Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Hack
Of all the places I thought we’d meet the elusive Norse god of chaos, this was not it.
“Is this a joke?” Pierce says, his anthros snobbery showing as he recoils from the stench of cigarette smoke and severe body odor.
“It’s the address Samhain gave me and our Dei never jokes.” With a roll of his index finger like he’s rewinding his words, Slay adds, “Well, not in a funny way.”
“Sick! Is that MythOS? Damn, I didn’t think we could access it on Earth.” Four pairs of eyes, including mine, swivel toward Slash as he makes a beeline for the computer in the far corner, where some hipster with a man bun is typing away like his next meal depends on the number of words he writes.
“Slash just geeked out.” From the corner of my eye, I see Pierce shrug, and he’s not wrong; the Horseman of war got real comfortable, real fast when technology started to gain traction.
The rest of us…not so much. We’re like Boomers doomed to live day in and day out with a Gen Z-er. It’s fucking exhausting but also useful as fuck.
Then there’s Sage who is…a Millennial? If Millennials were two thousand years old.
“I bet every single one of these dudes is hacking some foreign government.” My body instinctively steps in front of her to protect her from…
I don’t really know what. I know she can hold her own and I know she’s capable of protecting herself, but I still feel the overwhelming urge to stand between her and danger.
And right now, the air is danger enough.
“Yeah, well, while he’s losing brain cells with the coding shit, we need to find Loki in this shithole.
” I nod to Slay, agreeing that finding the Norse god is, indeed, a priority.
The warehouse is huge and it’s wall-to-wall tables with computers and screens and bags of junk food on top of the makeshift desks.
The majority of the guys—and a few girls in the crowd—are wearing headphones, bopping their heads to what I’m assuming is their favorite playlist.
I refuse to explain how we enjoyed our time back when I was young because you can’t compare apples to hyenas. What I can say is that even knowing that I’m old as fuck compared to these kids, I still prefer being outside instead of suffocating in someone else’s second hand smoke.
“It’s a good thing we can’t get cancer. Two minutes in this dump and we’d be begging for chemo.” I doubt that, but who the fuck am I to disagree with Pierce? He’s the doc, not me.
“Let’s get Loki and get the fuck out of here.” My words are clipped, my patience already at its limits.
“Wait.” We’re all about to take a step deeper into the warehouse when Sage’s command stops us in an instant. “Isn’t Loki the god of mischief or something?”
“Chaos is his thing, yes,” Slay answers for us all.
“So, this whole place looks chaotic, right? And Slash just said something about MythOS which I’ve never heard of—on Earth at least—not that I would typically hear anything about programming language anyway, but still.
” She’s talking a million miles a second and I can’t help but find it endearing.
Okay, fine. It’s hot. I find it hot when her mind starts spinning because her brain goes faster than her words. It’s sexy as fuck.
We scan the scene before us with more critical eyes, following Sage’s theory.
There’s a definite pattern and uniformity.
I’d guess there are around seventy-five to hundred gamers and hackers glued to their screens, all wearing either ear pods or headphones.
Some screens have video games well underway, others have lines and lines of code just scrolling up at phenomenal speeds.
The warehouse is jam packed and at any given moment, at least a third of them are screaming at the outcome of their games.
Only one is taking it all in when he’s not engaging with Slash.
“The bun guy,” we all say at the same time, our gazes swinging straight to where our brother is talking to the guy, his hands flying all over the place like he’s suddenly activated some long-dormant Italian DNA. Loki thrives on chaos and bun guy is looking mighty content with this crowd.
My hand reaches for Sage’s on reflex, as though every part of my body seeks her out at all times. It doesn’t help that this place feels off and I’m well aware that my senses are on high alert after everything that’s happened, but it doesn’t mean I’m wrong.
As a unit, we make our way to the back of the warehouse where Slash seems right at home with a headset of his own and a computer screen running a fuckload of numbers and letters.
The hipster—and if we’re not mistaken, Loki—sits back in his chair and where, seconds ago, he seemed oblivious to the rest of the world, he’s now surprisingly alert to our presence.
“The entire Horsemen tribe, wow. To what do I owe the honor?” He doesn’t stand and it’s clear he’s not intimidated, in the least, by us.
“Dei Samhain told us we could find you here.” Slay is no nonsense and gives the same level of reverence, or lack thereof, that he did the greek goddess Hekate. We don’t answer to the gods.
“Hmmm, interesting.” This time, the man rises to his full height and fuck me, he’s tall. Almost as tall as us, which is rare. “You didn’t find me, Death, I allowed you to locate me. There’s a difference. I can smell your kind an ocean away.”
Insults from the gods; how novel.
None of us react. We’re not ashamed of who we are and arguing with these privileged asshats won’t change a fucking thing.
Sage, on the other hand…
“Well that’s rude.” Fuck my life. “You think being the outcast of your family is somehow above the Horsemen’s status? Seems like the movies got it right, you’re a bit of a dick, aren’t you?”
This is probably not the time to acknowledge my instant erection at her trying to protect my honor.
Instead, I angle my body in such a way that it hides Sage from Loki’s attention.
There’s a reason for his reputation. He lives for mischief and he’s a sucker for a beautiful woman, so tonight is going to end in one of two ways.
Either we all walk away and get answers about the massive animal that tried to kill us and is now trailing Sage like a docile puppy, or someone’s going to die.
“Well, well, who do we have here?”
This time, I step up to him, using every inch I have on him to make sure he understands my words. “She’s my chosen.”
“Hmm, I see. Little yet fierce.”
I cock my head to the side, making sure the only thing he sees is me, and this catches Slash’s attention, probably feeling through our demon bond that something is amiss.
“Come on, now. We’re all here for the good of the world. Amiright?”
No one answers as Loki and I continue our standoff. The whole time I remind myself that the smirk on his face is all about the chaos and my reaction is exactly what he craves.
Sage, however, has missed the memo.
Sliding herself between me and Loki, she steels her spine and addresses the god that wreaks havoc all over the world whenever he gets bored.
“I’m guessing you don’t like to have your time wasted from…” She looks around as though searching for something important. “Whatever it is that you do, but we have a problem that you created and only you can solve.”
Loki breaks our intense stand off and gives my chosen his undivided attention.
His eyes are dark like the night and his hair is pulled back into a neat, dark-brown bun.
Even though I’ve never met Loki, I know for a fact this isn’t his real appearance.
It’s his thing, pretending he’s just another being.
Not only does he change his looks and gender, but he’ll go from Earthly being to supernatural without a second thought.
The stories we’ve heard over the centuries are wild and, until now, I always thought they were exaggerated.
I have a feeling there was more truth than lies to it all.
One thing is clear: he’s blond. He’s always been described as strikingly handsome because the Norse have always considered blond or reddish hair as a form of beauty.
Hell, some of them even bleach their hair color if it’s too dark to attract whoever it is they are trying to fuck.
“It’s not every day that I’m asked to solve a problem instead of creating one. Color me intrigued.”
“You need to come outside and see this for yourself.” Sage shrugs, turns on her heel, and starts walking away like she has zero doubts that we’re all going to follow. To be fair, there’s no fucking way I’m letting her go anywhere without me, so that’s settled.
But Loki? Doubtful.
As one, we scan the warehouse before making our way in the same direction as Sage, hoping the king of chaos will feel generous enough to do us a solid. Our first step outside is a reminder of the smoke-filled warehouse and I don’t hesitate to take in a big gulp of fresh air.
“Don’t get your hopes up, Satapti, Loki isn’t known for copping up to his responsibilities.”
We’re in the northern tip of Maine, where the crisp chill of the air bites your nose right off.
The warehouse sits on a secluded plot of land, the front entrance giving way to a massive, impromptu parking lot.
It’s the middle of the night in November, frost is settling on the corners of the car windows, and the distinct smell of snow is tickling my nostrils.
It’s cold as fuck, I’m sure, but our demon genes aren’t affected the way anthros are, the way Sage may be, despite her witchy, goddess, sexy status.
As any chosen worth his salt, I step up to her and engulf her entire body in my embrace, offering her the heat from my skin.
“Oh, ye of little faith. He’ll come out.” Her words are a little muffled with her mouth pressed against my chest but we all hear her. Slash is the first to scoff as he plays on his phone.
“We need a plan B.” Pierce runs a hand through his short hair, the puff of air from his sigh visible in the cold night.