Enamoured with a Mortal

Chapter Twelve

I stumbled forward as if I could stop her. As if my seiðr could push through the stupid glass Stark invented. I desperately wanted it to. Wished I could have made it there. Truthfully I cared little for the guard on the floor, didn't know their name nor did it matter to me if they lived or died. But it should have to her. It always did to her. Her stupid hero complex, the care she had for others always seemed endless. I always saw her in conversations with people I barely recognised, she asked after their families, their hobbies, she knew most of the guards. Granted, a large part of that was because of the time she spent in the guard's quarters due to Miller, and while they weren't her friends she cared. If it wasn't a new guard she would have known them in some way. Even if it was a new one, she would have made an effort. The sound of me calling out her name was lost behind the pop of the gun and the deafening scream of the guard knelt before her. It was almost impressive how perfectly on target she had been without her eyes leaving mine, without her smile ever faltering even as the splatter of blood hit her cheek ever so slightly. Anderson, Stark had referred to them as, never made a sound. Just slumped to the floor immediately. The other guard in the cell went hysterical, their sobs much louder as they began to beg for their life. Combat doesn't prepare you for a life and death situation. Centuries of fighting never stopped the fear I felt as I fell from the Bifrost.

She rolled her eyes at his frantic behaviour. Gripping his hair with her free hand and yanking it back, causing a painful yelp before the gun was pressed just under the side of his jaw.

"Would you shut up? I did you a favour you know." With the leverage she had, she forced the agent to look at the dead body, causing him to buckled as he was forced off balance, falling into the blood that began to pool under Anderson's head. "You told them not to open the cell remember? Said I wasn't trustworthy. Did they listen? No!" She pulled on his hair again, forcing him back to his knees in front of her before shaking the hair that had been pulled out off her hand. "Now you have one less weak point. Now you don't have someone stupid watching your back." She smiled bright and wide again, running her finger through the blood on his face and I finally forced myself to look away. Closing my eyes didn't help, the shock and disgust of Stark and Thor's thoughts showcasing it just as loud in my mind. "Honestly no wonder you are all so weak. Should I do them a favour and remove you too?" Toying with him, dangling his life in front of him as if she wanted him to prove his worth to her. She smeared the blood in his face further, pressed the gun to his face so harshly I wouldn't be surprised if a bruise formed there. I hoped the only thing he would have to worry over was a bruise.

Have you felt her desire to kill for nothing but the thrill? She was right. Gods damn it she was always fucking right. I despised this. A reflection of a being I could so easily have become. One I had been. A memory of Germany stirred into me. Beyond the torture I had faced by the Other, beyond the hum of the sceptre that kept those insecurities fresh and present in my mind, I had enjoyed the way they had screamed as I took that man's eye. The power it gave, the control I felt. It swirled uncomfortably in my gut, but I imagined this is what it would have looked like. The amusement she took in her actions, how true her smile and laughter was, it was a reflection of the monster I let myself be.

"Tell me Stark, what is this one's name?" I forced myself to look back, no longer letting myself run, and feeling the hope drain from me.

"Put the gun down, Vasilyev." Stark's hope had left him too. I wasn't sure there was a way of getting the other agent out alive. She enjoyed it too much, likely felt that wave of power and control that so easily elated a person.

"What name will you write on the condolence card to his spouse?" The guard had screwed his eyes close, muttering what seemed like a prayer under his breath as he fiddled with the golden ring that sat on his finger. Dangerous perception, I'd barely noticed and I had never once seen her look at him in any meaningful way.