Chapter Five
They drove out into the country, the music of Florence and The Machine filling the car, and all the windows rolled down. The perpetual twilight gave the earth an ethereal quality, the colors all washing together on the horizon, and Magnus felt like they had left earth all together, having instead had taken the path to the heavens. Any moment he expected to see the rainbow bridge to Asgard before him.
He looked sideways at Linda who had her arm out the window, her fingers spread against the wind. Her hair flew out behind her and there was a soft smile on her face as she looked out at the land that sped by them.
They soon came along a long line of cars at the bottom of a large hill. There was a giant light at the top. Parking they began walking up the hill.
"It might get a little crazy," Linda warned with a laugh. "My friend isn't exactly tame."
"Oh, I'm expecting all kinds of hedonistic acts," Magnus joked. "Though I fear I'm not really dressed for the occasion." He gestured to his simple black sweater and trousers.
Linda looked him up and down appraisingly and said, "You look very…dapper."
Magnus smiled and felt joy bubble up within him.
As they reached the top of the hill, they were greeted by a huge bonfire, music, and at least a hundred people.
As they wandered through the crowd, a girl with glitter in her hair came up and grabbed a hold of Linda's hand.
"Linda, you came!" she squealed. She turned to Magnus. "And this must be Magnus. Pleased to meet you." She stuck her hand out which Magnus took.
"Happy Birthday, Alva!" Linda said happily.
"Nice to meet you," Magnus said shaking her hand.
Alva smiled and turned to Linda. As they chatted, Magnus looked around. Everyone was dressed in bright
costumes representing the otherworldliness of the night. Lots of people were dancing to music around the fire, and he thought he caught a whiff of roasting meat.
Linda hadn't been kidding when she said it was a Pagan party. He felt a pang of sadness. His mother would have loved something like this…before the cancer had spread to her liver and lungs.
A soft touch in the middle of his back brought him back to the present and he turned to find Linda standing before him with the champagne and a plate of what looked like herring and sour cream.
"Let's eat," she exclaimed handing him the plate. He took it and they found a place near the fire to sit. She opened the champagne with a pop, and took a long drink. She held it out to him, but he gave her a look.
"If you want to get home tonight, I can't drink that."
"Oh, who cares?" she scoffed. "We'll just sleep here!"
He laughed and took the bottle. "It's on your head," he replied, and took a long swig. The champagne went down, warming his belly.
It was only a matter of time and a bottle of champagne later that he was comfortably and happily drunk. All his inhibitions had gone up with the smoke of the bonfire, and taking Linda's hand, he pulled her to her feet.
"Let's dance!" he shouted over the noise.
"Really?" she asked, astonished. "You want to dance?"
"I'd do anything right now!" he shouted.
"Don't tempt me!" she shouted back, her eyes flashing in the firelight.
So they joined the frenzy of dancers. Someone had changed the music to something Magnus didn't know, but it had a drum beat that pounded deep within his soul and he didn't want to stop moving. He couldn't tear his eyes from Linda, who in the twilight looked as magical. They weren't even touching, but he felt closer to her right then any other person in his life. Her cheeks glowed in the firelight and her hair shone impossibly brighter. She radiated life, and he wanted nothing more than to live forever in this moment.
Hours later, the bonfire had burned low to the ground and the cool night air had invaded the bubble of heat that surrounded them. Many people were had left, but others remained, huddled around the fire or strewn about in tents.
He and Linda were near the fire, leaning against each other back to back. The alcohol and strawberries were long gone, and Magnus could safely say this had been the best night of his life.
Linda's head was resting on his shoulder and could feel her breath on his cheek in a warm caress.
"That was unreal," Magnus said slowly. "I'm still having trouble believing this was something more than a dream. I have never felt more alive than right now, thanks to you."
She laughed. "Yes, everyone is always more filled with life in the summer."
"And none so much as you," he murmured against her hair.
She grew quiet and he turned to look at her, afraid he might have said something wrong.
"I—" she hesitated. "It's strange that you would say something like that."
"Why?" Magnus asked.
"When—I tried to kill myself once. I was fifteen."
Magnus was stunned and suddenly afraid.
"Why?"
"I was so desperately unhappy," she replied quietly. "Depressed. My dad was the one that found me."
Magnus stared into the flames, watching them dance. He had never thought that Kurt's relationship with his daughter was so complex.
"You—you don't feel that way now, do you?" he asked slowly. He didn't think he could bear it if she were suddenly gone from his life.
"No," she said sleepily. "I never will again. I promise."
Magnus didn't respond, and after a few minutes he heard her deep even breaths of sleep. Slowly he lifted himself and gently lay her down on the ground where she curled up, tucking her feet under her dress. He draped his sweater over her shoulders and smoothed away the curls that had fallen into her face as she adjusted herself. Laying down next to her, he fell asleep as well.
He was outside Wallander's flat, his gun pointed towards the open door. As he approached it, he heard the voice, asking why? Why?
His heart thumping against his ribs, he stepped into the house and cocked his gun. He turned the corner of the doorway.
Ake stood there with blood running down his face and chest, his face twisted in anguish. He had a gun, and he was pointing it at the top of Linda's head.
Why, Magnus? He asked. Why did you kill me?
I had to, Magnus replied. Please—
I'm going to blow her brains out all over this room, Ake said. An eye for an eye…
He cocked the trigger and Magnus lunged—
There was a terrified scream and the bang of a gun, and then he was sitting on the floor cradling Linda in his arms covered in blood and blonde hair.
Magnus jerked up with a sob, nausea in his stomach. "Linda!" he cried.
"Magnus?" came Linda's sleepy voice next to him. "Magnus, what's wrong?"
What had been a brief and happy moment, it now seemed to be crumbling into pieces around him and he couldn't handle it anymore. He had to get away.
Scrambling to his feet, he started running.
Tears streamed down his face as the shame and fear ate at him from within. He ran until he found himself in a grove of birch trees at the bottom of the hill and the stitch in his side would let him go no further. In the middle of a clearing he collapsed to his knees sobbing, his nails digging into the moss covered ground as he tried desperately to grab onto any remaining shred of himself.
There was a rustling sound behind him and he whirled around just in time to see Linda run into the grove with a look of fear on her face, her chest heaving and her feet bare. When she saw him, she hurled herself at him. They collided as her arms flew around him wrapping her fingers in the tangles curls of his hair. He rested his forehead against her shoulder.
"Magnus, Magnus," she cried. "What is it? Please tell me?"
The anguish in her voice brings him up short and he looked up to see tears running down her cheeks leaving streaks in her makeup.
"I'm afraid I'm losing myself," he whispered, gripping her shoulders. "I live it over and over again, every night in my dreams. He comes to me and asks me why. Why did I kill him?"
"Oh, Magnus. Why didn't you tell me?" she asked tearfully, her fingers fluttering around his face. "You didn't have to keep it inside!"
"I can never stop him!" He grasped the sides of her head. "I hold you in my arms covered with your blood, and watch you die. I don't want to watch you die anymore!"
"You never will," she promised. "I promise. Not until I am old and grey and—"
Overwhelmed, she pulled him to her chest and just held him.
They stayed in that grove of trees until the sun was high in the sky and all the fears, while not gone, had lessened. Hand in hand, they walked to the car. Linda wordlessly took the keys from Magnus and got in the driver's seat. She put her foot on the break, and he realized she had left her shoes at the top of the hill.
Magnus looked down at her bare toes, nails painted a bright shade of pink.
"You want to go back and get them?" he asked quietly feel slightly self-conscious.
She thought about it a moment. "No," she said, starting the car. "Think of it as a sacrifice to Baldur. He can wear them into the underworld."
Magnus laughed weakly in spite of himself. "Right," he said. "Baldur in gold slippers. Now that I'd like to see."
They stopped at a rest area to use the restroom and brush their teeth with the spare toothbrush Magnus had in his glove box. They reached Ystad by the early afternoon and she drove to his flat and parked on the street. Taking the keys out, she handed them to him.
He took them from her and she leaned up and pressed her lips against his cheek. He closed his eyes, just for a moment… until she pulled away.
"Are you sure you don't want me to take you home?" he asked, his voice sounding like gravel in his ears.
She shook her head. "No, I'll walk. It's a beautiful day."
Magnus looked up at the clear pink and blue sky.
"Yes," he said, "it is."
He watched her walk down the sidewalk with a confused heart.
He went into this flat and lay down on his couch. The cat leapt up and curled up on his chest, and for the first time since the shooting, he slept soundly and without dreaming. It was almost six in the evening when he woke up to a sharp knock at the door.
Stumbling from the couch he went over and opened it, blinking as he tried to shake the cobwebs of sleep from his mind.
It was Linda.
Suddenly he was awake. She was still wearing the white dress and her feet were still bare. It was obvious she had not gone home.
"Hey," she said, and there was something in her voice that made his heart race.
"Do you want to come in?" He asked quietly.
"Okay," Linda replied without meeting his eyes.
She stepped into the room and the moment he shut the door behind her a thick tension filled the air. She was standing so close to him he could smell the smoke from the bonfire in her hair as it mixed with her perfume. Underneath it all was the slight scent of sweat and of her skin. It was intoxicating and he felt the familiar pangs of desire deep within his belly.
"I shouldn't have left you," she said not looking at him.
His mouth went dry. "What do you mean?"
She looked up at him, her eyes dark. "I should have stayed. I was out just walking around, not knowing where to go...and I realized. I should be here with you."
And then she leaned up and gently pressed her lips against his.
He closed his eyes and draw in a shuddering breath when her lips parted under his own. Her mouth was sweet with a hint of peppermint and her lips soft. Gripping her waist with his hands, he pulled her against him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Wanting to get closer, he lifted her, and she gripped his waist with her knees and pressed herself against his belly. He could feel the heat from between her thighs and it made him shudder in anticipation.
He gripped her hips and just held her, kissing her over and over again until she whimpered against his lips, and whispered, "Please, Magnus."
Carrying her into his bedroom he laid her down on his bed and crawled over her, his arms resting on either side of her face. Her fingers tangled in his curls, her touch electrifying his nerve endings, setting them on fire. His lips found hers again and he slipped his tongue between them, stroking and caressing.
He slowly moved one hand down her neck to her breast and applied the softest pressure against the nipple he could feel hardening under the thin material of her dress.
She let out a sigh and pushed up against his palm. Feeling emboldened by her response, he took advantage of her arched back and slipped his hands under her back where he found the zipper of her dress. He unzipped it and pushed it from her shoulders. Dipping his tongue into the shallow cleft of her collar bone, he pulled the flimsy material down past her breasts, brushing her nipples with his knuckles.
He swallowed hard. Her breasts were small and perfect, with pink nipples and pale smooth skin. Taking one into his mouth, he sucked gently. She gasped in response, her fingers burying in his hair.
Kissing his way across her stomach, he pulled the dress down further revealing lacy white knickers. His lips paused at the edge of the waistband and looked up at her.
She was watching him, her cheeks flushed with desire, and he needed no words. Slipping his thumbs underneath the elastic, he slowly pulled them down, revealing dark blonde curls and the heady scent of her arousal.
Separating her knees, he pressed his tongue against the small bundle of nerves there. Her fingers gripped the bed sheets and she uttered out a small whimper that made him tremble with desire.
When she came her knees tightened on either side of his head, and then she was pulling him up to her, her hands under his sweater, fingers running over his skin. She pushed him back onto the bed and clutching the bottom of his sweater, pulled it up over his head. Running her hands down his chest, she found the waistband of his trousers and soon they had gone the way of his sweater, and there was nothing between them but the thin cotton of his pants.
Their eyes met and he reached up and brushed a damp curl away from her forehead. She closed her eyes and nuzzled her cheek into his palm. It was a tender touch, but to Magnus, it was one of the sexiest things he had ever seen. His whole body ached with desire.
He rolled her over then, her breasts pressing into his chest, his erection pushing into her belly.
Separating himself from her just for a moment, he reached down and pulled off his pants. Grabbing a condom from his nightstand, he rolled it on and settled once more between her legs, the tip of him pressing gently at her entrance.
"I would have let you in anyways," she whispered. Then she lifted her hips and suddenly he was inside her.
Her velvety softness surrounding him was exquisite, and he almost cried out at the sensation of it. The only thing that stopped him was her lips against his, and the movement of her hips as her heels dug into the muscles of his buttocks.
As he moved within her, he tore his mouth from hers and pulled back to watch her face. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen; her eyes were closed, her cheeks were flushed the most lovely shade of pink, and her lips were parted and swollen from his kisses.
He lifted her up, supporting her with his knees and arms while their hips moved together. She was staring at him, her eyes wide, and he felt laid bare as though she could see into his soul.
He wanted to bury himself inside her, under her skin where she could never get him out. Threading his fingers in hers, he pressed her back onto the bed, holding her arms above her head.
He thrust harder and faster and she began making tiny little mewling sounds that tore at his self-control.
Suddenly she was rippling around him and her eyes snapped open and met his, pupils dilated with ecstasy.
It was his undoing and he shattered into a million little pieces inside her, her name spilling from his lips over and over again.
He wanted to stay there forever inside her, feeling her heart fluttering against his chest and her warm breath in his ear, so it was with reluctance when he opened his eyes.
She was watching him, her eyes bright with unshed tears, and he felt his heart leap into his mouth.
"Linda, what's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing," she said, her voice full of emotion. "Nothing at all. You were wonderful…so, so, so wonderful."
He pulled her into his arms. "Thank you," he whispered into her hair, "for coming back."
He held her until she fell asleep, and when he was sure she wouldn't wake up, he got up and went to take a shower. Having slept most of the afternoon, he wasn't sleepy so he made himself something to eat and sat in front of the TV petting his cat and watching some old rerun of an American sitcom.
It was impossible to pay attention because he was distracted by how unreal everything felt. For the first time in a very, very long time, he had a woman in his bed. And not just any woman, but one he cared about very, very, much.
Cautiously, he crept back into his room and stood at the doorway. As he watched her sleep, his heart began to thud painfully in his chest.
He realized in that moment he was in love with her as he had never been in love with anyone before. He was so in love with her he almost forgot how to breathe. It made him lightheaded, and he thought he might explode from all the emotions running though him at that moment, like electricity through a wire.
He wanted nothing more than to wake her up and tell her right then and there, but suddenly he felt cold as old fears of rejection bubbled up inside him.
He had only known her, what? Three weeks? How was it possible that she would love him as he did her?
Even plagued by doubts, he realized whatever it was they had, it was good enough for now.