Monday, April 11, 2016

The Nosferatu Adventures s10 p8

The Nosferatu Adventures
page 256, chapter 256

Out of Time

The god rolled on his shoulder backwards, his feet landing firmly on the ground, digging in. Hunched over on one knee, his fingers spread out in front of him, the other elbow tight to his side, he charged. Slamming his shoulder into his opponent he heard the crash more than felt it.

Waking with a start, Loki groaned. The sun was too bright and his eyes hurt. He silently cursed the whole white on glass idea as he rolled over onto his back, the bedsheets falling less than gracefully from his naked body. It was rare for him to actually dream and when he did, it was always an omen. He opened the bedroom door just a centimeter, the scent of coffee filling the air.  He swore silently as he nearly tripped over the still sleeping hellhound, who's tiny body was curled up pressed against his bedroom door. After the realization the day before, that the pup was missing, Loki had to go out looking for him. He was none too happy to learn that Bacchus not only had the creature, but had brought Dagan to this reality. A tidbit he was not yet willing to share with our heroine.  Yawning, the dark haired god began to make his way to the shower, noticing our heroine's door was not closed all the way. Smirking to himself, Loki licked his lips as he let his eyes flash from their human brown to the amber-grey of the wolf then to a pure gold. Placing a strong hand on the doorknob, he leaned into the bedroom just enough to catch her eye.

"The puppy needs to be walked. And given a name still." he remarked, his voice never once showing any hint of emotion. Our heroine grunted as she continued to shuffle through the pile of clothes she'd bought. Loki's eyebrows knitted together. "What are you up to?" he asked opening the door farther stepping into the room. Scratching at his shoulder, the dark haired god leaned around our heroine, first pointing to the nearest dress before picking up the edge of it, letting it fall back onto the bed. He brushed against her hip, completely forgetting for a second he was naked. "Since when do you need these? You're a shapeshifter, you think it and then magick mist it."

"Since I started sleeping with a human." She turned to face him. "That your true eyes?" she asked staring at him. Loki's face seemed to relax before furrowing his eyebrows again. Squaring his jaw he made a noise indicating that it wasn't. The banshee was beside the closet hanging the outfits before the god could think. Clearly, the conversation was over as far as our heroine was concerned. Letting out a short huff, that he was certain she didn't hear, Loki continued on to the shower.

He let the water ripple over him as he thought about what just happened. She didn't make any comments to the fact he was naked. Which wasn't like her. The steam rose as his own anger did. How dare she! Loki thought to himself. Normally, a situation like that would have had our heroine not only blushing wildly, but have her stumbling and stammering as she tried to avoid obviously staring. He'd caught her practically drooling over him in the past. And now, nothing?  He was a god, people feared him, they desired him, they respected and loved him. What they didn't do was ignore him when he was standing beside them naked! The steam became a dense fog as his emotions continued to rise. He was going to rip Arthur's beating heart out and eat it.

Storming back into her bedroom a moment later, water droplets still clinging to his warm skin, he growled. Wrapping his one hand around the upper part of her arm, he pulled her tight against him, his other hand at her throat. Sniffing from the edge of her collarbone up to her ear, craning her chin he found nothing.  Our heroine's heartbeat should have been rapid, her blood should have been rushing in her veins from fear. But instead, she was calm. Too calm. Dropping his hand from her neck, he spun her around to look at her, his other hand still gripping her arm. He was about to say something, when he stopped. Watching as she tilted her head to the side, her eyebrows knitting together. Letting go of her completely, he followed her gaze. There on his shoulder was a tear in his flesh, a large bone plate starting to stick out.  Our heroine reached over with her delicate fingers running the tips over it. In his anger, Loki didn't even feel himself beginning to shapeshift.  It was gone, his body once again smooth in it's human form leaving our heroine's hand hovering a few centimeters over his shoulder. The jealousy he'd just been battling with subsided.  Reaching up he grabbed her wrist in his hand, bringing it to his mouth.
Biting down, he felt the pop as his fangs broke the skin. The memory that flooded his mind as the warmth curled around his tongue, was of the night back in 1462 in Vlad's bedroom. The night he'd threatened and informed her that her task was only starting. That Damen was only the first werewolf she'd give birth to for him. She'd hated him then. The very core of her, he'd tasted it in her blood that night, the raw bitterness it had created. But now, as the memory flowed from our heroine to the god, it was just that. A memory. Silent in itself, tasteless to him. She'd forgiven him. Something Loki hadn't been expecting. 
His eyes once again their human brown, he let out a deep sigh looking around the room. It was a disaster. She lived like a teenager with her books and coffee cups piled on every surface.  He hadn't yet let go of her wrist, his thumb mindlessly working in tiny circles on the inside of it, his bite already healed. His other hand suddenly at the back of her neck, he pressed his forehead to hers closing his eyes, just breathing the moment in. He was tired of playing hard to get, of denying what she had come to mean to him.

It only took him ten minutes to express what he'd been holding back for over a decade.

Tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your up story. Every god has their weakness.)

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