Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Val eyed every person at the masquerade and calculated their danger factor.
The helborn, she could easily take on her own.
The shifters would be doable as long as they didn’t fight together.
Vampires, meh. But the other immortals were her biggest challenge.
She calculated the odds, and at worst, she should be able to hold off the entire room long enough for Elle to run.
As she scanned the beings starting to look her way, a tall figure with hair as dark as a starless night moved like a shadow into view and strode toward her with the air of a man who knew everyone watched him, yet was above them all.
And there was only one being she knew of who could possibly be that arrogant.
In one seamless motion, he slid out the chair opposite her and took a seat.
His gaze, sharp and bright like a flash of lightning, stayed locked on her face the entire time.
A playful grin curled his lips, promising pleasure and mischief.
He wore a deep navy suit, paired with an open white shirt showing enough to flirt with formality.
The golden snake mask twisted around his features in a seductive dance.
The ideal emblem for Loki, God of Mischief.
“Valkyrie?”
Val glanced around to see if anyone heard him, but everyone appeared otherwise occupied.
She nodded.
He studied her, his gaze raking over her face and body as if imagining what she looked like under her clothes.
She forced her breathing to stay even under his scrutiny and took in every nuance of his expression, which told her he appreciated what he saw.
After a minute, he waved his fingers and a bottle of wine, along with two full glasses, appeared on the table. He reached for his glass, pulled the deep burgundy liquid to his lips, and sipped it- still watching her, as if trying to decide whether to bed her- or bed her.
“Do you have the papers?” she finally asked.
His eyes widened. He snapped his fingers, and a thick envelope appeared in his hand. He pushed it across the table and set down his glass of wine.
Val grabbed the envelope, opened it, and thumbed through the documents inside. She had no idea what she was looking for or whether they were correct, but she checked them out anyway.
“They’re all there,” said Loki.
She nodded and continued to inspect the documents.
“You know, Val really is a silly name. You should be more careful.”
She looked up at him. “Thanks for your concern, but I can take care of myself.”
“Elle for Sutrelle. Val. Valkyrie. Kind of on the nose, don’t you think?”
She shoved the documents back in the envelope.
“It’s my name. It’s been my name for a thousand years.
” That part was true. Valkyrie had been her nickname for a thousand years.
But that didn’t mean it had always been her name.
She had another name. One given to her by her mother before being taken as a child to serve as a Valkyrie.
But she wasn’t about to let anyone know or use that name.
It was hers and hers alone. The last piece of herself that hadn’t been stripped away by the Norse gods, or by Surtr’s torture.
“I simply mean, if you want to recreate yourself, don’t you think a new name would help?” He twirled his glass through nimble fingers, but never let his gaze leave her face.
“Calling me by something different wouldn’t change who I am, so why bother?”
He let out a silky throaty laugh, and her gut clenched as a shot of something warmed her nether regions.
No way. Absolutely not. She was not going to let the Loki, Norse god of mischief and trickery, get to her. No matter how beautiful his chiseled face. No matter how smooth the timber of his voice. No matter how much she wanted to see what he looked like underneath his crisp suit and white button-up.
“Is that it?” she asked.
Loki nodded and then cocked his head to the side, letting his long, black hair fall over his shoulder. “Have we met before?”
“In person? No.”
He chuckled. “I just wonder what it is I’ve done in the past to make you loathe me so intensely. If we’ve never met, then surely I couldn’t have spurned you.”
Val’s grip tightened on the envelope. “I don’t loathe you. I don’t think a thing of you.”
Loki’s eyes flashed for a second, and then he pressed her glass of wine across the table toward her. “It’s the most expensive wine in the world. Won’t you try some?”
Val pushed the glass back toward him. “I don’t drink wine. Especially pretentious, excessively priced wine.”
“Then how about some ridiculously cheap wine from a discount store?”
She glared at him, unable to form a response.
Loki's cool fingers brushed against hers, and an unexpected surge of longing coursed through her, heating her from within and threatening to unravel her. A sudden wave of desire settled deep between her legs, making her fear she might lose control right at the table.
Man, it had been a long, long time since she’d been laid.
Their gazes locked, sparking something electric between them. A whirlwind filled her mind as if she'd downed too much ale; suddenly, Loki seemed like the center of all things in existence. His breathing slowed, and his fingers traced lazy circles over hers.
Loki’s gaze locked on hers, and her entire body buzzed. A scent surrounded her. Fruity and musky at the same time. Warm like a gentle caress. A whisper of breath tickled her neck, sending goosebumps up her skin.
Seconds passed as her body thrummed with desire, and a moan caught in her throat.
Something scratched at the back of her mind as her brain screamed at her to wake up.
Cold water splashed over her, and using every ounce of willpower she possessed, she ripped her hand from his grasp, dropping the envelope of documents to the floor in the process.
Every sense crashed back down around her.
The music of the orchestra, the scent of food and drink, and people.
The bright candlelight bounced off the red and pink decorations once more.
She whipped a dagger from her boot. Rage flowed through her like the lava of Muspelheim. Her breathing came out heavy, and her heart pounded like the drums of the rock giants of Giantland.
Loki sat back in his seat, dragging her glass of wine with him and bringing it to his lips.
“Don’t you ever use your illusions on me again,” Val ground out between her clenched jaw. Every inch of her body went into fight or flight mode, and she fought against the urge to attack him.
Loki didn’t say anything for a moment and then held up the glass in front of him.
“You know, I do believe you are right. This Screaming Eagle Cabernet 1992 really isn’t worth $500,000 a bottle.
” He waved his hand, and the wine disappeared, and two flagons of ale appeared in the wine’s place.
“I believe this is more to your liking. I get it straight from Valhalla. You’ll enjoy it. ”
The way he ignored her words infuriated her. As if he was dismissing her.
“Did you hear me? Or did you want to lose something important to you?”
Loki smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“I understand why you don’t like me. Back on Asgard, I probably wouldn’t have liked myself either.
But I’m not like that anymore… well… mostly.
Now, at least, I no longer lie to women about my intentions to get them in my bed.
They are all well aware I want no strings attached.
But you should never date a man like me. ”
Val kept her mouth from falling open. How in the world could a person be so irritating? “I don’t need dating advice from you. I’m more than capable of making decisions for myself, and they are not made purely with what's in my underwear.”
Loki chuckled. “I can too, but it’s not nearly as fun. By the way, I don't wear underwear.”
He was unbelievable. She’d heard about Loki the manwhore.
Loki the betrayer. Loki the trickster. But seeing him in the flesh explained so much.
His good looks and charm, all mixed together with a wicked tongue and absolutely no shame.
If he had been any other man, any other man, she might have considered allowing him to bring her pleasure.
Sadly, he was so arrogant he probably couldn’t see beyond his own pleasure to think of anyone else.
A deep-skinned man, who would have reminded Val of a fire giant had he not been so short and thin, approached the table and looked at Loki for less than a second before bowing and apologizing.
Bowing? Really? What the hel entitled Loki, a fallen Norse god, to be bowed to?
“Come now,” said Loki. “Try the ale. Tell me more about yourself.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Val spotted Elle rise from her table and rush out.
Val snatched up the envelope from the floor and threw him a snide smile. “I’d rather drink the wine.”
The ashen-skinned man moved out of her way as she bumped the table with her hip, being sure the mug of ale tipped Loki’s direction.
Loki leaped from his chair to keep his one-of-a-kind Tom Ford suit from being destroyed, but at the last second, he bumped into the male who had approached the table and caught several droplets of ale on his shirt.
Damn. Imported silk was not meant to be splashed with ale.
“I’m so sorry,” the Helmarked said. He dabbed at Loki’s shirt with a napkin, but Loki smiled and pulled away.
“Totally my fault. Think nothing of it. Please, enjoy your evening.” He headed after Val without looking backward.
She looked as fantastic from behind as she did from the front. In tight black jeans and boots, she sported a perfectly round backside with strong, shapely legs from years of fighting and training. Her golden ponytail bounced as she headed for the exit, and Loki couldn’t keep from following her.