No Angel Came: Chapter 3 *HF*
By Loki
I'd like to thank Mystikal and Daemon for helping me out. And Toby for reading it early! Thanks!
“You change like sugarcane. . .”
--Tori Amos
Her lips were chapped and she hadn’t washed her hair in days. It hung in a tangled oily mess that she hardly seemed to notice. Her skin was pale and felt like plastic, her red hair clinging to her neck and back. In the dark it looked almost brown. She sat alone in the dark and tried not to think. But trying not to think just made the thoughts come all the more abruptly and startle her. She was losing her mind. And she couldn’t remember what she did five minutes ago. Her memory came in bits and pieces and seemed to fall gently clouding her thoughts like snow. Only it wasn’t pure and white. It was black and hot. These memories burned. And her hands, her hands seemed to burn too. She stared at them, wanting them to burn but knowing they could not. They repressed the great fire here. Yet the fire was a part of her. She wanted to burn. She wanted to burn a hole in herself half as deep as the great obsidian hole in her soul. Yet, they wouldn’t let her. The thought filled her with sudden rage. They deserved it. They all deserved it. And no one would ever touch her like that again. Don’t touch me; it hurts. Even the softest touch by a nurse could send her into convulsive shocks, causing her whole mind and body to shiver and quake. Now she sat in the dark and tried not to think. But a faint sound stopped her silence. A soft animal like sound that came from the room next door. The room that she had gotten to know so well. Was it from a friend or foe? Sometimes he seemed one and the same. Sharon straightened up from her hard hospital bed and listened. She heard it again, very faint. . . very soft. So gentle. There was nothing threatening in the noise, yet it made the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up. And she stood up for the first time that day. Because suddenly it was brutally important just to stand and listen. The animal like whimpering came again and for the first time, she felt she needed to be brave. She felt the urge to protect this creature who was so hurt. But it wasn’t the angry kind of hurt; the kind that tore a sob from your throat like a guttural roar. No, it was the soft, broken hurt of the defeated. Of a creature who had totally given up hope. Sharon walked across her room, her feet barely making a sound on the cold tile floor. She walked to the next room and pressed her face to the door. She pressed her ear against it firmly, so she could better hear, maybe better understand the source of the pain. It was a small sound. . . but it was worse than any demon she could think of. Worse than any monster that chose to stomp on her grave. Tears welled in her eyes as she sank to her knees. Then, for the first time since she had gotten here, Sharon started to cry. Soft and broken, almost mimicking the cries coming from within the door. And for the first time she realized that he was no god. He was just a hurt and broken soul. . . who was praying for some kind of redemption.
“I guess the gods do cry. . .” she whispered. The noise stopped abruptly and she heard a shuffled from inside. He was on the other side of the door.
“Cry?” came the soft voice. “You want me to cry? Oh, no, the gods do more than cry, my dear. The gods bleed.”
“But who are you bleeding for?”
“For you. . . for you.”
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Blackfire swung her arms as she walked up the driveway. It had been awhile since she had actually came to visit Gabe. Most of the time he came to her. And her memory was getting better, which made her nervous. Not because she didn’t want to remember, but because she was afraid of what she would remember. Afraid that she wouldn’t be able to handle it. Afraid that she might hate herself. As it was now, she knew who she was. She was Sharon Stokes and she was a good person. She tried to help other people, she tried to protect the innocent. And what if some memory came back that even suggested the opposite? She wasn’t sure she was equipped to handle it. Yet, she refused to run away. Blackfire’s boots crunched on the gravel in the driveway. It was already dark, which she liked. More to hide, she supposed. But it didn’t matter, she felt safe in the dark.
“Well, well, fancy meeting you here,” came his voice. The same voice. The same tone. Some things never changed. And, as always, part of her was blissfully happy to see him. Just to know that even if he wasn’t sound in mind, he was alive. And sometimes just that was enough.
“Loki,” she said warmly. But she couldn’t see him. He hid well in the dark. Even better than she did.
“Aye, and to what may I owe the honor of your presence?” She looked towards the direction that he came from. Because something wasn’t right. His voice sounded. . . off. Or was it even him? Her body stiffened as she realized that she was vulnerable here in the dark. Even if it was him, she felt naked and exposed. She loathed the feeling. And he knew it.
“Loki, where are you?” she finally said.
“I am here. I am there. What does it matter where I am?” came the easy reply. Yet there was an edge to it. And the edge set her senses on edge. She felt like Alice in Wonderland waiting for the Cheshire Cat to give her a bit of wisdom. She was rigid and taunt, waiting for him to do whatever it was he planned to do. And she was sure that it would still knock her off of her feet.
“Loki, have you seen Daemon?” she tried, seeking another approach.
“Yeah, yeah. He’s king here so I see him a lot. I’m the new assassin now. Which is great because it means that I get to do what I’m good at.”
“Killing people?”
“Sometimes. But mostly just fucking with people. You know we’re both good at that.” Blackfire sighed and allowed her hands to light up in flames.
“Now you know exactly where I am, Jacob. Where are you?”
“I already knew where you were, Sharon,” Loki chided. “But I’m not hiding. I’m right here.”
“I don’t like it when I can’t see you,” Blackfire admitted, hearing the anger in her voice. “You know that.”
“I’m still not. . .” and suddenly he was beside her “. . . hiding.” She exhaled the breath that she didn’t know she was holding and smiled again.
“It’s good to see you,” she greeted him.
“You might want to get your eyes checked, Destiny.” Blackfire chuckled to herself, then stopped abruptly as she realized that his words were double edged. Loki was never able to give anyone a straight answer or greeting, it seemed. She started walking towards the building but stopped when she noticed he wasn’t following.
“Aren’t you coming in?” she asked, hesitating. She felt like Loki should have a sign tattooed to his forehead that said “proceed with caution”.
“Why? I like it out here. It’s nice out here.” He said the last sentence whimsically, and it made her heart sore. He always caught her off guard. One moment he seemed cold and ruthless and the next child-like and innocent. What kind of person could change at the drop of a hat from a bloody thirty killing machine to a happy-go-lucky child to a nurturing friend? Then she saw his face. It was very, very white. Like a new corpse or a Greek statue. It filled her with sudden alarm.
“Jacob, are you sick??” she asked.
“Sick? Mentally or physically?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Through the sparks of her fire and the eerie glow of the moon she could clearly see the sweat on his face. She noticed that his shirt was damp from it too, soaking through and giving it a darker color as well as a musky order.
“Don’t look down, you might fall,” Loki cautioned, his expression daunting. She looked down, of course. And the funny thing was, she almost did fall.
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“YOU MOTHERFUCKERS ARE GONNA DIE!!!!” the figured yelled. It was a young girl dressed in white. Dark spots of dirt and grease stained her pants and her shirt was torn at the shoulder. She had lost her shoes. But either she didn’t notice or she simply did not care. He hair was wild and whipped around her, her eyes were dilated and held the look of the insane. They held an almost desperate look in them as she waved the gun across the room.
“For feck’s sake!” Scrib cried, her hand on her heart.
“Uhm. . . who is that? Someone who is mad because they weren’t invited to this little shin-dig?” Martin Blank asked in a nervous attempt to make a joke. No one laughed. All eyes were on the girl. Daemon and Marvel Girl still stood where at the front. Daemon looked slightly annoyed and Marvel Girl didn’t look impressed at all. Siren looked over to ask Mystikal what was wrong and was surprised to see that the girl had managed to slip away when no one was looking. She felt like panicking because she had no idea what to do in this situation and Mystikal was the only person that she truly felt like she could trust. Then she felt a warm hand on her arm and looked up to see Echo’s gentle blue eyes. She gave her a thin smile and stayed in her seat. Echo kept her hand on her arm reassuringly. Siren was suddenly very grateful that she was there. Echo seemed to provoke a calmness in all of the team members. It was something that they all needed very badly at the moment.
“Excuse me, miss, what seems to be the problem?” Daemon asked, still looking annoyed.
“You know what the problem is, motherfucker! You sent your stupid assassin to try and kill my friend! So now I will kill you all!” Scrib and Echo exchanged worried looks. Martin Blank kept looking sideways at Echo. Siren was silent, wondering where Mystikal went. Byron took a step forward but Marvel Girl gave her a quick signal to be still. She gave Byron a cold look that suggested that maybe she should let the Grey Queen handle this. Marvel Girl took a few steps towards the girl and then stopped. She was a beautiful woman but her beauty never betrayed her power. And everyone that knew Marvel Girl knew that she had a temper. Jean was almost notorious for it. Her figure was slight and her blonde hair tightly pulled back, yet she could kick anyone’s ass at the drop of a hat. And as she advanced closer to Toby, the young girl seemed to hesitate as though she sensed Jean’s powerful mood shift.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Marvel Girl finally said through clenched teeth. “Yes, we sent Loki on a job but I did not know that the target was someone from the white court.”
“He wasn’t!” Toby yelled back. “He was from the black court. And he ain’t no fucking target! His name is Greg and he’s my friend!”
“Greg??” Daemon spoke up. “No way, I did not send Loki to kill Greg. Not unless Greg likes to blow things up in his spare time.”
“What are you saying?” Marvel Girl asked.
“I’m saying that Loki must have fucked up. I did not send him to kill Greg!”
“You’re wrong!” Toby yelled. “You’re fucking lying! I sat there and watched him. There’s no way. That guy knew what he was doing! And the only reason he didn’t shoot Greg was because he couldn’t! I sat there and watched. You might as well get a new assassin because the one you got sucks big time! He can’t kill!”
“Greg is Loki’s friend,” Byron answered calmly. “Of course he couldn’t kill him.” But the girl’s words had made everyone feel uneasy though none of them were really sure why.
“I don’t fucking care! Because you know what? I shot your assassin. I shot him and now I will shoot all of you! We have a pact, you know. You don’t go around killing other court members! Who will be next? Nebula? SuperGrover!!!? Me?? Oh no, we can’t have that! You greys can never be trusted!” And with that she began to randomly shoot. Everyone ducked for cover, Echo pulling Siren and Martin Blank with her.
“Okay, now that just pisses me off!!!” Marvel Girl yelled. She didn’t know who Toby was and wasn’t entirely sure on why she was there. But she would be damned if she would just sit idle while this psychopath shot at her team members. Jean put a telekinetic force field around herself and walked up to Toby, who was still shooting. The bullets ricocheted off of her with a fast popping sound. But this only seemed to make Toby more furious. She shot straight at Marvel Girl, as the bullets rained around her. The faint pink glow that surrounded Marvel Girl seemed to shine more severely as her eyes snapped. Still she kept walking, getting closer and closer to Toby. Suddenly, Maul appeared behind Toby and grabbed the gun out of her hand with such force that it caused her to cry out. Then the vampire grabbed Toby herself, pinning her arms behind her head in an effort to stop her struggling. Toby screamed and kicked, but Maul’s embrace was like iron. He stood staring at Marvel Girl; waiting for her to tell him his next move. Even in this time of chaos, Siren couldn’t help but admire how calm everyone was, considering that they had just been shot at and could have been killed. It was like they dealt with this sort of thing all of the time. The thought was disturbing, to say the least.
“Now what?” Scrib asked.
“Sedate and cage her,” Daemon answered. “I will get in touch with either SuperGrover!!! or Khalid and try to see what this is all about.”
“But she just told us what this is all about! You sent Loki after Greg. And luckily, he didn’t shoot him!” Martin Blank spoke up, standing up in his haste to be heard, his words falling over each other and jumbled in his uncertainty at standing up to the king himself.
“I told you, Loki must have screwed up,” Daemon answered, his tone betraying how angry he felt. Daemon hated being told that he was wrong. Especially by some young punk kid who had just joined the team. This was simply too much for the young recruit. He didn’t know Loki very well but that wasn’t the point.
“Daemon, admit it. You screwed up! Sure, it’s easy to blame it on Loki but it was you!”
“Martin, shut up,” Daemon raged reaching out and grabbing Martin Blank by his shirt collar.
“Quit blaming it on a guy who isn’t even here to defend himself!” Martin Blank cried before he could stop himself. He was always one who stood up for what he believed in, even when someone was scaring the shit out of him like Daemon was doing now. Daemon pushed Martin back roughly and pointed his finger in his face.
“Shut the fuck up or I’ll make you shut up!”
“Just because--” Martin was silenced suddenly by Echo’s hand on his shoulder. She gently nodded her head “no” in an effort to quiet him. It worked. Seeing that Martin was not going to pursue the argument, Daemon turned to the Grey Queen.
“Marvel Girl, make sure the girl is properly cared for. I’m going to go get someone from the White Court on the phone.” Marvel Girl nodded and motioned for Maul to follow her. I’ll put her in one of the crappy rooms, she thought. That girl knows just how to get under my skin!
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“It’s like I have all of these difference personalities in my head. . . but I still get lonely.”
--Tori Amos
She knocked lightly on the door. The whole room was lit up so that even the floor seemed to glow. And she could see the smoke billowing in the room, almost like some strange fog or cloud. She shivered through her nightgown. They wouldn’t allow her to wear her regular clothes until she agreed to start eating again. She dealt with the nightgown and the stabs of pain in her stomach instead. She looked around for him. My only friend.
He was sitting in the corner of the room, looking up at her. She expected the grin. . . a rhyme or riddle when she entered. But he just stared. He stared and stared and she couldn’t break away from his look. Because something told her that if she looked away something inside would die. He looked away abruptly and broke the trance.
“Loki, is something wrong.” He looked down then looked up. Then he held up his hands for her to see. They were heavily bandaged, but she could still see the dark red blood soaking through. It dripped from the bandages and fell to the ground like tiny rubies. Blackfire never realized how beautiful blood could be.
“You did that?” she whispered.
“Again,” he answered. “Take it off, please?” His voice was quivering under the lights. It seemed so soft and so delicate. And so did he as she knelt down beside him. As she placed her hands on her wrists and slowly began to unwind the bandages. She realized then that her face was wet and that she was crying bitterly and silently. He kept his eyes on the too white wall as she thought thoughts that were too black to see. She looked down at the wound, two large gashes that cut to the bone. . . and still the blood dripped. She was surprised it wasn’t bleeding more. There was something graceful in the dripping. Like he was playing the martyr.
“It doesn’t hurt,” he explained softly. “It feels better now. I had to bleed, you know. We all have to bleed.”
“You did this,” she whispered, the tears clouding her vision. She felt betrayed and hurt. He seemed so strong.
I bleed for you
“You did this,” she whispered again, then she started to sob. He looked at her uncomprehendingly as she suddenly jerked up his hands and concentrated. His eyes widened as the azure light started to glow and as the wound came together. Then he jerked his hands away with a wild cry that sounded like a beast in pain.
“I’m sorry,” Blackfire whispered. “I should have told you. . . I can. . .”
“You did this!” Loki whispered. “I bleed for you and you try to fix it? That’s like shoving in my face the pain I went through.”
“I thought it didn’t hurt,” she whimpered.
“It only hurts when it stays in. . . not when I let it out.”
“What are you bleeding out?”
“The pain, Sharon. The pain”
“I will heal you every time. I can’t stand it,” she told him, grabbing him fiercely by the shoulders and shaking him in her anger. “You won’t do this. You won’t give up!”
“But there’s something seductive in the way I self destruct.” She held onto his hands.
“Just remember,” she told him. “You did this. Not them. You. You caused this pain.”
“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”
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“Oh, Jake, what happened??”
“I’m an assassin. I carry a gun.”
“You shot yourself then?” she asked, smiling suddenly in spite of herself.
“Might as well have,” he grumbled. Then he gave her a look that was a mixture between agonized and playful.
“Daemon has missed you, lemme tell ya. I mean, I really think he needs to get laid. Boy, is he crabby! I’m glad you’re here. Maybe you can brighten his mood, make his day. Or at least his night!”
“Shut up,” she whispered. “You can’t walk on that.”
“Walk? Who needs to walk? I’m a man; I can fucking crawl if I need to! That’s right, no amount of pain will stop me. I am Loki, Norse God of Lies and I am here to say that I AM INVINCIBLE.”
“Delusional,” she corrected as she placed both of her hands on his shoulders and forced him to sit down.
“Ouch. That one got me right in the ticker,” he replied, letting her force him down. That’s when she realized for the first time that he was extremely happy to see her. She blinked slowly as she concentrated.
“Okay, I think I may be able to help you out here, my little friend,” she told him playfully.
“Hey, who you callin’ little? Or friend, for that matter. I happen to still hate your guts.” She shook her head; he never ceased to amaze her. It was like he had a different personality for every occasion. Only he kept using the wrong ones at the wrong time. She studied the wound for a minute with her brow furrowed.
“How does it look, doc? Am I gonna die? Am I going to that great big bowling alley in the sky?”
She had heard this kind of dialogue before. But she couldn’t remember. And trying was only leaving her feeling frustrated with a headache.
“Jake, there’s only one thing I can tell you. . .” she finally whispered, giving him a full glare.
“And that would be. . .”
“Drop your pants,” she answered flatly.
“WHAT??” Loki answered. Then he burst out laughing.
“No, I’m serious. Drop your pants. There’s no way I can heal you with all of that material stuck around and in your wound. So stop drawing this out and drop your pants, you son of a bitch!”
“Oh, I love it when you talk dirty to me,” Jacob answered, rolling his eyes as he unbuttoned his pants. “Lucky for you I remembered to wear underwear!”
“And I thank my lucky stars, believe me,” Blackfire answered. Then she placed both of her hands on his knee and concentrated as a mist-filled blue light seemed to glow around her hands.
“ So. . . what has the angel been up to? The devil wants to know,” he asked with a smirk. But she had her own smirk to return.
“Jacob, every devil I meet ends up being an angel in disguise.” He looked less pale in that moment, and she could have sworn that the look he gave her was almost grateful in it’s mocking sarcasm.
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Greg yawned as he walked over and turned on the TV. Boy, it felt great to be on vacation, even if it was for only a few days! His clothes lay in a disheveled mess on the floor and his dirty dishes lay in the sink. He hadn’t bothered to cook, clean, or even think too much and he wasn’t planning on doing anything until he had to get back to work. It was true, he had been getting a little burnt out with the Black Court. Not that he wanted to quit. No, he was far from that. He just needed a little break, and when he asked Darkwolf, The Black King, if he could have one, he was shocked to find his king more than willing to comply. He even provided him a cabin and free food. And to Greg, nothing could beat free food! He put a pizza in the oven and poured himself a huge cup of coffee.
“Life is good, eh Michael?” he asked as he flipped through the channels. He didn’t really care what he watched, he just liked the quickness of it. He liked how the colors flashed on the screen and then abruptly changed before he could even register what he had seen. He liked trying to guess what show it could have been. Hell, he just liked the fact that he was not doing work!
“Spider on the wall, makes me wanna fall,” came the answer from behind him.
“Uhm. . . suuuuure,” Greg replied shaking his head in confusion. The second day he had been at the cabin, he heard someone knocking at the door. It had turned out to be Iceblade, Blackfire’s brother. But he had the feeling that Iceblade was not well. He knew that he had been in therapy for a severe wound that almost left him paralyzed. But he seemed to be fine physically. Maybe just a little slower walking, not quite as hyper as he used to be. But there was something else wrong. For one thing, he mumbled incoherently. Then he was always saying some stupid rhyme and making up words. Greg thought he just needed some sleep and food. And he had plenty of food!
“Hey look!” Greg called out. “Dawson’s Creek!”
“I galump to the river. It makes me shiver!” Iceblade answered. Greg glared at him.
“Stop doing that. I don’t even know what you’re talking about. What are you doing anyway?” He turned around to face Iceblade and saw that he was sitting facing the wall, not moving a muscle.
“Iceblade? Michael? Mike? Michael Stokes? MICHAEL DONNIE STOKES!!?”
“I like to play with sticks, they make me sick.” Iceblade answered in a deadpan voice. Greg felt suddenly extremely wary and uneasy around his friend. He wasn’t making sense. And if he was fooling around, well, it was beyond the point of being funny.
“Michael, please talk to me. Is something wrong, bud?”
“Glitter on your face!” Iceblade yelled suddenly, turning to face him. “You’re a disgrace!!” Greg stared and noticed that Iceblade’s eyes were blank. The sparkle of mischief and life that used to be in them was dead. He shivered and stood up.
“Look, dude, I’m gonna go get some chips, okay? I’ll be back soon!” As he was walking out the door he heard an abrupt noise that made him stop in his tracks. Then he felt a searing pain run across his arm. He stabbed me?? he though in disbelief. But why? How? The ice-sword that was Iceblade’s trademark lay buried in Greg’s arm. Greg flinched and then grabbed it’s freezing cold handle, jerking it out of his arm. He ignored the pain, ignored the feeling of betrayal, ignored the confusion and turned around to face Iceblade. Only he wasn’t there. He did a quick scan around the room and saw that it was completely empty.
“Oh shit,” Greg whispered. “Houston we have a problem.”
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Mystikal allowed the cool night air to soothe her skin. She didn’t know why she left, just like she didn’t know why she stood up so fast to defend Loki. Then she realized that it was not so much that she wanted to defend Loki as it was she wanted to annoy Daemon. Everyone needed to be challenged once in awhile. Everyone needed to be questioned. That was her way of showing Daemon her respect for him. It seemed weird, but it worked. Mystikal suppressed a grin. It was obvious that Daemon was not used to this and was baffled by the way that she acted. But she knew exactly what she was doing. She still had on the dress. The black silk clung to her skin and made her arms, legs, and neck look almost translucent in the moonlight. She wondered how she would look to someone passing by. A young girl in a dress with long silvery-white hair. She wondered if that would scare anyone. She felt the sharp bite of the cold suddenly and shivered as she looked up at the stars. And suddenly she missed her home more than every before. Her longing seemed to engulf her until it was as big as the sky. There seemed not enough room in the whole sky for her pain to feel. She felt like crying.
“Starlight. . . starbright. The first star I see tonight.” She jumped and turned to the person who was suddenly standing beside her.
“Loki! You always scare me! I swear to God if you scare me like that again I’ll. . .”
“You’ll what?” Loki asked as he lit up a cigarette. “Besides, I was out here first. I wish I may, I wish I might have the wish I wish tonight.” Mystikal didn’t know how to respond to him. She never had. He seemed horribly cocky and so sure of himself that it made her sick. Yet she couldn’t help but be curious about him. His presence. . . his smirk. . . set her on edge. He almost scared her, yet she felt more intrigued than scared. He made her wonder.
Loki took a long drag on his cigarette and exhaled, the smoke billowing around his face and spreading out to the sky like a great gray bird. Then he looked at her and grinned.
“You seem unreasonably happy,” she muttered, mostly to herself. In truth, the fact that he smiled all of the time was one of the most disturbing things she had ever encountered.
“You object to me smiling at you?” Loki countered.
“Only if there is no reason,” she answered. Then she shivered again. She should have brought a jacket. But she couldn’t go inside now because he might take that as a sign of weakness. And the last thing she wanted to appear in front of Loki was weak.
“You’re in a dress. That’s reason enough.” He answered as he watched his own smoke. Then he looked at her as to see how she would react. She blushed before she could think. And this only frustrated her more.
“We have a meeting!” she stammered. “Of course, you wouldn’t know that because you weren’t there!”
“Yeah, I was too busy getting shot,” Loki snapped back. The effect of this sentence seemed to calm Mystikal.
“Are you hurt?” she asked quietly.
“Only my pride,” he answered sheepishly. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been shot? Ages!”
“Where did you get shot?” Mystikal asked suspiciously. For a wounded man, he sure didn’t look like he was in pain.
“In the knee. Blackfire healed it.” Mystikal nodded. She knew Blackfire was Daemon’s girlfriend but she wasn’t sure why she would be there.
“Of course, she had to yank off my pants to do it,” Loki muttered. “And it’s so damn cold out here that. . . well. . . nevermind.” Mystikal’s eyes widened as she took in what he was saying and she could feel herself blushing again. But that was what he wanted and he laughed in reply.
“What is your problem?” she finally spat. Sometimes. . . most of the time. . . he made her furious.
“I see you’re cold. I’m just trying to piss you off so you can keep yourself warm. Besides, you’re waaaay too easy to piss off.”
“Only by you!” she hissed back.
“Fine then, you want the gentlemanly approach. Fine!” With that he jerked off his jacket and slipped it over her shoulders before she could protest. She swallowed hard and thought about telling him exactly where he could put his “gentlemanly approach”. But instead she said: “The stars look beautiful tonight.” Loki kept his hands on her shoulders as he looked up at the sky, following her gaze.
“Yeah. . . those are some beautiful balls of gas.” Mystikal laughed.
“I think I see the big dripper over there,” Loki added, pointing to a constellation.
“It’s Big Dipper and it’s over there,” Mystikal corrected, still grinning.
“Whatever. What’s a nice girl like you doing in a crumby driveway like this anyway?”
“I wanted. . . to get away from the fighting.” Mystikal responded.
“What were you looking for?”
“What do you mean, what was I looking for?”
“Were you looking for me?”
“Why would I be looking for you!”
“You were! You were looking for me! I can tell by the way you said it,” he answered smugly, crossing his arms across his chest. Mystikal almost felt outraged. She had simply gone outside to get fresh air, and he had turned it into her looking for him! Of all the egotistical, selfish. . .
“Loki, I could care less what you were doing,” she finally settled on saying. And she hoped it hurt, at least a little. She hoped it brought him down just a notch, even if it wasn’t true.
“Then why do you still have my jacket on?” Mystikal felt her face heat up again as she tore the jacket off and flung it at him.
“Take your stupid jacket!” she cried. But he grabbed both of her arms as she was flinging and the jacket fell harmlessly to the ground. She struggled for a second but he held her fast in his grip. His hands felt hot on her cold skin. And the breeze caused her to shiver again now that she was jacketless.
“Are you finished?” he asked, his eyebrow raised. He looked like he was trying to be stern when he really wanted to smile again. She nodded and felt him relax, then she tried to jerk both of her hands free in a final winning yank. He held fast but they both lost their balance in their struggle and she felt herself falling. . . falling. She felt him abruptly twist both of them so that she fell on the grass instead of the cement. And he landed on top. Mystikal shook with rage and frustration at an awkward situation suddenly turned more awkward. And it almost seemed like he was doing it on purpose!
“Now are you finished?” he asked, his face close to hers. But at least the smirk had been wiped off of his face.
“Yes,” she replied weakly. “Now get off of me, please. I’m feeling violated.” Loki stared at her for a moment and then shrugged and rolled off. Then he helped her up.
“Shannon,” he said very quietly.
“Yes, Jacob?” she responded, just as softly.
“You were looking for me.” Then he turned and walked back into the house. Mystikal exhaled an angry breath and followed him, not noticing Daemon standing near the door with a very disapproving look on his face.