The Second Born Curses- A Winterborn Series

Teamwork Really Isn't My Style

I finally made it to Stuttgart with a lot of energy to spare. It was night-time now, I paused by a building to watch the square where my search had led me. It was very pretty at night. Large water fountains spouting water high into the darken sky, neon lights reflecting onto the spray. I have visited Stuttgart once but never really had the chance to see the sights, just as I didn't have time to see them now as hordes of people ran out from the event that had been running in honour of a valuable piece of art being donated to the museum... at least I think it was a museum. It could have been some kind of special German project. I didn't know; I don't really speak German.

Yeah, I know. What kind of spy doesn't learn languages? I can tell you that one easily: one that never went to school properly. I only went to high school, undercover to flush out a highly dangerous criminal.

People always commented that I looked older than twenty-four. I think it was because they were looking at my eyes, the eyes of my mother. I don't really remember my mother all that much, but Clint clearly did as he got this tortured look within his vibrant blue orbs. I once asked him about our parents.

My brother was vague about the whole thing, telling me that they were bad people who couldn't take care of the two of us no more. That they were bad people for not even bothering to put us in an orphanage themselves. I remember only that they had abandoned us in... No, I had no time to wander down memory lane. Clint didn't have time for me to reminisce.

My eyes searched through the crowd for the cause of the fear and distress of the throng of panicked Germans, also for the slight chance that my brother could be amongst them. I saw nothing of Clint- not even a hair or bow of him- but I did see his kidnapper.

At that moment, I really wanted to make him pay, pull him asunder for his crimes. He was dressed in a black overcoat with a green scarf wrapped around his neck, a suit of sorts underneath the overcoat. In his hand was the spear, it began to glow brightly.

Before my very eyes, his clothes disappeared into the armour he had arrived in albeit, he now had a helmet of gold with, what looked to be bull's horns growing out of them. Long and lengthy, they were sharp enough to penetrate a man's body if he decided to ram somebody. I surely hoped he wouldn't try to do that. Loki sauntered arrogantly down the steps, looking slightly irritated when people didn't do as he ordered.

"Kneel before me."

Eyes grew wide as I gaped when twelve other Loki's appeared, surrounding the flood of Germans. They all looked like him but some of them gave a slightest flicker, suggesting that it was an illusion.

I've seen this type of illusion before, they had called it astral projection. A special mechanism that allowed the person's subconscious to flow to a projection in time and space, thus making another, well, them. The real Loki stepped between two of his projections, slamming his sceptre down on the ground.

"I said. Kneel!" he shouted, causing the Germans to swallow their fear and kneel, bowing their heads. Disgusted, I leaned against the fountain, shaking my head.

He's just a big bully from out of space! Stand up to him! my rebellious mind screamed at them; I kept my mouth sealed shut. It would do no good endangering them by speaking up and ordering them around.

"Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, and identity." My heart jolted at the words 'identity' and, 'humanity'. I saw something in Loki's eyes from where I stood, hiding in the shadows.

My breath hitched as I caught sadness in the depths of his emerald gaze, displaying a slight glimpse of humanity within them. As quickly as the emotion had come, it was gone and went back to being a cold icy blue, the same shade as his sceptre.