Chapter Five

Erika shut her eyes as they flew through empty space to the accompanying sound of a scraping noise, like chalk on pavement. At any moment, she expected the belt to snap and for them to tumble to the street below. But they made it safely to the other side, as the surface under her feet indicated.

While she stood regaining her composure, Magnor recovered his belt and looped it around his waist. She noted how he favored his injured arm. It must be hurting him, but the only indications were the fine lines around his mouth.

They entered the shopping mall through a rooftop door, descended three flights of stairs, and emerged through an emergency exit onto the crowded street.

Night was the same as daytime in Las Vegas—mobbed with people crowding the sidewalks, thronged with diners overflowing the outdoor cafés, and swarmed with folks seeking fun, food, and festivity. For some, it was a fantasy of lights, of dreams, and of hope. For others, it was a pit of despair and depravity.

Signage lit up the city like a neon forest against a pitch black sky. Erika and Magnor melted into the crowd. She handed him back his cape, her black dress appropriate among the nightclub set.

Why didn’t the thugs summon the police? She wouldn’t think a resort’s security force had any jurisdiction beyond the doors of their property. As long as she and Magnor kept out of sight of any uniformed cops, they might be okay.

Or not. The resort had her banking info, home address, and other personal details of her life. She swallowed hard as they passed a jewelry store and an ice cream shop.

She couldn’t retrieve the car she’d won and might lose the money she’d deposited into her bank account earlier. Although she had completed the transaction, the resort people could stop payment on the check. But she’d worry about that later, if she and Magnor didn’t get arrested.

Then again, Magnor had returned the artifact he’d borrowed, so what crime had they committed? Unauthorized entry into an exhibit after hours? It didn’t make sense that the goons would waste manpower on chasing them.

Another reason for their persistent interest must exist that had nothing to do with the display. She quivered at the notion, because it would confirm what she’d overheard in the museum. She and Magnor were specific targets for some other sinister purpose.

As soon as they reached safety, she’d ply him with questions. The man would answer them without any further evasion, or she’d—what? Strike out on her own?

At least she still had her purse strapped across her shoulder. Her credit cards would help her get home.

The tall towers of the next resort rose beyond a graceful entry of royal palms and a massive dancing fountain that spurted to music and colorful lighting. A tour bus roared past on the broad avenue, belching fumes. Outside a nightclub, a neon guitar flashed its invitation while cigarette smokers blew puffs at passersby. Erika wrinkled her nose at the smell of diesel exhaust mingled with beer.

Magnor had folded his cape and tucked it under his arm, but his sword still stuck out like a magnet for attention. People glanced their way but then hurried by, fixated on their goals.

A white stretch limo rumbled past with a group of young men hanging out of its open roof hatch and howling at the night. In the distance, a siren wailed. Real life existed beneath the city’s surface, with urban problems like any other place. Only here, they were magnified by the thousands of visitors who mobbed the streets.

She tugged on Magnor’s arm, bringing him to a halt. “Where are we going? We need a plan.”

Adrenalin kept her moving, but soon it would dissipate, and then she’d collapse after the events of the day.

His formidable gaze snagged hers. “We need to disguise ourselves. Your hair stands out in a crowd.”

“So does your sword, my lord.”

He lifted his chin. “My blade is part of me. It stays. However, I will concede the need for some unobtrusive clothing.”

She glanced down the Strip. They’d passed the MGM Grand and were nearly at the Parisian resort. Bellagio was across the street. They’d already walked a couple of blocks away from the Viking Vegas Resort.

“Let’s go in here,” she said, seeing shoppers coming out of Le Boulevard mall. “It’s open until 1:00 am on Fridays.”

“Perfect.”

They ducked inside the impressive marble interior with its high ceilings, blue-tiled fountains, and maze of shops along a boulevard designed to look like a European street.

“Look for a clothing store that has menswear as well as women’s outfits.” She strode forward, past a newsstand selling magazines, snacks, and newspapers. Children’s fashions, home accessories, perfumes and soaps, French wines and cheeses were useless to them. Finally spotting an apparel store, she led Magnor inside.

Thirty minutes later, they departed, pleased with their purchases. Magnor had surprised her by pulling a wad of bills from his pocket. Considering the designer labels on their clothing, she was glad he’d offered to pay.

He wore his same black pants, but an expensive blue French shirt graced his broad shoulders. It hid the ugly mark on his arm. From the way he’d winced when trying on clothes, she didn’t think he would last much longer unless they got medical help.

Regarding the sword, they’d found a music store and he had bought a guitar case. The weapon fit inside. His cape and other gizmos went into a backpack from the boutique.

Erika had suppressed her natural tendencies to choose an attention-grabbing outfit. Instead, she’d selected dark brown pants, a bronze short-sleeved knit top, and ankle-high boots. With a scarf tied over her head and her handbag stuffed into a larger tote, she looked innocuous.

They emerged through Bally’s next door since the malls interconnected. It appeared their new disguises were working as they crossed Flamingo and strolled up the street opposite Caesar’s Palace. Erika’s shoulders drooped and her eyelids sagged. As her adrenalin ebbed, fatigue set in. They’d been on the run for hours.

“We need a place to crash.” She eyed a nearby bench under a shady tree.

“Not yet. The beasts can track you. We must keep moving.”

The warm desert air dried her nostrils and brought the scent of cigarette smoke her way. Ugh. She padded on, feeling adrift in the city. Was this what homeless persons experienced? How awful to have nowhere safe to go.

Magnor poked her arm. “Don’t look now, but people are staring at us. It started a moment ago, like a switch turned on in their brains. They must be confounded souls.”

“What’s that?” Alarm frissoned up her spine.

“They’re spellbound by the Trolleks. We have to turn off that vector device in your watch. It doesn’t matter what we wear. They can still find us.”

Her skin crawled as she felt dozens of eyes aimed their way. “What can we do?”

He darted quick glances from side-to-side. People had started to congregate and move en masse toward them. The denizens had vacant looks on their faces. Soon she and Magnor would be surrounded, and they’d lose their chance to escape. Her heart rate accelerated.

“Quick, go down that alley.” Magnor gave her a shove. “It may lead to a quieter side street.”

Just before they turned to go, a charcoal Toyota Highlander skidded to a stop at the curb. The passenger window rolled down.

“Lord Magnor, get in! I’ll take you to safety.” The driver, an elderly woman with her gray hair in a bun, gestured urgently.

“And you are…?” He hunched his shoulders, a frown creasing his brow.

“I’m Edith, a Gatekeeper. Hurry!”

Strangers grabbed for Erika. Without waiting for Magnor’s approval, she opened the rear car door and dove inside. The interior smelled like rich new leather. She sank back on the soft upholstery, creeped out by the encroaching crowd.

Magnor bumped her hip as he joined her. As soon as he’d slammed the door shut, Edith pressed on the accelerator. They zoomed forward down the main avenue.

The people seemed to snap out of their reverie and resumed their activities as though nothing extraordinary had happened. What could explain it? Erika sought a logical reason, but nothing came to mind.

She rubbed a hand over her face, too weary to think.

Magnor leaned forward and tapped on the older woman’s shoulder. She’d left the main boulevard and drove with reckless haste through the city streets, charging through intersections.

“Edith, your name is familiar. Did you not aid my leader’s mate, Nira Larsen?”

“Indeed, I did, milord. My kind has been aiding the Drift Lords for generations. I am honored you came in my time.”

“And we are grateful for your interception just now, but how did you know we needed assistance?”

She glanced at him through the rear view mirror. “We know many things. Like, I brought you a tissue regenerator. It should heal that nasty wound on your arm.”

Magnor caught the instrument that she tossed to him, rolled up his sleeve, and panned it over his scorched flesh. As new, pink skin filled in, the taut lines around his mouth vanished.

Erika watched with narrowed eyes but didn’t comment. Instead, she addressed Edith.

“Is this car yours? Because it looks very similar to the vehicle we won at the resort.”

Edith gave an eerie chuckle. “You’re very astute, missy. Yes, this is your car. I hope you don’t mind that I signed the release form under your name.”

“No, I’m grateful. They would never have let us take it from their garage.”

The hackles on Erika’s nape rose. Something struck her as odd about this woman. Had they made a mistake and gone from the frying pan into the fire?

****

Magnor observed his wife’s anxious expression and knew that explanations were due. He’d rather wait until they were somewhere safe to reveal her role in the prophecy. More importantly, he had to contact Nira to see how to turn off Erika’s vector device.

Each one of the prophesied Earth women had a wristwatch similar to the one Erika wore. It’s what identified them, along with a birthmark between their right index and middle fingers. He’d already verified Erika’s mark. That was more innocuous than the timepiece, which once activated, made her a target.

Hopefully, Edith would take them somewhere shielded from the Trolleks. He trusted her to an extent. Askr had claimed to be a Gatekeeper too, and yet the old man had turned out to be an agent of Loki. Magnor couldn’t fully put his faith in these unnatural shapeshifters.

Although they drove away from the raucous city, he also knew he’d have to return to complete his mandate. Trollek recruitment centers were to be destroyed. He assumed the Viking Vegas Resort held one, although he had yet to find the portal there. Then he’d continue on his main mission after Nira translated the scroll.

Erika shifted beside him, and his attention skewed her way. A sigh escaped her lips. She must be confused and exhausted. A wave of guilt hit him in the gut. He’d dragged her into this quagmire. Now she was his responsibility.

He patted her hand. “We’ll be all right, my knesta.”

She moistened her lips. “Will we? I don’t understand a thing. What happened tonight? Who are you?”

“I am your husband.” Temporarily, at least. Regret rippled through him. He’d never be bored coupled to a lady like her, but neither did he have anything to offer her.

She cast him a suspicious glance. “It’s possible you and Edith are in cahoots. Is this what you do, steal artifacts and sell them on the black market? How do I know you put back the real scroll? You might have done a switch and handed off the genuine article to your partner here. And now you’re going to do me in so you can have the prize money, too.”

She scrubbed her hands over her face. “Oh, God. Why did I let you talk me into entering that contest?”

“I told you, I don’t want the money. My kewa stones—diamonds—bring me all the cash I need. As for your other allegations, they’re absurd.”

He sat rigid, insulted by her suggestions. How dare she believe him capable of such crimes?

And yet, hadn’t he been accused of worse on his home world? Hadn’t his lifelong friends believed his sister over him?

He stared out the side window, his jaw tight. Edith didn’t say a word and concentrated on driving. She took them out of town on a highway heading for the hills.

Cactus and scrub brush dotted the dry land. Without the city lights, the night was black as pitch. Stars glowed overhead. Observing them, Magnor ached for the familiarities of home. Never again could he return to his mountainous haven on a distant planet. He’d been cast out, accused of a heinous crime. To go home meant death.

Eventually he became aware of Erika’s steady breathing and risked a glance at her. She’d fallen asleep, her head bent at an uncomfortable angle. Against his better judgment, he put an arm around her and leaned her body toward his.

Her soft hair tickled his nose. He inhaled her scent, a tantalizing fragrance reminiscent of cinnamon. His loins stirred; he couldn’t help it. Her warmth and closeness aroused him.

He stroked her arm. No matter what her opinion of him, he was duty-bound to protect her. She had no idea of the forces gathering to stop them.

****

Erika roused from her exhausted slumber to the sound of mumbled voices. She lay still, disoriented and uncertain of her surroundings. She’d been in a car, fleeing Las Vegas with the man she called husband.

Her eyelids fluttered open. She lay on a couch in a cozy living room. Magnor flopped in an armchair, his eyes half-closed, a police procedural playing on the TV.

“Where are we?” She forced herself upright.

He sprang to his feet, looking instantly alert. “What? Who comes near us?”

She ran her fingers through her tousled hair. “Calm down. There’s no one else here.” Her gaze narrowed. “Where’s Edith?”

He waved a hand in dismissal. “She is gone.”

Erika rose and stretched. Outside, the sky brightened as dawn broke in a tangerine sunrise.

Their car was parked in a dirt driveway. A quick surveillance told her they inhabited a small house at the end of an unpaved road and at the foot of a mountain. A few scraggly trees stood around but not much else. Her chest squeezed. She was alone with this madman, and nobody knew her location…except perhaps for those thugs who could track her.

She whirled to face Magnor, who’d turned off the TV. “Our car is still here. How did Edith leave? Did she fly away?” With all the weird stuff that had been happening lately, Erika wouldn’t be surprised.

His mouth curved upward, and his eyes danced with mirth. “You might say that. Are you thirsty? Can I get you some water?”

“I could really use a cup of coffee.” Her temples throbbed, and she rubbed her brow.

“Nira taught us how to brew the drink. I will make it.”

Nira, again? She couldn’t wait to meet this paragon. “Did you hear back from her about the translation of the scroll?”

“Not yet. You need not fear the Trolleks here. This place is shielded from their vector jumps.” He turned about, presumably heading for the kitchen. “You’ll find clothing in the bedroom if you want to change.”

Their safe house was quaint, she noted upon inspection. It had a master bedroom suite in the rear, a modern kitchen, and an expansive living area. The latter’s stone fireplace, rich wood trim, and Southwestern accents lent a cozy feel to the place.

While her warrior busied himself in the kitchen, Erika made use of the bathroom facilities. She took a shower, washed her hair, and then rummaged in a set of drawers where a variety of underwear rested in neat folds.

She selected a bra and panties that fit, rinsed out her own undergarments and hung them to dry, and chose a caramel cotton top and khaki pants from the closet. The air-conditioning unit strained in the background as she dressed, donning her newly purchased boots last. Her other new clothes she folded into the tote she’d bought.

Her hair took longer to comb out than usual. It was a mess of tangles and hurt as she yanked on the knots. Giving up in frustration, she found a clip and pinned the curls atop her head. Then she retrieved her purse, popped a cinnamon flavored mint into her mouth and applied her makeup. Thank goodness she carried the essentials along with her.

Magnor called that the coffee was ready. By the time she reached the kitchen, he’d heated some French toast from the freezer. Two plates, utensils, and syrup sat on the table.

A smile lit her lips, and she gave him an appreciative nod. He held out the chair for her and she took it graciously, as though this had been their morning routine for years.

His handsome good looks weren’t lost on her, either. Her gaze feasted on his broad shoulders and muscular form as he seated himself in the opposite chair. He wore a clean shirt and his same trousers from the previous night. He’d trimmed his beard, and in the light of day, he had a rakish look about him that appealed to her.

“How long do we have to stay here?” she asked between bites. The French toast tasted a bit stale, but she could live with it. She gulped the coffee down after adding sweetener and a touch of cream from those little cups that don’t need refrigeration. Someone had stocked this place well enough.

Magnor shrugged. He’d wolfed down half his food in the time it took her to cut her portion into pieces.

“We’ll wait until I hear back from Nira.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I’m due some explanations.” Including why you involved me in this mess. “Start talking.”

“Very well.” He put his fork down, meeting her gaze squarely. “You’ve heard of the Bermuda Triangle? Just as the Earth has tectonic plates, dimensional plates exist on a cosmic energy level. These fuel an electromagnetic grid that intersects the planet at twelve geographic points named vile vortices. The Bermuda Triangle sits on one of these sites, known for their anomalous activity.”

“Huh?” She’d heard stories of the Bermuda Triangle, wherein ships and planes vanished and compasses went awry. But the rest of his jargon didn’t register.

He must have interpreted her blank look for curiosity because he continued. “When the plates grind against each other, the pressure forces open a door between dimensions.”

She held up her hand in a stop sign. “Wait a minute. Between dimensions?” Was the man delusional, or did he watch too much science fiction on TV?

“Just listen.” His voice edged with irritation. “Normally, the event horizon at this natural rift produces a substance called cors particles. When their mass reaches a critical level, the resultant pressure forces the rifts to close. But this time, the Trolleks have found a way to force the gateway open, and through it they have invaded Earth.”

She pushed herself away from the table and stood. “All right, you’re freaking me out. I know that things have been weird lately, but really? Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I do not jest.” His eyes shone like two chunks of polished granite. “The Trolleks turn humans into mind slaves with a chemical transmitted through touch. They’ve confounded large numbers of individuals at all levels of society. Their plan was to activate these sleeper agents when their armies were ready to invade, but my team sealed the portals.”

She shook her head. “This is too much, Magnor. I can’t take it all in, never mind whether or not you’re for real.”

His brows folded together. “You have to understand. Your role is critical in defeating these beasts. The Trolleks who remain on this side of the gate may be stranded, but that won’t stop them. And they’re not the only threat. They serve a greater evil—the demon, Loki.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. I should have known the devil would enter into this equation somewhere.”

“Loki is not a fallen angel like in your biblical fables. He was a companion of the gods until they banished him for his evil deeds. Nira can tell you more about him. She has studied the mythology.”

“And who exactly is this wondrous woman? I can’t wait to meet her.”

“She is from Earth, like you. Note the inscription on your wristwatch if you doubt me. It identifies your place in the prophecy. The six daughters of Odin must unite with the six sons of Thor to prevent a coming disaster known as Ragnarok.”

Erika sank into her chair, her head swirling with unfamiliar terms. None of this could be true, could it?

“So you’re saying my job is to prevent this apocalypse?”

“Aye, that is so. Loki aims to cause the destruction of the multiverse so he can rule over the ensuing chaos. All six of you women have special powers, including the ability to resist the Trollek hypnotic spell.”

“You said they take over people’s minds through touch.” She pointed at him, hoping to derail his fantasy. Either this guy was a sicko who needed to be committed, or else she’d fallen down the rabbit hole. “So how come you weren’t affected?”

His face split into a wide grin. “I kissed you. Our mingling transfers your immunity to me.”

“What? You kissed me to protect yourself against their magic spell?”

He waved a hand. “It isn’t magic. As I mentioned, it’s a chemical response—”

“I heard you. Can I not trust a single thing you say?”