Weakness | Loki [Book One]

Chapter Three

I ended up spending most of my days in the library down the street. There were few people there, and I realized that I didn't know much. I read about places I would most likely never visit, both real and unreal. I read about the old legends and myths where the gods fought for eternity. I read about the history of the world and how humans had adapted to every situation that came their way. I read every book that I could get my hands on.

I'd picked up on languages quite quickly in my few weeks, so when a foreign couple came into the library, I was able to help translate for the librarian. That earned me a job. I knew so much about the library already that my job consisted of sitting in a chair by the door and helping everyone that came in. The job didn't pay as well as I'd hoped, but I'd take what I could get.

One day, Loki, as it had said on the note, visited the library. Apparently, he was frequent guest, so the librarian greeted him before he noticed me.

"Loki! Good to see you." 

"Likewise." He set down the stack of books he'd carried in. They were speaking about some trivial matter or another when Loki asked about a certain book.

"I don't think we have a book by that title," the old lady said. "even if we did, I don't know where--"

"Section 8, aisle 4, far left on the top shelf," I said, not looking up from my book.

"Thank you," he said, walking in that direction.

"How did you know that?" the librarian asked.

"Dunno." I closed my book. I hadn't been reading it for an hour yet, but I had already completed it. I walked through the rows to the section I was currently reading my way through. I'd just picked my dozen books to take home when I heard a new customers voice, although I recognized it nonetheless.

"Can I help you with anything?" the librarian had asked. 

"No. I know what I'm looking for."

 My eyes widened as I patted my pockets down for the slip of paper with Loki's number on it. Once I'd found it, I prayed to the gods that he had his phone on him as I texted him.

Loki, watch your back. It's the guy from the coffee shop.

No response.

Loki. I'm serious. 

I heard the faint sound of a phone vibrating in someone's pocket. A few seconds later, a muffled thud followed, and I only hoped that it wasn't Loki's.

Thanks, he texted back. 

By the time he made his way back to the front of the library, I was already gone, heading back to Christine's house, where I sat down in my room with a cup of tea and a new book. 

I had just closed the third book when Christine knocked on my door. When I didn't respond, she let herself in.

"Oh, my goodness!" she said when she caught sight of the dark circles under my eyes. "When was the last time you slept? Or ate?"

I shrugged, opening another book.

"Come on, you need to go downstairs. There's someone waiting for you." Without waiting for a response, she turned the lights off and dragged me by my elbow down the stairs.

"Is your evening open?" she asked Loki, who was waiting downstairs.

"Yes," he replied, somewhat confused at her manner.

"Take this girl out to dinner," she said. "She hasn't eaten in who knows how long." She nearly pushed us out the door and shut the door behind us. 

I stood out in the evening air, the chill slowly seeping through to my bones

"I don't think I ever caught your name," Loki said.

I realized I hadn't even come up with a name for myself yet. 

"Delta," I said finally. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"I was thinking we could go to a cafe a few blocks from here. There's a bookstore next door if you wanted to visit that after." 

"Sure." We walked through the busy streets to the cafe. New York City had a constant smell of smoke and gasoline that many people hated, but I loved it. I thought it added an element of humanity to a city filled with superhumans, aliens, and technology. 

"Are you okay?" Loki asked.

"What? Yeah, definitely," I assured him.

"You don't look like it. Christine told me you haven't slept in days and you haven't been eating much, as far as she knows."

"I'm fine."

We walked in silence for a few minutes until Loki muttered something so quietly under his breath that I almost didn't hear it. 

"There's a man following us."

"You go ahead," I said. "He's after me."

"No."

"If you die, that's not on me." I knew it sounded harsh, but he wasn't my responsibility.

"I think you'll find I'm rather hard to kill." We turned to the man, who now had his hand in the pocket of his jacket, where an indentation of a gun could be seen. 

"D-84, come with me," he said.

"D-84?" Loki repeated in confusion.

"Never," I said, sliding to the floor and tripping the man. He flipped and landed, but a knife stuck into his back. As he fell, I saw another buried in his chest. I picked up mine, wiped the blood off on the dead man's shirt, and handed Loki his after doing the same. 

"You aren't going to question a man you just met having a knife in their back pocket?" Loki asked.

"Doesn't everyone?"

"No. That's not normal."

"Really?" I was genuinely confused.

"Yes." We walked into the cafe where I was forced to order something to eat.

"What's the real story?" Loki asked once we'd sat down.

"Hmm?" I was focused on the sandwich in front of me.

"A man follows you, calls you by a number, and attempts to kill you. You think it's normal for people to carry knives and you spend almost all of your time with your nose in a book. Your eyes are always darting around, you walk quickly to get from place to place, and you can fight better than most people I know. Yet you say you are normal."

Wow. I didn't know that he had observed that much about me. "There isn't really a story to tell. And it requires a long explanation."

"We've got time," Loki said, getting more comfortable in his chair. 

"Okay. So, do you know what Hydra is?"

"An originally-Nazi agency that was destroyed by S.H.I.E.L.D. years ago."

"Well, that's what everyone believed," I said. "They've had a few projects running in the past few years, mainly super soldier experiments based on the same formula that created Captain America. Occasionally, they'll send an assassin or group of assassins to take out a bad threat, leaving no trace behind."

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"I'm one of those experiments."