You know... One of these days Loki is going to win. He is going to win and all of Midgard will be very sorry they messed with him.
He grunted when the knife penetrated his side, it would seem Coulson had nicked his stomach because he could feel blood working its way up his esophagus. Spitting it onto the floor he rose to his feet, Aesir or not he was still a god and his body will heal. His rage on the other hand is at a dangerous peak.
He concentrates and in his open hand a ball of energy begins to gather. Now wasn't the time for tricks, he needed action.
"come out, come out little man." The god said, poison dripping from his silver tongue.
He can hear the scrabbling in the alcove and launches the ball at the broken man with a satanic roar. The time for games is over now, Coulson best run while he has the chance.