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              My legs shook as I stepped onto the snowy road, careful to tread slowly so I wouldn't slip. Wind whipped past me, penetrating the thin nightgown, blowing my hair back. I blushed a little as Loki steadied me with his hand on my shoulder.
"Not cold at all, huh?"
I shrugged. "No. I don't know what's wrong with me. Thanks for the rescue, by the way. What did you do to those guys?"
"Ah, they'll be fine." Loki waved one hand dismissively. "Minor concussions is all. Their skulls are too thick for it to really make a difference."
We came around the front of the van. Two men were lying on the side of the road, sprawled out in the snowbank. One I recognized as the man who'd been standing on my front lawn. I stepped forward for a closer look, taking a shaky breath to steel myself. He almost looked like he was sleeping, except for the blood on his temple. He had very blond hair and sharp, cold features.
I shivered and glanced over at the other man. Shock punched me in the chest.
There was no mistaking the beanpole figure splayed out on the ground. His spectacles lay beside his head, one lens shattered. Beside his left hand was the butt of a cigar, black ashes speckling the snow.
"Mr. Scott?"
"Someone you know?" Loki leaned against the van, hands in his pockets as he watched me.
"My English teacher." I rubbed at my eyes, as if that might make it go away.
Mr. Scott was the creep following us around?
"Okay." I rounded on Loki. "Tell me what's happening."
"Get in." For the first time, he looked stern. "I have to get you somewhere safe first."
I wasn’t sure I wanted to get back in the van. But it was either that or stay there with Mr. Scott.
"Fine. But explain on the way."
"Deal."
The keys were still in the ignition, and Loki got us turned around, heading back toward Grande Prairie.
"Where were they taking me?"
"Jotunheim, I expect."
When I stared at him, he blinked. "What?"
"That word sounds made up."
Loki shrugged, turning back to the road. "Well, it's not. It's where the jotun live."
"The who?"
"This is going to be a long ride." He cleared his throat. "You girls are from a very long line of jotun. I mean, you're not full jotun. You've only got some blood in you, but it's enough."
"What the heck does that mean? Is that some kind of family name? How does this explain why I can't feel cold?” I crossed my arms and pressed my back into the seat, squirming. "And why did the first guy I kissed turn into a Popsicle last month?"
Loki glanced at me again, a crooked little smile appearing on the corner of his mouth. "You had your first kiss last month?"
"I tell you I froze someone and that's your takeaway?" I blushed furiously and looked down at my bare feet. A pool of slushy ice had formed beneath them.
To my profound relief, Loki turned his attention back to the road. "I'll try to explain. Those people back there are your kin."
"What? Like, family? I don’t have one. Just Uncle Dave.”
His smile flattened. "None of your story is really true. You weren't abandoned. Your human mother was... convinced to leave you at a young age."
I blinked rapidly, almost expecting tears though my eyes were still dry.
This was all terrifying and confusing.
When I spoke again, my voice cracked. "Why?"
"I think maybe the queen believed the bond between a real mother and her child was too strong.” His voice was quiet. “Plus, your mother would have known who your father was."
"The queen?" I was barely keeping up here.
Maybe this was some kind of weird reality TV show. What would it be called Kidnap and Prank ? Pretty sure that was illegal.
"Wait, did you say my father? He works on commercial fishing boats or something. I’ve never even met him.”
"That’s not exactly true, either," Loki said grimly. "Your father was a full-blooded jotun. A frost giant."

Chapter Eight
     
    I couldn't help it. I laughed.
It wasn't a particularly happy laugh. In fact, it sounded more like the hysterical bleat of a terrified sheep. Loki stole a