“Keep ‘em coming,” Lasse tugged at the bartender’s sleeve, trying to make him move faster, but the wily sod evaded his grasp. Shaking his head, Thor slapped a hundred dollar bill on the counter. Good. We’re still in the states then. Not that it matters.
No. Nothing mattered. Nothing would ever matter ever again. From the moment Lasse caught a glimpse of the rugged form of a dark haired warrior, Lasse knew the Fates had slapped him around the face and left him reeling. At the time he’d been stunned; watching the man dancing around the cage as though lit with his own personal spotlight among the dim lighting and cigarette smoke. Although, dancing wasn’t the right word either. The man was a warrior – well trained, every muscle tightly honed, fighting with a casualness that could only have come from decades of muscle memory.
My fucking mate. The man, Jason someone in the crowd called him, was a professional fighter. A professional underground fighter. That much was clear. As Lasse pushed and shoved his way through the bustling audience all focused on the actions in the cage, he heard far more than he ever wanted to hear. Saw him in Mexico…they say he killed a man…never lost a fight…got no heart…shows no mercy…They say he fucks like he fights, like an animal. Admittedly the last comment was between two women, but that didn’t help Lasse’s cause.
Why shouldn’t his mate be straight? Nothing else about the rugged fighter matched the dream Lasse had been holding onto. Jason not being gay was just the frosting on the fucked-up fate cake. Lasse felt worse when he finally made it to the bars of the cage. His mate was a paranormal; he could see it in the man’s chocolate brown eyes. His mate knew they were supposed to be together and still he gave the impression punching humans for money was the most important thing in his life.
“Have you worked out how you’re going to hobble this guy?” Thor asked, resting his elbows on the bar. Lasse was surprised his friend found the room. His corner of the bar was littered with more than a dozen empty glasses.
“No point.” Lasse tipped his head back and emptied another glass. The burn from the unknown liquid seared his throat and Lasse waved for another one. “I’m going to find those bitches that did this to me. I’m gonna get ‘em and wring their fucking necks for what they’ve done to me. What the hell have I ever done wrong?” His sweeping arm knocked four glasses onto the floor, but Lasse didn’t care about that either.
“I’ve been the good one,” he yelled, stabbing his own chest with his finger. “I had nothing to do with Atlantis, that was my father. He’s the dick. Not me. How come he gets what he wants, and I don’t. Nereus. Fucking Nereus. He got two. He’s no better than I was. Why me?” More glasses crashed to the floor as Lasse held his face in his hands.
“Come on, bud, you’re starting to share more family secrets than you should in a place like this.” Thor’s arm across his shoulders was a weight Lasse had felt a million times before, but this time it felt wrong. “The locals are looking at us funny,” Thor bent and whispered in his ear. “Let’s go somewhere a bit more private, aye?”
“Just fight ‘em.” Tears made it difficult for Lasse to see. He was gutted. He just wanted to wallow in it. “You love to fight. That’s all anyone wants to do anymore. Fight. Fight. Fight. Did you see him? My mate. The best fighter of them all.” Lasse swayed on his stool and would’ve fallen if Thor hadn’t been standing there.
“He’d have a hard time fighting me. I could beat his ass into the mat with one hand tied behind my back,” Thor promised and while there was a teeny tiny part of Lasse’s brain lucid enough to know his friend was trying to be supportive, the other part, pickled in god knows what rotgut he’d been drinking, simply heard a threat to his mate.
“Don’t you dare touch him!” Swinging around on his stool, Lasse’s fist caught Thor’s jaw with a crack loud enough to cause thunder. His swing caused him to barrel into Thor and both men fell to the ground. Grunting, kicking, and punching the two men rolled this way and that; tables and chairs crashing as the bar patrons stumbled to get out of the way. Someone yelled for someone else to call the police, but Lasse was beyond caring at this point. A blinding punch to his nose rolled him back a bit, but he swung his leg around, kicking his friend in the head.
“Bastard.” Thor wiped the blood from his split lip before leaping up and smothering Lasse’s body with his own. Lasse tried to punch and kick his way out, but Thor’s grip around his shoulders was like a vice. Anyone watching them might have thought they were getting off on each other, but all Lasse felt was blinding rage. Waiting until Thor rolled them enough he was on top, he leaned his head back and smashed it down on his friend’s nose.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Not the face, ass wipe,” Thor snarled and then both men stiffened as they heard the wail of a police siren. “Shit, our dads are going to be pissed if we get locked up,” Thor muttered quickly.
Nodding, Lasse scanned the room. “Back exit, ten o’clock.”
“Now.”
In a move used more often than either of them cared to count, both men rolled and were on their feet in seconds. “This’ll pay for the damages,” Lasse yelled as he threw a bag of gold coins at the bar tender. “Keep the change.”
Laughing like loons, both men stumbled out the back entrance, finding themselves in a garbage filled alley. “Yours or mine?” Thor asked holding out his hammer.
“Yours.” Lasse held on and waited for his body to translocate. The fight definitely helped clear his head, but his chest still felt like Thor was sitting on it. He could’ve sworn he saw the glimmer of dark eyes and hair as his body disappeared from the alley. Wishful thinking. Bastard must have clocked me one harder than I thought.
/~/~/~/~/
Keeping a sharp eye out to ensure no one would see him, Jason crept to where the two men disappeared from, his animal half on high alert.
He’s been fighting with his friend.
Yeah, so much for being a peace lover. Jason rolled his eyes. He found it easier to get angry at his mate’s disheveled state. Otherwise he’d be inclined to worry about him.
Blood drop. There. It’s his. Using his spirit’s eyes, Jason found the droplet.
How can you tell it’s his? They were both bleeding. He bent over and lightly touched the deep red droplet.
One man smells of thunder and lightning; our man carries the sun and sea in his veins.
The sun and the sea. Jason flicked through his memories of the vast array of paranormals he knew as he sniffed the blood on his finger. It was an unusual combination.
Ancient folklore, his animal half prompted.
Which one? Jason knew most of them. He’d lived through the worst of most of them. The ancient Egyptians, the Roman gods, pagan, and pacific. “Greek,” he whispered. “Our man is descended from a Greek god, but his friend is something else entirely.”
The hammer, his animal reminded him.
“That was Thor? I knew I’d seen him somewhere.” Jason’s eyes widened. “Which would make our mate…” Sticking out his tongue, he touched the end of it to his blood stained fingertip. “Poseidon. Our mate is descended from Poseidon and one of the horses of the sun. Abraxas.”
They had two sons together, His animal spirit whispered. Nereus is younger. The older one is Lasse although many consider them twins.
“Because there’s only two years between them, I remember.” Shoving his hands in his pocket Jason sauntered out of the stinking alley, planning his next move. The urge to flee was riding him hard, but isolated as he was, even he knew a fated mate couldn’t be ignored. The Fates were too canny for that. The thing he had to decide was did he give chase or wait for Lasse to come to him? Waiting sounded like the more boring alternative. We chase, his animal roared.