FROST- Jotun Chronicles #1

Master of Disguise

My back was pressing so hard into the doorframe that it hurt. My first instance was to turn and run, but where could I run to? He was standing between me and the door. My voice came out shaky, “Are you here to kill me?”

                Loki spread his hands reassuringly, as if to prove he held no weapon, “I’m not here to hurt you, I promise. Will you just hear me out?”

                “Do I have a choice?” I wrapped my arms over my chest, feeling horribly exposed. Loki looked embarrassed. “Why don’t you go put a bath robe on, then I’ll explain.”

                That was probably a good idea. I backed into the bathroom, keeping an eye on him the entire time, yanking one of the thick cotton robes from the back of the door. I shrugged into it, tying it on over the towel. That was better. Now that I wasn’t standing in front of him half naked I felt a little braver. If he tried something I’d kick the crap out of him. At least Lief’s torturous hand to hand combat lessons were good for something. I folded my arms and arched a brow at him critically,

                “Explain. You had better do a damn good job of it too. I read your text messages.”

                “I know,” Loki ran one hand through his curly hair, soft brown eyes searching my face. He seemed hesitant, “I’m sorry. I should have told you. “

                “Should have told me what? That you were supposed to kill me?”

                “No, that I had decided that I couldn’t the moment I met you.”

                I narrowed my eyes at him in alarm, “So you were meant to kill me!”

                Loki rubbed his forehead, “technically, yes. We were aware of the Queen’s little experiment with her husband and the genetic memories. Surtr decided that if they didn’t have you to rally behind, they might not try to annihilate us again.” He shook his head, “But when I got into the back of that van and saw you, I just couldn’t do it.” He laughed abruptly, a sound devoid of humor, “I’ve killed in battle before, but…when it came down to it, there’s no way I could just slaughter someone who was completely helpless.”

                Anger and confusion were battling for dominance within me, “Well, doesn’t that just make you a saint,” I glared at him, “so where exactly where you taking me then? Were you really going to  take me to California and help me escape?”

                “That was the original plan, but obviously that the Queen pretty much thinks of you as her daughter now, there’s no way she’d ever give up the search. That’s not an option anymore.”

                 I said incredulously, “There are no options! I’m staying right here. I don’t trust you at all.”

                “I know,” Loki’s face was earnest, “I don’t blame you. But you can’t stay here.”

                My voice came out in a growl, “What are you talking about…”

                Loki took a step closer, and again I backed up, bumping my shoulder on the doorframe. His voice was low and urgent, “Queen Eira is a nutcase, Megan.”

                It had been so long since anyone other than Charlotte had called me Megan. It made my stomach drop to realize I’d started to think of myself as Amora. Was I forgetting my real identity? Would the part of me that was Megan keep disappearing a bit at a time until it was completely gone? I wasn’t sure I wanted to be Amora. And I certainly wasn’t ready to lead anyone into battle.