“You think I’m just going to let this go,” she muttered into her hands. “You think I can let this go.” Summer stood up to place a hand on Loki’s arm. “Let me be your friend.”
Loki withdrew—not jerking back, but a calm step backwards.
“You have been very kind—your advice will serve me well. Thank you again for keeping Macrowafter out of the street.”
Summer’s shoulders sagged. “Gods /****/ it.” The temptation to force it out of him was so strong, bitter in her throat. But she was a hero. Wasn’t she.
“My sister set me to spy on you,” she said to his retreating back. The tonelessness of her voice was at stark odds with its intensity only a moment before. “I think I’ll go set her on fire.”
Keys, shoes, id … she didn’t bother to suit up, just stepped outside right after Loki. At least there’d be no trouble summoning her wings.
Loki stopped dead in his tracks and turned, face set in grim lines, blazing eyes on Summer’s face.
“And who, pray tell, is your sister?”
The half-formed wings, roaring with flame, collapsed into smoke. “SHIELD. She’s a SHIELD agent. The better twin.” A beat, then: “You deserved to know. She’s wrong.” There was still no inflection in her voice. “I won’t be used.”