Lizbet’s idea of a safe house was the upper floor of a house in one of the better parts of Southeast. It was, at least, more comfortable than the basement I had spent most of the summer in with Thruor; but it didn’t feel quite as safe.

Kanesha made sure the curtains were secured over the windows and then, presumably trusting us, headed for one of the beds and passed out again, fully clothed.

I sat in the front room, sipping hot chocolate Lizbet had found somewhere. Although I knew she was technically some kind of ghost, she was drinking it herself.

Illusion or reality? I wasn’t sure how all of this worked. Magic things seemed to follow some of the same laws of physics as mundane things – although I wasn’t sure about the angel.

“I met an angel today.”

“Poor thing. They’re very stuffy. Too many rules on them.”

I shrugged, not sure if she was expressing sympathy for the angel or for me, or perhaps both. “He seemed okay. They’re annoyed that the fire giants are being so, well…”

“Cinematic. That’s going to annoy everyone. It’s nice to give the mortals…most of them…their illusions.” She grinned.

“Didn’t you used to be mortal?”
She nodded. “Once. I’m one of the lucky ones.” She glanced towards the bedroom. “That one’s yours.” It sounded like Kanesha was my pet.

“I suppose…”

“No, she is. You might not be able to tell, but valkyries can and we can.”

“If you mean she’s loyal to me, she is. But I don’t own her soul or anything like that.” I shivered again at the thought.

“You mean you don’t want to.” A pause. “You don’t want to any more than I do. But you’re Aesir. It’s part of what you are and if you care for somebody that much…”

“…you’re saying it would happen that way whether I want it to or not.” The idea didn’t appeal that much, but then, maybe it shouldn’t. Maybe that would keep me from turning into some kind of arrogant asshole. Odin had seemed pretty arrogant, but he was a king. He was entitled. I…?

“Pretty much. Get used to it.”

“Just don’t call me Lokisdottir. Please. That makes me feel like I’m some kind of…marriage bait or something.”

Lizbet laughed. “Jane doesn’t feel right either.”

“I’m kind of used to it.” And I hadn’t, quite, managed to ask my mother my real name. Which was stupid. I’d had the chance and I hadn’t taken it.

I’d ask. Next time I had the opportunity, I would ask, and maybe I could at least get people to call me that.

Lokisdottir. Marriage bait. No, I would not be that.