“Probably. Or maybe they would have come with a weapon that would have destroyed me. Maybe they would have drugged me and kept me in captivity the way they did before.”
“I’m never going to leave you behind, Thorin. I’ve lost too much already.”
His brown eyes gazed into mine, trapping me. I might have stood there all night, enthralled, but he released me. “Go take a shower. You stink of wolf and dried blood.”
I lacked the energy to form a proper retort.
Using the motel’s complimentary shampoo and soap, I scrubbed grime and filth and blood from my hair. The spray ran in pink rivulets down my body and disappeared in the drain. The hot water worked miracles on my tired and achy muscles, restoring my sense of well-being. I reached to turn off the shower, but then I thought about the man—god, deity, divine being—on the other side of the bathroom door. What did he expect from me? What did I expect from him?
More importantly, could I sleep in the shower?
You’re a grown woman, I told myself. Start acting like one. I turned off the water, patted down with a towel, slipped into Thorin’s huge T-shirt, and wrapped another towel around my hair. The T-shirt did little to protect my modesty, but he had seen me wearing less. So much less.
I stepped into the bedroom. Only the TV’s glow illuminated the room. The comforting aroma of burgers and fries greeted me, so I followed my nose to the table where Thorin had laid out a beautiful fast-food dinner. I forgot all about the uncomfortable immodesty of sharing a hotel room with the most desirable man in the world. French fries called to me, seducing with their salty siren song. I grabbed the carton and stuffed a handful of fries in my mouth before turning to face him.
“Grmm.” I groaned through the food. I finished chewing and swallowed. “These may be the best fries I’ve ever had.”
“I promised you burgers.” He grinned. “I’m a man of my word.”
I sank into the chair and unwrapped the massive cheeseburger. Sighing a sound of infinite pleasure, I licked salt and ketchup from my fingers. “Thank you.” I shoved another pile of fries into my mouth.
“You’re welcome.”
I paused, mid-chew, my cheeks bulging with food, and glanced over at Thorin, who was stretched out on the bed, dressed—thank heavens—in jeans and a T-shirt. He stared at the ceiling as though he might find the answer to all the universe’s questions in its swirly textures.
“You lost a lot of blood,” I said.
“It’s not the first time. Probably won’t be the last.”
“You’re sure you don’t need something to eat?”
He rolled up on an elbow and met my gaze. Then he shook his head. “No food. Just rest. You know I’m a quick healer.”
I screwed my lips into a sideways smirk and concentrated on finishing my dinner. Fast healer, indeed. Short-term memory loss or bullet wounds to the chest, he had repeatedly proven his invincibility, at least to human calamities. Wish the same was true for me.
I finished my meal in silence and cleaned up my trash without further comment from Thorin, but the tension between us needed no words. Light a match and the room would explode. Who needs a match? One touch and I’d probably go up like a roman candle.
After discarding my trash, I returned to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face until the blush drained from my cheeks. I washed my hands and finger-combed knots from my damp hair. Thorin had turned off the TV, and a heavy, dark silence fell over the room. I returned and eased under my bedcovers. “Don’t turn the TV off on account of me,” I said. “I could sleep through a hurricane right now.”
“Oh yeah?” He chuckled, and thunder rumbled in the distance. “Want to prove it?”
“Could you do that? Here? This far from an ocean?”
“Maybe. Would you like me to try?”
“I think it would freak out the locals, but no. After what we’ve been through today, you should rest. You should sleep, but you don’t sleep. So you should meditate, or do whatever it is you do to relax.”
“I sleep sometimes,” he said, soft and low.
“Do you? Do you dream?”
“On occasion.”
“What does the God of Thunder dream of?”
He hesitated. “Sometimes, I dream of fire.”
Sometimes, I dreamed of fire, too. That night, after drifting to sleep, comforted by Thorin’s steady breathing, I dreamed of roaring rivers and runes. I dreamed of echoing darkness and teeth. I dreamed of exploding suns and broken hearts.
Chapter 6
The rumbling of Baldur and Thorin’s voices engaged in quiet conversation woke me before sunrise. The bedside clock showed I had slept for three hours, give or take. Not enough time. Not nearly enough.
“Solina,” Baldur said when I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “Sorry for waking you.” A dim light shone from the overhead fixture, but the rest of the room remained in shadows. Thorin sat across from Baldur, sipping from a takeout coffee cup, and his dark eyes were locked on me in silent contemplation.
I waved off Baldur’s apology. “What’s the news?”
“I was telling Thorin I followed your wolf a ways. A black car stopped and picked him up. Followed it to a private home in a gated community on the outskirts of Vegas. It wasn’t the wolf that got out, though.” Baldur swallowed and looked away. “It was Rolf.”
Silence fell over the room like an avalanche, sudden, suffocating, and cold.
I cleared my throat. “You mean Val?”
Perhaps the revelation of Val’s shape-changing abilities should have surprised me, but I had guessed as much already. The Aesir had forced Val to transform into such a beast thousands of years ago. Apparently, he still retained that ability. He was the son of Loki, the master trickster, after all.
“Do you think he knows you followed him?” I asked.
“He has the ravens,” Thorin said. “He knows everything, remember?”
