Chapter 16
April stirred awake, eyes opening lazily to a room filled with sunshine. She blinked a couple of times, stretching languidly, feeling incredibly relaxed and calm.
Where was she, she wondered, drowsily taking in her surroundings. The spare bedroom? What was she doing in here?
When it suddenly came flooding back – her encounter with the dark menacing stranger – she sat up with a jolt, eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights. She swept her gaze around the room in a panic.
Where was he? Was he still here? Just how long had she been sleeping?
She scrambled off the bed and made for the door but stopped with a start in the middle of the room.
What on earth...?
As she stared in astonishment at the tiny green butterfly flitting just inside the doorframe, she knew instantly that it wasn't of this world. Mainly because she could virtually see straight through it.
It had been created by magic. That was plain to see.
And she knew exactly whose magic.
She couldn't help but smile as she reached out her hand, delighted when the apparition fluttered closer. She felt a little burst of warmth ignite inside her, a childlike excitement, that she hadn't felt in such a long time.
She was witnessing real magic.
But remembering the man – Linden? (if that was his real name, and she seriously had her doubts) – brought her promptly back to earth.
While part of her hoped he was long gone, she knew she would be disappointed if he was. He intrigued her as much as he frightened her. And since healing her and not taking advantage of her very vulnerable state when he so easily could have, that fear had become thankfully diluted.
When the butterfly flew back out of the room she followed it, stepping tentatively out onto the landing. She peeked into the other two bedrooms and the bathroom but they were all empty.
She returned back to the landing and peered warily down the stairs. The butterfly was already half way down them and she noticed another two flapping against the glass of front door.
Creeping down the stairs she hesitated at the bottom, took a subtle breath to gather her courage, and entered the living room.
She was more than a little taken aback by the scene that greeted her. Of all the things she had envisaged she wasn't expecting this. If she had to be totally honest, she was pleasantly surprised. And rather relieved by the normality of it.
The man sat, cross legged, upon the sofa, hunched over a book. He was half buried in cushions and his long black hair hid all but the tip of his nose. He appeared so engrossed in whatever he was reading that he made no reaction whatsoever to her sudden appearance.
Her eyes flicked across to the rug where the strange book had lain. When she saw that it was gone she immediately put two and two together.
"How do you feel?"
His voice made her jump. So he had noted her presence. But he didn't lift his gaze from the page he was reading.
She swallowed, wondering whether she should even answer. His words were dripping with innuendo. She didn't have any complaints about what he had done to her, physically she felt great. It was as if she hadn't been flung half way across a room at all. But it was a bit disconcerting. Especially the way his magic had made her feel.
"I'm fine," she returned quickly, her embarrassment making her defensive. "You?"
He finally turned to face her, eyes blazing with mischief. "Never better," he teased.
She noticed several more butterflies flitting around the living room and gestured to them, puzzled.
"Why all the butterflies?"
"The cat was annoying me."
She frowned. "Sash isn't annoying."
"Says the mistress he has, no doubt, wrapped around his little finger."
"Paw. Cats don't have fingers."
He smirked, continuing to watch her, but when her curious gaze dropped to the book in his hands his smile promptly vanished.
Closing it with care he held it aloft, eyes narrowed. "And when, pray, were you going to tell me about this?"
"I was going to..." April gave him an equally hard stare. "Only you died on me."
She was satisfied to see him look a little sheepish. "Ah."
Yes, April though. Ah. That shut you up, smug git.
But the book was still very much on her mind and she bit down upon her lip as she remembered the strange aura that had surrounded it.
"Is it...a book of magic...?"
Loki searched her face in alarm. "You did not touch it?"
"No! No, of course not...but I sensed something when I got close to it."
He regarded her suspiciously. "Like what?"
"Something...dangerous."
He cocked his head, a hint of respect slipping into his eyes. "Your senses were correct. This is, indeed, a very dangerous book."
"So why do you have it?"
His mouth tightened into a thin line. "That is not your concern."
April feared the implications behind his evasiveness. She squared her shoulders. "While you're in my house, under my roof, it is my concern."
Loki's eyebrow twitched in amusement. "Is that so?"
Their eyes locked, and though April felt a lot less threatened by him now, she still couldn't help feeling intimidated by the confrontation. He had almost convinced her that he was no psychopath, but she wasn't stupid enough to completely drop her guard.
"Yes," she finally insisted, trying to bolster her intent with a firm, steady tone.
His smirk was back and he actually looked as if he approved her daring. He opened his mouth to speak again but was silenced when a small cloud of butterflies swept into the living room, swiftly pursued by the cat.
"More of them?" April exclaimed, relieved by the distraction.
"They multiply when touched," he revealed nonchalantly.
The butterflies hummed around her, almost like a swarm of bees, but quickly retraced their flightpath back towards the kitchen again. Sasha, high on the thrill of the chase, ignored his mistress completely.
April was equally mesmerised and hurried for the kitchen, but stopped with a gasp in the doorway.
"Oh...my...god."
She let out a little laugh, she couldn't help it. She had never seen anything like it.
The kitchen was not only filled with golden sunshine and rainbows from the crystal hanging in the window, but literally hundreds more of the butterflies. They were flitting around the cupboards, dancing along the worktops, fluttering above the central pine table. They were everywhere. But rather than seeming oppressive or invasive, their presence was simply enchanting.
April was still grinning when Loki suddenly stepped beside her. "Blame the cat," he huffed, feigning displeasure. "There were only six at the start."
She laughed again and walked into the room, unable to resist reaching out her hands in wonder. As soon as she touched a butterfly it popped like a bubble, green and sparkling, and one became two. Sasha mewed his excitement as he swatted two at once, and four materialised from a larger burst of incandescent light.
Though she tried to remain composed, April felt tears pricking at her eyes as the butterflies surrounded her, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. It was so beautiful...so magical. She felt as if she had stepped into a dream.
"You are as bad as the cat," she heard from behind her but it was followed by a chuckle.
April glanced back to see Loki leaning against the doorframe, arms folded casually, that trademark smirk back upon his face. He looked lighter somehow. Less haunted than before. And certainly less menacing. She felt bad thinking it, but dying had certainly improved him.
"It's...it's just so...unbelievable."
He rolled his eyes. "Mortals are so easily impressed. This is nothing. I could conjure these when I was a mere child."
Now April did like the implications behind those words.
"Would you show me something else?"
His gaze darkened manipulatively. "That depends."
"On what?" Warning bells sounded in her head.
"On whether you allow me to remain under your roof or not."
April gaped at him, the butterflies forgotten. "What do you mean?"
He moved out from the doorframe, approaching her stealthily, almost catlike himself. April backed away until she bumped into the table. He loomed over her, staring down into her eyes. "I am stuck on Midgard for the time being. I do not wish to draw attention to myself or integrate with the rest of the local populous if I can help it. I also need isolation to study the book."
April's heart began to pound in her chest. "You're asking me for...refuge?"
"Of sorts."
His closeness still unnerved her. She was quite happy to initiate familiarity on her own terms, but didn't like people invading her personal space without permission. "And what if I refuse?"
"I will be very disappointed."
A shiver ran down her spine. It didn't take long for the menace to return. "But...you will still leave anyway?"
He frowned but reluctantly conceded. "Yes."
She took a deep breath, fighting the urge to shove him away. Glancing across at the butterflies, she heard his seductive words in her head.
This is nothing.
"Can I think about it?"
His eyes softened hopefully. "Of course."
They watched each other in strained silence for several long moments, until she finally blurted: "Have you had anything to eat yet?"
He seemed a little thrown by the sudden change of topic. "I have not."
She quickly moved away from him, gesturing to the table. "Then sit."
He glared at her and April guessed he was usually the one giving orders, not taking them.
After a slight hesitation he swept out his hands and all of the butterflies disappeared.
"Oh!" April objected, disappointed. "You didn't have to make them all go away."
Loki shrugged. "Let me stay and my magic is at your disposal."
April felt that familiar ache inside. There was only one thing she really wanted and she knew his magic couldn't do that. Nothing, no one, could resurrect the dead.
As if reading her mind he added, "Within reason, of course."
She looked at him sharply and was taken aback by the sympathy in his eyes.
She forced a smile. "Omelette ok?"
"Omelette?"
"Cooked eggs."
He nodded resignedly, pulling out the nearest chair from the table. Sitting down he lounged back in it, folding his arms. "Eggs will suffice."
Suffice? she thought in irritation. Bloody cheek. "They'll have to," she snapped. "They're about the only thing I've got in the fridge until I go to the supermarket."
He watched her intently, a complacent look upon his face. "You really are as fiery as that hair," he grinned.
"If you don't like it you're welcome to leave. You know where the door is."
"Oh, on the contrary. I like it."
April wanted to return some equally witty retort, but words eluded her. Feeling the heat flood in to her cheeks, she quickly turned towards the fridge to get the eggs.
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