Thirty Three
10 November, 2001, 60 miles West of Chamdo, Tibet
Jade awoke to the sound of a pounding heart. At least that’s what it sounded like. Her whole body felt deliciously warm and liquid. The sheet felt smooth and silky against her bare skin, her bare chest. She stretched out and struggled against consciousness as it found her and took her. Who said it wasn’t a thing?
Her eyes shot open the instant she realized she couldn’t possibly be in bed with Oz. Panic took her and for a moment she could not figure out where she was. Then she looked down at the silk she clutched over her nakedness. It was no sheet.
Loki strode into view, shirtless. “Morning, darling,” he said with a small smile. The pounding on the door grew louder and more insistent. “Now who could that be at this hour?” He padded to the door and turned to look at her. “Your boyfriend, no doubt.”
Jade was filled with revulsion. She had no memory of what had happened to her, or what he had done to her, but she had an active imagination. She shivered with disgust as she held the silk over herself.
“What will he say when he sees you in this condition?” Loki raised a skeptical eyebrow. For an instant, as she sat on his study’s cot, terrified, he seemed to ponder this. Then with a cruel smile, his eyes lit up. “Let’s find out, shall we?” He reached for the door latch.
“No!” She shouted, jumping from the bed, still clutching the shirt. Her eyes and tone were desperate and pleading. “Please don’t open it.”
Oz pounded on the door again. Something was going on in there, he was sure of it. His fist hurt from banging so hard, but he was determined to enter. “Jade,” he called.
Jade looked frantically around the study. Oz could not know what happened. It would bring out his other side, Jade knew. She had only seen the wolf in him once, when a New York mugger had made all sorts of filthy threats to her while holding Oz at knife point.
She had been surprised, though he had already informed her of his unfortunate curse, and had in turn told him of her own ability to partially transform, thanks to her father. Needless to say, with both of them extremely afraid and angry, there hadn’t been much left of the mugger by the time they had regained control of themselves.
Oz would certainly turn now. And then Loki would be forced to kill him, with little hesitation, Jade guessed. All there was in this room was books and the mess of papers and texts on the desk. And Wilson.
“Okay,” Loki shrugged mildly. “I won’t open it. But someone had better. The longer we wait, the more agitated old Oz’ll be — Coming!” he yelled at the door, “—and eventually he’s going to break it down.” As the pounding continued, Loki went on. “I know it’s possible; most of the doors in this building have been broken at one point or another.” He stepped away from the door and sat himself down on the single chair in the room. “I’ll let you open it.”
Jade looked frantically around the room for her clothes, her robes —anything. There was nothing. “You sick fuck,” she said desperately, trying to wrap the silk around her to cover as much as possible. It was no use. Finally she simply turned her back to him and slipped the shirt on, pulling it down past her waist as much as possible. She was not used to being naked around men. Not even Oz.
“Oh yes,” Loki said with mock seriousness, “he’ll believe that.” Loki stood and paced before the slitted window, opposite the door, teasing her desperation. “Time’s a-ticking,” he said goading her. “He’s probably looking for something big and hard to start battering down the door.” Loki made a vicious little chuckle. “Too bad he wasn’t looking last night.” She gave him a hateful glare. Just then the pounding stopped. Oz had, indeed gone off to look for a battering ram.
“Now you really have two options,” Loki said, sitting down again. “You can open the door when he comes back and try desperately to explain your... apparel, or you can wait until he lets himself in, then also try and explain why it was that you wanted to keep him out, hoping desperately that he doesn’t do something we all might regret– him most of all. The choice is yours.”
“You... sick fuck!” She said again, her eyes tearing up again.
“Hey!” His eyes widened, as if with excitement, “we’re having our first lovers’ quarrel!”
“You sick fuck!” she shouted, disgustedly.
“Hey, wait—” Loki turned to the table, “I think there’s a thesaurus around here somewhere...”
Just then there was a deep boom as something big and heavy struck the door. After a few seconds there was another.
“And what do you think Oz would say if he knew you were using such foul language?” Loki frowned for a moment, then his eyes lit up. “Hey! Let’s ask him!”
Jade threw herself against the door as Loki stood from the chair, her whole body shaking as Oz bashed the door again. “No,” she begged, swallowing her dignity and letting go of the hem of the silk shirt to press her hands against the door — keeping it shut. Boom.
“Oh, come on,” Loki prodded, mocking her desperation, “let wolfy boy in.” A smile blossomed on his face. “We can give him the birds and the bees talk together: when a Specter loves a Specter, and they’re both of consenting age—”
“Shut up!” She screamed, her face contorted in rage. “I would never do anything with you!”
Loki shrugged. “Says the chick wearing my shirt.” Boom. Loki looked to the door, then his face lit up again as if the most brilliant idea had entered his mind. He snapped his fingers: “Threesome!”
“You sick— Fuck!”she screamed, unable to produce a more suitable description. “You just want us to play your sick, twisted games! You don’t care about helping– you don’t care about my soul!”
“On the contrary,” he said seriously, rising from the chair. “Think of this as a test. You can either open the door and break Oz’s heart,” he pointed to the door as it boomed again, “or you can let him break it down and I’ll break his heart.”
“If he sees us, he’ll kill you,” Jade answered, coldly, her face wet now with tears of frustration.
“You had better hope he doesn’t,” Loki cocked his head. “I’m your only shot at a soul. And besides,” he raised an eyebrow, “I’ve killed hundreds of things worse than werewolves. Either way– if he breaks in, you lose.”
A familiar look invaded Jade’s face. Though he hadn’t given it a name and was loath to call it friend, it was a look he knew quite well. Pure and vivid hatred. “You bastard,” she whispered.
“So the question your soul is dying to know–” Loki said, as though he hadn’t heard, “is not whether or not you love your Oz more than your soul– but whether you love him enough to hurt him, maybe lose him, or enough to kill him.”
The door cracked as the statue’s head smashed into it again. Oz drew it as far back as the corridor would allow, then charged again. Boom, and there was a distinct splintering sound. He was tearing the door from its frame. He tried, but couldn’t hear the argument inside anymore. He drew the statue back and prepared himself to charge.
Then the door opened.
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