Val's gaze flicked to her, heated with disapproval and calculating her next move. Finally, she sheathed her blade back in its wrist compartment. She glared at Elle but stepped away from Thor.
"Why don't you let me buy you a drink?" Loki appeared at the top of the stairs as if strolling by. But his bright blue eyes followed the entire situation with intense interest.
Val scowled at him. "In your dreams, Playboy." She stomped to the next apartment down the hallway and stepped inside before slamming the door.
There was that word again, ‘Playboy’. What did it mean?
Loki turned to Thor and shrugged. "I did my best." He winked at Elle, his gaze soft and playful, before heading back down the stairs. “Good luck, Odinson.”
"What did he mean?" she asked.
Thor scratched his head, making him appear a thousand years younger. "I may have asked him to keep your friend occupied for a few minutes, so I could talk to you."
He did that for her? Her chest tightened, but her gut churned. Everything inside her fought to identify the emotions rolling through her. Curious about the way he looked at her. Fear he might find out who she was. Excitement at the thought of a gorgeous man taking interest in her. Nervousness at all the things she hid inside her that no one knew. Terror of being found by her father.
"Okay," she finally said.
His eyebrows scrunched together. "Okay?"
"I will let you pick somewhere to take me to do something, I do not know what it is, until we arrive. Preferably not involving raw fish."
His furrow deepened. "I'm not sure I understood all that, but I get the gist."
"What time are you taking me?"
"When do you get off?"
"I finish work at five."
"I'll pick you up here at six."
"Thank you."
Thor nodded and stood awkwardly for a moment. Nervousness crept up her spine. Was he changing his mind already?
"Are you going to wait here until six?" she asked.
"Uh... no. I'll come back."
She nodded. As much as she wanted him to stay, she also wanted him to leave for fear that he might change his mind. "Then you'd better go. I need to return to my shift."
"Of course." He turned and headed for the stairs, but stopped and glanced back at her.
She gave him a small wave and waited until he'd disappeared before she fell back against the wall.
A smile crossed her face and then fell. What was she doing? What was she thinking? Her gut gnawed at her insides. She had to tell Thor. She had to tell him who she was. It wasn't fair to keep that kind of secret from him.
She'd tell him tonight when he took her out. Because if they were in public on Midgard, she was relatively sure he wouldn’t cause a scene in a place with so many humans… at least, she hoped that was the case.
CHAPTER SIX
The cobblestone street outside the Raven Weaver glistened with a fresh coat of rain, puddles collecting in the worn grooves between stones where centuries of foot traffic had smoothed them down. A damp chill clung to Thor's leather jacket. The kind of cold that made his knuckles ache where they'd been split and scarred over too many lifetimes to count. He straightened, rolling the tension out of his neck. Overhead, Helheim's eternal twilight pressed down, no stars, no moon, just a bruised violet sky that never quite committed to full darkness.
Ethereal lanterns lined the street, buzzing with pale-amber energy, their glow catching the mist and turning the air into something gauzy and half-real. Down the block, the low thrum of a bass line leaked out of Valhalla’s Throne, and a pair of Helmarked argued in rapid-fire.
The Raven Weaver's wooden sign swung on iron hooks above the door, its carved ravens depicted in deep indigo and black, the paint fresh enough that Thor smelled linseed oil.
Thor took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the Raven Weaver. The air hit him with a heady wave of memory-laden fragrance, like standing in the grand halls of Asgard once more. It was uncanny how Frigg had perfectly captured it: the charred essence of crackling hearth fires fusing seamlessly with the rich, earthy pull of ale, while soft undertones of sweet vanilla wrapped around him like an old lullaby.
