Loki recalled how often he’d had to keep others from stealing his goods—his crate, his moth-eaten gloves, the one plaid he’d found for warmth, even the pan on which he’d carved his initials with a dagger. Instinct and memory told him that pan sat directly in front of him.
Loki leaned down and picked up the pan, but not before the urchin took a swing at him with his dagger. Catching the lad’s arm just in time, Loki said, “Calm down. I’ll not steal it. I’d just like to take a look at it.”
“That pan is mine, no’ yours. It belonged to somebody special.” The lad continued to grab for the pan, but Loki held him at bay. Logan continued to stand there at the end of the alley, watching and listening.
“Aye, it did, lad.” He turned the pan over and smiled. There they were, his initials—LL for Lucky Loki.
“How would you know? It belonged to a lad named Lucky Loki, and those are his initials he carved in it himself. He was so good with a sling, he became a hero in the battle with the Norse at Largs.”
Loki smiled and peered down at the lad. “Is that so? How did you hear about Lucky Loki?”
“Everyone knows about Lucky Loki. He’s a hero. He fought so hard that Laird Alexander Grant, the Highlander with thehorse in chain mail that scart the Norse away, took him to the Highlands to be his son.”
“Truly?” Loki could not help but grin. He had a reputation he’d known nothing about. A hero? Had the lad truly called him a hero?
“You canno’ have it, ‘tis mine. If you try to steal it, I’ll hunt you down.” The cheeky lad bounced up and down, trying to reach his invaluable pan.
Loki didn’t know what to say. Not that long ago, he had stood in this lad’s place, hoping every day for some meat and enough rainwater to drink. “I’ll not steal it from you, lad.” He handed it back to the boy.
“Nay, ‘tis valuable and ‘tis mine. I’ll sell it someday. Mayhap he’ll come back.”
“Who?”
“Lucky Loki, o’ course. Mayhap he’ll come back and adopt me.”
Loki stared at him in shock. Aye, he should. He should do for this lad just what his uncle had done for him—adopt him and take him back to Grant land. He stared into the hopeful eyes, but it would not do. Not now. He was not in the same place his sire had been.
“We need to move on, lad,” Logan yelled.
“Aye,” he answered. He then turned his gaze back to the urchin. “I hope you meet Lucky Loki someday.”
His eyes lit up. “Or mayhap Laird Alexander Grant will adopt me, too.”
“What’s your name?” Loki asked.
“Kenzie. Sometimes I call myself Lucky Kenzie, but no one else will. Will ye?”
“Aye, Lucky Kenzie it is. Where are your parents?”
“They both died of the fever, so I came to the burgh.”
Loki turned away and headed back to the street, but halfway there, he stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “You’re wrong, lad.”
“About what?” Kenzie gave him a puzzled look, clearly believing he knew all.
“Alex Grant did not adopt him. His brother Brodie did.” He tossed the lad a silver coin, enough to buy him food for a couple of days.
The lad caught it and yelled, “My thanks,” his eyes lighting up.
Chapter Six
Loki finally gets a name on his search for his real sire.
Later, once the music got underway, they moved toward the outside of the hall. Just as Loki had predicted, they had only taken two steps into the passageway when high-pitched giggles sounded behind them. Sure enough, Tessa came toward him, her arm intertwined with her friend’s.
Loki whirled around and flashed a grin at the ladies, stopping them both in their tracks. “Evening, Lady Tessa. Have you met my friend, Torrian?”
Tessa gave Torrian a lingering look and then sidled up to him and rubbed her body against his. In a husky voice, just loud enough for Loki to hear, she whispered, “Nay, we have not met, but I’d sure like to get to know him better. This is my friend, Dona.”
