Thorin’s head tilted, and his brows drew together. “What’s that?”

“Baldur. He’s an expert in searching for missing women, no?”

Thorin nodded.

“And how does he do that? Cross his fingers and pray for good luck?”

“He’s created an extensive information-gathering network,” Thorin said. “He’s always had such a thing, in one form or another. He’s always used it to find Nina.”

“Information-gathering network?” I laughed. “How come, when you say that, I picture courier pigeons and tin cans strung between bedroom windows? How’s his Morse code?”

“Don’t be so critical,” Thorin said. “You’d be surprised how well we’ve adapted over the years.”

“Okay, then. You’ve proven my point. Baldur is our best chance for finding Skyla. Let’s get to Baldur, plug Skyla into his system, and see what turns up. At the same time, we can track down Skoll.”

“And then what?”

I rubbed my hands together and grinned. “Then we kill him.”

Thorin had arrived via Aesir Interdimensional Expressway, and he didn’t offer to take us to New Breidablik on the same route. One of these days, I’m going to find out how they move around like they do. Instead, Thorin whipped out his cell phone and made a call, to order a car to come pick us up. After securing our transportation, Thorin called Val and shared our plans to reunite with Baldur at New Breidablik.

“If you want to know the details,” Thorin said, “meet us at the Executive Airport in Sacramento… Yes, Sacramento… Don’t ask. I’ll tell you later.”

“We’re taking your jet?” I asked after Thorin ended the call.

“No. It’s booked. We’ll charter a private flight.”

God of Thunder and Lord of Deep Pockets. The Aesir’s wealth was a handy resource for funding the prevention of the apocalypse. Sometimes, I felt a little guilty about all the money the Aesir spent on my behalf, but my logical side overruled my shame. It would’ve really sucked to have to say, “Sorry world, could have saved you, but I was too short on cash.”

After a while, a sleek black car rolled up to our door and honked. Thorin escorted me from the motel room and opened the car’s rear door. I eased into the buttery leather interior, all plush and full of new-car smell. Maybe I swooned a little. Thorin tossed my tote bags in the trunk and slipped around the car. He slid into the seat beside me and gave me a smug smile.

I waved in a gesture that encompassed the whole car. “Are you for real?”

“What do you mean?” Thorin asked as the driver reversed out of the parking lot, shifted into drive, and pulled onto the highway.

“I thought these were the cars the villains were supposed to drive.”

Thorin smirked. “Who says I’m the good guy?”

“You’re one of the few not trying to kill me. Makes you a good guy in my book.”

“Have you never been in a car like this before, Sunshine?”

I snorted and thought of the plain white Civic sitting in my driveway at my parents’ house. I’d had that car since high school, and I had bought it already used and well worn. “I don’t really roll with the Jag-you-wah crowd,” I said, pronouncing the name in a bad British accent.

Thorin winked. “Then you’ve been missing out.” He barked something in a foreign language, and the driver stomped the gas pedal. The car leapt forward like a thoroughbred eager to run. My pulse took off along with it.

“What about cops with radar guns?” I asked, breathless. “I thought you said police complicated things.”

Thorin stared out his window as the highway roared past us. “Do you trust me, Sunshine?”

That was a loaded question if ever there was one. I closed my eyes, leaned back against the headrest, and tried to loosen my choke-hold grip on the door handle. “Yes,” I croaked. “Why do you think I called you over anyone else?”

Thorin’s response came after a lengthy pause. Maybe my frankness confounded him. That would be a first.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he said. “Try to relax and enjoy the ride.”

Val Wotan met us in the entrance hall of the Sacramento Executive Airport, a small annex for private jets near the larger, commercial airport. The moment I sighted Val’s familiar face, my emotions jumped up and took off in a confusing swirl. Anger partnered with affection and spun a dizzying waltz. Antipathy and longing locked eyes and stalked around each other like partners in a hostile tango.

Val set his mouth in a thin line. His jaw jutted, and blue sparks glinted in his narrow stare.

“This is going to be a long trip if you’re going to insist on brooding all the way to New Breidablik,” I said as I passed him on my way into the airport’s small lobby.

“I’m not brooding,” Val said through gritted teeth. He stalked behind me, and I imagined him panting and growling like an angry bear. “You lied to me, and I am trying desperately hard not to shake you until your teeth rattle.”

I hacked a derisive laugh and spun around to face him. “You haven’t learned anything, have you? Don’t you know by now that I don’t respond well to threats?”

Val sneered. “Maybe I need another lesson.”

“You’re being a humongous jerk about something that isn’t that big of a deal.”

Val’s face shifted, and something pained and frightened showed in his expression. He stepped closer and loomed over me. He didn’t touch me, but he had to know his superior height and size intimidated me. Except for a desk clerk, whose attention Thorin was currently occupying, the tiny airport lobby was empty. No one noticed Val’s hostility. So much for airport security.

“You were gone for nine weeks,” Val said in a strained voice. “We didn’t know what happened to you other than you lied to us and ran off from the Aerie’s relative safety with three women of disputable loyalty. There was no one to fight, no quest to undertake to bring you back, no oracle to consult.

“Just… poof”—Val spread his fingers to mime smoke disbursing through air—“you were gone. And you think I’m supposed to act like nothing happened? You think I’m being unreasonable? Get a clue.”

Well, when he puts it like that…

Val leaned down, and his eyes bored into mine. “You might hate me, Solina. But every moment you were gone was agony for me. Don’t ever do that again.” Without giving me an opportunity to form a rebuttal, Val dropped his gaze and turned his back to me.

I didn’t hate Val, but I didn’t like him a whole lot, either, and I refused to placate him or soothe his ego with apologies and self-justifications. I shouldn’t have to. I haven’t done anything wrong.

Thorin finished checking in with the counter clerk and returned to the waiting area, where Val and I stood in a cold and stifling cloud of silence. Thorin glanced between us, rolled his eyes, and motioned for us to follow him outside. A sexy, lustrous charter jet awaited us, and it brought to mind glossy Tag Heuer and Polo advertisements. In the commercial playing in my head, some exotic creature, a leopard or a panther, descended the airplane’s steps wearing a diamond-studded collar.

She was no slinky jungle cat, but the flight attendant who greeted us was close enough. She introduced herself with, “My name’s Samantha, but please just call me Sam,” and purred over Thorin and Val. She moved about the cabin with preternatural grace despite her three-inch heels. I didn’t hate her for her sophistication and elegance, but man, I really wanted to.

While the guys settled into their seats, I went to the galley and searched for something to drink. The flight attendant tried to intercept me, insisting she would provide the refreshments.

“I got it under control,” I said. “I’m professionally trained and everything.”

She arched a manicured eyebrow, shrugged, and turned away. I passed beer bottles to the guys and sat down with my own tumbler of ice and Diet Coke.

“I know you’ve already explained everything to Thorin,” Val said. He leaned back in his seat, folded his hands in his lap, and kept his face arranged in a pleasantly neutral expression—neither apologetic nor critical. “But I’d like to hear it for myself. Tell me everything that happened from the moment I last saw you at the Aerie.”