Notes: This is a short and quite narrowly focused chapter- I'm currently in the throes of moving house (So. Many. Boxes!) so my concentration is shot, and between that and Christmas I figure if I don't finish the short chapter now, it may be quite a while before I manage a full-length one!
Warnings: None needed.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
As he drove toward the airport, Loki kept his mind sternly upon the task at hand. It would benefit no one if he involved them in an accident. Clint gave no sign of concern regarding how Loki handled the little car, which was some relief even if he was only pretending.
It was an even greater relief to reach the car park connected to the hotel, assume the glamour once again, and make their way to the room occupied by the three vampires. It would be courteous to knock, but Loki did not feel at all courteous at the moment. He pushed a little magic through the door's locking mechanism and shoved it unceremoniously open.
"What the- ?" Daisy whirled toward the door, snarling, and had taken a step forward when Loki applied the same forceful magic to her. he abruptly stumbled backward and sat down on the edge of the unoccupied bed.
Loki should have regretted his ungentlemanly conduct, but somehow he could not bring himself to do so. His badly frayed nerves were beginning to demand an outlet, and the fact Daisy was herself a predator rather mitigated his sense of shame.
"My name is Loki Odinson," he addressed her, his voice dropping to the bottom of its already quite deep register. He knew from experience, from days long past, that the tone sounded threatening. Daisy's eyes narrowed, and Loki went on, "I believe we have not met." He flicked a glance at the other, cringing, occupant of the room and bared his teeth. "Oh, hello Geoff. How nice to see you again."
"You know this one?" Clint asked neutrally, dropping without hesitation into the role of adjutant.
"Yes," Loki replied, without taking his eyes off the vampire. "Some time ago he was part of a group that abducted my friends George, and Mitchell, and Jane Foster. We met when I went to… remonstrate with them."
"I see," Clint murmured, turning thoughtfully to Geoff. The spotty-faced vampire looked scared and defiant- and then relieved, when Loki turned away from him.
Having, he hoped, emphasized that he really was not to be trifled with, Loki addressed Daisy once again.
"Clint informs me that you are in need of assistance," he said formally.
Daisy glared, but when Loki declined to conciliate, she merely gestured toward the still figure on the bed. Loki stepped forward to have a look.
At which- if only for a moment- he suddenly did feel rather sorry for Daisy after all. Vampires were capable of ordinary sleep- Hammer Films representations notwithstanding, Mitchell obviously did not swoon (or burst into flames) when the sun rose. Loki had seen his friend sleep any number of times, and except for the fact he did not breathe, Mitchell asleep looked much like anyone else: eyes closed, mouth slightly open, face relaxed and peaceful.
Ivan, sprawled on his back and half-covered with a blanket, did not look peaceful. With his glazed eyes half-open, his complexion grey, and his expression void of personality, he looked uncompromisingly dead. It was little wonder Daisy was upset.
Loki drew closer still, leaned down to rest a hand on Ivan's chest.
Like all supernatural creatures, vampires possessed a certain level of innate magic. The fact Ivan had not turned to dust had rather suggested that whatever spirit or energy animated his kind was still within him. It was apparent, however, that it was somehow trapped by or tangled in this other magic.
It took rather more effort than Loki could comfortably expend, but eventually he was able to identify disparate strands of magic affecting the vampire. Nothing stood out as a signature identifying Dr. Doom, which was a matter of some concern to Loki: having himself been influenced by the sorcerer, he would ordinarily be able to recognize the other's work when next he encountered it. The only explanation Loki could think of was that, his magic having been so thoroughly meddled with during his time in the other reality, it must have lost its memory of Doom's specific powers.
The thought of being deprived of this small tactical advantage by the actions of those other Avengers had him clenching his teeth in anger and frustration. However, Clint had made covenants with these vampires, and Ivan was needed, and there was no time for Loki to whine about his troubles.
Fortunately, Loki had considerable experience- though little of it recent- in working magic while in a state of angry frustration. The childish sense of injustice suffered could be sublimated, it merely took concentration.
The business of recognizing Doom's magic, however-
Loki removed his hand from Ivan's chest, turned, and addressed Geoff:
"You. Come here." Neither vampire happened to be looking at Barton when Loki spoke, which was as well: the man's expression of surprise showed for only a split-second, but the predatory vampires would have spotted it as a weakness. The human was hardly to be blamed: the face Loki presented to Midgard was very different from the hard, imperious one that had served him for so long in Asgard. Barton had probably expected the flash of sympathy that had weakened Loki a moment ago, had counted on it, had-
Clint was not his enemy.
Loki's lips tightened. Clint- Clint, and not Barton- had asked for his help, had not demanded or, or threatened. Clint was someone Loki could trust (he could, he could) and they were working together.
They were working together, and it was of the greatest importance to revive Ivan. Which Loki could only do by unraveling the threads of Doom's magic from that of Ivan. At the moment- better if he did not think again of the reasons- Loki could not tell the two apart.
And that was where Daisy and Geoff came in.
"What do you want?" Geoff asked, understandably nervous. Daisy glared, and Geoff tried to protest- "I just asked- "
Loki uttered a wordless, guttural noise that effectively silenced the vampire's nervous babbling- it had always worked on him- snapped his fingers, and gestured sharply.
Geoff froze, Daisy glared, and Clint obviously realized his role was to be Good Cop (given his lengthy association with Natasha Romanov, surely it was one he was used to) because he spoke up:
"How about you just explain what you need from him first?"
Loki gave an impression of thinking that over. Had he been dealing with nearly any other species in the Nine- well, perhaps not Dire Wraiths- that was exactly what Loki would have done in the first place. However, Daisy and Geoff were vampires, and he was proposing to raise a third of their number, here in a room with a human. Quite apart from his ignoble desire to vent his own hateful feelings upon someone, Loki had a very strong feeling that kindness on his part would be interpreted as a sign of weakness, and that would lead to a great deal of trouble. He could not countenance any threat to Clint, and if Ivan was to be useful- helpful- to their cause, Loki could hardly stake him or his friends.
It was therefore necessary to create and maintain the impression that Loki himself was powerful and autocratic, someone with whom the hierarchical vampires would not be tempted to trifle. Mercy was for creatures capable of appreciating it, at least for the moment.
Loki chose not to reflect on the irony of himself, of all creatures, presuming to decide who was deserving.
"I can sense magic within him," Loki said shortly, sternly resisting the urge to offer a more fulsome explanation. "Some of it belongs to him- "
"Magic?" Geoff demanded.
"He is a supernatural creature, is he not?" Loki replied testily.
"Power," Daisy corrected. Loki allowed his lip to curl as he considered her.
"As you prefer," he said dismissively. "At the moment my most pressing interest is to compare the… power… in each of you to that within Ivan. This should enable me to determine what belongs to Doom, and to detach it from him."
"How do you know our powers are the same?" Daisy demanded. Her suspicions were understandable but, once again, Loki found himself with little patience for them.
"I do not," he replied. "But if human science can test blood or genetic material and determine what species it belongs to, then perhaps you can see how a sorcerer might investigate particular types of magic and find commonalities between similar supernatural creatures."
Daisy bit her lower lip, considered, and then finally said,
"What do you need to do?"
Loki smiled- he was aware it was a most unpleasant smile, but he chose to do nothing to moderate it. "It is as the Beatles tell us," he replied. "I want to hold your hand."
Afterward, Loki was able to give credit to both vampires for courage, considering they probably feared he meant to drag their life force out through their fingertips. He had neither the ability nor the inclination to do anything of the sort. Instead, he performed a sort of scan, pinpointing the dark and oddly… sludgy… magic that animated the vampires. It felt the same in both.
He was at the moment hardly in a condition to feel confident of his memory, but he was persuaded that Mitchell felt different from these two. Not, of course, that he was in the habit of covertly scanning the magic of his friends without asking leave. But they lived in the same house, and sometimes, when sleep was elusive, Loki soothed himself by reaching out with his sorcery, reminding himself that he was not alone, that his friends were nearby.
Whatever animating spirit he brushed against when he encountered Mitchell, it was not like this. Not quite. These two felt more powerful, but it was a dangerous, uneasy sort of power. Loki could only think it must be the effects of Mitchell being "on the wagon," as he put it.
Ivan, when Loki returned to him, was fairly polluted with the dark magic, oozing like treacle. Had he not investigated the other vampires, Loki probably would have taken that magic for Doom's contribution. Enlightened, he now performed the magical equivalent of rummaging inside a deep sack, feeling as if with his fingertips for the alien magic afflicting Ivan.
Now that he had a reference point, identifying Doom's magic was not terribly difficult, like finding a square block in a bag full of marbles. The trouble began with the next step: working the strands apart. Now the process became very much like attempting to unpick threads of a single colour from a woven garment, without disturbing the rest of the cloth. Loki was very much aware that the sludgy magic was necessary for Ivan to remain alive, and it was not inherent, like the life force of a mortal creature. Both kinds of magic were in effect alien to him, and that meant both could be detached if Loki was careless. A mistake here could be fatal. The problem was compounded by the fact that both kinds of magic felt… sticky, as though each adhered to the other. It was clear that, whatever Doom had in mind for Ivan, this enchantment was not intended to be easy to lift.
Loki soon found himself with a headache, and a parching need for a cup of tea- although of course what he really wanted was for Annie to be on hand, offering to make the tea.
But Annie was far away, in Scotland, with the other Loki who needed her more, and-
- And he needed to return his mind to the task at hand before he made a disastrous mistake. Compressing his lips and focusing on the magic that sparked green from his fingertips, Loki called upon every scrap of patience he possessed. He had no idea how long he worked, and it was fortunate neither Daisy nor Geoff offered any threat to Clint in the meantime, because Loki would have been quite unable to counter it.
Luckily, Daisy was completely taken up with what was happening to Ivan, and Geoff still seemed wary of attracting Loki's displeasure. Therefore, nothing… untoward… happened. Somewhere far away Loki was aware of another inconvenient curl of sympathy toward Daisy, and even cowardly Geoff, underneath his exhaustion and anger. Quashing it was too much trouble, so he let it alone.
He was perspiring freely and his head ached by the time- with an odd sensation rather like the feeling of a cork popping free in his hands- the alien magic suddenly let go.
Ivan blinked, and sluggishly stirred. Daisy flew across the room to his side and Loki, as soon as he was certain his task was completed, stepped back to give her space.
"Ivan? Are you all right?" There was, for just a moment, a break in the humming predatory tension that animated her as much as the magic. The tension came back when Ivan at first simply looked at her with no change in his dull expression, but before the situation became critical his eyes focused.
"Daisy," he said thickly. A moment later his face was lit by a smile that would not have looked out of place on, on Thor. Thor when he looked at Jane. He still looked confused, but was apparently in no doubt about that which was important.
Truly, had Loki been in any frame of mind to indulge in sentimentality, this would have provided him with a wonderful opportunity.
Fortunately, before he could become engulfed, Ivan rubbed his head and remarked, "I could really use a drink right now." As he spoke, the eyes of all three vampires turned toward Clint, who raised his eyebrows but forbore from reminding Daisy that, until a moment ago, they had been allies.
Loki, for his part, was reminded of a conversation he had once had with Mitchell, an endless time ago, regarding what constituted entertainment for vampires. Befriending humans for the purpose of enjoying their betrayal when the time came to kill them was apparently a popular sport.
Well, Mitchell always did say that vampires were arseholes.
Fortunately, Loki was well qualified in that area, himself.
"The human is under my protection," he announced, once again taking up the bottom of his vocal register. "And should any of you feel the desire to test my forbearance, I think it only fair to inform you that I have had rather a trying week, and my patience is nearly at an end. Furthermore, Agent Barton is in fact one of the Avengers, so unless you wish to declare war upon them with immediate effect- " Loki allowed his words to trail off suggestively.
Ivan still looked rather befuddled, but he had the sense to recognize the better part of valour. At this point, Loki noticed that one corner of the room contained a table, upon which stood several implements that someone more religious than Loki might consider the answer to his prayers.
"Geoff," he said sharply.
The young vampire flinched. "Yes?"
With an imperious gesture he thought had been scrubbed out of him in the void, Loki commanded, "Go and make us some tea."
"Tea?" said Daisy.
"It will do you good," Loki replied, in an "if you know what is good for you" tone.
Ivan sighed, and conceded. "Better than nothing, I suppose."
Better than a stake to the heart, Loki agreed, , but only inside his head, as Geoff busied himself with a small electric kettle, two mugs, and two tumblers from the bathroom.