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satanslittlegirl0626 · 2 years

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Dance With The Devil (1)

Pairing: mafia!Loki x f!reader (any race)

WC: 4.4k

Summary: Your world turns upside down, but this is only the beginning.

Warnings: kidnapping, fear, swearing, violence

A/N: Yay first chapter!! I can't wait for y'all to read it :) please let me know what you think <3 Some dialogue is taken from the movie. beta'd by the amazing @purpleshallot :))) happy birthday my dear!!!

series masterlist | main masterlist | script | fic playlist

chapter 2

You have always preferred fairytales to real life. True love’s first kiss, fate, all of it. Not to be cliché, but it’s been your escape. From a young age, you found yourself wrapped up in worlds full of magic. Of happily ever afters and fairy godmothers.

As an adult, you still retreat into those stories for comfort. On difficult days, you lose yourself to mystical places, wishing you could be there, living those lives. You find it cruel, really, to open the door to other worlds like that and not let the dreamers in.

Today, the fall air is crisp and fresh as you board the bus after class. Leaves the color of fire fall from the trees and onto the street, crunching under people’s feet as they walk past. You lean your head against the window and pull out one of your favorite books. You always find yourself returning to it, no matter what happens in your life. You’ve read it so many times you have it memorized by now. The story takes you far away from New York to a place with deadly sword fights, disguised princes, and magic.

As you turn the page, your heart tugs in your chest, finding yourself at your favorite part of the book. The unassuming and quiet princess meets the prince for the first time. He falls for her instantly, but she doesn’t know who he is, as he’s disguised as a commoner.

It’s easy to get wrapped up in the story, but when your phone buzzes in your pocket, you know you need to check it. You scroll through a few work emails, planning responses in your head when you realize what time it is.

You continue looking at the screen, expecting to see a text from your father that he got home from physical therapy safely. He should’ve been back at least 15 minutes ago.

But there’s no text, no phone call, nothing. Your heartbeat speeds up, you can hear blood rushing in your ears. You try to calm your nerves, telling yourself that maybe his phone died, and he forgot. Your father has always been a little bad with tech. There’s probably nothing wrong.

You repeat the words to yourself the entire commute home, unable to focus on the story that had captivated you just a few moments ago. You keep whispering them over and over as you walk up the cracked steps to your house. You even say them as you search the place for your father.

Your mind goes silent when you find the house completely empty and your father’s cell phone on the ground, the screen shattered.

Shit.

Your head spins as you try to figure out what to do. This isn’t like your father. He’s never disappeared before. He would never go somewhere without leaving at least a note on the fridge or the counter.

After a few deep breaths, you pull out your phone and call 911.

“911, what is your emergency?” You barely hear the words leave your mouth as you rattle off your name, address, and the fact that your father is suddenly missing. You tell the dispatcher when the last time you had seen your father was and that you found his phone cracked on the ground.

The dispatcher stays on the line with you, but you don’t pay attention to what she says, instead staring at your father’s spot at the dinner table, a newspaper folded just the way he likes beside a cup of coffee, long gone cold. He always insists on having one in the morning, even though he hates the taste.

A few minutes later, a police cruiser pulls up to your house, lights on but no siren. You scramble out of the house and through the front door and find Griffin, your friend from Undergrad, leaning against the car casually.

He’s dressed in his police uniform, pressed and without wrinkles, but as you get closer, you can see the bags under his eyes. Knowing him, he probably was out late last night drinking. He’s always been that type. Even since graduation and getting a job, nothing’s changed.

Griffin has always been around, even when you didn’t want him to be. Him and his deep brown eyes that are always watching over you with a protectiveness that never seems to fade.

“Hey, Griff,” you say quickly, eyes shooting around the block for any sign of your father. Everything looks normal as if your world hadn’t been turned upside down.

Griffin scrutinizes you; the heat in his gaze is evident to you, and you try to shrink away from it. You know he’s always had a thing for you, but you pretend not to notice just like you always do. You’re too busy, too preoccupied with literally everything, to get into a relationship with him or anyone else for that matter.

“So your dad didn’t come home?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest as if this were a regular conversation between the two of you.

“It’s more than that,” you snap, noticing they only sent one officer. Why wasn’t he with his partner? Why did he come alone? “Where’s your partner? Is he out looking for Papa?” The childhood name for your father slips so easily from your lips that you wouldn’t have noticed it had Griffin not made a face.

“No, it’s just me on this right now. I wanted to check it out before we declared him missing.” Anger bubbles in your chest, but you shove it down. Being angry won’t help right now. You need to focus. That’s the only thing that will help your father.

“Okay, where should we start?”

Griffin explains how a missing person case works, and you nod along with him, trying to make sense of it all. Your father has no enemies that you know of, no one that would wish harm upon him.

As you go through this with Griffin, your eyes wander away from him and over to the houses around you. It’s possible someone saw something; maybe they just didn’t know what they were seeing.

You cock your head, noticing your neighbor across the street has a camera above their doorbell. You start walking to the house, not bothering to explain your action to Griffin. He follows, though, seeming to understand.

To your surprise, your neighbor is more than willing to share the footage with you and the police. She brings out her laptop and rewinds the video until Griffin tells her to stop. Your hands shake as she plays it.

In the grainy video, you see a black van pull up outside your house. Four men dressed in black jump out and walk straight into your home. You know for a fact you’d locked it that morning. How did they get in?

It’s surreal. It’s like a movie. A terrible, shitty movie about men breaking into your house and kidnapping your father. The trees blow in the wind, a bird lands on the pavement, and everyone keeps moving like nothing is happening in the house.

A few moments later, the men emerge from the house, dragging your father between them. He’s fighting back as best he can, but he can’t do much in his weakened condition.

You want to scream, you want to throw up, you want to rewind time and make it so none of this ever happened.

The video has no sound, but you can only imagine his calls for help. How they went unanswered.

Griffin thanks your neighbor after getting a copy of the footage and walks you back to his cruiser. Your legs feel like jelly, unable to support the weight of everything any longer.

“Grab whatever you need for the next few hours and come with me,” he instructs, voice tight. “We’re gonna find your dad.”

When you arrive with Griffin at the police station, you’re surprised by the lack of urgency the other officers give to your father’s disappearance. Is this not important to them?

Griffin lets you sit at his desk while he shows a few people the video, trying to see what people know. The police station feels hospital-like. People rush around, calling out odd codes and names while you sit in the middle of the chaos. Everything smells like the floor cleaner they use. It burns your nose.

For a while, you scroll through your phone aimlessly, not really sure what you’re looking for before putting it away and reading your book instead.

You finally reach chapter 3. The princess has just discovered the true identity of the prince. The words make your heart flutter despite the noise and disorder surrounding you. You manage to lose yourself in the pages, the world around you fading away.

The prince holds the princess close, cupping her cheek in his hand. They stare lovingly into each other’s eyes, not yet knowing that they were meant to be. The universe had granted them the greatest gift of all, true love. You know what happens next, but that doesn’t stop your brain from coming up with all the ways they might be challenged in the future.

A hand clasps your shoulder, pulling you from the fairytale world and crashing you into reality. Griffin is at your side, a grim look on his face.

“What?” you ask quietly, not sure you want to hear what he’s found.

“Come with me.” He grabs your arm, tugging you up from the chair. Your book tumbles to the ground, but he doesn’t give you a chance to retrieve it. He guides you to an interrogation room and shuts the door behind him.

“What is going on?” you ask, ripping your arm from his grasp.

“I got an image of the license plate from the car your dad got into.” You want to interrupt and correct Griffin. Your father didn’t “get into” the car, he was kidnapped and shoved, but you keep your mouth shut. “I tracked it to a few fake identities, but I finally found something solid. All these fake guys work for the same very real mafia family. The Laufeyson family has a pretty big presence around here, and I think they’re the ones who have your dad.”

The mafia? No way. You shake your head, and Griffin gives you a pitying look. You hate it.

“Papa would never get involved with the mafia. He has no reason to. Even when he stopped working, we had enough money for treatments, his inventions always made enough…” your voice trails off when you think of the past few months. How stressed your father had seemed, the odd phone calls, you’d thought nothing of them at the time. But now…

“Look, your dad was sick and desperate. He probably thought he had no other option.” You hate how he talks about your father in the past tense as if he’s already gone.

“Where is he?” you ask before you can spiral into what-ifs and hypotheticals.

“I’ve got an address. There’s no promising it’s where he is, though.” You nod, and Griffin hands you a scrap of paper, an address scrawled messily on it. “We’ll go tomorrow morning. Right now, you need to lie low in case they’re looking for you.” You roll your eyes and scoff. Does he really expect you to wait until tomorrow?

He’s an idiot if he thinks that.

Griffin drives you back to your house and gives you an awkwardly long hug before getting back in his car and leaving. For a guy that claims to care about you so much, he has a funny way of showing it.

You quickly gather some belongings, unsure how long you’ll be gone, and put the address Griff gave you into your phone. It’s far, too far for you to commute or bike. You don’t have a car, so you decide to call an Uber despite the cost. It’ll be worth it to find your father.

The car arrives after 10 minutes, but honestly, it felt like hours. Every moment that passes, every second that goes by, feels like an eternity being stuck in the unknown. Not knowing what he’s going through.

Your driver is friendly enough, though as he gets closer to the address, he gets more and more cagey.

Your phone buzzes, and you spare a glance down at it, seeing that Griffin has texted you a few times.

Lmk if you need anything

You wanna get dinner? I got off early.

Hello? Whyre you ignoring me?

You groan inwardly at the messages. Griffin has never been the romantic type, and clearly, nothing has changed since the last time he asked you out. You don’t bother responding, tucking your phone in your pocket as you stare out the window.

The car comes to a stop before arriving at your desired destination. Your driver explains that he can’t go further than this, so you climb out of the car and thank him anyway, tipping even though he didn’t take you where you wanted.

In the distance, you see a giant gated mansion on top of a hill. Without even looking at your phone, you know that’s where you need to go. The place looks straight out of a movie; of course, it’s where the bad guys live.

You make the trip on foot, watching out for anyone suspicious. The gate around the house is tall, but you scale it somewhat quickly, surprising yourself with your newfound upper-body strength.

The sun has set by the time you’re crossing the well-kept lawn, chilling you to your core. You carefully creep around the house’s perimeter, looking for a way in. You find a window cracked open and are stunned at your luck.

The window slides open easily, and you slip through the opening, finding yourself in a large sitting room. The plush carpet dampens your footsteps, making you nearly silent as you creep through the room.

As you push open the door to the hallway, you lock eyes with a man down the corridor. You freeze, unable to move away even as you will your feet to move. The man doesn’t call for help, though. Instead, he tilts his head as if to get a better look at you.

He steps toward you, then furrows his brow, thinking better of it. You wait for his next move with bated breath.

“Your father,” he whispers, eyes darting around, probably watching for other people. “Go upstairs.” With that, he turns on his heel and walks in the opposite direction, seemingly content with pretending he never saw you.

How did he know you’re here for your father? They must not get many visitors that arrive on good terms; maybe this is a common occurrence?

You wait an agonizing few minutes until you’re sure the coast is clear before you dart to the staircase he’d gestured to.

The mansion is more extensive than it appeared from the outside, and you only realize the size as you climb the sweeping stairs to an upper level of the house. Corridors filled with doors leading to different rooms catch your attention, but you know that you must look for any sign of your father and avoid getting lost in the maze of the home.

A chill runs through you as you pass through the house. Even though you’ve seen signs of life here, it feels like a museum. It doesn’t feel like a home. No one really lives here; they just pass through. Existing and moving on.

As you reach the top of the stairs, you hear him. Your father coughs after every other word, barely getting the sounds out. He sounds so weak.

“Please, someone,” he groans quietly before breaking into another fit of coughs. You practically run down the hall until you reach a room at the very end, the door cracked slightly open. Not caring if anyone sees you, you push the door open to reveal your father.

Bile rises in your throat at the sight of him.

He’s tied tightly to a pole in the center of the room, hands cuffed behind his back around the bar, and feet bound at his ankles. From what you’ve seen, the rest of the house has hardwood or carpet. This room has concrete floors.

This room was built for pain, for bloodshed.

Even in the darkness of the room, you can see bruises bloom around his eyes and on his cheeks. Blood splatters on the ground. You can only imagine the pain he’d been through before your arrival.

Your father must not have heard or seen you come in because he continues to whisper his pleas.

“Papa,” you say gently as you cross the room and crouch in front of him. You place your hands on both sides of his face; he is so cold against your skin. “Papa, I’m here.”

Your father’s eyes open as far as they can with the swelling, but he finally sees you. “Oh, my, how did you find me?” he croaks. You shake your head, reaching around to see how his hands are cuffed. You hold one of his hands in yours and wince at the temperature.

“Your hands are like ice,” you whisper, returning your attention to his face. “We have to get you out of here.” Your father shakes his head, even though the action appears to pain him.

“Please, I want you to leave this place,” he begs, desperation lacing his voice.

You ignore his words, focusing on trying to undo the binds on his feet. “Who did this to you?”

“There is no time to explain,” he urges, “you have to go. Now!” You sit back on your heels and stare at your father in disbelief.

“I won’t leave you!” Your tone is harsh, but you don’t understand why he wants you to leave him behind.

Suddenly, someone grabs your shoulder, pulling you away from your father with incredible strength. You scramble out of their grasp and back to your father, unable to catch a glimpse of the person that grabbed you before they slip into the shadows.

“What are you doing here?” the person, a man, asks harshly, spitting the words at you.

“Run,” your father groans fearfully. You search your father’s face for something, anything, to help you through this.

You spin around, pressing your back against your father in an attempt to protect him from the new man.

“Who are you?” you ask the man cloaked in shadow.

“Who are you?” the man asks in response, his words sharp and deadly.

“I’ve come for my father. Please let him out; can’t you see he’s sick?” you reply, voice even and calm, not showing how terrified you are.

“Your father is a thief. He owes me.”

You shake your head; he must be lying. “But he could die. Please, I’ll do anything!” Desperation creeps into your voice, but you hold firm. You want to cry, you want to scream, but you don’t. You won’t, not until your father is safe.

“There’s nothing you can do. He’s my prisoner.” The words are swift, his tongue like a whip.

“There must be some way I can–” You turn back to face your father, searching his face for the answers. “Take me instead!” It takes everything in you to pull your eyes away from your father and face the shadowed man.

“You? You would take his place?” He sounds unsure, troubled by what you’ve proposed. As if you’ve caught him off guard.

Your father struggles against the binds, trying to grab onto you. “No! You don’t know what you’re doing!” Even though it pains you, you don’t look back.

“If I did, would you let him go?” You can’t see his face, but you can tell the man is mulling over his choices. He holds your life in his fingers.

“Yes, but you must promise to stay here forever.” Your heart sinks, but you know that it is for the best that you take your father’s place. He has access to the money you’ve been making, to his treatment services, everything. It would be easier with you there, but you know he’ll be able to care for himself until he finds a caretaker.

As anger burns inside your chest, you stare at the shadowed man in front of you. You want to see the man forcing you and your father into this fate. You want to look him in the eye as he sentences you to death at his hand.

“Come into the light,” you whisper, barely able to form the words. The man doesn’t move for a moment, but after a breath, he steps forward and into the light cast from the window.

Your eyes widen as you take him in. He’s tall, towering over you like a mountain. His black hair is slicked back in the front, though a piece has fallen out of place and covers one of his eyes. Dressed in an all-black suit, the man looks as though he is made of the shadows that had just been concealing him. Bright eyes stare down at you as if they can see right through you.

“No,” your father says, sputtering and coughing. “No, I won’t let you do this!”

It’s as if you’re in a trance. You can’t break your eyes away from the man in front of you. “You have my word.” The promise slips from your lips as if not yours.

The man cocks his head, grinning slyly. “It is done.”

All it takes is a quick knock on the door behind him, and the man has summoned two more people to the room.

They rush in, moving you aside and grabbing your father. You try to catch him, to hug him, to just let him know that everything will be okay, but the raven-haired man grabs your arms and pulls you away, holding you against his chest. One arm brackets around your front while the other covers your mouth, muffling your yelling.

You struggle against him, willing him to just let you say goodbye, but your efforts are futile.

It doesn’t take long for the two men to drag your father away. You can’t help but feel like you’ll never see him again. The feeling lodges itself deep in your gut, making you feel a heaviness like you’ve never experienced before.

When it is just you and the raven-haired man left in the room, he releases you. You crumple to the floor, finally allowing your tears to fall freely. The ground is cold and hard beneath you as you wet it with your tears.

The raven-haired man says nothing for a long time, letting the sound of your sobs echo between the walls.

When your throat is dry, and you have no tears left in your body, he moves to stand in front of you instead of behind you.

“Come,” he says curtly as if speaking to a dog.

You shake your head, holding it in your hands. “You didn’t even let me say goodbye. I’ll never see him again.” Finally, you look up at the man. Fury rips through your veins. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

If the man feels bad or feels any remorse, he doesn’t reveal it. “I’ll show you to your room.”

His words take you by surprise. You hadn’t thought this far ahead. Is he going to give you a room? It wouldn’t have shocked you if he’d just told you to sleep in this torture room. “My room? But I thought–”

“You want to stay here? In this… cell?” he asks, tilting his head. The faint light from the window makes his eyes shine. You search his face for any trace of emotion but find nothing. His blue eyes stay trained on you, his lips pressed into a line.

“No,” you reply, annoyance clear from your tone. That earns you the smallest of smirks. His right eye ticks. He must not like being on the receiving end of an attitude. Well, he better get used to it.

“Then follow me.” The raven-haired man doesn’t help you stand. He doesn’t provide you any support as you wobble on weak legs. He just stands by the door, waiting for you to catch up.

You walk a few steps behind the man, following him like a shadow as he guides you through the corridors. He points to different doors, other paths through the home, but you don’t really hear him.

It’s like you’re underwater; everything is muted and warped. Your thoughts spin through your head, and you’re barely able to process them as they fly past. It all happened so quickly, you’d acted without thinking through all the possible outcomes, and now you’re stuck here alone forever.

The man comes to a stop in front of a pair of ornate wooden doors. He stares down at the handles, but you stare at him. He’s yet to tell you anything about him; he is a mystery to you.

“You are to never step foot in the west wing,” he says through gritted teeth, shifting his eyes toward you. “Do I make myself clear?”

You take a shaky breath and look at the carvings on the door. They seem to tell a story, but before you get a chance to look for the start, you find yourself speaking. “What’s in there?”

“It’s forbidden.” You flinch back from his harsh tone, dropping your eyes to the floor.

The man turns away from the door and guides you down a new hallway. You notice more art hung on the walls in this area, lots of classics. Your heart tugs when you see some familiar paintings; it’s barely a comfort, but it’s something.

“If there is anything you need,” he says, pushing open the door to a bedroom, “my people will attend to you.” The room is simple, with only a bed, a dresser, and a vanity, but it looks clean from what you can tell.

He doesn’t wait for you to get settled, doesn’t even tell you where the kitchen or anything else is. The second you step into the room, he shuts the door with a thud.

You barely make it to the bed before your legs give out. You throw yourself onto the blankets and pillows, a sobbing heap as you come apart.

You don’t care how loud you’re being. You don’t care that the man might be standing outside listening. Your sobs rip through you, releasing emotions you haven’t felt in ages. This is bigger than just your father, bigger than being trapped in the home of a man you’ve never met before.

It’s only the beginning.

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Series Tags: @huntress-artemiss @buckysteveloki-me @raelorns21 @yukiartistz @sarhabee @apollonshootafar

General Tags: @searchf0rtheskyline @writerwrites @late-to-the-party-81 @jobean12-blog @prettylittlepluviophile @prettywhenicry4

#loki laufeyson #loki x f!reader #loki #loki fanfic

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satanslittlegirl0626 · 2 years

Note

I’m obsessed with Levi, absolutely smitten. Thank you for sharing him with us.

If you feel up to it could we get a snippet of someone maybe a rival vampire trying to plant doubts in Levi about the reader. Maybe accusing them of cheating on him and using him, only for Levi to laugh in their face because he knows how devoted and loyal they are to each other.

Just like the opposite of the miscommunication trope. Please and thank you🥺👉👈

I'm so happy you like Levi ^_^ This is just a little thing, but I thought it turned out cute and it's nice to do something lighter after the last one omg :D

Vampire (Levi) x female mom reader

Word Count: 1k

W: sfw vampire fluff

“Ugh,” Levi’s cousin Ivan and leader of his clan in Russia grimaced looking down at Meryl over his glass of blood, “don’t you have a nanny?”

Levi nudged him away from the baby sleeping peacefully in the crib he’d put in his office so she could be nearby. He’d wanted to give you a spa day and he knew you weren’t yet comfortable with the nanny, so he happily offered to keep his favorite cinnamon roll with him.

He also wanted you out of the house when his cousin arrived. He didn’t like males seeing you and he knew how frivolous vampire’s could be. Their lives were long and got boring, rare jewels intrigued them, if only for a time. He’d sent you surrounded by a handful of Amazonian vampire bodyguards, so he felt confident no one would bother you.

“(Y/N) and I have decided to keep her caretakers to a minimum,” he said, “she’s already been exposed to so many different germs and people, there’s no reason to add anymore.”

Ivan snorted.

“So she’s got you babysitting her brat?! Cousin, are you a fool?”

Of course in his time, the idea of a vampire Clan lord carrying around an infant was preposterous, let alone one that was not his son, specifically. Many vampire mothers immediately gave their children to wet nurses so they wouldn’t look weak carrying a drooling baby around.

Levi growled at his cousin, prompting him to lower his voice so as not to wake the baby.

Ivan hissed lightly back, his eyes flashing. Vampire lords didn’t like being told what to do.

“Who is this trollop anyway?” he snapped, though a bit quieter, “I’ve never seen you so wrapped around anyone’s finger.”

Levi looked a little wistful.

“Just an angel I came across in a fish store,” he murmured, his eyes resting fondly on Meryl.

Ivan raised an eyebrow.

“Fish…store…? And you’ve taken in her bastard? You’re babysitting it? Levi, I know losing Karen must have been hard but-”

Levi’s face hardened and his voice boomed.

“Don’t say her name in my presence!” he snarled.

Meryl cooed that she was waking up and started to whimper realizing she was alone. Levi looked distraught and hurried over to her, picking her up and bouncing her in his arm.

“I’m sorry baby bat, did I wake you?” he cooed, and she gave him a gummy smile, doing her “daddy is picking me up” dance in his hand.

Something about the happiness on Levi’s face when he looked at Meryl and how innocently she completely trusted him incensed Ivan.

“This is absurd Levi. No one can be this happy! How do you know she doesn’t have some lover on the side and she’s just using you? Tugging a vampire lord on a leash?! She’s probably making another one of those things right now! Aren’t you concerned with how this makes the family look?!”

Levi tipped Meryl’s head to his chest so she couldn’t see before he bared his fangs, transforming his face into a more animal version of itself as a warning.

“Now you sound absurd, cousin,” he ground out, more offended that he’d say such a thing in front of his darling baby than taking it seriously, “(Y/N) is a devoted mother and wife. I won't listen to you slandering her in front of our child.”

Ivan snorted and crossed his leg with annoyance, spinning his blood around.

“Goddess, modern romance is so disgusting,” he retorted, turning his face away from the tooth achingly sweet sight of Levi tossing Meryl in the air to make her giggle, “If it were me, I’d never see the thing.”

“That’s why you’re a cold, lonely bastard,” Levi chuckled, “and I have a warm, beautiful family.”

Ivan rolled his eyes.

“Until she backstabs you like your mother,” he snapped.

Levi growled more loudly.

“I told you not to mention her,” he snapped, flipping Meryl over his shoulder by one foot so she wouldn’t see his anger and making her laugh out loud.

“Ugggggh,” Ivan let out the longest groan ever at her pure joy as Levi pulled her back to his chest and found her one of the toys strewn on his desk to play with.

“I’m back my loves!” you sighed as you walked into Levi’s office and breezed past the vampire sitting in one of Levi’s overstuffed chairs. You tossed your purse lazily on his desk, then tipped up on your toes and gave Levi a kiss, then smooched Meryl.

“Feel my face,” you beamed, taking his hand and putting it on your freshly worked over skin, “they did some kind of laser thing to it! It’s super soft!”

He grinned down at you, taking the opportunity to circle your cheek with his fingers. Maybe it was softer than normal, it always felt soft to him, but he was happy you wanted him to touch you. You'd been seeking out his touch more and more, each time delighting him more than the last.

A bit of a tug in the back of your mind reminded you the other vampire was still there and you glanced over your shoulder at him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” you asked, looking him over. He looked a bit like Levi, as well, but with wheat blonde hair cropped short and bright blue eyes.

“Uh…this is my cousin, Ivan,” Levi said with as little enthusiasm as possible, “he’s in town for the wedding.”

He was eager to see you since you’d been gone all morning, but he still didn’t like males looking at you, disappointed your spa treatment ended early. For Ivan’s part his mouth dropped and his eyes grew big. He hopped up from the chair and crossed the room, looming over you.

He took your hand and gave it a kiss, smiling down at you with the eyes of a predator behind baby blue irises almost flashing green with envy.

“Levi told me many things about you and I thought he was exaggerating, but he wasn’t lying when he said you are truly lovely. Now I think I understand his fascination. I look forward to seeing more of you, my dear,” Ivan purred, “Levi loves to throw parties so I’m sure there will be plenty of occasions for us to get more acquainted.”

You blinked up at him and extracted your hand from his.

“Er...good to meet you,” you said, wondering if it was a generational gap thing that made him sound so weird to you. Many of Levi's vampires had odd dialects hinting to their time of origin.

Levi bared his teeth and handed Meryl to you, practically shoving his cousin from the room.

“I’ll see you later, cousin!” he growled, slamming the door behind him.

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