Page 13 of The Fanged One

Freya stood and came around the low table without taking her eyes off Linnea. She went down on one knee in front of the couch arm where Linnea was sitting, which was the wrong way around for a goddess and a völva.

Freya took Linnea's face in both of her hands the way Havi had taken Fenris's. The gold of her power moved at the edges of Linnea's vision like firelight dancing on a wall.

"Fenris can't do this without you. He'll need your help and your contacts. Think, my little völva." Freya's thumb stroked Linnea's cheekbones gently. "Who knows more about the gods than anyone you know? More than any völva, more than any king, more than any old woman by her fire? Who has been collecting our stories like a magpie and refuses to let any of them go? That is the person you need to talk to."

Linnea blinked, and she knew the answer before Freya let her go. She had elves, wolves, gods, and high fae in her extended family, but only one man on Midgard was more obsessed with the Norse pantheon than any of them. He had hoarded enough scraps of old manuscripts and random relics that if anyone had information on Loki's location, he would.

"Oh, no, Von is going to lose his mind over this," Linnea groaned.

Freya's smile widened, and then she rose back to her feet. She pressed a warm kiss to Linnea's left cheek, and another to her right, and her power went through Linnea in a small, bright shimmer.

"Be brave, my little völva. You were born for this task. Do not be afraid of your wyrd."

Freya crossed back to Havi, who had bent and pressed his forehead briefly to Fenris's again in a private farewell. He turned to Linnea and inclined his head the way a king inclined to his messenger, which was somehow more intimidating than the goodbye Freya had given her.

"Mind my cottage," Havi rumbled. "Eat as much as you wish. I kept it stocked, just in case."

"I will," Linnea promised. "Thank you, All-Father."

"And well done on the door," he said and shot her a wink.

Linnea blushed all the way to her toes.

The portal opened again, and both gods disappeared through it without a backward glance.

"Fuck," Linnea said with feeling.

Fenris watched her over the top of his coffee cup, the almost-smile back at the corner of his mouth.

"I have to call Tor," she muttered and drained her coffee. Fenris frowned. "It's okay. He's my brother. We are going to need his help when we go to Oslo and see Von."

Fenris's eyebrow lifted, very slightly, at the name.

"You will like Tor, and you'll either love or hate Von. There is not really a middle option with him."

"And which do you?" Fenris asked, the wolf in his eyes again.

"What do you mean?"

"Von. Do you love him or hate him?"

Linnea tried not to feel like a cornered rabbit. "I love Von. He's not a shifter, but he is pack. My family."

Fenris nodded, and the wolf glow simmered down.

What the hell was that? Linnea didn't want to know. She went to get her phone, and the screen was full of messages again. Eleven new messages and three missed calls from Tor, Ciara, Alruna, Gudrun, and Layla. Arne was smart enough to stay out of it, and that was why he was currently her favorite big brother.

Just great.

Linnea surrendered herself to her fate and dialed Tor. He answered before the first ring finished.

"Linnea," he growled. "Where the fuck are you? I have been trying to..."

"I'm still with Fenris," she replied, cutting him off. "I'm safe. He and the gods need my help. Yours too, but I need to know you're going to be cool about it because if you touch him, I'll kick your ass so damn hard."

There was a silence on the other end of the line that was as warm as Ulfheim winter, and Tor began swearing in a long way that was kind of famous among the úlfheðnar. Linnea inspected her nails and waited for him to get it out of his system. When he was done, Linnea heard Ciara laughing in the background.

"Okay, little sister," Tor said in a gruff rumble. "You had best start from the beginning."