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“I want only you to know the truth. To know me.”
“I know enough, so don’t sweat it.”
As she started kissing him again, he stopped her. “What do you know?”
She sighed, as if in resignation that she had to satisfy him before he would her. “You call yourself a Lokian, and since you’re a Viking and a shifter, you clearly follow a religion founded around Loki, the trickster, shape-shifting Norse god.”
“It’s not a religion, but a Legion, sworn to uphold Loki’s code. That of protecting and fostering outcasts.”
“Loki was—or, now that I know he exists—is an outcast himself, right? According to the comics and movies, he’s also a villain.”
“That’s what is advertised by his rival Asgardian gods, mainly Odin and Freyja. They, and those
who believe in them in Midgard—Earth—consider Loki and his followers abominations.”
“Because of their shifting, right?” He nodded. “So the villain part is bad press that stuck.”
“Pretty much. Loki’s eternal battle isn’t about gaining power through deceit, as they say, but fighting for his right to be different, to maintain his rightful place among the gods without conforming. To that end, he formed his Legion of like-minded mortals a few millennia ago. He started with the Originals, twelve Legionnaires with the strongest shifting and illusory powers. I am one of those. He granted us immortality and sent us out to recruit outcasts like us, to foster the Gifts that had made Normals reject them, and bring them under Loki’s protection.”
“And that’s something, I bet.”
“Loki is very generous to his followers, yes. The problem is, throughout the ages we’ve had to initially gain our recruits’ trust through trickery. Apart from the paranormal element that would make most freak if confronted with the truth up front, the paranoia against Loki is very well established.”
“And that helps your enemies paint you as villains.”
He squeezed her breast in appreciation. “You got it. Sharp and brilliant. Is it any wonder I constantly want to ravish you until you faint with pleasure?”
She reciprocated by nipping his chest. “I constantly want to ride you to oblivion, too, so we’re even. So, you trick people into signing on to your Legion?”
“No. Once the hurdle of approach is over, it’s our code to leave them free to make the decision, even though that ensures that few throughout the ages pledge allegiance, even with the possibility of immortality as one of the perks.”
“So not everyone in the Legion is immortal?”
“Being a candidate for immortality takes specific power levels, personality traits and something that only Loki can determine. Most recruits with psychic and shifting powers are candidates for one level or another of longevity, though.”
“So how many immortal Legionnaires are there? Beyond the twelve Originals?”
He exhaled in remembered frustration. “Too few. Though mortals dream of immortality, few can handle it. Among the thousands I have recruited, only dozens had survived beyond a couple of hundred years. Only one of the dozens I judged capable of being inducted into the Lokians’ inner circle survives to this day. The others gave in to insanity, excess, depression, and ended their lives or caused their own death, most times along with that of others’.”
Her eyes grew thoughtful. “You feel you’ve failed them, and Loki, don’t you? And since you’ve lived for millennia, the toll of time and loss has grown too much. That’s why you wanted to die the night I first saw you.”
A surge of fierce emotion spread inside his chest. He cupped her cheek tenderly. “Seems you do know a lot about me.”
Her smile was impish, even as her eyes misted. “Told you. I also know that you more than foster the Gifted. You fight other gods’ followers. The night we met they were after your ‘Endowment.’” She suddenly giggled. “Oh, the mental image that brought!”
He tasted her smiling lips. “They thought they could suck out the part that makes me immortal.”
She went still. “And that’s not possible, right?”
“No. Not that it stops goons from trying. But when they’re not coming after us like junkies, they go after our recruits, to prevent Loki from gaining more followers.”
One eyebrow rose. “What does Loki want with followers, anyway? He sounds like a cool god and the ego trip of amassing worshippers doesn’t suit him.”
“Followers are not worshippers. Loki is not my god but my lord and general. I swore allegiance to him, and I believe in his goal. For the Gifted to have their rightful place in the world.”
“Ruling it?”
He shrugged. “Just leading it where their Gifts make them fittest for the job. Certainly ending discrimination against them. To that end, Loki needs to survive Ragnarok, which is allegedly the Final Fate of the Gods. It’s supposed to be a showdown where all gods end up killing one another and dying. We’re working on making sure Loki walks out of it alive and victorious. And though we remain a tiny minority, with all of us being Gifted, we are a huge threat to the other gods’ masses of worshippers. Even those they Endow are originally Normal and no match for us.”
