Chapter 10

The Wild Hunt Ends

As Ellie prepared herself for a long day of work, she tried to piece together what had happened the night before.

With each burgeoning thought, the need to grab a knife from her kitchen drawer and run into through her stomach grew.

I invited him over to my house? After he had insulted me? After he teased me? And then, and then(!), I made him dinner. I cooked for the guy.

She groaned, imagining the knife in her gut. She deserved to give it a good, hard twist after what she had done.

And then I-no he...he...

Her first instinct was to call his action a kiss. An outsider would probably call it as much.

But it wasn't a kiss. He barely touched me. And there was nothing there. No heat in his eyes, in his touch. It wasn't a kiss.

Of that she was quite sure. But what to label it still eluded her. She fed Harrison, who had been following her around the entire morning. As the dog chomped and chowed on his food, Ellie sat on the ground by his side.

"What do you think it was?" she asked aloud. Harrison lifted his head and stared blankly at her. Ellie was overcome with the feeling of being judged. She glared playfully at the pooch and pushed his large head away.

"Oh, what do you know?" Pushing herself onto her knees, then her feet, Ellie left the house.

As she trampled down the stairs to her car, the final memory of the night before hit her like a train.

Can I see you again?

Her own voice rang like a fire bell in her ears. She was tempted to punch herself in the face.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...

She piled into her car and drove off to work. If anything, he wouldn't be seeing her today. She had said a lot of things the previous night and, while she couldn't remember all of them, she was almost entirely sure she said nothing about where she worked.

It was Tuesday. Most Tuesday's she worked both the breakfast and lunch shift and today was no different.

Ellie had been lucky to get the job. She had never had any experience working before. Her parents had thought that she should be limited to her studies while in school. They provided her money so she had no reason to complain.

The truth was, she wished she had started working long before now. She liked it. When she was handed a check with pile of tips she felt a proud as a prize pig. The money was all hers and no one else's. She had earned it. It was a simple joy, raking in those dollars and coins. But a joy none the less.

The Crooked Crow was something Ellie only could have imagined in her wildest dreams. It was a nice restaurant, not terribly casual and not a nose-stuck-in-air posh place. The owner was an artist with a mind sound enough to know that getting by on selling paintings in California was just not a suitable way to live a comfortable life. He had found a bevy of up and coming cooks and they crafted a menu that was simple but very tasty.

What The Crooked Crow lacked in size it made up for in style. The owner, Emerson Stevenson, had designed the place himself, relying on investments from some of his successful friends. It was more of a cafe really. The building was barrow and cramped, but there were two stories for seating and a tight kitchen.

The second floor was usually crowded with college students who took to the full coffee bar that Emerson had built. Every so often one studying student would wander down and order a sandwich or fried anything. Below on the bottom floor, small booths and a bar provided the bulk of the seating. As per the fire code 37 individuals could be packed into the bottom floor and 15 on the second floor.

Ellie had loved the restaurant/cafe from the moment she stepped inside. She could only imagine the types of people who would become regulars, the sorts of folks that would wander in just as she did. What appealed to her most was the opportunity to be inspired. If she worked there, she would meet the most fascinating people. She wanted the job, if only to mull through a treasure trove of patrons. One of which could very well be the one she could draw from for words and plot lines. The thought excited her to no end and she admitted an application that very day.

In her interview with Emerson, she debated whether or not to tell him her true motivations. She ventured to be bold and she knew it was the right decision. As a creatively minded old soul, Emerson was delighted by her admission. He confessed that he too, frequented his cafe in order to look for models to paint or sketch.

Ellie loved working at The Crooked Crow. Sure she didn't meet a muse every day, or every week for that matter, but she did meet a person or two that made it into her journals and took on a life of their own.

There were aspects of the service job that frustrated her to no end. Pretentious Hollywood types and entitled housewives were frequenters as well as some people who just enjoyed acting like asses. They came and they went. Ellie had to work to stay her tongue. Every so often her manager would whisper something about spitting in the food, especially when a particularly curmudgeonly (and grabby) gentleman named Frasier Fox came calling.

Parking her car in the back lot, Ellie climbed out. Entering the kitchen she waved to Eddie and Al, the morning cooks, and walked to her locker to grab her apron and dump her purse off.

The morning went smoothly. She and the other two waitresses on duty had an easy handle on the sparse weekday morning crowd. It wasn't until the afternoon that Ellie had any reason to fret.

A crowd of Christmas shoppers, mostly women, wandered in. As Ellie rushed about serving up bowls of the Tuesday soup with half sandwiches.

Saying a sweet thank you to an adorable elderly couple, Ellie pocketed their generous tip. She made her way back to the kitchen intent on scarfing down a slice of the quiche she knew Eddie was about to pull from his oven.

And then she saw him.

Eric sitting in one of the booths just before the kitchen.

God! How did he know? Did he know? Or was he just stopping by?

She was momentarily distracted by his form of dress. Never before had she seen a leather jacket look so dashing. Eric wore the jacket well, matching it with a checkered scarf. Her first instinct was to rush by him hoping to go unnoticed. When she review the move in her head she realized how childish it sounded.

She was a grown woman. I should really start acting like one...

"Hello." She said amiably, placing one hand on the back of the booth, the other on her cocked hip.

Loki turned to face his overworked prey with a spark in his eyes. If she was surprised to see him, she was hiding it well. He just loved when people played along with him.

"Good afternoon."

But Ellie was done playing. "What are you doing here?"

Loki smirked. "I was hungry."

"Yes, but..." She stopped. Was she being petty? Was it egotistical of her to assume that he was here to see her? Yes, Ellie, it really is.

Having completely lost her train of thought, and feeling thoroughly embarrassed by her own brashness, Ellie walked back into the kitchen without bothering to finish her sentence.

"Hey, El. I've got the order for table 6. Two Capri's with Caesar's and a Blackened Chicken Wrap. And the extra bread."

Ellie thanked Eddie and took the plates and bread basket into her hands and arms. Balance had been a learned skill for Ellie. Up until very recently she had struggled with carrying more than three plates.

She pushed her back against the swinging door and carefully made her way out onto the floor.

Eric, it seemed, was waiting for her to reappear. The moment he saw her he lifted his hand and curled his lengthy fingers.

She sighed and reluctantly came to a stop next to his table.

"Yes?"

"Do you always wear those..." He gestured grandly with his hand, leaning back in the booth. "...clothes?"

Ellie, for instinct's sake, looked down at herself. It wasn't until this moment that she had ever found anything wrong with the outfits management handed to them. They were a far cry from racy. She wore a pair of long, black pants and a sleeve-less collared blouse. A red and white striped apron hung from her hips and, per dress code, she had flipped her hair into a braided bun and the base of her neck.

"Yes." She said curtly, her arms beginning to tremble under the weight of the plates she carried. "If you'll excuse me..."

He watched her as she walked away from him towards a table across the restaurant. A light grin played at the corner of his lips. She was a funny little thing. It seemed everything she began to grow tired of his questions, she would unconsciously mock his higher level of speech. Her head would bob back and forth and her eye lids would flutter like lost little butterflies.

He had not known many women. The ones he had, his mother, Lady Sif, the menial servant girls, all of them acted nothing like this brash little woman. Sif was the only woman he had known to dare tangle with him. She was never afraid at throwing an attacking word or black-eyed glare his way. Ellie it seemed, felt the same way, except that she displayed her annoyance and outrage at him with a more subtle grace. She had been the first to mock him directly. It was amusing to him. He wanted to laugh out loud but knew better than to cause a scene.

A tall girl with miles of blonde curls appeared before him, wearing the same masculine attire that Ellie wore.

"Good afternoon, sir! Can I get you something to drink?" She said, far too loudly for his ears.

He hardly allowed her a glance before raising his hand in the air and waving at it. The girl seemed confused by the gesture that clearly said: "Shoo." Her confusion was short lived however. Her eyes glazed over and she wandered away as quickly as she had come.

Loki returned his attention back to Ellie who was walking back his way. It was clear the girl was determined to avoid his gaze. She held her head high, her eyes conveying deep focus. As she neared his table, one she had to pass in order to reach the kitchen, Loki held his hand in the air.

Ellie came to a sudden stop. She cursed herself. She had planned to walk right by him, avoid eye contact, and hide in the kitchen. But she had stopped. Why did I stop? Why feet? Why?

She was torn from her self-scolding thoughts when the lightest of coughs reached her ear. Pursing her lips she looked down at Eric where he sat. He wasn't looking at her though. Ellie's reserve cracked only for a second. She didn't want to admit to it, but...She wanted to look into his eyes. God help me. I do. They are so...

"Are you going to...take my order?" He asked slyly. Ellie's shoulders sagged.

There it was. The reason she hated to admit that he was a gorgeous, handsome man. That tone. As velvety and smooth as his voice was there was meanness there, teasing, patronization. Sick and sweet. She was drawn to it and she hated it.

"No," She said, keeping her voice hospitable. "This isn't one of my tables. This is Nora's table."

She pointed her pencil over her shoulder to where the curly-haired blonde was serving a couple coffee. "She'll take your order."

Without waiting for him to respond, Ellie escaped into the kitchen. Hurrying through the door, she leaned up against the wall panting like she had just run a marathon. After babbling off another order to the cook, she slunk over to the door.

"You okay, there?" She looked up to see her manage, Scotty.

"Yes!" She said, "Perfect."

"Good." Scotty said, running his hands through his carrot-red hair. "Because I'm going to need you to take Nora's tables for the rest of your shift."

Ellie's face fell. You have got to be kidding.

"What? Why?" She asked.

"Nora's not feeling to well."

"Not feeling well? And you believe her?"

"She emptied her gut into a customer's lap, Ellie. I believe her. Excuse me, I've got some apologies to make."

Ellie followed him out onto the floor. She peeked her head around the wall. Sure enough, a very apologetic looking Nora was on her knees, towel in hand. A shell-shocked young woman was staring into her lap, a look of unmitigated horror etched on her face.

Ellie slunk back into the kitchen, running through the odds in her head.

Oh who cares? You don't have to sit there and eat the meal with him...Just grow a sack and get out there.

Slipping her notepad out of her apron, Ellie gulped in a much needed pocket of air. She exited the kitchen and walked over to his table. There he was, glancing through the menu looking as innocent as a caged bird.

Ellie coughed politely, but he didn't respond. She resisted the urge to tap her foot against the shiny wooden floor like an impatient teenager.

Finally he looked up at her, his eyes alight with something she could only categorize as...mischief.

"Hello." She said wryly, trying to be the bigger...person. He said nothing.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Ellie asked, resisting the urge to bite her own tongue out.

"A hot tea." He said matching her cool, effortless tone.

"Right." She said, tucking her pencil behind her ear.

"Wait, now." He called, like a trainer would call his prized pooch.

Ellie spun around, a wry grin on her face. "Yes?"

"I have a question." He said. "About the menu."

"Alright," Ellie said.

"When will you be done with this...work?"

It wasn't even slightly a question about the menu, but that was not what bothered Ellie.

The way he said work...like it wasn't work at all. Or even if it was work... it's a laughable excuse for work. Who does this bastard think he is?

"I'm not sure. Don't feel like you have to wait around for me." She said, a bit on malice mixed in her words.

"Not at all." Eric said, affably.

Ellie didn't reply. What is this guy's deal?

She stomped into the kitchen, feeling thoroughly undone. "I need one green tea. Pot and all."

This is going to be a long shift.

Ellie's afternoon had been extended thanks to Nora's impromptu sickness. She was only signed up to work for three hours, but thanks to her co-worker's illness she was forced to stay for five. It was a mixed blessing. She was happy to get the extra pay and tips were generally greater as the day went by. But it also meant that her feet would be very angry with her when the day was done.

She had wrongly assumed that Eric would give up on her but her luck had seemed to run dry. He sat as his table ordering tea and a salad, more tea and a slice of pie. He seemed to be a good mood and Ellie couldn't understand why this vexed her so.

Eric was, on first glance, an elegant gentleman. Something that was, in this modern society, a rarity. Something any girl would be lucky to have. He dressed well. Very well. He carried himself with an almost inhuman grace. He spoke with a clear accent, something that didn't sound at all American, but not entirely British either. As Ellie served table after table, she noticed that woman after woman paused to stare at him. None of them, it seemed, rustled up the courage to go and talk to him. They seemed to be just as confused by him as she did.

It took Ellie hours of watching him before she figured it out. He was the sort of man that was meant to be admired from a distance. There was something about him that was...off. Yes, that was it. So poised was he, so perfect, that there must have been something dark and twisty hiding behind the carefully pressed jack and precisely combed hair. She, and the other female patrons of the restaurant could sense something predatory about him.

It's that saying...too much of a good thing.

Ellie had always been told tales of men like this. Ones who seemed wonderful, ones that were kind and polite and pretty. She and her sister had been warned their entire lives to be wary of such men. Mostly though, they were businessmen. Eric wasn't a businessman.

She pulled loose the tie that held her apron about her and dropped it into a small laundry basket in the corner of the kitchen.

"Thanks for picking up the extra tables, Ellie." Scotty said, handing her an envelope of change and dollar bills.

"No problem." Ellie said, flashing Scotty a quick smile. "I'll see you on Thursday."

Scotty just nodded and went about his business.

Ellie went to her locker, pulling her purse and her coat out of it. She stuck her purse in between her knees and donned her jacket.

Now what?

She couldn't leave the building without passing Eric's table.

What are you thinking? Sneaking around like some...like a...a mouse. A timid little mouse.

Ellie didn't want to be a mouse. She could not understand what it was about Eric that made her skin crawl. Snark and insulting wit aside, he seemed perfectly lovely.

But that's just it. He seems that way. Sure he helped you out, but why? Out of the good of his heart?

When Ellie had become so cynical, she had no idea. She could not help but thinking that, by denying herself the opportunity to get to know this man, she was denying herself a potential road to happiness. She had roommates like that. Ones who wanted nothing more than to bask in their own self-pity and depression.

I don't want to be that person. She thought. Summoning her pride, she stepped on the floor and headed straight for Eric's table.

Sliding into the booth opposite him, she folded her hands in front of her and stared into his eyes. She almost lost herself right there and then. His eyes. Those damned orbs that looked as though they could swallow her whole, leaving her to float in an emerald abyss.

Steeling herself she began to speak:

"Alright. I'll be the very first person to say that...I'm not much on reading people. It's just not a skill of mine."

She faltered a bit, watching his brow furrow. Had she come on too strong? She had sort of raced over to him, slid into the booth as if some creature was on her tail.

"If we are going to continue...erm, "seeing each other?" Well, I need to know exactly was "seeing each other" means to you. Because, it could mean a number of things and I just want to be clear..."

She waited for him to give her an answer. Lifting her clenched hands to her mouth, she hunched her shoulders.

He smiled, the same smile he always wore. The one that evoked shivers in Ellie's spine. Slowly he brought his arm down onto the tabletop his palm facing the ceiling. Ellie stared at it and then realized that he meant for her to place her hand in his. With terrible caution Ellie did so. She almost gasped when his fingers closed around hers like a vice.

"Elizabeth." He said. Ellie's eyes fluttered spastically under the combination of his stare and the sound of his voice saying her name. "I only wish to spend time with you. I want to know you, darling. It is that simple. Do you mean to say you do not wish to spend time with me?"

It was such a straightforward question, Ellie was taken aback. Nobody talked like that. Everyone hid there feelings, stumbled around them, pretending they weren't real.

Maybe he's lying. Instinct whispered to her. He could be lying...Wait. Darling? Darling?

Ellie had suspected that Eric was a liar. When he had told her of his work, his family, his home, Ellie was slow to believe him. But right now, in this moment, he seemed to be truthful, full of honesty.

"I-I'm not-I don't know." She said truthfully.

Eric smiled. He released her hand and pulled himself out of the booth.

"Well, then." He said, offering up his hand again. "Let us find out. Together."

Ellie stared at his hand and back up into his eyes. Together.

It sounded so appealing. Being apart of a "together." When was the last time...?

She looked his hand and he helped her out of the booth.

"Okay." She said, still toying with the idea. What do I have to lose?

The light in the sky was only just beginning to fade, when Ellie and Eric left the restaurant. He walked ahead of her as she stalled, pretending to fix her jacket. She was unsure of what she was doing. He was a stranger. A handsome, polite stranger.

But a stranger.

She was pulled from her conundrum when she almost ran into him. He was offering her his arm.

Again. Who does that anymore?

A frightfully chilly breeze swept past her suddenly. She felt in on the back of her neck like a block of ice. Suddenly his arm, his closeness, was much more appealing. Hesitantly, she slipped her arm around his. He held it close to his side.

Ellie felt her heart hammering in her throat. Here she was walking down a street, her arm entangled in another mans.

We must look like such a couple. It almost caused her to shudder. She had spent a good lot of her time scoffing at such public displays. But she did like the feeling of her palm clutching at the stiff leather of his jacket. They walked down the sidewalk and into the small park that sat in between a row of small novelty shops and a barber's shop.

The sun was setting quickly and the pink sky was turning purple quickly. The moon hung high the clear winter sky, more full that not. Small lanterns lined the path in the park. A small manmade stream traveled like a dormant snake throughout the park. It started at a fountain and looped around ending at a small pond on the other end. It was quiet in the park, only one other couple was present. They occupied th quaint little gazebo that sat in the middle of the garden.

Eric led her too a small stone-and-pebble bridge that was built over the rushing stream. They stood at it's peak. Ellie looked up at him, his eyes were trained on the stars above. He sighed loud and long.

Standing on the unforgiving stone, Ellie was reminded of her aching feet. She slipped her arm away from Eric's grasp and hoisted herself onto the ledge of the bridge. The ledge was rather high and when Eric turned to question her she was level with his eyes.

She grinned bashfully and glanced up at the stars that were only beginning to show their sparkly faces. Eric stepped to her side, leaning his elbows against the ledge. She could feel his arm brushing against her thigh as if it were aflame.

She watched as he stared into the stream, his eyes deep and dark.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked in a whisper.

Loki watched the black water swirl and swell below him. The sound of it's rushing was haunting him. It was kin to the rushing water below the rainbow bridge. He was suddenly struck with a terrible homesickness. He wrestled violently with himself trying to sjake it away.

"Home." He said, too angry to offer a suitable lie.

"Oh." Ellie said, picking up on the venom in his voice. "Do...do you miss your family?"

Loki snorted. It was ugly and disdainful. Ellie felt uncomfortable.

"It's awful, isn't it?" She said. He looked at her. She felt trapped in his gaze. "Loving them. And hating them with all of your heart."

The paradox hit him hard, rattling his bones and shaking his mask.

Damned woman. She had done it again. Sliced through him with empathy. He hadn't chosen her to be the one to help him to full strength. If the fates had smiled upon him, he wouldn't have chosen a living soul on this planet.

If I don't stop her from talking...

He straightened his back so that he could tower before her once more. A terrible grin blossomed on his face. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he watched her face contort into one of confusion. He was done hunting, it was time to make his kill.

"Elizabeth." He said, his voice a frosty whisper. "We should stop this."

Ellie's brow furrowed, her heart hammering in her chest. "St-stop what?"

Loki breathed a laugh, he leaned forward so that his lips were close to her ear. "Come now, we both know what it is I want. And...what you want."

Ellie gasped as his hands parted her knees. He leaned into the wall his arm winding around her back and pulling her to him. He was so close, his chest pressed against hers, his hand falling to clutch at her waist.

"You are a lonely soul," He whispered urgently. "As am I. Isn't true? All we need is some...raucous company."

Ellie's back arched instinctively at the lust that suffocated his words. She bit down on her lip trying to stop herself from answering. She wanted to say yes. She wanted him to do as he pleased. God knew she was aching for something like this to happen.

She had daydreamed about such moments. Written a smut story or two. On days where her loneliness turned into something more carnal. She wasn't proud of it. But she was not prideful enough to deny her own imagination.

But this...this is really happening. Isn't it? Or is he teasing me.

As if to answer he growing doubts, Eric's lips descended onto hers, his other hand snaking around his shoulder. This was nothing like the first contact. He was hungry for her it seemed.

Ellie felt pride and sense whither away. She felt her legs begin to wrap themselves around his waist. Her hand traveled up his chest, round his neck and settled in his ink black locks. She kissed him back with all of the force she could muster. But he was still stronger. He leaned forward, catching her body as she dipped backwards.

This is what he had wanted. Her body as close to his as possible. He could feel a fire growing in him, his senses became instantly stronger. He could smell the lotion she wore, feel her small frame shuddering in his arms.

For such a tiny creature she sure has a grip on my hair. He thought, sneering against her lips. He knew she couldn't bear to resist him for much longer. He broke the kiss, is ears filled with the sound of her mewling.

He hushed her protests, his lips falling to her neck. As he predicted, she clutched him closer to her still, a delightful groan rumbling in her voice box. Her skin was clear, soft and supple. Her taste covered his tongue. Without a hesitation, he bit into her skin. The small shriek of pain that met his ears fostered joy in his heart. The stinging metallic taste of her blood on his tongue was almost tangible. It was there, the white hot life energy that lay inside her young body.

He pulled back, fighting to control himself. There would always be more. He feared that, if her rushed her, she could collapse, the fragile little bird that she was.

Loki felt completely at ease. Ellie, on the other hand, was beside herself; gasping like she had just ran for miles.

He sneered, brushing a tangle of red hair back behind her ear. "Are you dying?"

He's mocking me. Ellie thought, huffing.

"I wish you wouldn't do that." She snapped, pushing him away.

"Oh come now, lovely." He said, enjoying the look of hatred on her face. "I don't mean to irk you so."

He touched her cheek lightly, turning her gaze back to him.

"You do." She said, indignant. "You do."

"And if I do?" He asked of her. "Does it really bother you so?"

Ellie opened her mouth before she was sure of what she was to say. I guess. I can take a little teasing. I mean...if I get...all that...

"Well...no." She admitted. He smiled wide, helping her from her perch on the bridge.

"Oh course not." He said fluidly, he took her arm and tucked it under his again. "You, Elizabeth, are made of stronger stuff."

Elizabeth looked up at him still a bit undone. Stepping up onto her toes, she pressed her lips gently into his. It was soft kiss. Nothing like the previous.

Loki felt a strange pain in his heart. It was as though Ellie had reached into him and wrapped her slender fingers around his most vital of organs.

Is she trying to shift the balance of power again? No, I will have none of that...

Slipping his index finger between their lips he forced her away from him. She backed down, but a sill smile teased the corner's of her flushed lips.

He shot her an accusatory look. Just what is she up to?

Ellie seemed to understand. "Yes, I am made of stronger stuff. Are you?"

So that's how it will be. He thought. This truly is a game. Who will bend first? We shall see...

The pair walked arm in arm, each lost to thoughts of victory.

Well, I had a terrible couple of days. And then I read all of your reviews and I felt loads better. You all are so wonderful. Thank you so much. I think I'll have to up the rating to M after the next chapter...

The whole leather jacket look is all thanks to that beautiful Tom Hiddleston. Sorry for the last chapter being rife with mistakes. I have no excuses really...

The story is still a little slow for my tastes. I think I need to sit myself down and thoroughly plot this baby out. I may not be able to update until Sunday night, but we'll see.

As always, thanks for reading and please leave me some feedback!

;0)