by E. Menozzi
Halfway down the hall, my phone buzzed. I reached into my pocket and glanced down at the screen. But before I could check my message, I crashed into another body. I looked up and found myself staring into a pair of brown eyes, framed by floppy brown waves of hair. Strong hands squeezed my upper arms. Liam.
“Sorry,” he said. His hands held me in place, about a foot away from his chest.
“I should be the one apologizing. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” This close, I realized that he smelled like fresh snow, or maybe my mind was still stuck in Vermont. I slipped my phone into my pocket and resisted the urge to step closer.
“You all right?” His lips had suddenly become very distracting.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“I was just coming to tell you that your uncle said he’s really busy and wanted to have tea with you this afternoon, instead,” he said. “Since we have time, Vivian asked if we might pick up some things for her in town. Interested?”
I squinted at him. This seemed entirely too convenient given our earlier discussion. Still, I could use this change of plans to my advantage and try to pry some information out of him. “Sure,” I said. “Just let me get my jacket, and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
I jogged back to my room to grab my jacket and wallet. Then I hurried down the stairs, past the Faerie Queen tapestry, to the entryway. When I got there, Liam was leaning against the front door like he owned the place.
“Ready?” he asked.
I nodded, instantly regretting that I’d agreed to spend any time with him at all. Silently raging at his smug grin, I fought to shove my arms into my jacket sleeves, which had become a tangled mess, making me look like an uncoordinated idiot. Just about the point where I wanted to throw the thing on the ground and stomp on it, Liam reached down and lifted the jacket from my hands, holding it so I could slip my arms into the sleeves. As he settled the coat on my shoulders, he let his hands linger for a moment before I turned to face him.
“Thanks.”
He lifted an old leather jacket off a peg and shrugged into it before opening the front door. “After you,” he said, stepping aside so I could pass.
I shivered when the brisk wind hit me, just outside the door.
“You need a hat,” he said.
“I didn’t bring one. I didn’t realize it would be so cold here.” I tugged the collar of my coat closed and held it in place with one hand before stuffing the other deep into my pocket.
He shook his head. “We’ll find you one in town.” He stepped up next to me and offered me his arm. “Shall we?”
I looked at his arm and then up at him. “Are we walking?” Based on what I’d seen from the taxi when I’d arrived, we were miles from anything resembling a town, and there were no cars anywhere in sight.
He smiled. That smile of his tugged at something in my chest, something I pushed way back down under a pile of nope, not gonna go there. He gave up waiting for me to take his arm and gestured for me to follow.
“Not far,” he said. “Just to our ride.” I let him lead me around the side of the house.
Just before we turned the corner, I remembered. The old carriage house. Set back from the front facade of the main house, a separate building, covered in climbing vines and surrounded by manicured hedges and rosebushes, the old building now housed the family cars. On the rooftop, a bronze dragon rotated on a post, its tongue flicking out of its open mouth, pointing into the direction of the wind. We walked toward the twin tall oak doors. Liam lifted the crossbeam and swung one open.
The scent of leather and oil hit me as I stepped into the darkness. Light filtered in from a few high windows, tinged green by the vines climbing up the exterior walls. Dust swirled in the sunbeams and a layer of sandy dirt covered the concrete floor.
“Which one’s our ride?” I asked, glancing back and forth between the two vehicles parked inside. One was a sleek black sedan, and the other a dusty, muddy, older-model Land Rover.
“Neither,” he said, walking between the two cars toward the back wall of the carriage house. I followed him, wondering if there was enough room back there for another, maybe smaller, car to be hiding. Instead, I rounded the back of the Land Rover and found him standing next to a sporty motorcycle with knobby tires. He had a helmet in each hand, and was holding one out to me and smiling.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. The last thing I wanted to do was climb onto the back of a motorcycle with a guy I barely knew. Those things were death traps.
He squinted at me. “What’s the problem?”
“Can’t we just take one of the cars? I can go ask my aunt. I’m sure she’ll let me borrow one.” I took a step backward and reached for the back of the Land Rover.
He took a step closer to me, the offered helmet suspended between us. “Are you scared?” His smile was gone, and he gazed down at me with a look of serious concern.
“No.” I stood up straighter, looked past him, and stuck out my chin at the offending beast. I wasn’t scared, I was sane. And sane people didn’t ride motorcycles.
“Well, what’s the problem, then?” He shook his shaggy hair out of his eyes and leaned his head into my field of vision until I was forced to meet his eyes again.
“It’s just…” I scowled and glanced at the back wall. Motorcycles were dangerous. I’d seen those crazy riders zipping between cars on the highway back home. “I like my body parts where they are, thank you very much.”
He snorted. “I agree.” He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “And I have no intention of harming any of your body parts.” He cocked his head to one side and offered me the helmet again. “I’ll go slow. Promise.”
I wondered if maybe we were no longer referring to this motorcycle ride. But I pushed that thought out of my head and placed my hands on the helmet. “Slow,” I said. Was I really agreeing to this? What was I thinking?
“Promise,” he said. I took the helmet from him and held it. When I didn’t move to put it on right away, he narrowed his eyes and added, “You have been on one of these before, yes?”
I shook my head.
“I see.” He rubbed the scruffy hairs on his chin. “We can take the car if you want.”
I shook my head again. “No. I trust you.” As the words escaped my mouth, I realized that I had no idea where they’d come from. I didn’t trust him. I didn’t even know him, and he was clearly up to something that had nothing to do with helping my aunt and uncle. Still, this was why I’d come here, to escape the mess I’d made of my perfect life and try something new.
“Let’s do this,” I said.
“Okay, then. Meet me outside.”
I turned and walked with the helmet back toward the doors. The short journey gave me way too much time to think about what I’d just agreed to do. I swallowed my fear and stepped out into the surprisingly bright sunlight filtering through the overcast skies. I blinked down at the helmet in my hands until my eyes readjusted. Then I fiddled with the straps and visor while I waited for Liam.
I didn’t look up until I heard the crunch of tires on the gravel. Then, before I could change my mind and chicken out, I pulled the helmet over my head and busied myself with fastening the straps.
Liam leaned the motorcycle on its kickstand and placed his helmet on the seat. “Here,” he said, walking over to me. “Let me help you with that.” He tested the straps, then placed his hands on the helmet, one on either side of my head, and tried to move it, but my head moved instead. “Good,” he said. “It’s not too loose.” He smiled at me and lifted the visor. “Okay in there?” he asked.
I nodded.
“All right, then.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and steered me over to the motorcycle. “See this peg?” He pointed at a piece of metal and rubber sticking out from the side of the motorcycle. I nodded. “I’m going to get on first. Then you put your foot there and climb on behind me. Got it?”
> “I’m not an idiot.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’ve ridden a bike before. Same concept.”
“Hey.” He held up his hands. “I’m just trying to make sure you feel safe.”
“Thanks,” I muttered. The helmet muffled my voice, but he nodded once like he’d heard me.
He pulled his helmet over his head and buckled the strap with practiced ease before swinging his leg over the seat to stand, straddling the motorcycle. When he turned the key, the motorcycle rumbled to life.
I gulped and took a step forward. Liam held out a hand to me, but I ignored it and set my foot on the peg without assistance. Resting my hands lightly on his shoulders, I pressed up and swung my leg over, then collapsed onto the seat. My legs shook as I pressed my damp palms against my thighs.
The motorcycle started to shift under us as Liam searched his pockets for something. I sucked in a breath and grabbed for the back of his jacket, afraid we’d topple over. But, a moment after I touched him, the bike stopped moving and he turned toward me, holding out a pair of fleece gloves. I exhaled in a sigh and tried to relax. The gloves were huge, but my fingers felt much warmer once I’d slipped them on. I stuffed the baggy ends into my jacket cuffs so they wouldn’t fall off, then returned my hands to rest on my thighs.
He’d been watching with his head turned, looking back over his shoulder at me. I couldn’t see more than a corner of his face, but I could tell he was smiling. My stomach flipped. Just nerves, I thought.
He sat down, and his warm body settled between my legs. He lifted one hand off the handlebars and reached backward. His gloved fingers closed around the fleece covering mine, and he lifted my hand and placed it on his waist. I sighed and lifted my other hand and placed it on the other side of his waist, but I maintained a wall of air between our bodies.
Liam patted my leg, revved the engine, and shifted the motorcycle into gear. The wheels started to roll, slowly, down the drive, and I tilted my head up to watch the trees arching over our heads. The bare branches against the gray sky mesmerized me. Liam pressed on the brake at the end of the drive, and my body came crashing forward, pressing me against his back. Before I could shift backward, he reached for my arm and held me in place.
Fine. I held tight and leaned against him as he accelerated onto the country road, but only because I’d convinced myself it would be safer that way. Not because I had changed my mind about hooking up with my uncle’s secretary. And definitely not because I liked the feel of Liam’s body against mine.
When we pulled into town, I had an enormous grin on my face. I hadn’t been able to stop smiling since the moment Evelyn gave in to physics and leaned against me. I told her I’d take it slow, but I don’t think she realized I’d need to lean into the curves, and there were quite a few nice bends in the road on the way to town. The first time I leaned the bike, she grabbed my jacket in her hands and scooted even closer to me. I kept the speed low and the ride smooth, but I loved the way she clutched at me when we leaned.
I almost didn’t want to park the bike, but I did want to check on her and make sure she was okay. She’d barely said two words since agreeing to this ride. I found an open spot and parked the bike with the back wheel against the curb. I cut the engine and placed one of my hands over hers, but she’d already started to lean away from me. My smile faded. Of course she’d let go as soon as we stopped. What was I expecting? She’d already as good as told me she wasn’t interested.
“Can I get down?” she asked.
I pulled my helmet off and ran a hand through my hair. “Sure. I’ll hold her steady for you.”
She touched my shoulders briefly. Then she was gone. She’d already pulled off the gloves I’d given her and started fiddling with the helmet straps by the time I’d dismounted and had the kickstand down.
“All right?” I asked.
She tugged at the straps and grumbled. I pulled off my gloves and reached over to help. My fingers grazed the soft, tender skin under her chin and her eyes met mine.
“We made it,” I said. “And you’re still all in one piece.” That was an easy promise for me to keep. I always had my magic to fall back on if we encountered anything truly dangerous.
“Thanks.” She tugged the helmet off and handed it to me. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Not bad?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Okay,” she said, sweeping her hair back and twisting it up. “It was fun.” She frowned as she secured the elastic around her hair. “But not fun enough to make me want to run out and buy one of these when I get home.” She slipped the gloves back on her hands and tucked the ends into her jacket sleeves.
“I could teach you to ride, if you wanted to learn.” I patted the seat and smiled.
“No.” She shivered. “Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to cars. Or walking.”
“You’re cold.” I didn’t feel cold, but then again, I wasn’t human, or from California.
She rubbed her hands on her upper arms and nodded.
“Let’s go get something warm to drink and find you a hat,” I said, leading her across the street to the cafe.
I held the door open for her and followed her inside. “This is it for coffee around here,” I said. “It’s a pretty small town and there’s only the one cafe.”
“Do you even drink coffee? I thought all English people preferred tea.” She glanced around inside the coffee shop, which did in fact feature more tea than coffee.
“I do prefer tea, mostly because I’m hopeless at making coffee. But I’ll drink it, if someone else makes it.”
“What’s your drink?” she asked.
“Espresso.”
“That’s it? Just an espresso?” She held up her hand and curled her fingers above her thumb as though she were holding a tiny espresso cup between them.
I shrugged. “I can drink tea all day long, but I don’t like the taste of coffee enough to drink a whole pot. Or one of those supersize cups you Americans prefer.”
She laughed. I liked making her laugh.
“What about you? What’s your drink?” I asked.
“That depends,” she said. “But right now I think I’d like a mocha. Something about mochas remind me of the holidays. Especially if they put a little peppermint in it. Mmm…”
I ordered our drinks and she tried to give me money to pay for hers, but I waved it away. “My treat,” I said. “To celebrate your first ride.” We moved to the end of the counter to wait.
“Hey,” she said. “That reminds me. I saw some stone ruins on the way here. Do you know what they were?”
“The ones off in the middle of the field?” I pulled out a chair and sat down at one of the tables.
“We passed a lot of fields. But yeah. The one that had stones instead of sheep.” She slid into the chair across from me and slipped her long, thin hands out of the fleece gloves I’d lent her.
“They’re the remains of an ancient temple. Your uncle published a paper on it. Fascinating stuff. But most tourists don’t know any of that history. They just read the bit in the guidebook and come snap a few photos before having a lark about town and driving home.”
“Huh. I’d love to go check them out, after I read my uncle’s paper, of course,” she said. I realized that I’d never asked her field of study or what she did for work. I tended to forget how invested humans were in that sort of thing. If I intended to win her over, I would have to do better.
“Sure. I can get that paper for you and take you out there when you’re ready,” I said. “Of course, you should also check out the guidebooks if you want to learn about the local legends and superstitions. They’re not the best source for information on that type of thing, but they do a good summary.”
“What kind of legends?” she asked.
I shrugged. The barista called my name to pick up our order, and I returned to the counter to retrieve our drinks. I handed Evelyn her mocha and waited for her to
take a sip. She tipped the cup against her lips and closed her eyes.
“Wow! You guys take mochas to a whole new level!” She licked a bit of foam off her lip, drawing my focused attention to her bow-shaped mouth.
“It’s the chocolate,” I said, finding my words.
She took another sip and nodded. “Definitely the chocolate. But the milk, too. It all tastes so fresh!” She appeared to be completely ignorant of my struggle to maintain a platonic conversation and not lean across the table and lick the foam from her lips myself.
“Well, some of those cows we rode past probably contributed to the effort.” I took a sip of my espresso and pictured those very unsexy cows, hoping that might help cool me off.
She nodded. “Yeah, I suppose that makes sense.” She took another sip. “So tell me about these legends and what they have to do with my uncle.”
I sighed in relief. Perfect way to distract me. Talk about history. “Well, they’re mostly ghost stories. Certain times of year when people claim that you can go there and speak with the souls that have crossed over. That sort of thing.”
“Why would people think that?” She wrinkled her nose and frowned. If she hadn’t just been telling me how great her drink was, I’d have thought she’d tasted something sour.
I hesitated before responding, just long enough to give my brain a chance to sort the human stories from my family history. I couldn’t lie to her, but it would be safer if I stuck to telling only the things other humans knew.
“Hunting has always been important in this area, at first for survival, and then, later, for sport.” Arabella, as captain of the Queen’s Guard, had earned the title of Huntress among the Fae. Humans might consider her a goddess, I supposed. Any who still believed, anyway. But I pushed those details to the background and focused on what Evelyn’s uncle would tell her. “Most historians, your uncle included, believe that it was a temple dedicated to the Goddess of the Hunt.”
