This Time Around (Sequel to All Over Again)

Chapter Thirty-Two

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

As the weather turned from autumn to winter, McKenna found the days in Asgard had a way of flying by without her really being aware of just how fast time moved. Her days were busy, between lessons with a new, much more interesting and patient tutor, and the children, as well as several more trips back to New Jersey (always with Loki or Sif) that before she knew it, it was December.

One morning, just before sunrise, McKenna awoke with a start, her heart racing, a cold sweat prickling over her entire body. She sat up, fighting to breathe, to control her heart, to stop shaking.

She dreamt of Grant Ward. He had Selig and as McKenna came through the door into the gray, industrial room, he lifted his gun, aimed it at Selig, and pulled the trigger.

“Thank God,” she breathed, her hand pressed to her forehead even as she shivered with cold. Her camisole was damp, as were her shorts, and the sheets beneath her.

Next to her, Loki slept peacefully, stretched out on his back with one hand on his chest, the other above his head. She didn’t want to disturb him, so she carefully lifted the covers and eased out of the bed. The marble floor was cold, but she bit back her yelp as she skittered across to her armoire to fetch dry clothes.

She peeled off the sweat-dampened clothes and bundled in flannel pj bottoms and an oversized sweatshirt and then tugged on a pair of thick socks. “No sense in worrying about getting back to sleep, because that’s not going to happen,” she muttered as she rolled the sweatshirt’s cuffs back.

As she emerged from her dressing area, she paused, her gaze going to the terrace. Fat snowflakes fell silently beyond the marble, swirling this way and that and she smiled as she padded out onto the terrace. It was cool, but in the flannel and sweatshirt, she was comfortable as she settled into her favorite spot and leaned her head back against the column.

It wasn’t the first time she’d had that dream, but she kept it to herself. Loki had enough to worry about, what with the unrest on Vanaheim and rumblings of Jötunn discontent as well. He hinted that it was possible he and Thor would have to go back to Vanaheim, when only a year had passed since their last diplomatic visit to quell unrest.

Truth be told, the last place she wanted him to have to travel to was Vanaheim, where his ex-fiancée Annelie lived. On that previous mission, she attempted to rekindle things with him, going so far as to kiss him, and the next time she dared set foot in Asgard, McKenna took great delight in punching her out. It wasn’t often she grew violent, but she had to admit, it was one of the most satisfying things she’d ever done.

She sighed softly as she rubbed her tired eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was go back to sleep, because she knew the dream would pick up right where it left off. No. Sitting in the cool night air, watching the snow fall was definitely preferable.

It must have been snowing for a while, as a blanket of white covered the ground and trees, and she smiled as she tugged the sleeves down over her hands. Ever since she was a little girl, she loved the snow, loved to watch it fall, loved how silent the world—be it Asgard or Midgard—seemed whenever snow fell. Especially at night, when she would take long walks in the woods behind her mother’s house and just savor the sound of absolute silence.

“McKenna?” Sleep thickened Loki's voice and she turned to see him standing on the threshold between the terrace and their chambers. He wore only a pair of black boxer briefs, and although the cold most likely didn’t bother him, he still had his arms crossed over his chest, rubbing his upper arms. “What’re you doing out here?”