chapter 6
~ my favorite brunette ~
They were having a spell in the sitting room, though Loki had mostly faded to the background just listening to their chatter. He'd made himself scarce that morning hoping to hash out some details, only emerging because he'd promised lunch with his mother. She'd always been more understanding of his off-kilter endeavors and eager to hear of his adventures, though he tended to annotate them for the sake of necessity. He didn't need her feeling like an accessory after-the-fact.
The truth was he was planning to go after the star sapphire. It was going to be the crowning spectacle of The Vault, an upscale gallery in the heart of downtown. He still needed to drop by the exhibit, but he wanted it to be closer to the centennial so he could get a proper idea of the security. The only thing he was sure about was that it was going to be a large scale operation, though he'd resolved that it was going to be like any other heist; at least he planned to play it out that way.
"Have you seen this?" Thor suddenly asked as he slid Loki the newspaper, "I'd ask if it was you, but it's clearly a dame."
Loki glanced down to read the headline in his lap, Ruby Red Nicks Dagger. His interest had been peaked enough to pick it up and read further. Apparently there was a new player in town and they were trying to hone in on his patch. His eyes traced to the black and white drawing of the Florentine Dagger. If nothing else she was to be commended on her taste.
"You're forgetting one important fact..."
Thor raised a brow.
"Red isn't my color," Loki grinned before adding on the sly, "But I believe it is yours..."
"I do believe your brother just called you a dame," Jane's voice broke in as she came up behind Thor and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"You know I believe he did," Thor agreed as he passed Loki a narrowed glare.
"You promised to take me to Rutherford's today," she added without missing a beat, "That telescope I wanted is on sale. I think it would be marvelous on our balcony."
Thor captured her hand before she had a chance to gather her coat and purse, planting a gentle kiss on the back. She smiled as he let go and disappeared down the hall. He went to follow, but Loki gave him reason to pause.
"I won't be around this evening," Loki casually commented as he went back to the article.
"Another date with the city?" Thor teased as he grabbed his coat out of the hall closet.
Loki's green eyes flicked up, but he only indulged the remark with a smile. The one time Thor's jab about finding a dame would have worked he had to go and get it right.
That night he planned to hit up the usual spot, hoping his hunch would pay dividends. There were a number of classy joints around town with flashy décor, wealthy patrons, and soulful music, but there was only one where you could find yourself among questionable company. It was called the Ice Lounge, drenched in shades of white and blue and touched with hints of crystal. Most of the regulars were simple Joes, but occasionally someone would roll in who liked to tap dance on the line, playing between good and bad like a change of clothes. They were usually Loki's favorite kind of company, but that night he was looking for a specific type.
Loki sat at the bar with a dirty martini in crystal stemware, not so much drinking as looking the part of a paying patron. He swirled the glass, mixing the clear liquid and green olive as the big band started to belt out a sultry number. The swigger next to him perked up, momentarily forgetting he was only there to drown out his sorrows in the harsh company of alcohol and a cloud of cheap tobacco. It was then that Loki saw her, the gorgeous brunette in the red satin dress. Her blue eyes traced the room, long lashes fluttering with every bat of her lids. She was all leg as she stepped forward with a rhythmic sway to her hips. His eyes followed her through the mirrored bar as she walked behind him. Her red lips pursed slightly as she caught his stare, flashing a smile, but ending it there. Now that was a dame and by the end of the night they'd be dancing.
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Ruby walked in as the center of attention, though that had been her aim. Head-to-toe she was done up in red; pointed pumps, long satin dress, manicured nails, and gleaming lips. The ensemble had cost her a pretty penny and she'd known going in Detective Coulson wasn't likely to comp her a cent. It was funny how she seemed to be doing all the work in this arraignment. Take that back, it wasn't funny in the least.
"You do this much?" she asked as she sat down at the table across from the handsome clean shaven man in the navy suit, crisp white collared shirt, and red tie.
He'd given her a vague inclination of what he'd be wearing over the phone, but he was easy to spot without it. Detective Coulson hadn't been joking when he'd insisted he had just the gent in mind. He was the most innocent looking thing in the room, though that wasn't saying much. The furniture seemed more intimidating, might catch a jab from a table or get the trip from a chair.
"No, Ma'am," he replied with a nervous smile as he looked around the joint, seeming more out of place the longer he stared.
"First tip," she said with a smile back as she reached across the table and gave him a pat on his hand, "Don't call me Ma'am. Second tip, relax. You're making me nervous and I ain't the nervous type."
He laughed as he straightened out his tie and rested his arm on the back of his chair. It was obvious he had never been there before, not that she expected it, but with his boyish smile and good-guy charm he'd float under the radar just fine.
"What's your name?"
"Off...Steve Rogers..."
She commended him on his save.
"Well, Steve, what's a girl got to do to get a dance?" she prodded, mostly because if they sat much longer the conversation would run stale, leaving two strangers stuck at a table.
Without missing a beat he stood from his chair and offered his hand. With a smile she took it. Of course it prompted a few peculiar stares from surrounding gents, wondering what he had that they didn't, but that was the usual reception in a place like this, everyone sitting back, quietly eyeing everyone else's business and not making some of their own.
"Say you're a ducky shincracker," Steve suddenly declared as they started to trance around the dance floor.
She had to stifle back a giggle. It would have ruined the air she was trying to create. Suddenly his eyes traced up to the stage and his color noticeably drained. She was about to ask him what was wrong, but she followed his stare instead. A woman in a black sequin gown had walked to the center. She was petite with fiery red hair and an aura of intrigue.
"You know her?" Ruby casually inquired, not wanting to pry, but succumbing to curiosity.
"No...well, yes...well, I know 'of' her," he stammered.
"Do tell..." she pressed, as his response had invoked a sense of mystery and mostly the flicker of a titillating story.
"Her name's Natasha Romanova, but she goes by the stage name Black Widow. She's a singer from the USSR, a communist defector who's got enough skeletons in her closet to populate a cemetery. I didn't realize she was headlining this lounge..."
She was curious how he'd come to familiarize himself with her skeletons, but it was hardly the time or the place to delve. It was strange as they continued to dance because she could swear the woman's eyes had trained on them, pale blue and following their every move.
"You know if you stay after hours you could probably meet her..."
"No. No. Absolutely not. I don't want to stir the pot. I've caused enough trouble already. This is my ticket out of the backwaters and onto the streets."
"Trust me I think that pot wants to be stirred, if you catch my drift."
Judging by his puzzled look he didn't, but when his eyes widened she knew he'd connected the dots. With a laugh she suddenly felt a cool hand slide across her back.
"I believe this next dance is mine..." a seductively proper voice clipped in and Steve was too stunned to object.
Suddenly the band began to play Moonlight Serenade by Glenn Miller. The beautiful mix of clarinet and trumpet carried through the room. Ruby's mystery dancer spun her into his arms and she drowned in a sea of emerald eyes.
"What's your name honey?" he asked as they swept across the dance floor and the endearment oozed with as much appeal as its amber namesake.
He was light on his feet and moved liked a vision. He came from money. It reeked in every one of his mannerisms. Even without hearing his spiel she knew he was a predator, hungry and insatiable, on the prowl. The way they'd begun to move, the look in their eyes, like a couple of wild animals. It scared her how quickly she'd fallen for his spell.
"What's yours?" she quipped back with the flash of a smile.
"So we're going to play that game are we?" he remarked with a grin, a captivating gesture that spread deviously across his features.
"You initiated it."
"I always do..." his whispered as the red haired crooner on the stage began to sing with a low tone that went with the mood.
"I stand at your gate and the song I sing is of moonlight.
I stand and I wait for the touch of your hand in the June night.
The roses are sighing a Moonlight Serenade."
"Are you here with that square?" he inquired as his face brushed her hair.
"He has a handsome face, that's got to count for something."
"The stars are aglow and tonight how their light sets me dreaming.
My love, do you know that your eyes are like stars brightly beaming?
I bring you and sing you a Moonlight Serenade."
"What's the good of a handsome face," he smiled as he dipped her and quickly drew her back up into his arms, "If he can't leave you breathless."
"I don't want to be breathless..."
"The flush of your cheeks and your racing pulse have told a different story."
"So don't let me wait, come to me tenderly in the June night.
I stand at your gate and I sing you a song in the moonlight,
A love song, my darling, a Moonlight Serenade."
The song had stopped, but they were both still swaying.
"Besides," he grinned, "I don't think your 'friend' would understand your nighttime interests."
She felt herself blush at his suggestive innuendo. Most dames would have slapped him, but she wanted to see how it played.
"I know who you are, hard to miss, you're dripping Ruby Red," he grinned as his eyes traced her up and down after he released her from a spin, "Come see me when you're ready for a real score. I think the only thing you're missing is a flashy gem."
"You know...I think you're right. A gal could always use a little sparkle," she joked as she tried to read if he was the real deal.
He handed her a card and walked away with a knowing smirk. He was good and he knew it. She turned the rectangle paper in her hand. It was expensive, egg-shell with a satin finish and embossed gold lettering.
Loki Laufeyson, President
Nine Realms Travel
500 1st and Main
"Gateway to the World"
She smiled to herself. There were a handful of millionaires in the world, usually attached to a family dynasty of power and prestige. People so rich they could do everything or nothing, it didn't really matter. She'd just met one of them and she was curious if he was for real or playing an angle to get some action on the side. It was hardly the first time a man pulled a line, but his was a doozie. Masquerading as Spectre was a surefire way to wind up in a heap of trouble.
"Was that him? Was that Spectre?" Steve whispered as he came up behind her and she gave a jump as he startled her from her trance.
"I'm not sure. I don't think so. Seems like a wealthy gent imitating, but I'll follow it up, see where it leads," she let out a sigh, as she'd just made up her mind that he was in fact Spectre.
"Are you okay?" Steve suddenly asked as he offered his arm.
She slid her hand into the crook of his elbow and forced a smile, "Yes, I'm fine."
Even before she said it she knew it was a stone cold lie. She'd found danger in the form of a specter and his name was Loki.
