Runed by Kendall Grey

Author:Kendall Grey [Grey, Kendall]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781947830202
Publisher: Howling Mad Press, LLC
Published: 2019-03-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

There are parties, and then there are PARTIES. Freddie draws a sharp contrast between the two by showing Gunnar Magnusson, Huginn, and me the difference.

We spend the entire night gallivanting through New York via something he calls “Uber.” Uber takes us to clubs where we dance with hundreds of other Midgardians. We hit bars and drink liquor. We eat more suckers. We end up outside someone’s house “grilling” chicken “shish kebabs” at four in the morning. Huginn is so stoned, he enjoys several cannibalistic bites before sleep gets the better of him, and he nods off in my lap, a few shreds of some unfortunate cousin’s flesh dangling from the corner of his beak.

We end our night when the sun comes up and Uber arrives to take us home. Sitting beside me in the back seat, Gunnar Magnusson looks exhausted. He didn’t have any suckers, but he did drink a few beers. Freddie is on my other side, happily sedated. Huginn snores loudly on my thighs. A small puddle of chicken spit has accumulated on my breeches. I’m so happy, I don’t even care.

When Uber man tells us we’ve arrived, we stumble out of the vehicle and up the big brick stairs toward Freddie’s brownstone. Gunnar Magnusson stands behind me, guiding my uncooperative feet one step at a time. Once inside, he and Freddie slap hands the same way they did at the airport and bump chests. I try to mimic their hand motions with Freddie, but I fail miserably and squash my breast painfully when I chest-butt him.

“Ow!” I rub the spot. “I keep forgetting I have boobs.”

Freddie bursts into laughter. “You crack me up, Loki.”

Gunnar Magnusson smiles tersely and takes my hand. “Let’s get you to bed.”

I don’t complain.

“Huginn,” I slur, “you stay down here and guard the door. Don’t let anybody in here, especially not that old fart, Odin.” I hold a bent finger to my lips and wink languidly at him.

SQUARRRRRRK! “You got it, boss.” He promptly tips over on the carpet near the door, lids half-closed, gnarly legs sticking out, and resumes snoring.

“Good night, mates,” Freddie calls over his shoulder as he heads up to his room.

I face the challenge of the next set of stairs and determine they’ve already beaten me by virtue of the fact that I can no longer stand up. My legs buckle, and Gunnar Magnusson swoops in for the save.

Cradling me in his strong arms, he stares down into my face, picking my bits apart from the outside in. What is he thinking? He’s proven himself an honorable man. He won’t take advantage of me, but I wouldn’t complain if he changed his mind.

This man baffles me. My feelings for him are even more baffling. In my old life as the trickster god, I transformed into female animals many times, but it never affected me the way this body has. I thought by now my urges would have normalized. Maybe women truly do have the same desires as men, and this is the new normal?

“Sleep now, Loki,” he says, laying me in the bed.

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