by Juniper Hart
Laurel felt as though this was the way her ancestors had lived, simply and removed from the chaos of the world as it was now.
Maybe Preston was right. Maybe living in the wilderness is exactly where we’re supposed to be. We were all here once.
The thought was as unsettling as it was exciting.
Preston and Laurel shared the back seat, a suitcase between them, but for once, his nearness didn’t affect her as it did every time she’d seen him in the lab. Perhaps it was the endless bumps of the road or the seemingly unending drive but after a while, Laurel found herself extremely uncomfortable.
Are we there yet? she wanted to demand several times but she stopped herself from calling out like a whining child. When the lodging finally did appear, Laurel gasped in disbelief.
“That’s it?” Laurel cried, unable to keep the displeasure from her voice as the rickety caravan came to halt outside something that resembled a shipping container that had been dropped from the sky and plopped in the middle of the Hornstrandir Nature Reserve. The structure had no windows and while it was large, possibly the size of two joint containers, it was hardly what Laurel had in mind when she’d agreed to be a Sleeper.
This just keeps getting better and better, Laurel thought with so much horror, she almost laughed aloud.
“Were you expecting a mansion?” Anatoli asked innocently, climbing from the passenger seat to stride toward the structure. There was nothing else that represented civilization in their midst, not a house, a barn, a farm. There was nothing but trees and the sound of water rushing nearby.
Like Anatoli would stay in anything like this if she had a choice, Laurel thought bitterly. She found herself wondering where her classmates had ended up. She was sure that they had houses, condos, apartments, regardless of where they were.
Does Anatoli hate us? Is this our punishment for something?
“It’s not so bad,” Preston said, joining Laurel beside the car. She hadn’t even realized that she’d stepped out of the vehicle. Suddenly, she wanted to crawl back inside and hide away, have Einar take her back to the city where she could find a hotel and sleep in a normal environment.
“It’s really out of the way,” Laurel mumbled irrelevantly. She’d already known that would be the reality but seeing it, being there, it was all a little overwhelming in the moment.
“That’s what makes it so perfect!” Preston insisted.
“Really?” Laurel asked in disdain, watching as Anatoli disappeared inside, leaving the door wide open for them to follow.
Does he really believe that or is he just trying to be optimistic?
She couldn’t help but question everything now.
“It must have everything we need,” he insisted. “And whatever it doesn’t have, we’ll find ourselves. It’ll be a project. It’s our first home.”
He grinned impishly at her and his smile won her over.
“Come on. Let’s go check it out.”
Begrudgingly, she followed him as he headed into the unit with their suitcases. There were still more in the car but they could wait for the moment.
At the doorway, Laurel paused again to take in the compact space. Her hopes sunk lower and lower as she looked around.
Fluorescent lighting hung from the steel ceiling, illuminating the interior with a garish light. Laurel squinted automatically against the vulgar glare.
Something is going to need to be done about that, she thought grimly, stepping across the threshold. We’ll call that project number one. It’s not conducive to a good work environment.
It was bigger inside than she had expected but the air was still thick and stifling despite the size.
It’s going to be too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter, she realized but wisely kept her thoughts to herself. A small part of her hoped that she wouldn’t be there to see all the season changes.
Venturing in further, she made out a small kitchen, a tiny living area, and two bedrooms, each with two single beds inside. Laurel stifled a groan, realizing that she was going to be sharing a room with Anatoli for however long the director chose to stay. There was also a bathroom with a stand-up shower but no sign of a bathtub.
Maybe we’ll be activated before the winter hits, Laurel thought optimistically. Even being called to the front lines has to be better than this.
But if one half of the area was a living area, the second part was a fully stocked lab, not unlike the one they had left behind at the compound.
Laurel had to admit that the gear was all beautiful, shiny, new, and ready to be handled. In spite of her disappointment in the living arrangements, she was looking forward to starting work.
“We’re going to need to section off the lab from the rest of the apartment,” Laurel said suddenly, springing into action. “It won’t be sterile otherwise.”
The pair looked at her.
“You see?” Anatoli said sweetly, giving Laurel a coy smile. “That’s why you’re the brains of the operation.”
The fox didn’t miss the hint of sarcasm dripping from the director’s lips, but she chose to ignore it, making her way into the bedroom where Preston had left her luggage.
“There’s still more to be brought in from the car,” Anatoli called after her. “You don’t expect Einar to do it by himself, do you?”
“We’re coming,” Preston said quickly, startling Laurel from where he was standing behind the door. Laurel stepped back and eyed him.
“You scared me,” she said. He laughed.
“I think you were scared before I showed up,” he quipped. “What’s wrong?”
Laurel shrugged and sighed. That was the million-dollar question.
“I don’t know,” she mumbled.
“I get it,” Preston assured her. “It’s not what you thought it would be but you know what? We’re all tired. It will look much more appealing after we’ve gotten some rest.”
She looked at him dubiously. She wasn’t sure that sleep was going to solve anything, but she appreciated him making the effort anyway.
“How about you go get the rest of the crap out of the car and I’ll see if I can’t rustle us up something to eat.”
Laurel’s eyebrows raised with interest. It was the first she was hearing of his culinary skill.
“You can cook?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Preston chuckled. “But I’ll see what I can do. For all I know, we’ll both have to go on a hunt for our food.”
Laurel balked, realizing that he might be right.
“Shit. How will we get supplies out here?” she muttered. Preston howled, realizing that she had taken him very seriously.
“Okay, one thing at a time, all right? You’re not alone here, Laurel. There’s two of us. We’ll work this out.”
The words filled Laurel with a new sense of hope and she smiled sheepishly at Preston.
“All right,” she relented before heading out to the car where Anatoli stood with Einar.
“…be back in one week with the supplies, ja?” Einar was saying to the director. “Just as we agreed. You have radio here, ja? If there’s trouble?”
“We’ll be fine here, Einar,” Anatoli told him sweetly. “Don’t forget who I am.”
Einar seemed abashed by the reminder and he nodded quickly.
“Ja, I know,” he agreed, hanging his head. “I’ll help with baggage and leave. There is a storm coming.”
“Leave it,” Anatoli instructed him, nodding at Laurel. “Laurel will get it. You be on your way before those winds pick up. I know how deadly they can get up here. Heaven forbid you get stranded on the side of the road in that wreck. Aren’t I paying you enough for a new car, Einar?”
Laurel’s eyes trailed toward the structure she was to call home and wondered how it might withstand high winds. She pushed the thought out of her mind before she could agonize over it too much.
“I like my car,” Einar insisted before turning to Laurel. “You are good with the baggage?”
Laurel n
odded quickly.
“Pakka per fyrir,” Laurel said haltingly. Einar’s eyes lit up.
“Aeoislegt! You are speaking Icelandic! You are very welcome.”
A shy blush formed on Laurel’s face and she hurried to collect the bags from the trunk as Einar climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Look at you, making friends already,” Anatoli said coolly as Einar drove off. Laurel cast her a wary look, unsure of what she’d done wrong.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Laurel murmured.
“I just want you to remember your role here, Laurel,” Anatoli replied quietly, turning back toward the unit without bothering to take a bag with her. Pursing her lips, Laurel made her way back into the kitchen. She noted with relief that Anatoli had gone into the bedroom to use her satellite phone.
“All done?” Preston asked.
“Do you ever get the sense that the director hates us?” Laurel asked unexpectedly. “Or is it just me?”
Preston eyed her with surprise.
“I think you’re reading too much into things,” he replied. He paused. “Although…”
Laurel looked at him curiously.
“What?”
“Maybe she’s jealous of you.”
Laurel scoffed openly and loudly.
“She is jealous of me? There is nothing that I have that Anatoli doesn’t have twenty of,” she reminded him flatly. “That woman literally has everything she could possibly desire at her fingertips.”
A half-smile touched Preston’s face.
“That’s not true,” he murmured in a singsong voice.
“Sure it is. Name one thing I have that she doesn’t.”
“Your beauty.”
The cheesy but sincere answer filled Laurel’s heart with a slight flutter but whatever moment they might have shared was broken when Anatoli re-entered the space.
“Mm,” the director sighed. “Something smells really good.”
Laurel looked away hastily and swallowed her nervous smile.
Preston thinks I’m pretty, she tittered to herself like a schoolgirl. She hoped that Anatoli was leaving soon but as the director settled in at the tiny dining room table, Laurel had a bad feeling she was going to be there for a while.
4
It took a couple of days for the trio to fall into a rhythm, the jet lag and endless sunshine taking a toll on all of them, despite their supernatural genetics. Anatoli seemed to be having the worst time with it, a fact that gave Laurel a slight feeling of hope. Her vampire DNA was causing more of an issue without any reprieve of night and Laurel thought it might lead to her leaving sooner as a result. She wasn’t sick, but the sunlight did seem to annoy her.
Regardless, Laurel started with her work, researching what she could in the area and collecting samples in the soil and plant life, searching for other sources of renewable energy.
Despite their being in such a solitary environment, Anatoli had somehow managed for wi-fi to be accessible and Laurel spent much of her days looking up the history of Iceland’s green ways. With her mind occupied on work, Anatoli’s effervescent presence weighed less on Laurel’s shoulders and it was almost comfortable as the days progressed.
Throughout all of it, she caught Preston casting her soft, meaningful smiles, ones with unmistakable undertones that were ripe with promise.
Promise for if and when Anatoli ever leaves, Laurel thought, shaking her red mane regretfully. The bonus to being in such a secluded location, however, was that once the workday was completed, she was free to run as wild and free as she wanted in her fox form.
There truly was no one about for miles as far as she could see and the Hesteyri region was rife with lush greenery which took Laurel’s breath away. She had never felt freer than when she was leaping through the wild.
Anatoli warned her that there were lots of tourists coming into the national park during the summer months, even late in the season, often taking a boat from Reykjafjordur around the north side of the nature reserve, but that area was far off from where they were staying. Laurel was sure that Anatoli had planned it that way.
She still had so many questions for Anatoli but every time she broached the subject, the director skillfully changed the subject. Whatever her plans were, she clearly wanted the Sleepers kept in the dark.
In the meantime, Laurel decided to fall into her new life and embrace whatever it was to become. Preston had been right; they were doing what they loved to do with little supervision. While she couldn’t attest to where the other Sleepers had ended up, Laurel was now convinced that they did have a good deal, even if she didn’t fully understand Anatoli’s motives.
A week after they’d arrived, Laurel sat back at her desk and rubbed her eyes. She’d been poring over specimens on a slide and her eyes were burning. She’d done all she could with what she’d found and realized it was going to be time to do another collection.
Just beyond the Hesteyrarfjordur fjord was a massive glacier sitting in Jokulfirdir Lake. They had yet to take a boat out to investigate it, but it had been nagging at the back of Laurel’s mind. She wondered if samples from both the fjord and the glacier might prove fruitful.
I’m sure the Icelandic people have already investigated all these avenues, but it doesn’t hurt to try.
It would have been helpful if she was able to speak with some of the brighter Icelandic minds, but she wasn’t quite that brave yet.
Most people in Iceland spoke English very well, but Laurel didn’t like the idea of expecting people to speak her language when she was in their country. She wasn’t about to waltz into a meeting with national scientists without a basic grasp of their native language—even if Preston constantly assured her that he could take the lead.
A shadow fell over her desk and she turned her head to look up at Preston, who grinned impishly at her.
“All done for today?” he asked brightly.
“For today,” Laurel replied slowly, glancing over his shoulder. To her surprise, Anatoli was nowhere around. Before she could ask the whereabouts of the director, Preston pulled something out from behind his back.
“Jameson’s?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Laurel sat up, her eyes widening with interest.
“Where did you get that?” she demanded in a hushed voice. “The director will kill you if she sees you drinking at work.”
Preston grunted and flopped into the chair in front of her, uncorking the whiskey.
“We’re always at work,” he reminded her. “And I don’t think she’ll care. Anyway, it’s Labor Day. We deserve a celebration.”
A thrill of anticipation shot through Laurel, but before she could embrace the possibilities of having a few drinks with the handsome wolf in front of her, the door opened and Anatoli walked in, crushing her fantasy—again.
“Is that what I think it is?” Anatoli asked, striding toward them. Laurel cringed, expecting a scathing lecture, but to her shock, she joined the pair and tapped the table.
“Hit me,” she told Preston. The wolf hooted and hurried to the tiny kitchen to oblige her request.
“A real Irish-Icelandic party,” he called happily.
It was the first time they’d let loose since arriving and the women shared a tentative smile.
“Come in the living room.” Preston urged. “I’ve got some snacks on the go.”
It was impossible to refuse such a delicious invite, even if Anatoli was ruining the feel of the date that Laurel wanted so desperately.
You waited nine months with nothing but energy between you. What’s another few days? she mused but that didn’t change the fact that she was suddenly very conscious of Preston’s nearness again, even with Anatoli present.
Preston reappeared with three glasses in hand, one for each of them, and true to his word, he laid out a charcuterie board loaded with veggies, cheese, and crackers. Just looking at it made Laurel’s mouth water. She realized she hadn’t eaten anything all day.
“You’re a lucky girl,” A
natoli teased Laurel. “You have a personal chef.”
Laurel blushed.
“I can cook too,” she said quickly, giving Preston a grateful look.
“Nah. I like doing it,” he replied. “You can just keep using that big brain of yours to come up with an energy plan. I’m good with being the house husband.”
Laurel’s face reddened more, and she hastily put her drink to her mouth to cover the flush of her face.
Anatoli waved her glass and Laurel saw it was empty already.
“Another, garçon,” she laughed. Preston chuckled and hurried to oblige before sinking back into his spot on the sofa where he regarded both women with a warm smile.
“This is nice, right?” he said. “I mean, relaxed. Cool.”
Without answering, Anatoli’s hand went out for a third time. Laurel and Preston exchanged a nervous look.
“Another,” Anatoli growled when he didn’t move. Instantly he jumped to attention and Laurel pressed her lips together.
Does she always drink like this or is something wrong?
She knew there was no point in asking. Anatoli would tell her what she felt Laurel needed to know. Pressing her would only arouse the director’s irritation.
Not speaking a word, Preston began to fill the glass, his eyes carefully averted as he set the bottle down on the table. Once more, Anatoli sloshed back the liquid, her eyes growing hazy.
Maybe she can handle alcohol better than most of us, Laurel reasoned. Shifters healed at a much faster rate than others but even so, a buzz needed time to work its way out of the system. The way Anatoli was hammering them down, she would need to have incredible healing powers.
“Uh…do you want something to eat?” Preston suggested but Anatoli answered with a smirk.
“I’m good with this,” she replied, her words slurring slightly already.
So much for having a higher tolerance. I hope she doesn’t fall on her face.
It was unnerving and strange to see the leader they had respected so much acting in such a way.
