Claimed by Gods Read online

  She folded her wiry arms over her chest. “I don’t mean the ones you summoned. I mean all those dozens of valkyries Odin had before, off in Valhalla or wherever. If they’re so attuned to him, why aren’t they already looking? Why’d you need to make your own?”

  Before. Another quiver ran through my consciousness, but only along the surface. Easier to sweep aside.

  “It’s been a long time since those days,” I said. “Things have changed. Your wars have gotten so much larger. The old ways no longer made sense. Odin released the valkyries from their duties and the powers that came with them.”

  “Oh. That sucks all around, doesn’t it?” Aria dragged in a breath. “All right. So what’s next, teacher? How do justice and mercy fit in for me?”

  Yes, back to the real matter at hand. “When making their judgments, valkyries needed to see inside the warriors they were judging,” I said. “To sense their motives and emotions. Like shining a light on their souls.”

  “Got it,” she said. “And you’re the god of light.”

  Another smile stretched across my face. Yes. We all had our place—and she was finding her place among us already, wasn’t she?

  “Something like that,” I said. “And you have that ability too. If you learn the right focus, you can sense what others are feeling—the harmony or lack thereof in their spirit—even from a distance.”

  “Like over a battlefield.”

  “Exactly. Although we hope it won’t come to that. But it should help you, if you encounter anyone during your search for Odin, to decide whether they’re a threat or a potential ally.”

  I glanced around, considering how we might best practice this skill, and the sound of a car engine drifted in from outside. I couldn’t have asked for better timing. Beckoning Aria to follow me, I walked over to the window.

  A small truck had just pulled up at the end of our drive. A young man hopped out of the back with a cooler and a couple of boxes of groceries. A middle-aged woman climbed out of the front passenger seat and hauled out a bag of gardening equipment. The gray-haired man who’d been driving followed the younger man over to the house.

  “Our mortal maintenance crew,” I said to Aria as she joined me. She peered down through the glass. “They bring supplies from town and keep up the property so we don’t need to worry much about it ourselves.”

  “You’re not worried they’ll see something godly?” Aria asked.

  “Loki makes sure they see nothing that would disturb them.”

  She made a skeptical sound. “I get the impression he’d probably have fun disturbing them, really.”

  I had to laugh at that. “You might be right. But he manages to keep that part of his nature in check. We all want to keep the harmony here.”

  “Especially when you don’t know how much longer it’ll be before you can get home.”

  She knew how to cut straight through to the heart of the matter too, didn’t she? I closed my eyes for a moment, soaking in the sunlight and the familiar scents of the instruments and old paper scores.

  “Yes,” I said. “There’s that. But it won’t hurt them at all for you to try your sensitivity on them. Watch the woman from here, see if you can reach out to her with your mind. Almost as if you’re going to caress her head with your thoughts. See what impressions come back to you then.”

  Aria leaned toward the windowpane, the errant blond waves of her hair nearly brushing the glass. Her eyes narrowed.

  As she focused on the gardener, I found myself focusing more intently on our valkyrie. On the rise and fall of her chest, so close to mine, as her breaths evened out in concentration. On the light that lit in those gray eyes, the smile that started to curl her lips, when she must have caught what she was looking for.

  I could get my own sense of her emotions, looking at her. There was that determination I hadn’t needed any godly power at all to read. Beneath it, a growing sense of satisfaction—with the abilities she was discovering, I assumed. She wasn’t happy here exactly, but I didn’t think we could have expected that much yet. Content was a victory in itself.

  And then, even deeper beneath that, I tasted a small but vivid pulse of love. Someone or something she held in her heart, so tightly and fiercely I had the urge to unravel it, to delve into every crinkle of that sensation. When was the last time I’d immersed myself in an emotion that strong? My pulse stuttered, half eager, half fearful.

  Aria turned her head, and I jerked my awareness back to the surface. Her eyes were outright glinting now.

  “I could feel it,” she said. “When I reached out, like you said. Not a lot, but— She’s a little worried. I think she has a pet at home that’s sick. But she likes being out in the sun, working with her hands, seeing that the plants are growing well. She wants to do a good job even though she knows she’s not being supervised closely.”

  Aria grinned at me triumphantly when she finished. I hadn’t reached out to the gardener myself to compare my impressions, but everything she’d said felt right with what I knew of the woman.

  I nodded encouragingly. “Try our delivery boy next, then.”

  I pointed to the young man who’d clambered back into the bed of the truck. He was sorting through a few boxes still sitting there, the sun bringing out a sheen in his dark brown hair. Aria leaned forward again, watching him. This time she spoke as she reached her awareness.

  “He wishes he was back home,” she said in a distant voice, with me and also with him. “There was something happening in town today that he’s missing, and he’s kind of peeved about that. But he’s also intimidated by the house. He wants to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything he was supposed to bring in—so he doesn’t get in trouble, I guess?” She glanced at me, coming back. “Has he gotten in trouble before?”

  “Not that I can recall,” I said. “As I mentioned, we try to keep harmony around here. No ill feelings. But mortal emotions aren’t very often rational.”

  “Whereas godly emotions are?” Aria said, sounding amused. She peered up at me. “And what would I see if I reached out to you, god of light?”

  I felt her attention on me like the flicker of heat from a flame. Seeping through the calm glow on the surface down toward a deeper space where things I didn’t want to look at closely started to stir in response.

  My chest hitched. I stepped to the side, breaking her focus. “I think you’ve proven you’ve caught on fast,” I said. “Maybe we can find a crowd to test those abilities out on next time. You’re already well on your way.”

  Her brow knit as her gaze followed me, but she didn’t push the matter. She did turn back to the window. “A little more practice couldn’t hurt, right?” she said. “I wonder what’s going on in that other guy’s head.”

  As she bent forward, I stayed where I was, the brief jitter of my nerves settling with that distance.

  This one was different, all right. Maybe in some ways I’d rather she wasn’t.

  9

  Aria

  I left the music room with a weird twist in my gut. I’d learned what I needed to from Baldur. He’d been nice enough about it. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted while I’d been with him, something that had made his enthusiasm for the whole teaching thing dry up. He’d wanted me to leave at the end.

  It shouldn’t have mattered to me. I just couldn’t help wondering what mystery lay behind those dreamy blue eyes. Because there was something more to him than rainbows and sunlight.

  Curiosity killed the cat. Keep your eyes on the prize. Sayings I should keep in mind. Whatever was going on with any of these guys—gods—it had nothing to do with me.

  I’d only taken two steps down the hall when Loki peeled himself off the wall he’d been leaning against near the staircase. “I take it you’ve been making the rounds,” he said in his smooth wry voice.

  “That’s what I’m supposed to be doing, right?” I said. “Getting up to speed on this valkyrie gig, so I can find your missing Allfather?”
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br />   The slim god grinned. “And with such enthusiasm. I’m just offended you haven’t shown any interest in seeing what I can teach you yet. Unless you were simply saving the best for last.”

  He didn’t sound offended even a little bit. I rolled my eyes. “You just weren’t conveniently available.”

  “Here I am now.” He spread his arms as if offering himself. “Shall we?”

  I didn’t like showing any weakness, but I hesitated despite myself. Loki was a trickster. The other gods even called him that. I might have held my own with some of the toughest criminals in Philly, but none of them had divine cleverness on their side. Not to mention it was his fault more than any of the others I was stuck here.

  And on top of that, now that I wasn’t in escape mode, it was hard not to notice just how freakishly attractive all of the gods were. With the others, I could distract myself. But Loki—quick-tongued and full of sly humor along with the power that practically radiated from that leanly muscled frame—was exactly my type. Exactly the type I’d have steered clear of to jump some other guy’s bones when I had that itch, because I only wanted someone I could forget about the next day.

  Loki was doubly dangerous just because of the urge that lit up in me at the spark in his eyes—the urge to surprise him, to impress him, to beat him at his games… and we wouldn’t get into all the things certain parts of me would have liked to do after that.

  But I didn’t really have a whole lot of choice about spending time around him, so I’d just have to keep reminding myself of the whole evil trickster god angle.

  While I was coming to that conclusion, Loki’s expression softened, which somehow managed to make his angular face even more attractive.

  “Perhaps we didn’t get off on the best of feet,” he said, his tone turning self-deprecating. “My fault, mainly, as so much always is. Are there any other cutting instruments I can retrieve to help make it up to you?”

  I looked at him, a bit of the focus Baldur had taught me tingling at the back of my skull. It was harder getting a read on a god than a mortal. I’d barely felt anything from Baldur before he’d broken the connection. Loki gave me a faint impression that was fiery and yet cool at the same time—and a sense of genuine apology. I was pretty sure he would have gone running back to Philly to grab a butter knife out of my kitchen drawer or the scissors from Mom’s bathroom cabinet if I’d asked him to.

  I was kind of tempted to make him do it, just for the hell of it. But what if that made me more indebted to him? Nope, safer to stick to the essentials.

  “I think I’m good in the cutting department,” I said. “If you’re ready to teach, then teach. What valkyrie skills have you got up your sleeve?”

  The sly light in his amber eyes flickered brighter. “All the best ones, pixie. Come with me. I’m going to teach you how to fly.”

  A shiver of excitement raced through my chest as I followed him to the end of the hall. I was going to fly, like a fucking bird. But the excitement came with a knot in my stomach at the thought of calling those heavy wings out of my back.

  Loki popped open the dormer window there and eased it up high enough for us to climb out onto the roof. Hot air and the tarry smell of baking shingles wafted through the opening. He swept his arm with a hint of a bow to let me go ahead of him. “Ladies first.”

  “I wouldn’t say I’m a ‘lady,’” I said. “But I’ll take it anyway.”

  I clambered out onto the slanted roof, setting my feet carefully as I found my balance. The warm breeze licked through my hair. We were three stories up, with a view over the lawn and the tree-lined meadows. The sun was dropping low in the sky, making the trees’ shadows stretch across the grass.

  That was a long drop below us if I lost my footing. But maybe valkyries didn’t break that easily. I wasn’t especially keen to find out.

  Loki slipped through the opening as if his much taller body fit as well as mine had, with a casual, confident grace. I jerked my gaze away before I started admiring him or anything stupid like that and looked out over the lawn. The maintenance people had driven off in their truck a few minutes ago. No one else around. Quite the pocket of privacy the gods had found here.

  “So, I guess if I’m going to fly I’ll need those wings.” I rolled my shoulders, the sleeveless shirt Freya had picked out for me shifting with them. It had a racerback, leaving my shoulder blades bare. I might be able to unfurl my new appendages without ruining any more clothing.

  My back had already stiffened at the thought of encouraging my wings to emerge. The last time I’d already been stirred up by the sight of Loki’s blood. Now I had to totally calmly just decide to do it.

  Loki was studying me. “You don’t like them,” he said.

  It was hard to argue when he put it that plainly. “Nope,” I said. “Not exactly the most comfortable feeling, having two strange—and huge… things sprouting out of your body that aren’t supposed to be there.”

  “You’re thinking about it wrong,” he said, leaning his elbow onto the top of the dormer. “I can take on forms with all sorts of bits and pieces I’m not used to: wings, tails, hooves, breasts.” He arched his eyebrows. “But I don’t see them as foreign parts I’m stuck with. They’re more like different facets of my own body that I’m bringing to the surface. And that’s what your wings are. They are meant to be there now. They’re yours. Own them. Embrace them.”

  I dragged in a breath. Maybe he had a point. I was going to have to get used to the wings if I was going to use them—to get out of here, to get to Petey, and to get through who knew what else lay ahead of me. The thought of them lurking under my skin still made me feel itchy, though.

  “Bring them out slowly,” Loki suggested. “Take your time absorbing the feeling, getting to know them. I can help you adjust your stance so you can hold them more easily.”

  He stepped toward me, and my body tensed at the sudden movement. His hand paused half a foot from my shoulder. Again, he seemed to study me.

  “If it’s all right with you that I help?” he said.

  I swallowed thickly. While the trickster god might not have Baldur’s ability to read emotions, he clearly didn’t miss much. The thought that he might be able to guess the deeper sources of my discomfort made the itch turn into an uneasy prickling. But this was why he was here. To teach. To help me figure out this valkyrie thing.

  People who just wanted to shove you around—or worse—didn’t generally ask for permission first.

  “Okay,” I said. “Slow and steady. Let’s do this.”

  Loki let just his fingertips rest on my back where my wings would emerge, his touch so light I barely felt it. “Picture them, as you did before,” he said softly. “Easing out from inside you, stretching up bit by bit…”

  I needed those wings. I needed to fly. I took another deep breath and brought up the memory of the wings emerging. The itch dug into my back. Dug in and closed around the ridges of cartilage waiting to burst out.

  Yes. Out you come. Easy now.

  I nudged them with my mind, a push and a tug. A burning sensation trickled across my shoulder blades. Then they were rising, spreading over me, inch by feathered inch, their weight pressing down on me more with each passing second.

  “There,” Loki murmured. “These are yours—just as much as those pixie arms and legs are. Your muscles. Your bones. Your nerves. Straighten your back, here.” He pressed my spine. “And round your shoulders just slightly—yes.”

  As I adjusted my stance to his instructions, the weight of the wings melted across my back. Still there, but not quite as intrusive.

  “Flex them,” he said, stepping back to give me room. “Try them out, just standing here. Feel how much a part of you they are.”

  I focused on the wings, and they responded. They unfurled wider over me with a sensation as if I were stretching my arms over my head.

  My muscles. My nerves.

  I curled the tips in again with a tentative flap, and the feathers stirred the breeze
. The movement of the air tingled down through the wings. It quivered right through the rest of my body in a way that wasn’t exactly unpleasant.

  My wings. Mine. And they were going to take me home.

  “So how do we get from this to flying?” I asked.

  Loki grinned. “At some point you just have to take a leap.”

  He sprang into the air—and stayed there, hovering just beyond the edge of the roof. I eyed him.

  “How do you do that?”

  “Magic!” he said with a snap of his fingers, and chuckled. “Somewhat literally. I happen to be in a possession of a pair of highly supernaturally charged shoes.”

  “Hmm. Maybe I could just borrow those.”

  “You could try. Unfortunately for you, they’re tuned only to work on my feet. Of course, you could simply make use of those glorious wings of yours already. Come on.” His tone turned into a challenge. “Bet you can’t catch me.”

  “We’ll see about that,” I muttered. The drop from the edge of the roof still looked awfully far. My heart thumped faster as I tested my wings. They caught against the air with each flap, almost lifting me off the shingles already.

  Good, sturdy wings. They’d carry me. I just had to take that leap of faith…

  I pushed myself forward, over the eavestrough, out into the open air. My body plummeted with a lurch of my gut. A yelp broke from my throat. My arms flailed out, and my wings flailed too—flailed and swept against the air, cutting off my fall. I swooped upward, the wind rushing past me.

  A giggle tumbled from my throat. I was flying. Really, truly flying.

  As I lost momentum, I flapped my wings again, a little frantically and then with more confidence. Glide upward. Bank left. Some instinct deep inside me knew the right ways to move. I propelled myself back to where Loki was waiting.

  “Well, look at you,” he said. “What do you think?”

  “I think,” I said a little breathlessly, “I can go a hell of a lot higher than this.”