Page 35 of Hex
“Better make that to go, because we’ve just been granted an audience with Loki.”
Chapter Thirteen
Hack
Of all the places I thought we’d meet the elusive Norse god of chaos, this was not it.
“Is this a joke?” Pierce says, his anthros snobbery showing as he recoils from the stench of cigarette smoke and severe body odor.
“It’s the address Samhain gave me and our Dei never jokes.” With a roll of his index finger like he’s rewinding his words, Slay adds, “Well, not in a funny way.”
“Sick! Is that MythOS? Damn, I didn’t think we could access it on Earth.” Four pairs of eyes, including mine, swivel toward Slash as he makes a beeline for the computer in the far corner, where some hipster with a man bun is typing away like his next meal depends on the number of words he writes.
“Slash just geeked out.” From the corner of my eye, I see Pierce shrug, and he’s not wrong; the Horseman of war got real comfortable, real fast when technology started to gain traction.
The rest of us…not so much. We’re like Boomers doomed to live day in and day out with a Gen Z-er. It’s fucking exhausting but also useful as fuck.
Then there’s Sage who is…a Millennial? If Millennials were two thousand years old. “I bet every single one of these dudes is hacking some foreign government.” My body instinctively steps in front of her to protect her from…I don’t really know what. I know she can hold her own and I know she’s capable of protecting herself, but I still feel the overwhelming urge to stand between her and danger. And right now, the air is danger enough.
“Yeah, well, while he’s losing brain cells with the coding shit, we need to find Loki in this shithole.” I nod to Slay, agreeing that finding the Norse god is, indeed, a priority. The warehouse is huge and it’s wall-to-wall tables with computers and screens and bags of junk food on top of the makeshift desks. The majority of the guys—and a few girls in the crowd—are wearing headphones, bopping their heads to what I’m assuming is their favorite playlist.
I refuse to explain how we enjoyed our time back when I was young because you can’t compare apples to hyenas. What I can say is that even knowing that I’m old as fuck compared to these kids, I still prefer being outside instead of suffocating in someone else’s second hand smoke.
“It’s a good thing we can’t get cancer. Two minutes in this dump and we’d be begging for chemo.” I doubt that, but who the fuck am I to disagree with Pierce? He’s the doc, not me.
“Let’s get Loki and get the fuck out of here.” My words are clipped, my patience already at its limits.
“Wait.” We’re all about to take a step deeper into the warehouse when Sage’s command stops us in an instant. “Isn’t Loki the god of mischief or something?”
“Chaos is his thing, yes,” Slay answers for us all.
“So, this whole place looks chaotic, right? And Slash just said something about MythOS which I’ve never heard of—on Earth at least—not that I would typically hear anything aboutprogramming language anyway, but still.” She’s talking a million miles a second and I can’t help but find it endearing. Okay, fine. It’s hot. I find it hot when her mind starts spinning because her brain goes faster than her words. It’s sexy as fuck.
We scan the scene before us with more critical eyes, following Sage’s theory. There’s a definite pattern and uniformity. I’d guess there are around seventy-five to hundred gamers and hackers glued to their screens, all wearing either ear pods or headphones. Some screens have video games well underway, others have lines and lines of code just scrolling up at phenomenal speeds. The warehouse is jam packed and at any given moment, at least a third of them are screaming at the outcome of their games. Only one is taking it all in when he’s not engaging with Slash.
“The bun guy,” we all say at the same time, our gazes swinging straight to where our brother is talking to the guy, his hands flying all over the place like he’s suddenly activated some long-dormant Italian DNA. Loki thrives on chaos and bun guy is looking mighty content with this crowd.
My hand reaches for Sage’s on reflex, as though every part of my body seeks her out at all times. It doesn’t help that this place feels off and I’m well aware that my senses are on high alert after everything that’s happened, but it doesn’t mean I’m wrong.
As a unit, we make our way to the back of the warehouse where Slash seems right at home with a headset of his own and a computer screen running a fuckload of numbers and letters.
The hipster—and if we’re not mistaken, Loki—sits back in his chair and where, seconds ago, he seemed oblivious to the rest of the world, he’s now surprisingly alert to our presence.
“The entire Horsemen tribe, wow. To what do I owe the honor?” He doesn’t stand and it’s clear he’s not intimidated, in the least, by us.
“Dei Samhain told us we could find you here.” Slay is no nonsense and gives the same level of reverence, or lack thereof, that he did the greek goddess Hekate. We don’t answer to the gods.
“Hmmm, interesting.” This time, the man rises to his full height and fuck me, he’s tall. Almost as tall as us, which is rare. “You didn’t find me, Death, I allowed you to locate me. There’s a difference. I can smell your kind an ocean away.”
Insults from the gods; how novel.
None of us react. We’re not ashamed of who we are and arguing with these privileged asshats won’t change a fucking thing.
Sage, on the other hand…
“Well that’s rude.” Fuck my life. “You think being the outcast of your family is somehow above the Horsemen’s status? Seems like the movies got it right, you’re a bit of a dick, aren’t you?”
This is probably not the time to acknowledge my instant erection at her trying to protect my honor. Instead, I angle my body in such a way that it hides Sage from Loki’s attention. There’s a reason for his reputation. He lives for mischief and he’s a sucker for a beautiful woman, so tonight is going to end in one of two ways. Either we all walk away and get answers about the massive animal that tried to kill us and is now trailing Sage like a docile puppy, or someone’s going to die.
