Confessions of a Vampire's Girlfriend (38 page)

Loki looked down his nose at me. “The events at Asgard have been skewed out of proportion, but yes, it is while I was in the form of a mare that I became pregnant with Sleipnir. Now you see why the white stallion is valuable to me.”

“To be frank, no. I mean, the whole thing about you changing yourself into an animal and giving birth aside, Tesla has to be . . . what—a couple of hundred generations away from Sleipnir?”

Loki waved away that point. “The fact remains he is an offspring, and I have precious few of them left these days.”

“Yeah, but . . . you're Loki. God of mischief, the trickster. You do all sorts of mean things to other gods. It's a little hard to believe that all of a sudden you've turned into a family guy.”

He shrugged. “People change with time. So have I.”

“You're a god,” I pointed out yet again in case he'd forgotten that point, or thought I was so stupid I had.

“And who is to say gods cannot have a change of heart?” he asked, one eyebrow going up in question.

He had a point there.

“Tesla is just an old horse. He needs to be taken care of. He doesn't need some—” I bit off the phrase “deranged old man who thinks he's a god” and replaced it with, “—one who is busy with other things. Besides, I promised I'd take care of him, and I don't go back on my promises.”

“I believe the phrase ‘too bad, so sad' comes to mind,” he answered, examining his fingernail like he needed a manicure. “Tesla is mine now.”

“Oh, you . . . gah!” I yelled.

“You're being terribly inconsiderate of Fran,” Imogen said. She had on what I thought of as her haughty face, the one she used with guys who got rude with her. “All she's doing is trying to get her horse back, and help some ghosts to move on to Valhalla. She has a very important first date with my brother tonight, and because you're being obstinate and obstructive, she's not going to enjoy it as she should because she'll be worrying about Tesla, and what the ghosts are doing while she's on the date.”

“A date?” Loki asked, looking from Imogen to me. “You have a date with a Moravian?”

“Yes, Ben's a Dark One, but that isn't really important—”

“A Beloved on her first date,” Loki interrupted, stroking his chin as he gave me a speculative look. I groaned to myself. I knew that look. I knew what was coming next. “How well I remember the courtships of all three of my wives. I will give you some valuable advice.”

“I have already advised Fran as to the best way to enjoy her date,” Imogen pointed out. “Input by a man is hardly necessary.”

“First, you test this Dark One to see if he's really faithful to you,” Loki said, totally ignoring Imogen. “I recommend playing a trick or two on him to see if his heart is true, or if he's a lying dog.”

“My brother does not lie!” Imogen said, outraged.

“Next, take something away from him that he values greatly. When the time is right, pretend you found it, and he will be grateful to you forever.”

“Oh!” Imogen gasped. “That is completely out of line! Fran, don't you listen to a word this man is saying!”

Loki continued to ignore her. I just hoped the advice would end soon, so I could get back to the topics of Tesla and the Vikings. “Finally, you must bring him many gifts. Something to give you value in his eyes, and make him cherish you as the source of great fortune.”

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his advice. I may be naive where dating is concerned, but even I knew what he was recommending was downright stupid.

“You need some serious psychological counseling,” Imogen told him with a sniff.

“I am finished,” Loki told me. “Now that I have given you the gift of my advice, you may thank me and then I will leave.”

“Thank you for the advice.” No matter how awful it was. “But I'm not quite through talking to you about Tesla and the Vikings.”

“I've told you my answer,” he said, starting to walk away. “There is nothing left to discuss.”

Just in time I remembered that I wasn't as powerless as he thought. I whipped the amulet out and held it up so the sunlight glinted off it. “Recognize this?”

His eyes widened as he took a step toward me, his hand outstretched. “The
Vikingahärta!
What are you doing with it? It is mine!”

“Nuh uh.” I held the valknut close to my chest and gave him a victorious smile. “‘Too bad, so sad,' remember? The
Vikingahärta
is mine now.”

“Fran,” Imogen hissed between her teeth as she came to stand next to me. “It is not wise to tease a god!”

Loki said something in a language I didn't understand, but the mean tone of his voice was enough to tell me he wasn't offering up a prayer for my good health.

“Don't worry. I'm in control,” I whispered to Imogen before turning back to Loki with a pleasant smile. “However, I'm willing to let you have it if you give me back Tesla, and send the Viking ghosts I raised with it to Valhalla.”

“No,” Loki said, and took another step toward me.

“No? Like . . . no?” The
Vikingahärta
glowed warm in my hand, but whether it was heating up because I was suddenly starting to sweat, or if it was warming of its own power, I didn't know.

“No. No, I will not release my descendant into your custody, and, no, I will not help you with any warriors. You will give the
Vikingahärta
to me now, or you will suffer the consequences.”

“That would not be fair to Fran,” Imogen said, her chin held high. “You would take everything from her and give her nothing in return. I cannot allow you to do that.”

“You cannot
allow
me?” Loki said, his voice suddenly getting very deep and very big. So big it echoed off the rocks behind us, scaring the seagulls above into silence. “You would threaten me, immortal?”

Imogen gave him a look I'd seen bring other men to their knees. “I would protect my friend's best interests from a greedy god, yes.”

“Bah!” Loki waved a hand at Imogen. Without a sound, she fell over backward onto the sand, narrowly missing hitting her head on a large chunk of driftwood.

“Imogen!” I screamed, falling to my knees next to her to see how badly she was hurt. I felt for a pulse, and was relieved to feel it beating away strong and steady. Her eyes were closed, her face peaceful, but it was as if she'd fallen asleep standing there. “What did you do to her?” I asked, looking up at Loki, ready to call for backup help if he'd harmed her.

“Merely stopped her squawking for a few minutes. She is immortal. She is not harmed, merely sent to sleep.”

“If she doesn't wake up in a minute, you're going to be one very sorry god,” I promised, slowly getting to my feet.

He sighed, his eyes hard and glinting with anger. “More threats. Very well, I have one for you, mortal. If you do not return to me the
Vikingahärta
, I will take that which you most value.”

Cold gripped my heart, a number of images chasing each other through my mind—Ben, my mother and father, Tesla, Soren and Imogen . . . I valued all of them highly. “Take? Take them where?”

The look he gave me made the cold in my heart turn to ice.

“Give me the valknut now, mortal Fran.” The voice coming out of his mouth seemed to be amplified, as if he was speaking through a bullhorn. It was so loud, it hurt my ears.

I took a couple of steps backward, shaking my head slowly, the pendant clutched tight in my hand. “Not unless you give me back Tesla, and take the Viking ghosts to Valhalla.”

His eyes narrowed. “You would sacrifice that whom you hold most dear for one small, insignificant piece of jewelry?”

“No, I would not.” I glanced quickly at Imogen, but her chest rose and fell normally, so I figured Loki was telling the truth and she was just asleep. “I would, however, fight with every last breath in my body for them. If you want this valknut, you're either going to have to take it from me, or give me what I want.”

Loki snarled something under his breath and lunged for me, but the valknut, despite being his and seeped in his power, evidently didn't like him much, for it suddenly blasted out a reddish gold light that had Loki leaping backward.

“Very well,” he growled, his body starting to shimmer. “We shall do things the hard way.”

He shimmered off into nothingness before I could say anything. One second he was there; the next he was gone, just a few sparkly bits in the air left to indicate that a god had been standing there.

Imogen moaned.

“You OK?” I asked her, kneeling next to her. “How do you feel?”

She rubbed her head. “Like someone struck me. What happened? Ew. I'm lying on seaweed.”

I brushed her off and helped her pick seaweed from her long silver blond hair, explaining what Loki had done and said.

“Oh! He is not going to get away with treating us this way,” she said, her eyes fired with anger. “Just wait until Benedikt hears about this!”

“Um. Yeah.” A chill rippled down my arms at the memory of Loki swearing he would take whoever mattered the most to me. “Maybe we shouldn't tell him about this.”

“Not tell him?” Imogen paused in the middle of gathering up her Loki invocation things. “Fran, you cannot keep secret from Benedikt something of this importance.”

“Why not? He doesn't seem to have any problem in keeping secrets from me.” I handed her the chalice.

She dumped the water from it and frowned at me. “That's different, and you know it.”

I didn't see the difference, actually, but an argument about that wasn't going to do either of us any good at that moment. I stayed silent as we walked slowly back to the trailers, Imogen lecturing me the entire time about having confidence in Ben.

“Fran!” Imogen said as she stopped next to the steps to her trailer. I handed her the things I'd picked up. “You haven't listened to a thing I've been saying, have you?”

“Actually, I have.”

She opened the door to her trailer, glanced inside to make sure Ben wasn't up and about, tossing the things onto the seat nearest the door. “You can't just do nothing about this! Ignoring it won't make it go away.”

“Oh, I know that. And I'm not going to do nothing.”

“What are you doing, then?” She asked.

Finnvid and Gils were lying out on the chaises in the center area, a boom box between them, getting a tan while listening to music and swigging back what looked like a case of Swedish beer.

“I'm going to ask Sir Edward for help. Now that I know who I'm up against, I just need to figure out a way to make Loki do what I want.”

“Loki?” Finnvid asked, looking up from a magazine with topless women all over its pages. “Did you summon him? Did he like the sacrifice of many small hamburgers we made in his name? Will he help us get to Valhalla?”

“Yes, I have no idea, and no. He's being really annoying, and I'm going to have to get tough with him,” I said as I marched past the two ghosts.

“Gils, wake up,” Finnvid said, smacking his friend on the head with the magazine. “The goddess Fran is going to war against Loki. We must help her!”

“No, it's not a war—”

“Idag dör vi!”
Finnvid shouted at the top of his lungs.
“Nästa hÃ¥llpats: Valhall!”

“Shhhh!” I hissed, clapping a hand over his mouth. “Some people sleep in late! And what did you say?”

“Today we die. Next stop: Valhalla,” Finnvid said from beneath my hand. I pulled it back to let him speak since he wasn't bellowing anymore. “Ah, see? The others come.”

“Oh, great, just what I . . . no, no, put down the bow, Isleif.”

“Finnvid called us,” Isleif said, puffing a little since he had run up from the shore. Behind him were Ref and Ljot, with Eirik emerging at a full gallop from the woods, tucking his shirt into his leather pants. “We go to battle?”

“No! No battle!”

“Yes!” Finnvid said, waving his arm at the other Viking ghosts as they materialized and emerged from various parts of the island, all attracted by his war cry. “The goddess Fran goes to war against Loki! It will be a battle like none other!”

“You can say that again,” I muttered under my breath.

“
F
irst, we must draw Loki into an area where he is unprotected,” Eirik said, shaking a ballpoint pen that wouldn't write. He made an annoyed sound and threw it down along with the tablet of paper he'd taken from my trailer. “Gils, do you have your laptop?”