“Yes. The first one.”
“First?”
“It was their plan to sacrifice themselves in a battle against the forces of Chaos so mankind could survive and prosper.”
“You read those comic books, too, don’t you?” I closed my eyes as his fingers brushed over my skin, his touch gentle and warm.
“Odin was killed by the wolf Fenrir. Thor was killed by the venom of a giant serpent called Jormungand. Thor killed the serpent, but in its death throes the snake spat venom on Thor, and they both died.”
“Ironic.”
“Hmmm,” Thorin replied. “So, you see, Val and I cannot be these mythical beings because they passed away eons ago.”
“So Skyla is totally off base.”
“Hmmm,” he said again, which was no answer at all.
“Unless we were all hallucinating, something strange happened out there in the grove of trees the night the wolf attacked us. I need it explained. I need to know why wolves, or men who pretend to be wolves, are intent on killing me. I need to know how I did the things I did, too.”
“I’d like to know those things, as well,” Thorin said as he tore off a strip of tape. He patted it onto my shoulder and slid the bathrobe’s collar over it. “Val tries to tell you he wants to protect you because he cared about Mani and he cares about you. There may be truth in his claims. I don’t question that aspect of his motive. It is not for me to know.”
“But he also wants to keep you under his care because he wants to know what Skoll and Hati want with you and your brother. I want to know this as well. I am willing to tell you that without trying to manipulate your emotions. I am not interested in your feelings, just your value as a source of information.”
“My, aren’t we suddenly Mr. Verbose?” I said. “You admit to having a stake in my survival?”
Thorin put the first aid kit’s contents in order. “For now.”
“What is your stake?”
“You’re persistent, aren’t you?”
I cocked an eyebrow and waited.
Thorin leaned back against the sofa and laced his fingers behind his head. The pose emphasized the bulk in his arms and shoulders. “It is possible your survival has a direct impact on me. It is in my interest to keep you alive.”
“Have wolves been trying to nibble on you as well?” I asked.
Thorin smirked. “They wouldn’t dare.”
“Your explanations are sorry, and I still have no confidence in you.”
“Get used to it. We’re going to be spending quite a lot of time together.”
“We are?”
Thorin nodded. “Starting now. Get dressed. We’re getting out of here.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Thorin said, his smirk turning into a grin. “Without Little Red Riding Hood, the woodsman would have had a hard time trapping the Big Bad Wolf.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Why should I go anywhere with you?” I asked Thorin. “You say ‘jump’ and expect me to pull out my pogo stick? You should know me better than that by now. You’re going to have to give me more information first.”
“We’re going to Juneau,” Thorin said and rose from the couch. “There are some people there that we need to see.”
I folded my arms over my chest and made no indication I planned to leave the couch anytime soon. He could be stubborn with his short answers. I could be even more stubborn. “Why do both of us need to go?”
“Number one, so I can keep an eye on you, and number two, you make much better bait if you’re visible.”
I gulped. “Bait?”
Thorin grinned, baring his teeth at me. “Wolf bait.”
If I refused to go with Thorin, Skyla would help me in whatever way she could, but the wolf attack and Skyla’s subsequent research had turned our investigation on its head. I was at a loss for what to do next. Thorin admitted he knew little more than I did, but I had a feeling the bit he knew was crucial to unraveling the mystery of Mani’s murder. If he wanted to go to Juneau to hunt for more information, and keeping company with him would lead to finding more answers, then it made sense to go with him, even if it meant facing that damned wolf again. Either way, it sure beat sitting around Siqiniq, clueless and hiding in the apartment.
Thorin smiled like he knew he had me on his hook. “What are you going to do if you stay here? Lay around some more? Shall I order you a box of bonbons?”
Well, that did it. I took accusations of idleness and indifference as serious fighting words. I stood up and scowled at Thorin. “Okay, you got me. I’ll be your bait. Let’s go to Juneau.”
After my concession to join Thorin on his “excursion,” he directed me to go downstairs into his store and pick out a cold-weather wardrobe. I layered up in a fleece jacket, thermal T-shirt, Gore-Tex-lined pants and boots, and a heavy parka. Thorin had changed as well: hiking pants, a wool fisherman’s sweater, and an insulated waterproof jacket. He had also asked me to pack an overnight bag.
“Why the insistence on winter gear?” I asked.
“It’s going to be a cold ride.”
I shook my head and rubbed a hand over my face. Getting answers from Thorin was like trying to get a jammed-up Snickers bar out of a stubborn vending machine. “How long does it take to get to Juneau?” I asked.
