False Gods (Sins of the Father 2)

“You will come with me, please,” the man said. There was something about his accent I couldn’t quite place. It was vaguely European. Germanic, maybe?

I kept my eyes trained on the extra large stranger, my other hand clasping my – sorry, Beatrice’s handbag, damn it – and quietly, I imagined the haft of a dagger sitting in my hand. “I’m sorry,” I said carefully. “But I’m just out here enjoying a nice cup of coffee with my good friend.”

Florian and I locked eyes as I said that. He’d acted fast. He’d already kicked off one of his shoes, putting his bare foot in the soil of a nearby potted plant. Weird to see, and comical, to most, but if he triggered his nature magic, then all hell would break loose. He could tangle this fool up in vines and tear him apart, or I could drive divine steel between a couple of his ribs and end the fight right there. No sweat. But I knew what Florian was thinking. We were in a public space occupied by normals. Lots and lots of innocent, defenseless normals. We couldn’t just violate the Veil like that. I had enough heat on me already.

The man’s face barely moved when he spoke again. “I am afraid that I must insist.” His massive hand, nearly the size of my face, landed on my shoulder, and I nearly cried out at the freezing cold of his fingers against my bare skin. Sorry. Too bad for the arcane underground and the Veil that separated us supernaturals from the normals. This was a matter of life or death.

I clenched my fingers as the dagger from the Vestments appeared in my hand, then drove it up into the tall man’s belly. He didn’t grunt, nor did he react at all when the blade bounced harmlessly off his stomach, which was as hard as friggin’ steel. I wasn’t expecting that. My hand twisted from the speed of my blow, and the dagger flew from my fingers, fading into dust before it even hit the ground. If the giant man was amused by my shock, he didn’t show it.

“Florian, run,” I shouted, dancing out from under the man’s arms as he tried to lock me in a bear hug. I prepared to take off in the opposite direction, only to find a second, exact copy of my exceedingly large attacker.

Just like Sadriel’s bodyguards, it didn’t matter that these guys were enormous. They moved with the speed of someone half their size. I didn’t even manage to let out a proprietary “Ah, nuts.” The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the massive fist connecting with my face.

7

It was cold when I came to. Well, colder, at least, and for the first time that day I regretted my decision to wear a tank top and shorts. It was dark, and the two goons had dumped me in some kind of chair. A comfy one, it felt like. I smacked my lips, wondering why my head didn’t feel like someone had caved it in. Really, it was almost like waking up from a deep, dare I say, refreshing sleep.

Then I yawned, and an electric, stabbing pain shot through my face. I yelped, agony shooting up my jaw as I clutched it and doubled over. So that’s where the fucker punched me. I blinked back tears, gritting my teeth, praying and waiting for the angel half of me to kick in and help my cells regenerate.

“Oh, goodness,” said a voice, this one soft and smooth as silk and honey.

It was a familiar one, too, and my heart lurched when I realized who the giant men had taken me to. I bit down hard, fighting away the pain, refusing to show that I was succumbing to it. Just a bruise, I thought, just some busted up bone and muscle. I was going to be fine. I leaned back, gripped the sides of my chair, then slowly forced my eyes open, hoping I was wrong.

Nope. I knew that shit-eating grin anywhere.

The room I was being held in was brighter now, softly lit by a single, swinging incandescent bulb hanging from the ceiling, like I was in some kind of interrogation. The light made my jaw hurt even more somehow, but I held on, my fingers digging into my armchair.

Across from me, sitting in a copy of said armchair, was the man with the silken voice. He smiled at me, wearing a suit that could have been his second skin, his dark hair swept up and out of his face, his eyes glinting with mild amusement. I grimaced, then groaned.

“Loki,” I grumbled. “Great. Just great.”

He chuckled softly, still smiling. “And it is a pleasure to see you once again, nephilim.”

I rubbed the side of my jaw, my hand betraying my attempt to look like a big, strong man. “That little kidnapping attempt really wasn’t necessary. That punch really fucking hurt. It was like being hit in the face with a bowling ball.”

Loki shook his head and tutted, looking to one corner of the room w

here, I just noticed, a small squad of his extra large employees were standing. “I must express my disappointment, gentlemen. I told you to be very careful with this one, didn’t I? Mason Albrecht is our guest, not just someone you club on the head and throw into a burlap sack.”

Sack? I clutched at myself when he said it, concerned about Beatrice’s bag, but it had been sitting in my lap all along. I sighed in relief.

“Sir,” one of the huge men said, his voice shivering. “I swear, I will do better in future. Please, don’t – ”

Loki waved his hand. “It’s fine. Pray, don’t make this mistake again, but for now – it’s fine. But do apologize to our friend Mason here.”

The man folded over and bowed, which was nearly comical when the bowing man in question was over seven feet tall. He was terrified. I shook my head at him, but what else was I going to do? “Yeah, whatever,” I grumbled.

Loki waved one hand again, resting his chin in the palm of the other. “You may go. All of you. Please.”

The men lumbered out of a door towards the back of the room, the shuffling of their feet and the commanding echoes of Loki’s voice giving away the size of it. We were in a warehouse, somewhere. I could just make out a pallet of crates in the corner.

“You run a tight ship,” I muttered.

“That? Oh, it’s nothing.” He buffed his nails against his jacket, smiling smugly. “It’s been a while since I’ve made an example out of any of them, because it really isn’t necessary. Frost giants are very obedient, once you show them who’s boss.”

That explained a hell of a lot, the size of them, first off, and the radiating chill of their bodies. But Loki’s comment made me think back to Sadriel and how she’d bullet-penned one of her own men right in the face. Funny, how that worked. No matter where they came from, no matter their cultures or origins, the entities really only wanted one thing: power. I dug my nails into the leather armrests, watching, waiting for Loki to tell me exactly how he was planning to use me for his own ends.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I summoned you here.”