Hello, my darlings! :)

Here's a chapter, which is rare, considering I rarely post on Fridays!

Did anyone notice that I accidentally wrote "Rani" instead of "Loki" for a sentence last chapter? Haha, I'm already in adaptation form. Btw, I slowed down slightly on that to write Kidnapped at a faster pace. Starting summer, on days when I have nothing going on, I'm going to edit one chapter over for Blue Moon, which, for the first half of the book, basically means re-writing it, and then spending the next day writing a new chapter for Kidnapped.

Out of curiosity for any of y'all, here is my list of favorite characters to write:

1. Thea (sort of natural)

2. depending on my mood, Loki and Videl are usually tied here

3. Caomh (He's a bit boring right now, but omg, I grow to love him. He's so delightfully evil and such a drama queen.)

4. Kyle and Jack, and sometimes Max

Least Favorite? Probably Steve and Archer, to be honest. And Mansar wasn't that much fun.

~Music~

Voice of Rushing Waters (City of the Fallen)

Mordred's Lullaby (Heather Dale)

Sorry no edit... I'm getting quite sleepy...But here's a lovely, heartbreaking gif of Loki! :)

Speaking of heartbreaking...have fun with the chapter! Especially the end 

:(

Sorry, large author's note.

Chapter Twenty-Four

~Nobody's POV~

The next morning, Loki wakes up tangled in luxurious blankets and sheets with his strong arms around Neidra's bare shoulders. Both of their black hair is mussed, and Loki moves his from his face before reaching down to kiss Neidra right next to her ear. His eyes are silver.

As he moves to stand, he feels long fingers around his bicep. He turns to see Neidra looking tiredly at him, but there is deep satisfaction in her silver, shining eyes. 

He does not notice the satisfaction, or the cruel smirk on her lips. Instead he says, his voice still gravelly, "Sleep, my sweet. I go to the palace, and then to Midgard today."

"For what reason?" Her smirk is growing. 

"My daughter of course," says Loki, getting up from the bed. He begins to dress, and says over his shoulder, "The sooner I can find her, the quicker we may yet rule this realm together."

"And what shall you do when you find her?" asks Neidra with the anticipation of a child being handed a prize. 

As Loki fastens his belt around his waist, he also fingers the scabbard attached. As Neidra watches, he unsheathes it, holding the wicked blade in his hand, the blade that now drips with something clear, slightly sticky, but irrevocably dangerous. 

"I shall..." Loki stutters, staring at the dagger. His hand has begun to shake, and his eyes begin to show the slightest shade of green.

Neidra stands, not even wrapping a blanket around her body, only half-hidden in the shadows of the dawn. She walks up to Loki and wraps her arms around his neck. He takes a shuddering breath as she murmurs something in a foreign tongue, then whispers, "Do it. Forget about that devotion that is tying you down to a rock, tying you down so that it prevents what is truly in your heart." 

Loki closes his eyes tightly, still shaking. Neidra's bare arms still around him.

"Come, my love," she whispers, tracing his neck with her sharpened nail. "Come to me."

When he opens his eyes, they are a tortuous silver, a marble color glazed over, with just his black pupil somewhat relieving the unnatural appearance. 

Neidra sighs a sigh of triumphant relief, "What will you do?" 

Loki hesitates no longer, although his voice is now slightly monotone. 

"I will kill her. I will kill the little firebird." 

~Thea's POV~

I wake up the next morning early, at around seven according to the clock on the cluttered nightstand. Even though the warm mattress is excruciatingly tempting, I sit up, testing my pain. It's not terrible, but my stomach is tingling slightly still, from the bear claws. 

I look down. Videl is spread out on my makeshift mattress, sleeping with his mouth open so that soft snores can be heard. I take the Polysporin tube from the nightstand and throw it at him. It strikes the side of his head and bounces off onto the carpet. 

He opens one amber eye and narrows it at me. "Ow." 

"Wake up. We have to go to New York." 

Videl grunts and rolls over so that his back is to me. 

Standing up, I almost kick him in the groin, but decide against an early-morning murder. Instead, I kick his back, "The sooner we leave, the sooner we go wherever the hell we're going after." 

He mumbles something incomprehensible. 

"I don't speak idiot," I say, "You're going to have to translate for me." 

He sits up on his elbows and glares at me, his hair tangled and his eyes half-open, "I said you need to write the letter before we get there, which coincidentally means that you didn't need to wake me up." 

"Where are my clothes?" 

"How should I know?" 

"You don't have to be cranky!" I exclaim. For some reason, I feel something unpleasant stirring in my chest. Not to mention that there is an even unpleasant feeling in the pit of my stomach, something slightly painful inside. I associate it with the bear's claws on my skin. 

Videl doesn't reply and closes his eyes, completely ignoring me. 

I change into the jeans and shirt Videl had brought last night. The jeans are baggy on me, so I tuck in my shirt, which is also too big. I run my fingers through my hair, feeling awkward and sad by how my fingers reach the air so abruptly, so quickly. 

When I walk back into the hotel room, Videl is gone. I guess he's going to get breakfast. 

I walk dully to the bed and slump against the pillows, looking towards the window. It's freezing in here, so I pull the blankets up to my chin. I feel horrible. My stomach hurts, and I just feel empty and cranky. 

I sigh and look at the nightstand. There is a pad of paper with the hotel insignia, and also a pen. And then, I begin writing. 

*

When Videl gets back, I'm done, and also hungry. Thankfully, even though I had been really crabby, he still had thought to bring me breakfast. True, it is a disgusting bacon and cheese biscuit, which also reminds me of Kyle, who hates fast food more than he hates Aunt Jemimah syrup, but at least it's food. 

"Did you finish?" He asks sulkily, plopping down on the bed. 

"Yes," I say just as sulkily, "Why aren't we going?"

"Because we aren't." 

"You're not helpful," I snap, feeling the heated, sudden anger in my chest and in my stomach again, "And you're an ass." 

"I'm not an ass," says Videl stormily, throwing his dagger up in the air and catching it repeatedly, "But if I were, I assure you I would be the handsomest of them all." 

I kick the side of the bed, forgetting about my broken toes. I remember when I feel a pain shoot up my foot and leg, and let loose a string of curses that Videl could hardly rival, and that Loki would actually probably wash my mouth out for. 

The pain makes me even more furious, frantically, annoyingly furious. So when Videl, passing me to get to the window, brushes me whether accidentally or purposefully, I yell at him, "WATCH IT, YOU LUMBERING IDIOT!" 

I realize how much I sound like Loki, and how much this makes me miserable, but I don't have much time to realize those things because Videl seized my shoulder and shakes me like a maraca. 

"I don't know what your problem is," he snaps, "But you need to stop." 

"Don't tell me what to do!" I push him, which doesn't do much, which makes me angrier, and j feel angry tears, and overall, I'm just angry, "I'm TIRED of people telling me what to do, like you and everyone and Loki and I'm TIRED of being stuck with you in this hotel room and-" 

Videl shakes me again. 

"Will you please, for mercy's sake, shut up?" 

"LET GO OF ME!" I feel the fire on my fingers, a consequence of my temper. 

"Dear God," says Videl, "What on earth is going on in that silly little brain of yours?" But he lets go of me. 

I stalk away from him and walk into the bathroom. Tears of fury are forming on my eyes, but I clench my jaw to stop them. No crying. None. Nope. 

I look in the mirror. My face is bright red, like it so often is when I lose it. I get that from my mother. But I get my temper from Loki. 

I stay in the bathroom, mostly because I'm too embarrassed to face Videl, until about ten minutes later when I hear Videl's voice. Curiosity- another sin of mine- causes me to walk back into the room to find Videl holding a very familiar white owl on his wrist. 

Videl looks at me with narrowed amber eyes. "Are you going to say thank you to Wairua for probably saving your life, or are you going to scream at him too?" 

"I don't speak owl," I say miserably. 

"He says he saw you in Asgard in the courtroom, being held by two guards and facing Odin who is, of course, your father." 

My blood runs cold. 

"He also says Loki forced you to drink some sort of potion and that you began screaming from its effects. He does not know what the potion is, however. What was that potion?" 

I swallow, forever thankful that Loki had blessed me with one trait of his: quick thinking and lying. 

"It was something to make my brain weak so that he could try to control it." 

"Ah. I assume it didn't work." 

"No, it didn't work," I say, wishing it had. 

Videl strokes Wairua's head for a moment, and then says, "I'm going to take a shower. I must beautify myself before traveling into the destitute-ridden city of New York. Be ready to leave when I return." 

I don't even have the heart to make a crack at the lavender shampoo, and watch Videl vanish into the bathroom. 

This means I am left with Wairua. He peers at me through his amber eyes, peering so deeply that I twitch. I hope he can't read minds. 

I want to say thank you, but I don't feel like it. Saying thank you to Videl had been pushing it enough. 

By the time Videl gets back, I have curled up in the corner of the bed with my back to the owl. 

"Let's go," says Videl brusquely. 

I stand up reluctantly, ignoring the slight, cramping pain in my abdomen, and then pull on the smaller backpack. It doesn't seem as heavy; I don't know if it's because Videl has pulled some stuff out or because I'm feeling better, but whatever the case, it feels lighter on my shoulders. 

After making sure that Videl has his dagger-that-can-turn-into-a-spear stashed in the scabbard at his belt, he walks up to me, Wairua bobbing on his shoulders like a particularly imperial rajah. Before I can say a word, he whisks us off into an envelope of black smoke. 

*

I land unsteadily- I don't think I will ever get the hang of this Jaunt thing. As I look around, I immediately recognize the fourth floor hallway, where most of the guest rooms are located. It's very quiet, and I don't hear a single voice. 

"All right," says Videl, looking around quickly, his muscles tensed as if waiting for someone to jump out at us, "Hurry up." 

I walk-run to my room, which is about fifty steps from here. After leaning against the door, listening for anyone, I head inside. 

To my surprise, the room is not bare. There is a duffel bag in the corner, with clothes thrown out from it. Hair supplies scatter the vanity table that I had used to get ready for Tony's party last year, with Jane and Darcy's help. 

Videl walks in behind me, Wairua still on his shoulder. "Apparently, you walked into the wrong room."

"It's not the wrong room," I say crossly, "Somebody's just using it." 

That's unusual too, because Stark Tower has about fifteen guest rooms in this hallway. It must be an extremely full house. A feeling of foreboding settles on me. Probably, these people are looking for me. 

I suddenly realize how close I am to everyone. Max could be right down a flight of stairs. Kyle could be in the kitchen down the hall. Anyone could be here. And I realize also that this is the wrong place to be, because I need to get some things.

"We need to go to my apartment," I say, feeling the piece of paper in my hand, "Nobody will look here." 

"There's someone living in this room," says Videl, looking annoyed, "They're bound to find it."

"My apartment," I say as authoritatively as possible, "Let's go."

He looks at me, and then folds his arms before continuing to look at me, "What do you want from your apartment?"

I decide I may as well come clean. "My dagger. And a few other stuff." 

Videl breathes slowly and loudly through his earringed nose. "Fine." 

When Videl had Jaunted us to my apartment, I had been sick with fear that Max or Kyle or anyone would be here. But to my utmost relief, the place is empty...except for Klaka. 

With a howl of joy, Klaka bounds across the kitchen, nearly running into the table in excitement as he bounds up on me so vigorously, I nearly fall over. 

"Hi Klaka," I whisper, leaning down to pet him and almost getting a concussion from him jumping up at my head, licking me, "Shh, shh, please be quiet!" 

Klaka gets the point, and, his tail wagging so quickly I wouldn't be surprised if it fell off, he gets off of his hind legs and contents himself with running circles around me, panting from his excursions. 

"I'm going to my room," I say, feeling an ache of longing as I look around the apartment. I see piles of takeout cartons on the table, Kyle's guitar still leaning against the wall on the doorway, and saddest of all, a stack of unwashed dishes on the kitchen counter. Kyle never leaves dishes unwashed, even in Max's place. 

"I'm coming with you," says Videl. 

I don't protest as he follows me down the short hallway; I'm not up to it. Klaka, however, growls at Videl. Videl ignores him, but Wairua hoots tauntingly from Videl's shoulder, flapping his wings with great pomp. 

My room is exactly how it had been the day I had left with Kyle to go to Boston. Bed unmade, clothes thrown around, homework still in a pile. The window is even still partially open. 

I move quickly, not keen on staying here for long. I reach under my bed and pull out my dagger, the now ruby studded one that I haven't touched since October. It's still sharp, and shimmering slightly in the light, and as I run my hand around the handle, I feel a surge of power and electricity run through me that I don't feel with any other weapon. On this dagger, I feel my hands, my younger hands, learning how to use the blade for the first time, and I also feel Loki's hands, guiding my own. It's a weapon full of memories, and one that I am still reluctant to use.

While Videl leans moodily against my bathroom door, I walk to my nightstand and pull open the bottom drawer. There is a drawstring bag in here, and I take it out; this is my bag that has comforted me when I need it the most, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need it soon. I also sweep my pile of photos into my backpack, which I have hastily taken off of my shoulders. 

Just as I am about to put the note on the nightstand, Videl jerks his head up. I don't even get the chance to open my mouth before my bedroom door opens and Angelique walks inside. 

Her mouth drops open when she sees me. 

"Thea!" she finally exclaims, "Oh my God, Thea, where have you- what- we've been looking EVERYWHERE for you!" 

"I personally don't see what the big to-do is about," says Videl, regarding Angelique with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance, "It's just Thea." 

"And who is THIS?"

Videl must look really unusual to Angelique. Not only does he admittedly look beautifully ethereal, but there is also a rather large white owl sitting calmly on his shoulder. 

"That's Videl," I say, my mind racing as I put random items in my backpack as discretely as possible, "Um, Angelique, you can't tell anyone-"

"Are you kidding me!?" she exclaims, "Everyone is worried sick about you! And I mean that literally! I'm fairly certain that Max is actually completely run-down!" 

"Please, Angelique!" I beg, "This is for their own good!"

I want to ask her why she's even in the apartment in the first place, but know when not to test my limits. 

"What are you talking about?" she asks, pulling the ends of her black hair in exasperation, "Thea, what are you even doing? We thought you were kidnapped, but you're-"

"I was kidnapped," I say. 

"By who?"

"That's complicated, and also classified," Videl steps in, "So I suggest you leave silently if you value the control of your brain."

As he leers at her, Angelique's mouth opens slightly, "You're a Velah." 

"Ding ding ding," says Videl in a bored voice, "Thea, let's go. I told you this was a bad idea. Leave the damned note, and get over here." 

I would have if, at that moment, someone else walks into the room. 

Every single person in the room freezes. Angelique freezes from confusion. Videl freezes from fury. And I just freeze from shock. 

"Thea," says Loki, a slow smile on his lips. He is wearing light armor, and his hair is messily strewn about his face and shoulders so messily, I can't even make out his eyes. "Thea, Thea, Thea." 

"Thea," says Videl slowly, in a low, warning voice, "Come over here." 

I scarcely hear him. Instead, I run over to Loki and throw my arms around his chest. There is something hard, something cold about him that I can't place, but for the moment, I don't care. I feel Loki's hand on my chin, raising my face and neck up towards him...

"THEA! LOOK OUT!" 

I scarcely move in time. If I hadn't, Loki's dagger would have slit my throat. 

I stumble back from Loki, falling down to the ground at his feet. I feel like all of my insides have been torn out individually and then burned. 

"Wh...what..." I whisper, staring up at him. 

And then, he's upon me again. I shriek, and hear Videl and Angelique shouting as Loki hurls me against the wall, nearly knocking the wind out of me. I react with all of the instincts that have been driven in me, kicking out and twisting up, avoiding the dagger in Loki's hand. It's deadly, wicked blade comes so close to my face, and to my neck, I can feel the coolness of the silver metal near my skin.

Loki swings around in time to strike Videl in the shoulders as the Velah has tried to attack him, fangs bared. I gasp as Loki takes my wrist with my dagger in it, and then snaps it back. I hear a crack, and then cry out as my hand now hangs limply, and a shooting pain reverberates up my arm. 

I manage to keep ahold of my dagger though, and stagger away from Loki, but he kicks me down, leaning over me, the blade near my neck. I whimper, and push up. In the process, I move his hair away from his eyes for the first time. 

I scream. 

His eyes are no longer green. They're silver. Precisely the same silver color as Neidra's eyes, but these eyes are glazed and almost unseeing. Unseeing, except for the fact that they are trying to help Loki kill his own daughter. 

"NO!" I shriek, "NO, NO, NO, SHE DIDN'T! SHE DIDN'T!" 

Loki doesn't seem to hear me, and the distant yells of Videl and Angelique are only distant in my ears. I only see my father in front of me, his eyes a sickening silver, and filled with murder. 

Tears running down my face, I kick violently at Loki, but I feel my kicks grow weaker and weaker as he wears me out. Finally, he pushes me completely onto the ground, barring my chest with his arm, and then raises his dagger. 

I see the blade rise above me, and my tears blur the horrible apparition in front of me. Still struggling, my wrist in agony, but not in as my agony as my heart, I sob out one word, one word out of desperation and a breaking heart. 

"Daddy..."

He hesitates, and I see something flicker in his eyes...green?

But then, Loki is knocked away, thrown roughly to the ground. Before I can react, Videl has grabbed me by the shoulder, hoisted up my backpack, and dragged me away from Loki. He shouts something, and I'm vaguely aware of Angelique coming running toward towards us, her face twisted in confusion and worry. I'm vaguely aware of Videl shouting something at me, and I'm vaguely aware of Wairua's feathers near my face, but what I am only completely aware of is Loki on my bedroom floor, clutching his dagger as he stands unsteadily to his feet. 

When he looks back at me, his eyes are silver again. 

I clutch my own dagger and look right at him, praying to God and to Heaven that something will happen, a miracle, a something, a something. 

But the only thing that happens is that Loki vanishes in front of me in black smoke as Videl takes me away from my father, my father who is out to kill me.

Please VOTE and COMMENT! :) 

I sort of died a little.