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Her driver’s license read Lyra but that was just a name she’d chosen out of convenience, something that had struck her fancy ten years back and stuck because of that. At least as far as a human name went. She still preferred Loki to Lyra, even if Lyra had a certain similar sound to another word that appealed to her.

She impatiently tapped her wrist against the steering wheel as the two cops glanced at the picture and back at her. Their confusion was understandable, the girl in the image only bore some resemblance to her current appearance. Being dark haired to her pale blonde. “I dyed it a couple weeks ago.”

No dye could look as natural as hers did but she wasn’t going to quibble over a detail as minor as that. Her gaze slipped upwards to study her reflection. Not a speck of makeup anywhere on her face but she’d chosen her current look to not need powder and mascara. Her eye color on the other hand, a cat’s green gold still appealed to her. If there was anything she didn’t do, it was being ordinary.

Her brother would have chided her on her choice but he was busy with his own affairs. This was her choice alone. No one else could have made it for her.

The cops on the other hand, she was beginning to think that they needed a trick or two played upon them just for the sheer inconvenience of holding her up. That was the purpose of being a shapeshifter after all. To be a trickster.

It only occasionally ended with the death of the poor sod. Killing wasn’t the name of the game unless they were stubborn enough not to listen to the lesson she attempted to teach them. “I’m nineteen, officer. What’s taking so long to look over my driver’s license?”

If she had been thirteen physically, maybe then she would have understood their reluctance but not when she was nineteen. More than that in truth but no one would have believed that the ‘teenager’ they saw was actually closer to a thousand. What did age matter? Her brother was at least five thousand. Their father’s first child.

“Lyra Fenris… dotter?” The man passed the plastic card back to her with a skeptical look. “Fine, whatever. Welcome to New York.”

Loki snorted, leaning back in her seat. “Fenrisdottir, not dotter. I don’t take markers and color in little circles on sheets of paper. It’s Icelandic.”

A bit out of her way in truth but it was close enough that she wasn’t going to complain about Finnish versus Icelandic. Her father had traveled both countries for more than a thousand years. And just for the trouble she’d gotten for today, any trick at all would be worth it. “I’m meeting my brother later.”

The first of the two cops nodded and took a step back from the car.  “Alright then. Go on.”

Loki smiled briefly, hearing the distinctive pop of all four tires on the police car as they burst. Followed soon by the louder bang of the engine backfiring. A little inconvenience for the police couldn’t hurt anyone after all. It made the later prospect of tricking folk more pleasant.