players, so we’ll get started. I’m so excited to be emceeing this year,” Freya gushed.
The others showed their appreciation with fireworks and sweet-song from birds that appeared and disappeared in seconds.
“Thank you. As you know, we don’t get to play often, so we need to take advantage of this decade’s games. Otherwise, it might be half a millennium before our next opportunity. There’s been much speculation as to where we’ll be playing. As you know, we played in Rome last time. And before that, Atlantis.”
“And we all know how that turned out.” Sedna shook her head.
“Yes, well. We’ll have to be more careful that we don’t sink any islands if we lose, now won’t we?” The look she directed at Athena had her flushing.
“Hey, that was my uncle. I know Poseidon can be a little hotheaded.”
“A little.” Mercury snorted.
Hall silently agreed.
“In any case,” Freya interrupted before an argument could start, “we’ve come to a consensus among your primaries. We’re going to be holding the next Ludos Deorum in Midgard.”
Raven blinked. “Uh, we kind of knew that already, Freya. Where exactly ?”
Freya frowned. “Well, technically we could have held the games in Asgard or Niflheim. So, really, Midgard is a bit more specific.”
Hall bit back a grin. None of the gods like playing in their own heavens and hells. Midgard—the middle realm, the human realm—was an obvious choice. His goddess loved stringing them along.
“Oh, get to it, Freya. I have an earthquake to get back to,” Izanagi snapped.
Mithra rolled his eyes. “I have a drought. Whatever. I’m in no hurry to rush back to a lack of worshippers and too much work to do.”
“What he said,” Cagn agreed.
Freya held out a hand, and a puff of rose petals fluttered over the gathering. “And our next location for the Games of the Gods is…the United States!”
Raven beamed. His home turf. “Outstanding.”
Q frowned. “We couldn’t stretch that south at all?”
“I’m sorry, Q. Maybe next time.”
“Damn.”
Hall felt for the guy. But from what he’d heard, once the games started, things could get bloody. Q had a tendency to forget it was a game and go all-out Armageddon.
“Who’s refereeing this one?” Athena asked.
“Viracocha.” A creator god out of the Andes. That seemed to mollify Q somewhat. “Now, let’s eat, drink, and be merry. And place bets of course.” Freya turned to wink up at Hall. “My money’s on our team. I’m taking the first challenge.”
The pantheons had different gods in charge of each round. Freya apparently had round one. He could only imagine who’d be assigned round two. Loki, if he had to make a guess. Best to get the trickster out front and out of the way before he started on grand notions of world domination… again. Once the pantheons had chosen their representatives, those representatives in turn would select their human pawns. Then the fun really started.
He and Avarr remained by Freya’s side in Sessrumnir for a few hours before she left the festivities.
She stopped in the hallway bridging the party from the rest of the palace. “Thank you, my pets. You’ve been wonderful, as usual.” She kissed Hall’s cheek then Avarr’s. Heat strummed from her touch to Hall’s groin, making it impossible not to think of sex. Of Eira.
“Almost. You’re so very, very close.” She gave him and Avarr a look he didn’t understand. And then, in a blink, she vanished.
“I really hate the pop-out. As much as the pop-in.” Avarr cupped himself. “Fuck, I’m hard. Let’s get out of here.”
Hall agreed wholeheartedly. “You said it.”
They left the hall and took a few side stairs to the warriors’ wing. Mostly falcons and eagles were in residence, but they passed a trio of battle-cats as well. Good men, fighters who knew how to hold their instincts in check, to hunt when needed, and how to embrace their felines and seriously nap when the mood