“No,” Maisey tried to explain to the confused bartender. “My friend is missing, and we’re just trying to find her. If you’d look at the picture again, I think you might remember her. She was—”
“I remember her,” he gritted back. Then, “Cop!” he yelled.
That yell cut over the screaming music.
“If you know her,” Maisey continued doggedly because she was sure she’d seen a flicker of recognition in the man’s eyes, “then I would appreciate it if you would tell me what you know. I can pay you.”
“Don’t move,” Odin told Maisey.
She threw a disgruntled look over her shoulder. “Why would I move? I am making headway here. And we didn’t have to get physical. I didn’t have to see that dark, dangerous side that you—” She broke off because she’d just caught sight of the movement happening behind him. A bearded man was rushing up with a chair held high above his head. “Odin!”
Odin’s body tensed.
The chair slammed into him. The wooden legs broke and rained down to the floor.
Maisey’s jaw dropped. “He hit you!” With a chair. Oh. My. God.
“I let him hit first,” Odin said as he rolled back his shoulders. “Did that for you. See, I followed the rule—”
“Odin! He’s getting another chair!”
Odin spun around.
And the crazy attacker was coming at Odin with another chair. He’d lifted it high over his shoulders—probably because he thought that would give the blow more force. But Maisey realized the movement had just exposed the guy. Odin simply lifted his foot and shoved his boot hard into the man’s paunchy stomach.
The air left the attacker with a whoosh of sound, and he staggered back. He bumped into a table, fell, and the chair he’d held slammed down on top of him.
The band hadn’t stopped playing. In this kind of place, Maisey figured you didn’t stop when one little fight broke out. Though, honestly, this did not strike her as a little fight. Especially not when—
“To the left!” Maisey yelled. “I think he has friends!”
Odin’s gaze swung to the left.
A table of men had gotten to their feet. One slammed his beer bottle onto the edge of the table, breaking it, and then he charged at Odin with the weapon.
“Don’t you dare!” Maisey shouted. “Don’t you even think of cutting him!” This was madness!
And why was Odin just standing there? He should be jumping for cover! “Odin!”
Odin didn’t seem particularly worried. When the attacker launched toward him, Odin just side stepped, and he let the man’s own momentum propel him a bit too far past Odin. As soon as the man—and his weapon—slipped by Odin, then Odin’s arm flew out. He locked his forearm around the attacker’s throat and jerked him back. Back—then Odin slammed him down onto the floor.
A groan burst from the man even as the broken beer bottle rolled away.
Maisey couldn’t even breathe a sigh of relief because two more men were coming at Odin. Two others from that table.
The band kept playing. If anything, they got louder.
Maisey stared around in growing horror.
“Stay back,” Odin told her. “I’ve got this.”
His attackers closed in.
Chapter Nine
Maisey gaped at the scene before her. Odin was being attacked by multiple strangers, and he just kept taking them down like it was nothing. He wasn’t just brute strength pummeling them, either. No, he was moving with a lethal grace that almost seemed mesmerizing as he—
Three more men went for him.
“Hell, no.” Maisey’s hand shoved into her bag and came back up with the mace he’d given her. She and Odin hadn’t gone over any fighting techniques that day—they would be correcting that, ASAP—but in the meantime, she was not just going to sit there and watch him get attacked by a gang of men. Yes, Odin was impressive, certainly. But he couldn’t last forever as more enemies seemed to spring from every corner of the dark club.
She leveled a furious glance at the bartender. “This is your fault.”
He backed up a step. “Don’t spray that shit in my eyes!”
“Don’t tempt me.” But her target wasn’t the bartender—and to think, she’d intended to give him a twenty in exchange for information. You just lost your payday, my friend. Maisey dismissed him from her thoughts because her goal was the men attacking Odin. She jumped off the barstool and launched toward the fray.
And a wall stepped in front of her. “Sorry, but he won’t like that.”
The wall wasn’t quite as big as Odin. Broad shoulders. Built chest. Her gaze lifted. Dark hair. Bright eyes—eyes a very similar shade of blue to Odin’s. And he was grinning. Grinning as if he’d just been told the very best joke in the entire world. “Get out of my way,” Maisey ordered him. Her hand tightened around the mace.
“Wouldn’t recommend using that in here.” He pointed up. “The ceiling fans are blowing for all they are worth, and you’ll probably get kickback in your eyes. Plus, when you do manage to spray some jackasses, they’ll just get mad and charge at you, and that will make Odin lose his ever-loving-mind. Man always has a thing for protecting the ladies. Or, hell, protecting anyone he thinks might be weaker than he is.”
She shot around the stranger.
He curled his arm around her stomach and yanked her right back. Furious, she slammed her elbow into his midsection—she knew that move from her crime shows. Then she stomped down with her foot, aiming for his fancy tennis shoes. He swore, but didn’t let her go and, in fact, his grip tightened. She was getting ready to head-butt him—another move from her crime shows—when a detail clicked for her. He called Odin by name. “Wait, you know Odin?”
At that moment, Odin looked up. He saw her—saw her struggling—and let out what could only be termed a roar.
“Uh, oh.” The man holding her didn’t seem particularly concerned. “Now he’s pissed. Look what you did.”
What she’d done? And now—Odin was pissed now? As in, he hadn’t been pissed before? He’d certainly looked pissed to her.
Odin threw off the men who’d been on him. Threw them so hard one man stumbled about four feet before crashing into the floor.
“Got to admire Odin’s style.” The man’s grip finally loosened on her. “When he works, it is a thing of beauty.”
She jerked free and spun toward him. She had her mace up and pointed toward his eyes.
He smiled at her. His bright blue eyes gleamed. “Hello. I should have introduced myself before. I’m a friend of Odin’s. Looked like he was in trouble, so I thought I’d help out.”
She heard a crash behind her. Maisey winced. “You aren’t helping. You’re holding me up and stopping me from—”
“Potentially getting hurt?” he cut in to finish. “Absolutely. You’re welcome. If you get hurt, I have a feeling Odin will burn this place to the ground.”
He didn’t mean that, of course. Or did he?
But she didn’t want to find out. The whole scene was insane and she had to take control. She leapt up on the nearest table. Some people were still dancing. The band kept playing and— “I just want to find my friend!” Maisey shouted. A few heads turned her way. “We are not cops.” Though, jeez, she would sure love it if some cops could come to help out. “I’m a history teacher and a podcaster. He’s my partner.” She pointed to Odin. He wasn’t looking at her. “My friend is Whitney Augustine. She used to come here, but she’s been missing, and I just wanted a lead. I wanted something or someone to help me find her.”