Kidnapped|Book 4|A novel in the Blue Moon series| An Avengers fan fiction series|

43- End of the Dream

As soon as I think that, I know that I'm wrong. Because the place where my heart should be is just a dull beating, and a pit in my stomach only adds to it. I know what I'm doing, because I've seen Loki do it before: I'm hiding my feelings, and letting anger bubble through me, flattening all other emotion.

It makes me feel stronger, but it makes my heart feel weaker.

I pull back my hair in a tiny bun at the top of my head. My hair has grown, not ridiculously, but faster than I had been expecting it. Now, it's nearly to my shoulders, although it's still chopped and messy. Angelique had guessed this was because of my Asgardian blood- it helps rejuvenate everything about me quicker than humans.

At that moment, a sudden shock of a realization goes through me. I'm not human. Like Videl, like Loki, like Thor, like the Imeldi, I'm no longer human. It makes me feel alien. I guess technically, I am one.

Tilting my head back, I look at the square. People are milling around, and I fully expect at any time to see Angelique and Videl appear, looking for me. I'm probably freaking them out right now, running away. I'm sorry. I'm probably freaking Angelique out, not Videl. Videl's probably doing some stupid Velah happy dance.

Quickly tired of thinking about thisI look back, to the other end of the tunnel. Beyond the bridge is a small garden, with more assorted buildings, these ones mostly shops, all stucco and tan, with palm trees swinging, and red barrel roofs. There's some graffiti on the building closest to me, but it's in Spanish, and I'm not that great at Spanish, or any language. Or school. Or life.

Trying to block my depressing thoughts away, I begin watching the people coming in and out of the shops, trying to figure out something for my eyes to do besides stare at the ceiling or the ground. Some people, mostly tanned natives, carry wicker baskets and wear either colorful clothing faded t-shirts. Others, mostly sunburned tourists, carry beach bags and wear swimsuits or shorts.

At that moment, I see him.

He's coming out of a shop selling small, glass-blown antiques, his head up and alert. I notice him mostly because he's wearing all black, and long pants and a plain black shirt that would look ordinary had it not been my father wearing it. His hair is longer now, past his shoulders, and extremely messy.

A pang of sadness mixes with my more strong pang of terror. He's heading in my direction, in the crowd of people, and there's nowhere to hide in the tunnel.

I don't have a choice. I dive down behind the crates just as he enters the tunnel. I suck in a breath, my heart hammering in my throat. Loki is taller than most of the people around him, and out through the wooden slats of the crate, I can't keep my eyes off of him, feeling sickening dread as he walks towards me...He's going to find me, and kill me at any second...I don't have my dagger...

He walks right past me, into the square on my left, still looking around. I think I might faint from relief.

But I don't have time to faint, and I know it. I have to somehow get to the hotel to get my stuff, or at least get to Videl and Angelique. I realize that this is why Loki probably hadn't been looking behind old crates for me- he's expecting to find three people, not one person hiding behind overripe fruit. That's the only reason I can think of him bypassing a perfectly good nook for a fourteen year old girl to tuck into.

Unless Neidra has affected his brain, and he's not thinking straight.

I push the thought out of my head. I can't think about what or how Loki is thinking. I need to get out of Costa Rica alive.

I wait until Loki walks inside the butcher's shop at the far corner of the square. Then, I jump up, running to the other side of the square, where the market is.