7. The Price

"She's mine." The one Natasha had introduced as Hundred entered Loki's chamber, looked around, sniffed, and spoke without preamble. "I already fucked her, so there's that."

Jealousy made his vision streak with blood and sparks for a moment, but Loki had learned several things after the affair with Sigyn and Theoric. It was of the utmost importance to hold his tongue and wait for an opportunity to deliver a masterstroke to any opponent with merciless steel. Thus he merely returned to staring out the window as though it were the most fascinating sight in the Realms. "I know not of whom you speak."

A flurry behind him, an impetuous hand on his shoulder, and he was confronted by a pair of angry, desperate eyes. "5. I'm talking about 5. She's mine – we were supposed to have a bath together with wine and gossip until you came and ruined the whole thing."

Loki allowed a slow smile to creep across his mouth. "I am merely here to enact a rescue. She told me to get a job first, and here I stand."

Dark brown eyes painted him with contempt. "You? Get a job here? I doubt you know the first thing of pleasure."

His desperation made Loki laugh, even as he tamped the fury prickling in his nostrils and spinning webs around his heart. "Dear boy," he purred, "I know more of pleasure than you ever will in your entire short lifetime. Over the course of several hundred lovers I've invented sex acts you can't even begin to imagine."

"5 is mine," Hundred repeated.

The boy was becoming incredibly tedious. "I highly doubt the lady would appreciate being claimed as belonging to anyone – neither you nor me. If I were you I would return to your sad excuse for a bedchamber this instant." He smiled again with enough teeth to show the lad he veiled the threat with soft words.

Hundred, while flighty and silly, seemed to understand. "Okay, but 5 is mine, and you can't change it. We already shared a client, and my dick has been inside her – has yours? If I were you, I'd leave the castle and find a rundown whorehouse willing to accept used-up slags." He whirled on one toe, pulled the door open violently, and left.

Goaded beyond endurance, Loki felt his rage encompass the last of his calm. That very day he had seen Thor changed into something hideous, and he lost the last threads of his temper. Without knowing what he did, he followed the boy into the hall and shouted, "Her name isn't 5! She is Natasha!" A shocked hush fell over the floor. Several heads appeared around the old, rotting doors lining the hallway and quickly disappeared when they caught Loki's furious expression. At the end of the passage Hundred froze, and his hands curled into claws.

"Hundred." The speaker appeared from a hidden flight of steps; Loki saw she was a beauty with long, dark hair glistening under the lanterns swaying overhead. "Go to your room, and stay there."

Loki noted the woman spoke with calm authority as if she were well-used to being obeyed. Several of the listeners instantly retreated into their rooms. Hundred, however, swaggered towards the speaker. "Very well, mother," he sniggered. It was exactly the sort of thing Loki himself would have tried in a similar situation.

The woman raised one eyebrow. "I believe the last time I saw you it was on the floor of my room with your hand in your pants. Speak to me with disrespect again and you'll be sent to Kronsteig's bath as a bottom. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes – yes!" The panic in Hundred's voice was obvious. He scuttled towards the elevator like a rabbit on the run from a ravenous wolf.

The woman watched him descend. Smoothly she moved to Loki's chamber and entered. "Did you hear all of that?"

Loki didn't want to start unnecessary trouble just yet. Besides, he wanted to get the job so he could rescue Thor. "Yes," he murmured.

"Is your quarrel with him finished?"

"Yes." He was in no mood to give obeisance, but Loki wanted to rescue Thor, take Natasha, and get the Hel out of the forlorn castle – the entire place was a shit heap as far as he was concerned.

"Very well." The female produced a clipboard. "You will address me as Mistress von Bardas. And you will sign here on the line to give us power over your affairs during the length of your employment."

Loki nodded, took the pen, and scribbled on the line. Von Bardas took the pen, held it over the page, and proceeded to vacuum up the ink from his signature. "Henceforth you shall be known as …"

He stopped listening. The scrawl was one of his many names, and apparently she thought she had stolen it; probably she had done the same to the frightened Hundred and Natasha as well. However, Loki was Loki and always would be, no matter what happened; never would he be a mere number in the castle's accounts.

Von Bardas left, and Loki smiled with sudden delight. He had passed the first few tests of securing employment and keeping his name; it was time for his reward. He intended to summon a beautiful illusion for Natasha to win her into the pillows - perhaps a corded string of fire opals, or a wreath of sweet-smelling mignonettes. Once he had bedded her, he could secure Thor and return to Asgard, his desires for the fire-haired maiden satisfied. It would leave him purposeless, but Loki was certain he could find something new to occupy his interests.

He flicked his fingers to weave a new piece of trickery; the realization struck him like ice in his veins. It was as though he had just had a limb cut off, as though the bleeding stump of his arm poured gouts of blood over his chambers. Lucia had not stolen his name, no. Instead, signing the contract of work had cost Loki his magic.

Natasha's room was on the floor below. It was easy to climb out of the window, shin down the ivy, and swing himself through her window into her chamber where she lay in bed reading a book and swinging a tattered slipper from one toe. Loki felt himself harden as soon as he saw her on the bed wearing a robe that had ridden up to reveal her smooth thighs and round behind – simply perfect for his hands, he thought. He had lost everything else; Loki promised himself he would not lose this.

He planned to join her among the pillows, but as soon as he approached she rolled to the floor on the other side, putting the bed between them in one fluid move. "I am not here to threaten you." Loki approached slowly, thinking he would have her pinned to the mattress in minutes; he simply couldn't wait any longer.

"Oh, it's you." Natasha got off the floor, brushed dust off her hands, and got back on the bed. "Did you get the job?"

"Indeed. I came to offer my thanks."

He edged closer on the stone flags, but she waved him away. "You're welcome, and by the way, get out. This is my free time, and there's precious little of it here."

"Hundred was nearly sent to the baths with someone called Kronsteig." Instinct told him the piece of news would win him a few more seconds at her side.

Natasha peered over the edge of her book. "Was he acting like an ass?"

"Well – yes."

She snorted. "Just watch your back. You don't want to end up as Kronsteig's bitch, believe me."

"Natasha, I am no one's 'bitch'."

He had thought her eyes were blue, but in certain lights they appeared green as deep water. She eyed him thoughtfully and nodded. "Okay, I get that. You've grown up a great deal since you first appeared in my water basin, right? When we first saw each other you were a kid. My guess is a lot happened to you since then."

Loki didn't want to talk about that, but it did offer an opening. "Did you enjoy seeing me in your bath?"

"Don't try spinning your little web of seduction on me. I told you, we have very little free time, and I keep it for myself."

"And a bath with Hundred?" The question left his lips before he could bite it back, his jealousy rearing like vomit in his throat.

"What happens here is a job, and I keep it separate from who I am, what I want. Those things are hidden away until my op is complete and we get out of here." Natasha got off the bed once more and pointed at the window. "Get your magical butt back onto the ivy and up to your own room."

Loki stifled a sigh. Obviously it would take more time to win the lady to his bed, something he didn't really mind. Time was one thing he had to spare, even with the task of finding Thor. Truth be told her fierce attitude attracted him even further, making it more imperative he sink his hardness into her soft, yielding flesh. Naturally, he had to try for her favors one last time. "Will you grant me one kiss?" he asked.

Her only response was to throw back the curtains and point again at the glass.

"Very well." He hoisted himself onto the windowsill, his legs splayed wide. Without magic, Loki would have to rely on his silvered, titillating tongue. The position brought his lips close to her ear, and he whispered, "When you do yield to me, Natasha, it will be ecstatic for both of us. I promise you untold delights and sensations you cannot comprehend in this dimension…"

"OUT."