Fate Undone (The Mythean Arcana Series Book 5) (5 page)

She swallowed hard, scenes running through her mind of the first time she’d tended to a grievous wound on his chest. These were nothing in comparison. At least he could still walk, if barely.

“Fine. But you’ll talk while I tend to you. I want answers.”

“All right.”

“Let me put on real clothes.” With the threat to the university past and her adrenaline fading, the illusion of her blue cloak would fade as well. She poked him hard with the staff, ushering him out the door.
 

It took her a few minutes to throw on jeans and a shirt and grab a bowl of water and some bandages. By the time she got back to the living room, Loki was seated on the couch, nearly slumped over. His shirt was gone, revealing a broad expanse of muscle.
 

Chin length dark hair swept down over his face, concealing his pale skin and even features.
 

She’d forgotten how handsome he was, with sharp features, full lips, and a sliced scar along his jaw. She’d forced the memory of his face from her mind long ago, but to see him again dredged up all the feelings she’d once had. Love. Fear. Disillusionment.

It twisted something in her chest, right where she’d felt that same tightness before she’d heard the gunshot and again when she’d been walking to her cottage. And occasionally when she’d been back in Norway.
 

“You were watching me.” Her skin tingled as she said it. It wasn’t a question. The pulling sensation in her chest had to be more about feeling his presence than just seeing him, but the idea of a link between them made her uncomfortable.

He nodded once. Her lungs felt empty. Why? And did that mean he’d occasionally watched her back in Norway after it had ended between them? Why would he do that?

She shook the question away. She had far too much to worry about without everything from their past creeping in. She was harboring a fugitive. In a sense, she was betraying the university. The ugly thought made a sick feeling well in her stomach. How could she be doing this?

And for him.

She’d already done so much for him. And lost so much because of it.

She was an idiot. There was no question.
 

She scowled as she knelt beside him and said, “You’re going to tell me everything, then I’m going to turn you back into the university.”

“Quite brave telling me your plans, Sigyn.” His eyes were clouded with pain.

“Like you said, I’m not the girl you remember.” She’d never been timid, but she hadn’t been nearly as powerful as she was now. If she wanted him back at the prison, especially if he was wounded, she’d make it happen. She’d do anything to make it happen. He wouldn’t convince her to divert her path again. “And my name is no longer Sigyn. It’s Sylvi.”

The corner of his mouth kicked up and the sight made something flutter low in her belly. She set the bowl of water on the ground with trembling hands.

“Sylvi. Why the change?”

She wiped the blood off his shoulder and rigid stomach as she spoke. “Sigyn was an idiot. And the name was given by a woman who should have loved me, but banished me from my home.” She thrust away thoughts of Freya, her godly and immensely powerful mother, and focused on Loki’s wounds. “I no longer wanted it.”

“You really know how to hold a grudge.”

She shrugged. So forgiveness wasn’t her strong suit. It would serve her well with him. He was the reason Freya had evicted her. As long as she managed to tamp down on the stupid drunken butterflies careening about in her stomach, she’d be fine. Loki was just temporary idiocy on the grandest scale imaginable.
 

“Tell me where you got the bracelet, Loki. Are there more of them?” She finished wiping the blood off his torso and tried not to think about the firm perfection of his muscles.

“It’s Logan now.”

She wasn’t surprised he’d taken another name. Loki was on many gods’ hit list. Lying low was smart. “The bracelet?”

“In a trade with another god. And I don’t think there are more.”

She scowled. “Don’t think? That’s not reassuring.”

“Life’s not reassuring.”

“It can be.” She’d made it so. It’d taken a long time after her life had fallen apart because of him and her own stupidity, but she’d made it so, with help from the university. “Hold on, this is going to hurt.”

He tensed slightly as she closed her eyes and laid her palms on his stomach near the bullet’s entry wound. His skin was warm beneath her palms as she focused all her energy on healing the wounds within his abdomen.
 

It was a talent she’d honed in the years since she’d left him, along with many other skills. In Asgard, she’d never been able to finish her training as a Vala, a follower of Freya and practitioner of seidr magic, but she’d managed to cobble together an impressive array of talents once she’d ended up on earth.

Now, she turned those talents toward healing him. Sweat beaded on her brow and his muscles tensed, but after a while, she sensed his organs repairing themselves. Her breath came short and hard as the magic she funneled into him left her weak.

“Enough,” he said.
 

She glanced up to see his black eyes hot on hers. “You’re not healed yet.”

“I’m healed enough. It’s sapping your strength.” Worry creased his brow.

It pissed her off. He didn’t
get
to be worried about her. His lack of worry so many years ago had ended up with them getting kicked out of Asgard. It was too damn little, too damn late.

She pulled her hands away from his stomach. He was right. He was healed enough. His own advanced healing abilities would take over from here. With some rest and a little bit of time, he’d be back to full strength soon. Which meant she needed to get all the information she could get so she could figure out what to do with him. She was strong, but she was just a demigod. Loki—no, Logan—was a full god. When he had all his strength, her chances against him decreased significantly, even with the help of all her magic.

“Tell me why you’re on campus. It must have taken a hell of a lot of effort to get something that would break through the wards.” She taped a large bandage over the entry wound on his abdomen. There was no need to be concerned with infection, not with a god, but the sight of the wound bothered her for reasons she refused to explore.

He didn’t speak right away, and she could tell he was debating telling her now that he had the worst of his wound tended to.
 

She poked him hard and said, “You made a promise.”

CHAPTER THREE

Logan stared down at Sigyn. No, her name was Sylvi now. He liked the name. He’d never forgotten the feeling of being around her—the rightness of it—but he’d nearly forgotten the intensity. Here, surrounded by her cozy house, it was easy to lose himself in her.

The wooziness from blood loss, combined with her presence and memories of their past, turned his mind into a labyrinth. A bitter laugh escaped him at the thought.

“Well?” she said, staring at him with hard green eyes that were more beautiful for their fierceness. He liked the tough new Sylvi. “Why go to so much effort to get onto campus?”

Telling her was a risk. More importantly, it wasn’t part of his plan. Phase one: eliminate the risk to their lives. Phase two: return for her.

He’d be switching it up big time if he told her now.

But he wanted to. Now that he was in her presence, he didn’t want to wait any longer for her. Just as he’d feared. She was belligerent and annoyed with him, but even like this, she calmed his soul.

Decided on his course, he said, “The university is building a super prison to contain all gods and demigods. They’re using prison labor from the regular Mythean prison to build something so monstrous it will have the strength to hold the gods. The Labyrinthine Prison of Lethe is being built on the abandoned afterworld of Moloch.”

She laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not. I’ve seen it. Aleia the seer confirms it.”

Her brows rose. She recognized Aleia’s name. Any Mythean who’d been alive long enough would recognize it, for she was the most powerful seer of the millennia.
 

“No way,” Sylvi said. “She’s wrong. The university wouldn’t do something like that. We’re the good guys. We’d never just chuck a bunch of people in jail because we don’t like who they are.”

He barked a bitter laugh. “You know she’s not wrong. She’s infallible. And the university is the most powerful Mythean organization on earth. Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power—”

“Corrupts absolutely,” she said. “I know the quote.
And great men are almost always bad men
is how it ends
.
That, you would know.”

“Exactly. I
would
know. And there’s no question this thing is being built and that it’ll be complete within two weeks.”

“I would know about it if that were the case.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. You’re a demigod, so you’ll be thrown in with all the rest. They’re hiding this from you and any other gods or demigods on staff.”

“How did you even figure this out, if it’s such a great secret?” Skepticism was rich in her voice.

“I’ve been consulting with Aleia for centuries. I won’t be a puppet of fate and I want to know when my time nears.”
 

Long before he’d left Asgard, his final fate had been prophesied. He was to be imprisoned until the great Norse battle Ragnarok, at which point he would be killed. When the great battle between the gods would occur, no one knew, but he’d been relying on Aleia to give him forewarning. As long as he wasn’t imprisoned, he could enter Ragnarok with enough of an advantage to survive.

But instead of foreseeing Ragnarok, Aleia had seen imprisonment in the labyrinth. Sylvi had saved him from imprisonment so long ago at the hands of the gods, but fate would have its due. The labyrinth would take the place of his former captivity.

“Still fighting imprisonment?” she asked.

“Of course. And the death that follows it.”

“You’re afraid of death. I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.”

“I’m not afraid of death. I hate the idea of it.” To be wiped from the earth entirely? To have the memory of his deeds as Loki forgotten by mortals and gods alike? Horrifying. He might have hidden his godly identity for centuries, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t intensely proud of his actions when he’d still lived in Asgard. Without him, the other gods would have run amok with their power. He’d been their counter, proof it was possible to challenge terrifying greatness and bring it to its knees.
 

Yes, death and being forgotten terrified him.

“And Aleia told you about the prison?” Sylvi asked.

“Yes. She foresaw this a century ago and I’ve been trying to find it and stop it ever since.” He didn’t mention that learning of the labyrinth had been the catalyst that had made him realize he wanted to find her again. “When the labyrinth is complete, I’m to be imprisoned until Ragnarok, forced to lose my memory and disappear from the consciousness of man.” A chill ran through him. “Along with every other god.”

“What do you mean, forced to lose your memory?”

“The river Lethe has been diverted through the labyrinth. It will steal the memory of whoever is trapped within. It’ll also erase the memory of that god from the minds of all who knew of him.”

Sylvi shuddered, as if the idea frightened her. Good. It should. Then her jaw hardened and she glared at him. “Not possible. It would take enormous power to trap the gods and throw them into a prison like that.”

“Believe it. And you can’t deny that amount of power exists. In the aether, in the afterworlds. Even in some immortal beings. It’s more than possible. According to Aleia, it’s inevitable that we’ll be captured. You saved me from that fate once, but it will have its due. Unless we stop it.”

She looked away, her jaw clenched. He could almost feel the thoughts fighting it out in her head.

Finally, she looked back at him. “I’m telling you—it’s just not possible. Even if the power exists to make it happen, the university wouldn’t do something like that. The people I know would never be so bigoted and terrible. There are gods who work here. And demigods. Not many, but they’re here. Our colleagues would never betray us like that.”

“You’re wrong. Why the hell do you love this place so much?” She was so defensive about it. Every muscle in her lean body was tensed as if she was ready to defend the place with violence.

“Because they gave me a home when I was kicked out of my own.” Her voice vibrated with intensity. “And I’ve been here five hundred years. I
know
this place. As I don’t know you. I shouldn’t trust you. Nor myself, where you’re concerned.”

“You don’t forget.”

“Nor do I forgive. Not myself. Not you.”

She was angrier about their past than he’d expected her to be. His actions had been taken to make her life better, yet she didn’t see it that way.
 

No use dwelling on the past, though. He didn’t like to make excuses or give explanation. He’d use the present to get what he wanted. Her. The way they used to be.

“What are your plans?” she asked.