"Did I, now?" Loki keeps his gaze on the horizon; if he looks away and then the building, he doesn't know, disappears or some other unplanned esoteric nonsense she'll blame him for that too, certainly. "And why would I? Why would I pick you, and here? Why not a glittering orgy with a buffet and several dozen courtesans? A party of some sort. That, at least, would be some semblance of fun."

Not that fucking her wasn't fun, on several levels, but it is different. He doubts she'll believe him either way.

You're dead, she says, and he snorts in annoyance but does look at her, albeit only briefly. "Yes, I know. I was there, just like every other time." He sucks his teeth. "Not certain if it just hasn't stuck or if something else has happened.

Should I presume, then, that you are also dead? Or do you not know?"