Free 0765332108 (F) by Susan Krinard

advantage. Dainn hadn’t even realized what happened when Loki had worked the dangerous spell that had robbed the elf of the better part of his most potent source of magic: the Eitr—the mysterious substance of the universe itself. It had been part of Dainn, carried like the blood in his veins, and he had been as unconscious of its presence within him as he was of the air in his lungs or the beat of his heart.
    Loki had felt some regret when he and Freya had seized the Eitr for their own use, knowing that it would change Dainn in ways not even he could imagine. Even so, Dainn had not lost the essence of what he was. He still had his elven magic. He had been calm and cool and wise as Odin’s advisor, always a voice of reason. But in private …
    In the seclusion of their bedchamber, when Dainn had believed he was fucking Freya, he had been more than adequately passionate. He had even declared his love for the Lady. Adoration Loki had wanted for himself, as himself.
    It didn’t matter that Loki couldn’t return such feelings. He knew himself to be capable of a certain affection, and since Dainn had come to him here, he had treated the elf with great consideration.
    Dainn had been far less than grateful. And certainly far from passionate.
    But even the Rune-bringer, teacher of the ancient Alfar, couldn’t hold out forever.
    Loki stepped back and turned away as if he hadn’t noticed Dainn’s passive rejection. The elf followed him into the study, where Loki turned on the monitor of the remote camera that constantly surveyed Danny’s room. Nicholas poured them both glasses of brandy. As always, Dainn didn’t touch his.
    “You drink too much,” Dainn said, almost the only words he ever volunteered. “One day it will kill you.”
    Loki laughed and raised his glass. “Given what I’ve experienced at the hands of the Aesir, poisoning my drink isn’t likely to produce the results you wish. However”—he settled into his favorite armchair, and gestured for Dainn to take his usual seat on the other side of the small table—“you seem to have done well enough working against me in other ways.”
    Moving with far less than his usual elvish grace, Dainn took the chair, his body folding in on itself like that of an injured animal attempting to conceal its wounds from a lurking predator. “I have no power to harm you,” he said in a dull voice.
    “Not with anything as crude as the beast inside you,” Loki said, “or as elegant as the magic you lost due to your own unfortunate tendency to make decisions based on misplaced trust. But those are hardly your only tools.” He signaled for Nicholas to refill his glass. “According to your most recent reports—or should I called them ‘excuses’—Danny has made little progress in any of the tasks you were to help him perform.” Loki sighed and stretched out his legs. “I fear that I will soon be driven to take more extreme measures in order to encourage your cooperation.”
    Dainn didn’t react to the threat. “I have been unable to convey your desire that he create other portals to more distant regions of Midgard,” he said. “It seems he lacks sufficient motivation to ease your Jotunar’s search for the remaining Treasures.”
    “Because you have given him none.”
    “He has opened the bridges.”
    “Erratically. And for Freya as well as for me.”
    “It must please you to know that Freya cannot manage it herself, though she surely takes credit for it.” Dainn leaned forward slightly, as if he were warming to the conversation. “I believe that this is a case of Danny’s power working indiscriminately. It is a game to him. When he summoned me to help him retrieve Sleipnir on the steppes, he was not acting on your enemy’s behalf. He was aware of his brother for reasons we do not understand, but he had no comprehension of the nature of this war, or its consequences. He seems to have forgotten everything that occurred before he returned from the