A/N: I'm on a roll with this, I'm loving it! Thankies for the reviews - maybe I'll send Loki to give you thank you gifts ;)
Camille ran as fast as she dared, shaking so badly it was a wonder she managed to run at all.
I have to get home. Get home, just get home –
His face swam before her eyes, and fresh terror spiked within her.
It's not possible, it can't be, it can't –
But you saw his mind! You know!
She did not stop even for the cars that sped across the roads, narrowly avoiding a collision.
She ran because she knew he would follow.
Of course he loves to chase, she thought bitterly. And damaged goods just make it that much more fun.
Loki watched her, his heart leaping into his throat as she raced across the roads.
"Idiot girl!" he cursed. "You'll get yourself killed if you're not careful."
He shifted to a few feet behind her, and easily kept his pace. He could hear her breathing, ragged, frightened.
Why is she frightened? he mused, his brow furrowing. The men aren't anywhere near here – they're five miles from here, face-down in a river. So why…?
Gently, he touched her mind – and withdrew instantly, shocked.
"No…" he whispered. "Oh…"
She suddenly skidded to a halt, and turned.
Turned to face him.
Only he was still invisible.
"Stop following me," she hissed, looking right at where he stood, tears still glistening on her cheeks. "Stop it. Right now."
Loki's eyes widened, and he threw away his veil. She took a step back.
"How did you know?" he asked softly.
"Back off, Silvertongue," she said, her eyes blazing. When he stared, she spoke again.
"That's your nickname, isn't it? Loki Liesmith, God of Mischief."
He was stunned – a very rare occurrence for someone like him.
"I'll take that as a yes."
"You're mortal," he murmured. "You should not even know this."
"And you're arrogant," she countered. "Now leave me alone. I'm not going to be your plaything. I know what you're like, and I don't want to be included in your games."
"I do not want a game, Camille," he said, regaining his composure. "I merely wanted to ensure your safety."
"Right. Well. Nice as it is to have a god looking out for me, I can –"
"Do not tell me you can take care of yourself." Loki raised an eyebrow. "I think the opposite was proved in that alley."
She looked as if she might hit him.
"Hitting me will do nothing. I am not fragile like a human."
Her glare darkened, and she turned away from him.
"It is not often I come across a fellow mind-reader," he said, a touch of his playful nature sparking.
She froze. Her eyes closed, and she grimaced.
"What do you want, Loki?"
"To see you home."
Camille was on her guard. Out of all the mythology she'd read, Loki was the one who most favoured wordplay.
"You only mean to walk me home. To my apartment."
He tilted his head, a faint smile toying with his lips.
"Ah, of course. You have read the myths about me. You think there is a hidden meaning in what I say."
"I don't trust you, Loki."
"Yes, and why ever should you?" he agreed. His emerald eyes glinted.
"But come now. It's getting late. Shall we?"
He held out his hand for the second time that night, and she shunned it once more.
"No, thank you. I can walk without your help."
"Do as you like. I intend to see you home safely, however." His voice was even, serene, almost.
Her eyebrows shot up.
"I don't even get a choice now?"
He grinned. "I did not say that. You are thoroughly able to walk home without my help. That does not mean I will not certify your safety."
Damn.
She sighed. "Fine. Let's go."
"Excellent. Lead the way."
She began to move, and he stayed beside her, perfectly at ease.
He noticed how she walked once more, and he frowned.
"Haven't you seen someone limp before?" Her tone was scathing, defensiveness bubbling again as she glanced at him.
"Apologies. Your gait is a curious thing," he replied. "How did you come by it?"
He saw her cheeks flush a little. "It isn't your business, L –"
Her left foot caught on a stone, and she tripped.
But instead of landing hard on the pavement, she found herself caught by a strong pair of hands, her face flush against his –
Oh, gods, his armour? Really?
"Dear me," he laughed. "You really are accident-prone –"
"Don't touch me!" she cried, backing away.
"Would you rather I had left you to hurt yourself?" His tone was incredulous.
She bit her lip, looking both irritated and pained. "I already did."
"Where?"
"Left ankle." Resentful. He fought a smile.
"Well, there's nothing for it. Up you go."
He swept her into his arms, and started along the street.
"Any chance you could put me down?" she said through gritted teeth.
"No."
"I thought not."
He chuckled, and Camille's eyes widened as she felt the sound reverberate through both of them.
So, my lady, where to?
She blinked at the voice in her head, before answering.
To the end of the street, go left, down the road, and it's the large red-brick building on the far right.
They were there in a second, and she blinked.
"I knew you were a sorcerer, but I didn't expect that."
"Ah, you want to ignore a lot of the myths, my lady." Amusement threaded his tone. "They confuse many things."
In another second, he was standing inside her apartment. He let her down, and she stared at him.
"Please tell me you did not pick the location out of my head."
He grinned. "Guilty as charged."
"Oh!" She threw her bag to the floor and limped into the kitchen, wincing at the pain that shot through her ankle.
"You know, if you wanted to get away from me, there are much better places to go."
She jumped at his voice, nearly dropping the cup she held in her hand.
"Will you stop that?"
"Camille, please. You claim to know who I am, and yet my abilities seem to scare you."
Indignation swelled.
"In case you haven't noticed, there aren't many gods wandering around on Earth! Or as you call it, Midgard!"
"Well, well, I'm impressed."
"You're completely arrogant, you know that?"
"That's twice you've called me so." His eyes glittered. "More than a hint, I suspect. Now –"
She found herself on her sofa, and with a wave of his hand, her boots and her socks were gone, leaving on her bare feet.
She looked at him accusingly.
"Where did you put them?"
"Oh, they are quite secure, do not worry." Deliberately casual; even when taking care of her, he could not resist teasing her.
Kneeling, he proceeded to take her left foot in his hands, and she gaped.
"What are you doing? Let go of –"
She inhaled as a gentle warmth spread through her toes, up through her ankles.
"Better?" he asked innocently. She narrowed her eyes.
"Yes," she admitted grudgingly. "What did you do?"
"Magic," he whispered, a sliver of a smirk edging his mouth. "Can you believe that?"
She closed her eyes. "Loki…"
He released her foot, and she pulled it up on the settee, a cushion to her chest.
"You're tired," he noted. He glanced at the clock on the wall, and a wry smile curved his mouth. "It's late. Perhaps you should rest. You've had a troublesome evening."
"I wonder why," she said sarcastically.
"You are so very cynical, aren't you?" His green eyes studied her, and she felt uncomfortable under the intensity of his gaze. "It is your shield, is it not? Your protection?"
She stared, taken aback. He merely watched, content to let her mind scramble. He was in no hurry.
"You're getting too personal," she finally whispered. "Don't ask me that."
He sensed that she was hiding a great deal of her past behind that answer, and reluctantly he stood.
Camille's eyes travelled up his long, lean body.
It did not go unnoticed by him, and he cocked an eyebrow.
"Yes?"
"You're tall. Taller than I realised."
"Indeed. You are quite petite, however." His eyes twinkled, and she blushed.
He swept her the second bow of the night, and his gaze locked on hers.
"Goodnight, Camille. Sleep well."
He vanished.
She leaned back against the sofa, and exhaled.
"Holy fuck."
A/N: Holy fudge indeed. What did you think? Love it? Loathe it? Lemme know!
Lightning xoxo
