“Silly Minikins,” Loki mumbled, gazing at the kissing couple up the stairs. They were making out now; biting was only an appetizer. “Who believes in that lame true love fairy tale kiss?” Loki was leaning against the kitchen door with tensed up shoulders, hands in his pockets. He was trying his best to avoid the girl who’d spilled her drink on him minutes ago. “Why did they have to ban me here in a world where I don’t belong?” he sighed, staring upward, which he often did when he had no one to talk to. The ceiling never replied.
Another girl bumped into Loki, spilling her drink on him, too. She wore pink bunny ears and had a moustache drawn on her face. Loki closed his eyes and pursed his lips, swallowing his anger like a bitter pill, wondering why these Minikins couldn’t just leave him alone.
“I’m so sorry,” the girl said, poking her head out from under her boyfriend’s armpit. “I hope I didn’t ruin the party for you.”
Loki opened his eyes and lowered his head, then gazed at her with a fake smile on his face. He wanted to show her how irritated he was, but Charmwill Glimmer, his guardian, had told him he wasn’t allowed to express his anger toward the Minikins while he was in the Ordinary World. Loki had to pretend he liked them while in fact everything about Minikins seemed shallow and stupid.
“I couldn’t be happier,” Loki said; the smile still stamped on his face. In his mind, he imagined slapping her with frog legs across her cheeks until all she could say was bbblllrrr—Loki hated frogs, so he couldn’t think of a better punishment.
The girl with bunny ears checked out Loki from top to bottom. “Yummy,” she said, licking her strawberry-stained lips, unable to take her eyes off his outfit.
While everyone else was disguised as vampires, werewolves and fractured fairy tale characters, Loki wore a Scottish kilt, which made him look out of place. He didn’t care. He liked the kilt, and thought its absurdity reflected the idiocy surrounding him. His costume attracted the girls who deliberately spilled their drinks on him in order to start a conversation. Still, Loki never got the message. In this world, he was a stranger in a strange land.
“Why the kilt?” the latest girl inquired, shooing her boyfriend away. Loki took a step back. He wasn’t fond of girls, especially curious ones; in his experience, they usually were demons in disguise. He was told he was banned from Heaven because he loved a demon girl, so was he always on high alert.
“I am a vampire hunter,” Loki said, still plastering the fake smile on his lips.
“What do you hunt?” she asked again, eager to make conversation.
Loki couldn’t believe how dumb Minikins were. “Beetles,” Loki tilted his head, wondering why she didn’t laugh and leave him be. He’d been unshadowed for almost a year now, and if there was one thing he’d learned about Minikins it was that they hardly ever picked up on verbal signs. You talk politely to some, hinting that you want to be left alone, and they just never get it.
“Ah, sorry, I drank too much tonight,” the girl dressed as a bunny said. “But you’re funny…and cute. I didn’t know vampire hunters wore kilts.”
“I hide my stake underneath it. It’s my secret trick,” he winked at her.
Now, please go.
It was true. Loki had even told the bouncer at the door that he was hiding a stake underneath the kilt. The big man had laughed at what he thought was Loki’s sarcastic joke. It frustrated Loki when the Minikins didn’t take him seriously, even if it had helped him fool the bouncer and enter the party with his hidden stake.
Loki wasn’t there to celebrate true love kisses or document the Minikins’ preposterous behaviors, lives, love, parties or otherwise. He had one thing on his mind; to stake the vampire he was hired to kill, grab some cash to pay for school, and get a bit closer to finishing off the ninety-nine vampires he had to kill before his sixteenth birthday. Today’s vampire was going to be number thirty-eight.
“Stake? You got a stake under the kilt?” the girl’s eyes shone brighter, taking a step closer.
“Hit the road, or I’ll rip your ears off,” another girl, wearing a latex outfit making her look like a devil, interrupted. She sneered at the girl with bunny ears and pushed her away. It was Lucy Rumpelstein, the girl who hired Loki to kill the vampire tonight. “He’s mine,” Lucy grinned, pursing her heart shaped lips. The bunny girl showed displeasure at the interruption, but walked away immediately.
Somehow, Lucy had a messed up idea about fairy tales, which led to her wearing the devil costume. It was an expensive one, with horns and white fur with silver sequins around her neck. Loki thought she was as weird as the rest, but he didn’t mind when it meant an opportunity to kill another vampire.
“You know it’s never a good idea to tell a girl that you have a stake under your kilt,” Lucy mocked Loki, handing him a drink. “Stake under the kilt? What were you thinking?” she rolled her eyes. “You sound like you’re from another planet,” Lucy laughed while Loki put the drink away.
“Whatever this drink is, it tastes weird,” Loki said, “kinda salty.”
“I’ve never tried it. The bartender said it’s called Baby Tears. It sounded cool so I thought I’d grab you one.”
“Thanks for pretending to be my date.”