroma teased my nostrils. I squinted. A shadow moved, ever so slightly. Instinct said scream but common sense countered with silence.

"I wouldn't scream if I were you," a man said, almost as if he could read my mind, and far too nonchalant for my liking.

Aidan's seat went rolling across the tiled floor, and he stood by my side in two seconds, staring at the shadow. "Who's there?"

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a knot." And he stepped from the shadows. He smiled. A mischievous smile, bordering on charming. An oily, practiced, all too self-aware charming.

"Who are you? How did you get in?" Aidan demanded. He'd locked the door behind us when we entered, a small precaution. Not wanting the open door to attract a curious late-night staffer. No other doors or windows offered entry. It seemed impossible that the intruder had been hiding in here in the shadows all along. Watching us.

"I can go where I wish, when I wish." He left the shadows, strolled toward us and had the audacity to blow cigar smoke at our faces and smile serenely. His bright blue eyes sparkled and white blond hairs stuck up in a multitude of angles at the top of his head. Broad-shouldered, tall and entirely too good looking to be trustworthy. His demeanor was designed to put us at ease, but I wasn't buying it. And it seemed, neither was Aidan. He tensed beside me.

"Who are you? And what do you want?" Anger edged Aidan's voice. Anger at this man who'd followed us here and who'd no doubt get us caught.

"Don't worry, my dears, I'm only here to help you." He affected a quick bow. "My name is Loki."

"Loki?" I blinked, first shocked then dismayed to discover who our stalker was. Even I knew the stories of Loki and all the nonsense he got up to. Aidan's hands curled into fists. I could almost feel the energy flow off his body.

"Don't look so excited to see me, Brynhildr." Loki seemed put out by my lack of enthusiasm.

"My name's Bryn," I shot back. "So how do you plan on helping us? And why?"

"I have an item which might be of interest to you." His eyes glittered.

The more he talked, the more the gem at my throat warmed beyond its usual comforting heat. Much like when I'd been close to Freya herself. I watched Loki, eyes narrowed, as he withdrew a small cloth package from his pocket.

He unfolded it, his hands graceful, mimicking those of a magician, as if mere gestures would throw us at his mercy. But what he unwrapped was the last thing I expected. An amber stone lay in the middle of the silky black cloth, so similar to mine it was undoubtedly part of a set or part of something bigger.

Loki held a piece of Brisingamen in his hand.



Both amber jewels glowed as if each sensed the nearness of the other piece. I imagined Brisingamen, once put together, would be a sight beyond beautiful. But as much as I wanted to reach for it, I didn't trust Loki. The God of Mischief, the god not known for playing fair. Something about his eyes gave me visions of Shylock, demanding his pound of flesh. Or my heart on a silver platter.

I held back, but Aidan reached for the gem, holding it in his palm as if it were a fragile seashell, as if it would disintegrate if you even breathed on it. "Where did you get this?" Aidan asked, his voice harsh. No respect for this god.

"Well, boy. That counts as information, doesn't it?" Loki grinned.

I had no patience for his fun and games. "What do you want? You bring part of Brisingamen to us and then tease us with it? That doesn't sound much like help to me."

"Oh no. Now don't you go making me out to be the bad guy here. I'm not the one who sent you on this near impossible mission, am I?" Loki wagged a finger at me, teeth gleaming in the dim light. But his eyes glowed, bitter black coals. Funny, I could have sworn they'd been an icy blue when he'd first emerged from the shadows. "I want to help you. Because I'm such a nice guy."

How was it that Loki spoke with such a modern accent? Perhaps he had spent a few years in Midgard then. I didn't really care to waste time thinking about it. I asked, "And in return?"

"Nothing. I don't want payment for helping you. It's time Freya got her damned jewels back. She's had to live without them for far too long. Takes the fun out of teasing her, you know."

"So where did you find this?"

"It was given to me by someone. As a gift."

"Who is this someone?" Aidan bit out the question, impatient with Loki as he drew out each answer.

"His name is Nidhogg, and—"

"And he lives in the frigging Underworld!" Aidan spat. I was grateful he, at least, knew his Norse mythology well. "How do you propose we get there?"

"Oh, I can help you get there if you agree to go." Loki leaned against a table and withdrew a slim metal knife to clean his fingernails, while he puffed away at his cigar. He had no problem making himself comfortable.

"On one condition," Aidan said. I scowled, annoyed he'd made the decision without consulting me. Annoyed in spite of knowing I would have agreed myself.

"Well, boy, let's hear your condition, then." Loki cleaned the tiny blade, inspected the grit he'd removed, then flicked it away, not caring where it would land. I cringed, disgusted, and watched the swirling blue cigar smoke snake around the room, wondering if it would set the fire alarm off.

Aidan raised his chin with attitude. "Give us three days. Then we'll agree to go."