“Haha.” My lip curled at the low blow. “Get to the point, mischief-maker. I have a busy day today.”
“Who says I have a point?”
“You wouldn’t be here otherwise, would you?”
Loki laughed and paced toward me. “You don’t have to be in such a rush. No one’s coming.”
“You can’t know that,” I said. I turned with him as he circled me slowly. “Abaddon would’ve felt the power surge.”
“Unless I had you shielded. Maybe I wanted to drop by and say hello.” He ran a finger across my chest. “I rather like this form, but I think I prefer the scales. Maybe the big version this time. I’ve not been with a dragon yet.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed his hand away. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you won’t be with one tonight, either.”
“Aw, you’re no fun.” Loki stuck his lip out in a pout, then his expression turned thoughtful. “You know, I heard someone talking about that prophecy again just the other day. You know the one.”
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I groaned. “The one about ‘Heaven’s fallen son’ and your offspring? Personally, I’ve never put much stock in prophecies. I hate the idea of anyone else dictating my future.” It was all a bunch of bullshit designed to make us villains. There were multiple prophecies about me starting Armageddon, and theÆsir[20][21]—the dominant race of Asgard—took the one about Loki’s children and Ragnarok seriously. The one about me and his kid beginning it all together was a bit more obscure, and even less reliable for it. “Plus, I’ve seen your children, and I think I’ll pass.”
Loki stopped and lifted his chin, eyes narrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I don’t have the odd sexual appetite that you do,” I said, trying to head off a Loki temper. “Isn’t one of your kids a horse with eight legs?”
A grin stretched across his face. “Sleipnir, yes. Odin was never worthy of such a being as him.”
“And the giant wolf and serpent?”
He held his hand up. “To be fair, Fenrir and Leviathan were perfectly normal at birth. They chose their forms later and were punished for them by those simple-minded assholes because they assumed my monstrous offspring would bring Ragnarok.”
The insane punishments Loki’s children had to endure based on a prophecy that, some thousand years later, had yet to play out was disgusting. People said and did horrible things to justify their hatred of one another.
My patience, or lack thereof, with it was what had spawned my current situation.
Loki’s voice took on a more serious tone. “How was Hela the last time you saw her?”
“The usual. Moody, quiet.” I shrugged, making sure to keep watch on our surroundings. “She just wanted to be left alone in her corner of Hell.”
It was odd to think how a being so powerful cared so much for his children’s well-being. I was considered the father of demons, though I’d never actually spawned any myself, and I had no problem killing them. Perhaps I just wasn’t the fatherly type after my share of family issues. My own Father disowned me for having an opinion that wasn’t his and refused to entertain any conversation about my return. Then he had my brothers hunt those of us that fell until we retreated to Hell.
We may have lost the war for Heaven, but the guerrilla warfare that took its place—equal parts revenge on Heaven and the damnation of His precious humans—had raged until the day Michael and I ended it.
Loki chuckled, though it sounded forced. “I’d say with Abaddon in charge of Hell now, her solitude will be coming to an end soon, whether she likes it or not.”
“If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll leave her be.” I turned back to him, but he was gone. I spun on my heel. The bastard had left without even a flicker of power, a whisper of air. Glancing at my watch again, I decided it was high time I took off as well.
My shop kitchen popped into place around me, and I relaxed. If anyone had told me a millennia ago I would one day be in disguise as a baker, I… well, I probably would’ve believed them. Even I had to admit, I’d done some odd things in the past.
I walked through, flipping the ovens on, firing up my computer, and prepping for Lexi’s arrival.
Sinsational Sweetswas closed on Sundays for “religious reasons,” but I’d asked her to come in for training. Every recipe for every baked good I offered was locked up in my head, but she would need to learn them before she started, so I’d typed them up and printed them out for her ahead of time.
Since the shop wouldn’t be open, I’d told her she could keep what she made. It would be a hit to my inventory and sales, but I happened to be doing well for myself, so I didn’t really care. Plus, she’d seemed excited about taking things back to her roommate. I planned to show her the menu, go over recipes, teach her what to prep and when, and then we’d figure out her schedule.
Thinking about it now, I probably should’ve asked her availability before I just hired her on the spot. I couldn’t judge her soul, which was throwing me off, but I could judge her food, and she would be a huge asset to the shop no matter when she was able to work. Unless, of course, she tried to kill me or something, then we’d have a problem.
With the ovens warming and everything ready to go, all that was left was to wait for Lexi. For the first time in a while, the prospect of seeing someone again had me excited, and I couldn’t stop moving, pacing, tapping my fingers. I hadn’t felt like this since my contract with OzzyOsbourne[22]. This one, however, was different because it didn’t involve my devilish dealings.
Unless it did.
But that was why I was keeping her close, wasn’t it? If she was involved in a plot against me, I would discover it one way or another.
