Fic: Run for the Light, part two

[walktheboat]

When Loki was fourteen, Thor found him trying to hunt down a poltergeist on his own.

“Have you lost your mind?” Thor said. It was probably a valid question, considering he’d found Loki sitting in a circle of salt, cradling a sawed off shotgun in one hand and a book on exorcisms in the other.

Loki glanced down at himself and felt a flush creep into his face.

“On second thought,” Thor said, “don’t answer that. Answer this instead: what the hell are you doing in Old Man Volstagg’s house?”

Every neighborhood had a creepy old house that kids would tell stories about. In this particular neighborhood, Old Man Volstagg (deceased) was often the subject of juvenile gossip. He was supposedly a murderer, a wizard, or an ex-KGB agent depending on who was telling the story. These days, the house remained empty-except for the nights the police found teenagers inside, drinking cheap beer and daring one another to go into the basement.

“This place is haunted,” Loki said defensively.

Thor blinked. He, too, had heard all the stories about this house. “Don’t tell me you actually believe all that crap. This place is about as haunted as our refrigerator.”

They stood in the basement. It was the place where Old Man Volstagg would supposedly dismember his victims, practice witchcraft, or talk to his comrades. While the description of his activities varied, the location was always the same. Bricks lined the dirt walls, various shelves held parts of machinery, and cobwebs lined the ceiling. It smelled of earth and decay.

“Of course I don’t believe those stories,” Loki said quickly. “But there are other signs.”

Thor gestured for Loki to continue.

Loki grimaced. “…All right, so there aren’t other signs. But if there was a poltergeist anywhere in this town, it would be here.” A thought made him break off. He narrowed his eyes. “Wait, how did you know I was here?”

This time it was Thor who flushed. “I was walking home from school.”

“Your school is in the opposite direction.”

“All right. I followed you.”

“What? Why?”

“You’ve been acting all squirrelly lately. Thought you might have a girlfriend or something.”

“So you thought I’d bring a date to a dead murderer’s house?”

Thor blinked. “I thought Volstagg was supposed to be KGB.”

Loki let the book fall from his hand and scrambled to his feet. “You honestly think this place is my idea of a romantic getaway?”

“How should I know? It’d be a saner reason for going to Old Man Volstagg’s house!”

Loki couldn’t really argue with that so he didn’t.

“Come on,” Thor said, exasperated. “Out with it! Or is this some weird kinky thing?”

Loki found himself lashing out, a mixture of bitterness and embarrassment driving his words. “Will you shut up? You wouldn’t get it.” He shoved the shotgun and book into his backpack, swung it over his shoulder and stalked to the stairs. Thor didn’t catch up to him until he’d reached the first floor. The house’s kitchen looked as sad as the rest of the place. The linoleum was scratched and stained with dirt; the counters were home to a few mousetraps and empty bottles of beer; there was a gaping hole between the wall and the counter, where the refrigerator should have been.

A hand descended on Loki’s shoulder and he found himself being forcibly turned around. Loki saw his own anger reflected on Thor’s face, although his older brother’s probably stemmed from confusion. “Would you stop being an idiot and talk to me? Talk is what you’re good at, right?”

Loki threw up an arm and shoved Thor as hard as he could. Caught off guard, Thor’s back hit the counter and he had to grab its edge to remain upright. He gaped at Loki, apparently too surprised for his usual hot temper to manifest.

“This is what I mean!” Loki snarled. His own temper, usually chilly and well hidden, rose to the surface. “None of you get it! You’re all natural hunters-you, Dad, Mom. It’s what you do. You never have to work at it. Me? I can’t swing an axe or use a crossbow without shattering a neighbor’s porch light.”

Thor’s mouth twitched. “That was only once,” he said.

“So not the point.”

Thor straightened so that he no longer leaned against the counter for support. “Then what is the point, Loki?”

“I’m-not-like-you. Like you said, I’m good at talking. I’m smart. I can memorize anything you give me. But I can’t pick up a mace and take off some werewolf’s head, and really, that’s all that matters in this family.” Loki was breathing hard, and he felt like he’d just run a mile. His heart throbbed in his chest. He hadn’t realized how long these words had been building up, how desperately he’d needed to say them aloud. Even if it hurt pointing out his own deficiencies, it was better than letting them rot his insides.

“You’re good at hunting,” Loki said. He kept his eyes on the ceiling cobwebs. “More than good. Dad’s not exactly subtle about the fact he wants you to carry on the family business. Me-not so much.”

Thor sounded incredulous. “What? Dad loves you.”

“Yeah.” But Loki didn’t say it with any conviction. Dad had always held himself a little apart from Loki, and sometimes Loki was sure it was because he wasn’t as good a hunter as Thor. Dad was always thinking two steps in advance-and Thor was the future of the family business. It made sense that Dad would focus on Thor. Simply put, Thor had a gift. He was one of the best fighters Loki had ever seen. If the whole hunting thing didn’t work out, Thor would make a hell of a mercenary.

“So you wanted to exorcise a poltergeist to prove you’re a good hunter?” Thor said.

Loki swallowed. His throat felt tight and dry. “I just wanted to be your equal.”
() () ()

“Are you researching the trickster?”

“…Yes.”

“You’re playing Minesweeper again, aren’t you?”

“…No.”

“Thor, you’re a horrible liar.” Loki glances over his own computer screen. His older brother wears an innocent expression… which is slightly ruined by the way his mouth fights against a smile. “We’re going up against a god, and you’re playing computer games.”

“Not a god, a trickster.”

Loki’s fingers blur over the keyboard. He is currently on his second academic database. Technically, he is not a university student, but getting to their online resources only requires a simple hack. And no one can trace him from a public computer in a library. He says, “Really, it’s practically the same thing.”

He has browsed through pages and pages of mythology and come across several tricksters. Anansi, Puck, Lillith, Veles. There are reports of interactions between these tricksters and humans, and in most cases it is the humans who come away the worse for wear. There are some pretty gruesome accounts in the database; humans dead, disfigured, cursed… or worse. And Loki cannot shake the feeling that they will fare no better in a straight fight with a trickster. They are just men, after all. Well, mostly.

“Thor,” Loki says quietly. The feeling of being in public presses down on him, making him speak in low tones. They are surrounded by bookshelves and a few students, but the library is mostly deserted. Thor looks up from his game of Minesweeper, alerted by the way Loki’s voice drops.

“What?” he says, already looking for an outside threat.

Loki shakes his head. “It’s just,” he hesitates for a beat, “I’m not so sure about this.”

“Sure about what?”

“This trickster is…” Loki searches for a word that will make Thor understand. ‘Dangerous’ will only make Thor excited. ‘Deadly’ even more so. Thor has yet to comprehend ‘bad odds’ or ‘outnumbered’ or ‘retreat’. When it comes to hunting, Thor’s vocabulary is limited to one word: ‘victory’.

“…Bad news,” Loki finishes. It’s the only thing he can think of.

Thor raises one eyebrow, unimpressed. “Are you saying we just leave? Back away while this thing goes on killing people?”

“I’m not saying that,” Loki says quickly. He knows better. “But, there’s only so much we can do under these circumstances.”

Thor leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking intently at Loki. “You have a plan.” It’s not a question. “One you think I won’t like.” Again, not a question. Thor isn’t an idiot. He has a knack for interpreting emotions and untangling intentions. His straightforward manner cuts through everything. They are a good team, Loki knows. With his intellect, quick wits and computer skills, and Thor’s raw humanity, cheer, and strength, they’ve managed to conquer every threat they’ve come across.

So far, anyway.

“A human cannot beat a trickster,” Loki says.

Thor waits for Loki to continue.

Loki looks down at his keyboard. “A human,” he places more emphasis on the second word, “cannot beat a trickster.”

This time Thor understands. Emotions flash through his eyes so quickly that Loki almost misses them-comprehension, panic, anger. “No,” Thor says. His voice rings out, breaking the silence of the library. Loki gestures at him to be quieter. “No,” Thor says. His voice is soft, but it carries more weight this time. “No way in hell.” His jaw works and it looks like all the words he wants to say are fighting it out in the back of his throat. What makes it out is, “If you-if you’re even thinking about that, I’m knocking you on your ass and leaving you handcuffed, tied up, and gagged in the motel room.”

Of course, it is at this moment that the librarian chooses to investigate the noise. All she probably hears is Thor’s last sentence.

Loki barely manages to grab his journal before they are unceremoniously kicked out of the library.
() () ()

When Loki was sixteen, he killed his first monster.

A small town in Ohio had a growing list of missing persons. All were teenagers, all on their way home from parties or meetings with friends. They would leave the group, ready to go home, but their parents would never see them again. A few bodies had turned up. Animal attacks were the official cause of death.

Dad, who was busy researching kitsunes, informed Thor that it was probably a mundane matter and under no circumstances was he to go to Ohio.

So, of course, the next day Loki found himself riding shotgun while Thor drove to Ohio.

“Dad’s going to be so pissed when we get back,” Loki pointed out.

Thor’s fingers tapped out a cheery rhythm on the steering wheel. He shrugged one shoulder. “Dad’s being an idiot. There’s no way this is just some serial killer. And I’m eighteen. What’s he gonna do-ground me?”

“Kick you out.”

Thor appeared unconcerned. “He’s being old and idiotic. If we actively hunted instead of just sitting around, waiting for bodies to pop up, supernatural shit would be less likely to attack humans. It’s easy to see why they simply go after us. We look weak.”

Once the brothers arrived in Nowhere, Ohio, (Thor nicknamed the town) they began investigating.

“You go to the morgue,” Thor told Loki. “I’m going to talk to the locals.” He was already eying a group of young women-probably enrolled in the local community college-eagerly.

Loki tried to muster up a glare. “This is your hunt. Why can’t you do research yourself?”

“Because,” Thor said, beaming, “this is my hunt. And I’m delegating.”

In the end, it took the two of them only a day to figure out exactly what was going on. “Vampires,” Thor said.

The two of them were driving back to the closest motel. Night had fallen and Thor had already booked them into the cheapest place he could find. Like most of the area, this place was the epitome of the backwoods. The narrow road wound through a forest, and even the road signs looked dour and old. Thor didn’t seem to notice. “Classic signs of vampires-missing people, supposed animal attacks, all at night-“

“Also,” Loki said dryly, “there’s that exsanguinated corpse in the morgue.”

Thor laughed. “Yeah, that too.”

They were riding the high of their first solo hunt; Thor’s enthusiasm was contagious and even Loki found himself excited about the prospect of going vampire hunting. He spread out a map of the area on his knees. He’d already marked where each of the victims had been taken, searching for a pattern. “I think I’ve found something else,” Loki said. He traced a line between two of the furthest points he’d marked. “All of the teens were taken from country roads. And in the middle of all of these roads is… a campground? I think that’s what it is.”

Thor frowned. “Vampires go camping?”

“If the tents or cabins are thick enough to block out sunlight, I’d say yes. It’d be a perfect cover for a bunch of strangers to gather without drawing attention to themselves. Also, it’s far enough from any buildings or houses,” Loki grimaced, “so that no one could hear screaming.”

“Now that’s disturbing.”

Loki looked up from his map. He turned back to Thor, to ask how far to their motel, when he saw it.

A figure stood directly in the middle of the road.

Thor swore and slammed on the breaks. Loki flew forward, his seat belt catching him and throwing him back into his seat as the car screeched to a halt. His head clipped the window and lights flashed behind his eyes. The world spun around once, twice, and then the car stopped moving. Loki blinked, startled back to reality by a sudden stinging above his right eye. He wiped at it and saw blood.

“What the fuck,” Thor said under his breath.

The figure still stood there. From the illumination the headlights provided, Loki could see the figure was male. He stood in a relaxed posture, hands shoved in his pockets, and head tilted to one side. He was only a few feet away; if Thor had been any slower in slamming the car to a halt, they’d have hit him. The smell of burnt rubber permeated the car.

“Thor,” Loki said.

The figure, a dark silhouette in the car’s headlights, took one step forward. A cold dread uncoiled somewhere behind Loki’s stomach, sending ice up and down his spine. He’d heard of this. Vampires playing chicken with cars, banking on the humans to react like normal humans-to stop. To not hit the person in the road. To be, well, human.

Thor seemed to realize this at the same time Loki did.

“Well,” Thor said, in a tight voice, “I’d say it’s definitely vampires.” He reached behind his seat for the machete he always kept there.

“You think?” Loki said.

That was when a second vampire appeared out of nowhere, drew its arm back, and punched out Thor’s window.

Thor whirled, but there wasn’t enough room in the car to ready a proper swing with the machete. The vampire’s hand seized Thor’s collar and with inhuman strength, simply dragged him through the broken window. Loki was already moving, kicking his own door open and starting around the car to help Thor. Another dark figure approached the car from the other direction and Loki froze. He saw this one was female, thin with blond hair tied back and a face that would have been pretty, if her teeth hadn’t resembled that of a shark.

Loki’s gaze snapped back and forth, trying to gauge numbers and odds. How many were there? The one in the road-the bait-and the one who was trying and failing to take down Thor, and the one currently gazing at the cut above Loki’s eyebrow. Three vampires. Too small a group for a whole nest. A hunting party then. They were out to bring back food for the others. Food like Thor and Loki. Just another two young humans, caught off guard.

Thor and Loki weren’t prepared for this.

Even so, Thor was more than a match for his captor. Without hesitation, he slammed his own skull backwards into the vampire’s face, crushing its nose. It released him with a snarl. Thor, even has he’d been dragged through the broken window, had managed to hold onto the machete. He swung out with it and suddenly the vampire was down, clutching its neck. Blood-stolen human blood-leaked between its pale fingers. It hadn’t been beheaded, but the wound was deep, probably to the bone. The vampire flailed wildly, trying to scramble away from Thor.

The female vampire shifted its stance, bending its legs and beginning a slow, creeping step toward Loki. It was the way predators approached prey-ready, watchful, powerful.

Loki might not have been the hunter Thor was, but he’d grown up in the same family and had the same training. He dove for the gun kept in the car’s glove compartment. Bullets wouldn’t kill a vampire, but they’d be one hell of an annoyance.

The few seconds it took for Loki to get the weapon were all the vampire needed. As his fingers closed around the gun’s barrel, she was on top of him. Her knees drove into his gut and he slammed into the car, pinned with his back across both the passenger and driver’s seats. He tried to bring the gun up, but it hit the steering wheel and tumbled from his grip, falling under the seat. Her cold hands scrabbled at his throat and face.

He felt her nails tear at him. The car’s horn suddenly blared; she must have accidentally hit the steering wheel as she tried to get at him.
There simply wasn’t enough room in the car to fight. He couldn’t get his legs up to kick her, and the best he managed was a jab to her cheekbone. It was enough to unsettle her, but not to completely dislodge her. Luckily, she was having the same problems. She didn’t have enough room to bend over and bite him, not with him fighting back. His left hand dropped under the seat, his fingers searching for the handgun.

The vampire growled and her arm flashed downward. Loki saw the blow coming but was unable to block it. She drove a fist into his gut with her inhuman strength. The breath left him; it felt like being thrown against a wall. He wheezed; all of his instincts told him to curl up into a ball, to protect his organs, but the vampire’s knees were digging into his thighs, holding him in place. The vampire smiled and bent over him. Some of her blond hair had slipped from her ponytail; it brushed over his face and neck. Her hand came down on his skull and the other on his shoulder, prying them apart. His neck was exposed and he felt it when her cold tongue traced a line down the cut on his forehead. When she pulled away, his blood stained her lips.

She was so intent on her meal that she never realized his left arm had shifted, groping for the weapon the car floor. His fingers touched cold metal and he scrabbled for the gun. Loki was right handed, so the positioning was awkward. But he managed to push the gun against her ribs and pull the trigger.

The sound of the shot inside the car deafened him. He couldn’t hear her shrieks but he saw the way she flung herself backwards, cradling her injured side. Loki sat up and put two more rounds directly between her eyes. Again, this wouldn’t kill her but it would buy Loki some time. She fell out of the car and writhed, screaming in agony.

He emptied the rest of the clip into her and she stumbled off the road. The way she swerved and staggered, she looked a bit like a sorority girl who’d drank too much.

Thor was grappling with the first vampire-the one who had played chicken with them. It was huge, bulky with the kind of muscle usually seen on pro-wrestlers. Thor was smiling-the idiot, Loki thought-and swinging his machete so fast that Loki almost couldn’t follow the movements. His ears were still deafened from the gunfire, so he couldn’t hear the sounds of his brother’s laughter, or the vampire’s snarls. Thor was going to win. He was going to take this vampire’s head off.

But he never saw exactly how close they’d come to the edge of the road in the midst of their fight. And while two vampires couldn’t get the better of Thor, simple gravity could. His left foot slipped off the edge of the asphalt and he wasn’t expecting the sudden slope of the ditch, or the gravel crumbling under his feet. In a fight with a normal human, the fraction of a second Thor took to right himself wouldn’t have mattered. But it was all the vampire needed.

Loki’s still-ringing ears never heard the ‘snap’, but he saw it when the vampire pinned Thor’s arm behind his back in a classic joint lock, and then the vampire twisted, and Thor’s arm snapped under the pressure. Thor’s scream echoed off the trees.

Loki heard that. It was branded into his ears.

Thor stumbled and fell, rolling into the ditch, cradling his shattered arm to his chest. The vampire stood a few feet away, grinning. It was probably sure that its prey couldn’t fight back now. Its meal was an assured thing.

That was why it never saw the car.

While the vampire took the time to saunter over to its prey, Loki had sprung into the car and gunned the engine. Beheadings were the usual method for dealing with vampires. However, running them over worked too.

Loki felt the bump as he rolled over the vampire’s body. He yanked the car to a halt and threw open the door. Sprinting to the ditch, he nearly lost his own footing as he skidded down the gravel slope and knelt beside his brother. Thor had managed to sit up, but his healthy tan looked bleached, and his breath came in short, painful gasps. “Come on,” Loki urged, taking Thor’s good arm and hauling him to his feet. Thor hissed but accepted the help, managing to support most of his own weight. He allowed Loki to guide him to the car’s backseat.

When Loki glanced over his shoulder, he saw the vampire putting itself back together. It’s neck had been broken when the car hit it and the vampire was realigning the shattered vertebrae. Loki dashed for the driver’s side. Even before he fully shut the car door, he slammed his foot into the gas pedal. With a shriek of tires on asphalt, the car surged forward. Loki looked in his rear view mirror only once.

He saw all three vampires standing in the road, lit by the red taillights, giving them an infernal glow as they vanished from sight.

Loki drove in silence until the trees had disappeared and the comforting sight of civilization spread out before him. Sure, it was only a town consisting solely of a main street and a few shops, but it was better than those woods. Loki found their motel and pulled into the parking lot. Only then did he turn around and face Thor.

“How bad is it?” he asked.

Thor sat in the backseat, his arm dangling uselessly in his lap. Loki didn’t need a verbal confirmation. It was bad. “Let me see.” Loki snatched the flashlight out of the trunk and returned to Thor. When he shone the light on the injury, Loki’s heart fell. It wasn’t just bad-it was horrible. The vampire had snapped the bones in Thor’s forearm. Loki knew this because one shattered edge was poking through the skin, a white sliver amidst crimson stains. Thor’s shirt was already soaked through with fresh blood. “Fuck,” Loki breathed.

“Be okay,” Thor mumbled. “Just need rest.”

But Thor wasn’t going to be okay. He was probably already going into shock. Loki’s usually quick mind scrambled to keep up, but reality was moving too fast. This felt wrong-this was wrong. Thor wasn’t supposed to be injured. This was just a hunt, just a stupid hunt that they weren’t even supposed to be on. Dad was supposed to yell at Thor when they got home. They were supposed to go home, uninjured and victorious. Thor, who was bleeding all over the backseat and obviously slipping away. Hospital. He needed a hospital. Had Loki seen a hospital on the drive here? He couldn’t remember. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be happening-

On an impulse, Loki reached out and touched Thor’s arm.

Something inside Loki shifted, moved, and the world broke into pieces all around him.

It was like putting a pen to paper and watching words form as he moved. It was old knowledge, so instinctive he didn’t even have to reach for it. The broken skin slid together, the bone disappeared, and there was a sharp ‘snap’ as the bone was set. The wound simply vanished. Thor’s mouth opened on a silent scream. He sat there, panting, for a good few minutes. Loki watched and waited.

The world realigned and when it did, it took on new hues and shapes.

Loki’s thoughts shifted into an oddly focused order. Instead of panicking, his mind began planning out exactly what he needed to do. Get Thor inside. Get him to safety. Deal with the wounded first.

Thor’s eyes snapped open when Loki touched him again. “What,” Thor said hoarsely, “the fuck just happened?”

Loki didn’t answer. He saw no reason to. Silently, he grasped Thor’s good arm and drew him from the car. With strength he hadn’t known he possessed, Loki half-carried his brother to their motel room. Luckily, it had its own door to the outside, so there were no human lobbies to walk through. Part of Loki’s mind registered the fact he’d just thought of humans as another species, something separate from himself. But most of him couldn’t really give a damn.

He unlocked the door and brought Thor inside, settling him on the closest bed. He was still moving on instinct, without thought, and the actions seemed right. The numbness felt right. He retrieved a water bottle from his backpack and handed it to Thor. Thor still looked pale and his hand shook as he accepted the bottle. He drank a few gulps and set it on the nightstand. He reclined back into his pillows. His eyes were still fixed on Loki, and his mouth moved. “Loki,” he said, “what did you… do…” His eyelids fell shut and his jaw slackened. Loki stepped forward and placed a finger against Thor’s throat. His pulse was still steady. He’d just passed out, Loki realized. Even if his arm was healed, it must have taken something out of Thor.

Loki watched the rise and fall of his brother’s chest. Family. Family had been hurt. The injury had been repaired, but this insult couldn’t be overlooked.

Loki rose to his feet and silently walked out of the room, car keys in hand.

He had little memory of getting into the car, or of the drive to the campground. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how he remembered where the campground was. All he had were sketchy memories of a map he’d studied once. But somehow his fingers knew where to steer the car, and he found himself pulling onto a side road. When the gravel turned to dirt and he saw other cars, he killed the engine. He'd been right about the campground; it consisted of twelve cabins, all covered in tarps to prevent any sunlight from leaking inside. The trees formed a natural ceiling, blocking out the starlight. It smelled of trees and smoke and blood.

He was in the right place. He could sense them. Dead flesh, reanimated through unnatural means. Fellow predators. But he didn’t fear them. They were beneath him, and he wouldn’t have bothered coming here if they had not hurt something that was his.

The sound of the car must have alerted them. The vampires appeared, coming out of the cabins, some of them with bloodied teeth. They must have found prey at some point. There were about fifteen of them, all young-looking and dead-eyed.

The blond vampire, the one who’d attacked Loki, came to the forefront of the pack. She tilted her head, as if confused by what she saw. Then her nostrils flared and she recoiled, her lips drawing back to bare her long teeth. “Jötun,” she hissed. She began to retreat, taking several steps backward as if afraid to present her exposed back to Loki. The others took up her cry, and it became a low chant. Jötun. Jötun. Jötun.

“Vampire,” Loki said, in a voice devoid of emotion. Ice wreathed his arm, descending from his elbow past his fingers, forming a long blade.

Beheadings weren’t as simple as they looked-there was bone and muscle and tissues that wouldn’t easily part. But Loki managed it. He didn’t know how he did it, but it felt good. They came at him in a rush at first, then one at a time as fear began holding the less daring back. Loki moved as fast as they did. Faster. Soon there were bodies littered around him.

When the biggest vampire-the one who’d broken Thor’s arm-emerged from the pack, Loki smiled. He’d been waiting for this. Wanting this. The vampire sprang, fangs exposed and muscles tensed for battle. It wanted to rip Loki’s throat out, to add him to its list of kills.

So Loki simply placed his palm against the vampire’s chest and froze every liquid in its body. All the blood it had drained from humans. Everything.

When the vampire hit the ground, it shattered.

That was when the vampires started running away. Not all of them had attacked at first, some holding back and waiting for an opening. Now Loki saw terror fill their pale faces, and they darted through the trees. Prey, Loki’s instincts screamed at him. Fleeing prey. Prey that ran must be caught.

And then, suddenly, inexplicably, he heard a voice. Not a vampire’s. Thor.

His brother was running into the campground.

“What are you doing?” Thor said.

“Hunting.” The word came from somewhere inside Loki, but he couldn’t remember saying it.

Thor was suddenly in front of him. “No. No.” His eyes flicked up and down Loki and settled on his right arm. “Holy fuck,” he breathed, when he saw the ice sword. “Loki-stop it. They’re all dead.”

Not all of them. Some had run. Some had gotten away. Loki felt himself shift onto the balls of his feet, ready to move.

He wasn’t prepared for the punch that landed on the corner of his jaw or the darkness that swiftly followed it.

When Loki came to, he was on the ground. He lay on his back, facing the stars and the tops of the trees. It was still night; he couldn’t have been unconscious for very long. Slowly, he sat up. When his fingers touched the ground, he saw that his right arm was back to normal. No ice sword. Abruptly, all the memories of the night rushed back and he found himself curling into himself, gasping for air. “What-what happened?” His head darted from side to side until he saw Thor.

His older brother sat with his back to a tree. His face was splattered with blood and dirt. Loki couldn’t have deciphered the expression on Thor’s face if his life depended on it. It could have been wonder or confusion or fear. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to hit you so hard.”

Loki touched his jaw. He could already feel a knot forming under the skin and he winced as his fingertips brushed it. There would probably be a spectacular bruise tomorrow. “You knocked me out.”

“I had to.” Thor’s mouth set in a defensive line. “You were going to go after them. I saw it in your face. And you were acting… well, shit, Loki.” He glanced around, at the bodies strewn throughout the campsite. “You killed them. You fucking massacred them. And I saw… when I saw you fight them, you froze one of them.”

The full implications of what he did finally hit Loki. The healing, the sudden chill in his body, the way he’d entered the campground. He’d hunted vampires, a whole nest of vampires, and he’d won. So many of them and one of him. It was impossible. He shouldn’t have been able to do that. No human should have been able to do that.

“They called me Jötun,” Loki said softly. “That’s what I was. Am.”

“No.” Thor was at Loki’s side in an instant. “You aren’t a monster. I’ve been thinking about this while you were out. You healed my arm-which felt fucking weird, by the way. Have you ever done that before?” The last part came out a little sharply, as if Thor wanted to make sure Loki hadn’t been hiding this ability.

Loki shook his head. “Never.”

“Yeah, well, that fits with my theory. I think you gave something to me that you shouldn’t have. That’s what that Eric guy said, right? Jötuns give part of their own life force away when they heal. I think, well, I think you might have temporarily gave away the only part of you that could heal me.” Thor made no attempt to blunt his words and Loki understood immediately.

The only thing that could heal another human, that Loki possessed… was Loki’s very humanity. If that was taken away, all that was left was Jötun.

Loki realized he was trembling. Exhaustion seeped into his muscles and he let his eyes close for a moment. A heavy weight settled onto his shoulders and he bent under the burden of it all. He’d thought he’d escaped his Jötun heritage. He’d thought he could be human. He was an idiot, apparently.

“I’m sorry,” Loki said. He glanced around and saw all of the bodies-all the headless corpses-and a wave of nausea rolled through his stomach. He needed to get out of here. He got to his feet and began walking in the direction of the parking lot.

Thor fell into step beside him. His color was back to normal again, no deathly pale tint to his skin or bones poking through his arm. He was completely healed. At least something good had come out of this. “Don’t do that ever again, all right?” Thor said. “You have no idea what it was like to wake up in that motel with you and the car gone. Only reason I knew where you’d gone was because someone saw you turn in the direction of the campground. Had to hitch a ride with a local. He probably thought I was insane.”

Loki finally dared to meet his brother’s eyes. He expected to see horror, revulsion. Instead, there was only a steady concern on his brother’s face. “I’m sorry,” Loki said.

Thor shook his head. “It wasn’t you.”

“I’m sorry,” Loki repeated. He wanted to say it again and again. Because maybe if he said the words enough times, he would actually mean them.

Part of him still felt that rush of power, that iron strength in his muscles, the comforting cold of the ice on his arm, and the way all of senses had been sharpened. It had been exhilarating, addictive, and suddenly Loki understood why Thor felt the need to test himself again and again. For the sheer thrill of it. For the power. He hadn’t just killed those vampires; he had reveled in their deaths.

Loki swallowed and tried to push that part of him away.
() () ()

The drive from the library to their motel in Amity is a silent and uncomfortable one. Thor doesn’t say anything, but Loki can feel the disapproval radiating from him. Thor will not entertain the idea of Loki drawing on his Jötun half. It’s happened accidentally a few times-that incident in Ohio with the vampires was by far the worst. Since then, Thor has gone to great lengths to hide any injury acquired on a hunt. Scrapes, bruises, sprains, breaks, lacerations. Thor has even chosen to visit an ER after a particularly bad fall-and Thor hates hospitals more than anything-rather than tempt Loki with the prospect of healing him.

There have been other incidents. Minor things, really. An elemental that had tried to drown Loki and had been killed for its troubles. A child who’d been bitten by a werewolf; Loki hadn’t been able to help himself and he’d healed the girl before Thor could protest. A demon who’d tried to possess him and been forced out by Loki’s inhuman will. And that one time they ended up locked in a freezer, when Loki placed a hand on Thor’s back and began leeching the cold out of Thor’s body (without his permission, of course) to prevent hypothermia.

Depending on how much he uses his powers, the side effects vary. It ranges from inhuman apathy to cold rages that Loki has to contain by locking himself in a bathroom for several hours. It’s like playing with fire, he knows. Playing with fire in a warehouse full of gunpowder. The thought of losing control terrifies him, but there are times when his heritage has saved himself and Thor. During those times, he can’t bring himself to regret using his abilities. Without them, he’s just a skinny, pale, smart guy. With them, he can be something equal to his brother.

Thor parks the car in the motel lot. He leans back in his seat as the car engine begins to cool. This is the longest Thor has gone without talking for quite a while. Thor isn’t one to hold in his emotions or his words. Unlike Loki, he’s perfectly willing to express himself 24/7, with very little filter between his brain and mouth.

“Have you figured out how to kill this thing?” Thor asks, and the unspoken words settle between them. Is there a way to kill a trickster without you going all Jötun on its ass?

Loki considers lying. Lying comes easily to him; he’s able to manipulate words the way Thor can use weapons. He could tell Thor no; he could say that the only chance they have is for Loki to use the half of him that he fears. It might be enough to make Thor reconsider going after a trickster. Thor won’t hesitate to throw himself into battle, but using Loki’s abilities is such a taboo that he might pause. He might agree with Loki to leave town. Leave the assholes to their fate. Let a trickster continue playing its deadly games.

The lie hovers on his lips and he bites down on it.

When Loki speaks, it is with great reluctance. “A wooden stake,” he says, “to the trickster’s heart.”

A moment passes and Thor smiles.
() () ()

When Thor was eighteen, he was ready to be the kind of hunter his father had been.

Odin had been a force to be reckoned with. He took on supernatural threats that no other hunter would touch. Demons, vampires, hellhounds, ghosts, wendigos, werewolves, a minotaur. Hell, the man had been brazen enough to raise a half-Jötun in his house. He was the embodiment of badass.

Or he had been.

Sometime in the last few years, Dad’s views had shifted. “Killing will only get us so far,” he explained. “I think, if we could forge some kind of working relationships with some of the other creatures out there…”

Thor snorted. “You’re joking, right?”

“No.”

“What?” Thor sounded as if his world had cracked down the middle. “You want to try to tame a couple of werewolves? Give them a kennel in the backyard? Maybe take a vampire out for a drink?”

Loki was listening quietly from the kitchen. His father and brother might have been debating in the living room, but their voices carried throughout the house. Loki’s hand paused on the refrigerator door as he listened intently.

“We’ve been hunting them and they’ve been hunting us for hundreds of years,” Dad replied. “The war has yet to see any shift in power. All we end up with is more death.”

“Human deaths!”

“Yes, but we’ve killed their kind, too. If we could draw up some sort of treaty, perhaps designate land specifically for them-“

Thor’s room was on the second floor, as was Loki’s. Loki didn’t bother with knocking. All it would get him was a gruff, “Go the hell away”.

Predictably, the door was also locked. With a sigh, Loki pulled a hairpin out of his pocket and slipped it into the keyhole. The house was old, so all the interior locks were useless things. He pushed the door open and found Thor pacing back and forth in his room. Unfortunately for Thor, it was a rather small room. Thor’s long strides ate up the distance in about two steps. Loki sat on the bed, legs curled to his chest and watched. Eventually, Thor would wear himself out. Loki knew better than to try and match his brother’s temper. It flared up like fire and died almost as quickly. All Loki had to do was wait it out.

Thor threw a glare at Loki. “You heard?”

Loki nodded.

“He’s a fool,” Thor said hotly. “Thinking we could-I mean, honestly, how the hell can he think this way?” He resumed his pacing. “Like we should just hand over our own kind on a platter. The moment we back down, the moment we show weakness-they’ll come after us twice as hard.”

Loki remained silent. He wasn’t quite sure where he stood on the whole hunting issue and he knew Thor wouldn’t be able to hear dissenting opinions at the moment.

“Draw up some kind of treaty.” Thor ran a hand through his hair. “Like that would do any good. They’d break it the moment we turned our backs on them. Not to mention a treaty would mean they’d have to unify first.”

Loki shrugged.

“He doesn’t hunt anymore,” Thor ranted. “He just waits for something to attack before going after it. It’s all reaction instead of action. If we took a more active role, tried to get out in the field more, we could save more people. Monsters have to be hunted and he can’t see that anymore.”

Monsters have to be hunted. The words came like a blow and Loki looked down at his lap, unable to meet his brother’s eyes. It had only been four months since their impromptu road trip to Ohio. When they’d returned, Dad shouted so long and so hard that Loki thought he might have broken a few blood vessels in his eye, but in the end they got off with a month’s grounding. Neither of them told their parents exactly how the vampires had been dealt with. Loki had been willing to break the news to their father, but Thor intervened. “No,” he’d said firmly. “The fewer people that know, the better.” And Loki couldn’t find a way to argue with that. It helped that part of him didn’t want Dad to know. Loki had always known he wasn’t the son that Dad had favored; when he’d discovered what he was, Loki had figured he knew why. But he still couldn’t bear to see fear and disgust on Dad’s face.

But even if the months had passed, the sensation of ice encasing Loki’s arm, of the way power had electrified his own fingertips, and the way the vampires had run from him… it was all too close. Most of it featured heavily in his dreams. He’d wake up in the middle of the night, paralyzed by the aftermath of the dream. He would wake up, his heart racing, with happiness singing through his veins. It was impossible to convince himself that he was different from the things Thor wanted to hunt. What kind of person-what kind of thing-woke up from a dream of killing feeling happy? They felt like good dreams, and that terrified him.

He’d taken to going down to the kitchen after waking up, because he didn’t want risk going back to sleep. He’d sit at the kitchen table and stare at the doors and windows (salted) and the protective runes on the ceiling. More than once, his mother had found him dozing on the couch at five in the morning. She seemed to think his insomnia had to do with him taking the SATs (probably because that’s what he’d told her). A glass of warm milk and a pat on the head and she usually sent him back to his room. He would read until daylight leaked over the horizon and he could come back downstairs without it looking suspicious.

A movement drew Loki back to himself; Thor was sliding onto the bed beside Loki.

The bed moved, sank under Thor’s weight, and Loki had to grab the coverlet to stay upright. “Hey,” he said, poking a finger into Loki’s shoulder. “You know I wasn’t talking about you, right?” Thor wasn’t exactly the most tactful person in the world, but he usually realized when he’d put his foot in his mouth. He frowned at Loki. “You’re not a monster. An idiot sometimes, but not a monster.”

The corners of Loki’s mouth turned up in a bitter half-smile. Monsters killed, monsters weren’t human. Sounded pretty right to him.

As if he heard Loki’s thoughts, Thor’s heavy hand fell on Loki’s shoulder and stayed there. “Stop making that face,” Thor said.

Loki finally spoke aloud. “Face?”

“Yeah, that face. That ‘I Am Unworthy’ one. Usually shows up when you get a B on a test.”

Loki finally managed a laugh. “I do not get Bs.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Thor trying to think of a time Loki had got a B and Loki simply taking comfort in his brother’s closeness. Loki let himself unwind, let some of the weight fall from his shoulders. Thor felt warm, like he always did. Warm and solid and human. Sometimes Loki thought that if he could cling hard enough to his brother, try to emulate his strength and his good nature, he might be able to keep his monster half at bay.

Loki turned to Thor and smiled mischievously. “Want to sneak out to the cemetery and go salt and burn some bones just to piss Dad off?” he suggested.

Thor’s surprised laugh echoed throughout the whole house. As did Dad’s yelling when they returned several hours later, smelling of gasoline and smudged with dirt.
() () ()

They end up going to a bar. It’s a local place, obviously filled with people who know one another. Loki and Thor are given evaluating looks the moment they step through the door. It’s dimly lit, with low ceiling fans that look like they might clip the top of a tall patron’s head. Loki sees a few men duck under the fans as they stride from the bar to a pool table. There’s a game of poker going on at the largest table, and a woman deals out cards so quickly that her nimble fingers are a blur. Thor orders beers for them both, but they’re not here to drink. This is just another night of research, although it’s the kind Thor is more enthusiastic about.

They now know how to kill a trickster, thanks to Loki’s hacking of university databases. However, locating a trickster is… well, rather tricky. They can move through space at will, shape-shifting into different disguises. Loki and Thor’s best bet is to find the trickster’s next victim.

“And then we follow them around,” Loki says in an undertone. He takes a sip of his beer.

Thor’s mouth hooks up into a grin. “You mean we protect them.”

“Spy on, protect. It’s all the same thing.”

Thor eyes the bar’s patrons. It’s a good place to hear all the local gossip. Alcohol will only make people be freer with their words. Rants that would never be spoken in sober society crop up. Grudges are made public. Gossip is passed back and forth. Music plays loudly from badly hidden speakers, making people talk louder than they would anywhere else. Thor and Loki split up. Being together only makes them less approachable. Thor remains to the bar, to stand alone and look like chick-bait. Someone will go talk to him within a minute, and Thor will strike up a conversation. In half an hour, he’ll be chatting with them like they’ve been friends for years.

Loki retreats into a corner so the can observe the entire bar. He blends better into the background. He can make himself invisible. Letting his gaze fall onto the table’s dented surface, he begins to listen. Tuning out the chatter and focusing on individual conversations takes concentration, but Loki can do it. Sometimes, he wonders if it’s a skill he’s picked up over the years, or yet another inherited ability. He sinks into the noise and lets it wash over him.

“Can’t believe Jared said that.”

“Seriously, if my boss grabs my ass one more time-”

“Hey, look at the guy at the bar.”

“…Cute, right?”

“Does this margarita taste funny to you?”

“-Income taxes raised again.”

“This seat taken?”

It takes Loki a moment to realize that this last sentence is directed at himself. He looks up and sees a man gesturing at the other seat at Loki’s table. He is sandy-haired and boyish, with a friendly smile. “No other seats available,” the man says. “Don’t worry, I’m waiting for friends. I won’t bug you too long.” Without waiting for Loki to reply, the man settles into the chair opposite Loki and slides his own drink (another beer) onto the table. “You new around here?”

Loki suspects that this man will not leave without some conversation, so he might as well make the best of it. “Just visiting,” Loki says.

“That’s what I said,” the man replies, “five years ago. Small towns have a way of getting their hooks into you.” He gives Loki a small salute with his beer. “I’m Fandral.”

“Loki.” No point in lying about his name.

“So what brings you to our rainy little town, Loki?” Fandral seems genuinely interested. Or maybe just drunk.

Loki gives his usual reply. “I’m a student at Portland State.” He’s memorized the large, local universities in case anyone asks. Saying he’s a student gives him all kinds of leeway; he can ask questions, seem inquisitive without creepy, and do all sorts of crazy stunts in the name of ‘research’.

“What are you studying?”

“Journalism,” Loki says. “I have to find a local personality to do a profile on.”

Fandral laughs. “You’re looking for a personality? Anything particular in mind?”

Loki allows himself a small, wicked smile. “I’m interested in investigative reporting.”

“Ah,” Fandral nods knowingly, “you’re digging for dirt.”

“Only way to get noticed.”

Fandral taps his index finger against the table in time with the music’s beat. He appears to be thinking hard. “Coulson,” he finally says.

“Who?”

“Works in the state senate.” Fandral brings his beer to his lips and holds it there for a moment. “Just passed a law cutting budgets.”

“All kinds of budgets are being cut these days,” Loki points out.

Fandral raises his eyebrows and gives Loki a little smirk. “Yeah, but he cut funding meant to go to state park upkeep, educational grants, and local homeless shelters.”

“Ouch.” Loki is almost surprised that Fandral doesn’t add that Coulson kicks puppies, too.

“He also laid me off,” Fandral remarks, as if it is an afterthought. “Bastard.”

“You’re in politics?”

“I am. Or so I was.” Fandral raises his beer. “Now I’m just another member of the unemployed club.”

Loki adds gravely, “We are legion,” which makes Fandral laugh.

After Fandral’s friends arrive and Fandral gives him a cheery goodbye, Loki finds Thor at the bar. Predictably, Loki’s brother is being swarmed by the local female population. Loki leans in close and says quietly, “I’ve got a name.”

Onto Part Three