oke hears a key inserted into his apartment door from the other side, then the door opens and admits the bruised, muddy form of Ilario, or Bleddyn, or whatever he’s calling himself. An eyebrow raises on the former man’s face as the man stepping through his door looks as though he’s been through a war zone. For a moment he is speechless, forgetting the little talk he had prepared for Ilario since the skinny Italian had been gone for over a day without telling him where he was going. Phaeton had charged Loke with looking after the possessed chef, after all, and if he caused any trouble it would be coming back on Loke. The shocking state of Bleddyn’s appearance, however, causes the other man to forget about all that.
Loke is further to see a young woman entering the apartment behind his roommate, stalking through the doorway with a confident catlike sway in her hips despite the fact that she is covered with splatters of mud and scratches, much like Ilario. Her wavy dark hair is pulled back into a ponytail away from her cute face with its round cheeks and large, innocent-looking chocolate-brown dark eyes. Her busty figure and long legs are accentuated by the tight black tank top she and short black shorts she is wearing with her muddy combat boots.
A sly smile is playing in the corner of the young woman’s pouty lips as looks Loke up and down approvingly. “I’m Annabelle,” she says in a sultry, low voice, “ I don’t know if Bleddyn mentioned me. I’m glad you’re finally here when I stop by, Loke.”