by Jo Penn
Why must they be everywhere? Creeping and sneaking around being evil and destroying. You couldn’t walk out your front door without the high possibility of a power-hungry filthy crāwan passing by. Not that Freddie could tell a member of the crāwan by sight. They didn’t advertise with badges. The only time you could tell was when you saw the crow symbol, or one of the members told you who they were. Freddie liked crows and was insulted on behalf of the birds.
After investigating and seeing what was happening, their leader dispersed Freddie and other members of their group throughout the forest. They wanted to save the man who had thrown himself from a moving vehicle in order to get away from the crāwan, and to get rid of the evil crāwans here.
Receiving the signal, Freddie di Moor dropped from the tree he was perched in and landed agilely on the ground in a crouch beside the big man hiding amongst the roots in the mud. So intently was the man watching, he didn’t even notice Freddie and his friends. Or maybe he didn’t have the ability to pick up on the presence of others or have supernatural senses. Whichever it may be, the man was obviously very surprised when Freddie dropped out of the tree beside him and snarled loudly. Freddie reacted quickly.
“Shh.” He placed a finger over his lips and pointed at the crāwan. “You are safe now. We—”
“Mine!”
The man’s growls shook the rocks, river bank, and the water itself, silencing every animal in the forest around them. In a split second, Freddie had his dagger in hand and was ready to fight.
Except, what did the man mean by “mine”? What was that about?
Taken by surprise when he was grabbed suddenly by the big man, Freddie squealed as he was rolled onto his back with the man on top of him. In this position, he could feel the immense aggression and barely held in power, which he hadn’t sensed or noticed before. The man had been so silent, so studious as he snuck through the forest and into this hiding spot. There’d been no sign of any aggression, only calm assessment of the situation.
Damn, but he was big! And really hot. Umm, yum.
Too bad Freddie couldn’t enjoy himself for a minute.
Wriggling to get free, Freddie stopped nearly immediately when he felt hard, defined muscles tensing more and power vibrating like a live electric current through the man.
What astonished him, though, were the tiny little black and green lights that fluttered in the air around them.
His attention was captured not only by the fascinating little lights but with the person himself, whom he hadn’t been able to see fully in the dark. The man’s face held the beauty of one of the ancient statues that lined the entranceway to the nymph waterfall castle, statues that were of the most beautiful people anyone could envisage.
He was an Adonis.
“Must keep safe,” he hissed in Freddie’s ear, sniffing his hair and face. “Stay, do not move while I deal with these crāwan.”
That comment snapped Freddie right out of his daydream of the nymph waterfall and gorgeous statues of males and females who represented beauty and the purity from within. And how this so very big, muscular, and beautiful male could so easily be one who’d posed for the statues.
Him deal with the crāwan! Sprites were not simple nature-loving folk. They were fighters, warriors, and never to be underestimated just because they occasionally liked to wear flowers in their hair!
“You? Excuse me! My friends and I are dealing with the crāwan and getting you to safety.”
“Mine! You stay.”
Ooh, this man was crazy, despite his gorgeous beauty, which Freddie could stare at all day without growing bored. He glared at the man and momentarily forgot his ire. With his head lowered to Freddie’s and the big, perfect body vibrating and flexing, Freddie caught his own sigh and allowed his hand, which had strayed of its own accord, to stroke the wide, big chest twice more before snatching it back.
Now was not the time for naked frolicking. Pity, he thought while testing the hold the man had on him. Maybe once they got to safety and the man was no longer acting like an insane, aggressive jerk, they could have a little fun.
Deciding this, Freddie gave a sharp twist to dislodge the man above him, one leg coming up between them to throw him off. As quick as he moved, the man rumbled a strange growl, evaded where Freddie’s leg was aimed, and locked him to the ground.
“Crāwan.” He sniffed Freddie’s face. “Stay.”
Oh, now he was being irritating as well as insane. With a little dignified sniff, Freddie shot the man with the tranq gun.
“Oh, I should have got you off me first.” Shit. Bad miscalculation.
“What did you do?” The man looked stunned.
“I think you’re in shock or maybe hit your head, and we really do not have time to deal with a crazy person…”
The man slumped fully, a dead weight that sank Freddie into the mud and restricted breathing. Fortunately, Clem came over, wondering what was taking Freddie so long. With his friend’s help, they got the big dead weight off him.
“Did you have to knock him out?” Clem grumbled.
“He was ranting.” Freddie patted the man’s chest. “I didn’t have time to calibrate unfortunately.”
“You used all of the serum?” Clem snatched the tranquilizer gun. “Do you know what these are used for? One drop of this serum is more than enough to knock out a sprite for ten hours.”
“I am aware.” Freddie rolled his eyes. Sheesh, as if he didn’t know the basics! “Help me drag him up to the camp. Lying in this mud cannot be good for him.”
“Depending on what type of supernatural he is, I’d say he’s down and out for at least twenty-four to forty-eight hours. If he’s human, he may need a hospital trip.”
“Probably needs a good rest after the crāwan ran him off the road. Geez, he weighs a ton.” Freddie looked sourly at his old friend Clem. “You could at least help.”
“What happened to the male?” Maryann joined them, dropping a clip from her gun. She pocketed it and stuck a fresh load in with one efficient move.
“Freddie knocked him out with an entire vial of serum from the tranq gun.”
“Yeah? Lief’s driving the van forty miles down the road. I’ll be taking the truck in the opposite direction. Get back to camp, clean it up, and leave no evidence we were ever there. And find out who he is so we can call someone to come pick him up.”
Freddie waved Maryann and Lief off and looked around to see what happened to the crāwan. There was no evidence left of them. Maryann never left evidence.
“Get that bag, Freddie, and cover our tracks back to camp. Heavens, he weighs a freaking ton,” Geraldine complained.
At camp they loaded him in the back of Freddie’s Kombi van while they cleaned up, removing any sign of recent occupancy. Once that was done, they stopped up the road and went through the satchel the man was carrying piece by piece for any details on who he may be and where he was from. They probably should call someone, but how did you tell a person their friend or family member had been chased by crāwan and saved by sprites? Either the family would get angry and want revenge or they’d go running to their leader in fear of making demands that no one could fulfill. Or if human, there would need to be a major cover up.
It felt like the crāwan were growing in strength and numbers, and the different supernatural groups were only holding their own against them. There was a human group who were aware of supernaturals, they were called Protectors, and though they contributed quite a lot, their side wasn’t doing well.
“Here. Professor Ricardo Morrison.” Gaute held up a card. “We have a driver’s license.”
“Emergency contact?” Clem asked. “Next of kin?”
“No…” Gaute peered at the card he was holding with curiosity and surprise. “I think there is some kind of magic, possibly sensory shield on this.”
“Don’t touch it.” Geraldine flung the card onto the ground away from them. “If there’s magic, there could be danger. I guess we leave him with Freddie an
d Clem. When he wakes, let him go.”
Freddie stopped chewing his bubble gum. “Take him with me and Clem? Why? Besides, crāwan are after him.”
“Appears that way,” Gaute mused.
“Can’t we drop him off somewhere?” Clem grumbled.
“Look, we don’t leave others to be picked off, and since you drugged him, Freddie, and he’s in the back of your Kombi, you two get to take care of him.”
Freddie scowled. Well, this was an annoying development. He had no idea how to take care of a drugged, wounded person wanted by crāwan. He knew nothing about the man in the Kombi except he’d freaked out when he saw Freddie. The man was a supernatural of some type. Supernaturals generally sensed each other but what type of supernatural Freddie couldn’t identify. None of them could. Gaute suspected there was a potion or magic being used.
“Are we reporting this to the sprite leader?” Gaute asked.
“Maryann will. I think he must be an immortal.” Geraldine climbed out of the Kombi and slid the back door shut. “I can see he’s already beginning to heal himself. Curious, though, the crāwan were definitely after him, yet we didn’t find anything in his satchel that suggested he possessed something they wanted. Of course, crāwan have their own agendas.”
Freddie nodded. “You think he’s an immortal? Should we call the immortal divine?”
Most supernatural kind have a leader of some sort and laws that govern them. Not all are organized, but with the increasing crāwan problems, and other supernaturals breaking the law, there was talk of establishing a supernatural board that would govern all supernaturals. There were grave concerns that humans would discover there were creatures amongst them, which could cause a horrific fallout.
“Whatever he is, tell him to report this incident to whichever group he belongs to when he wakes. It’s just not safe running around the middle of nowhere by himself.” Geraldine wiped her hands on her jeans. “Retreat’s over. Head home and check in when you get there.”
The sprites went to their separate cars, Freddie climbing into the driver’s seat of the Kombi and Clemens the passenger seat. After plugging the iPod in, he turned it up.
Loud techno music pelted out. Clem loved the night life, loved to dance and flirt, and was a retro record store owner in a larger town ten miles from where Freddie lived.
Freddie drove his old Kombi for twenty miles with Clem guzzling coffee from a thermos, keeping the music loud and yelling over the top whenever they spoke. The big man in the back never stirred, though he was jostled a lot as the kombi needed new shock absorbers, springs, and possibly an axle.
Freddie wasn’t sure about the axle. The mechanic had mixed Google reviews, some customers saying they’d been charged for services not actually needed. Pulling the Kombi into the narrow driveway, he expertly navigated the fence and overgrown shrubs, only just missing Clem’s sporty Smart car, which gained him a growl, and applied the brakes all the way. As the brakes were well worn down, the Kombi coasted toward the parking spot and came to a stop only with the aid of the hand brake and a pile of bricks Freddie had set up at the end of the driveway just for this reason. The iPod clicked off.
“Kombi needs an overhaul.”
“The engine and body are fine.”
“Drive into town tomorrow. I’ll book the Ancient One in for a full work over. I guess we should move sleeping beauty inside.”
“He is beautiful. An Adonis.”
“Hmm, gorgeous. Take his feet.”
The gorgeous man was big, heavy, dirty, and muddy. Moving him into Freddie’s small cottage was difficult, resulting in dropping him once, stepping on one of his hands, and giving him a few new bruises. Clem stayed long enough to call in that they had safely arrived and have a toasted sandwich and more coffee before cruising off home.
Left with a crāwan target out cold on the large red sofa, Freddie attempted to wake him a few times with no luck. As Professor Morrison was already healing from his injuries and not knowing the type of creature he was, Freddie covered him with a blanket and propped his head on a cushion. He wondered why the man had reacted so strongly back in the forest when first seeing him. And why were the crāwan after him? When the crāwan fixed their attention on you, it was for a very specific reason, like you had something they wanted, you were leverage, or had offended them in some way. The university professor on Freddie’s sofa could be a criminal for all he knew or just a person who was in danger.
Pondering that, Freddie did a quick search on the internet for Professor Ricardo Morrison and received a few hits. It appeared he really was a university professor, had been for a few years. So, what was the professor doing in the dark forest late at night by himself being chased by crāwan? What was he mixed up in?
Not able to figure that out, Freddie went to have a shower. When the professor woke, Freddie could send him on his way.
* * * *
Freddie was woken from a deep, much-needed sleep when placed over a wide, muscular shoulder still wrapped in his Marvin the Martian quilt.
“I…? What?” he murmured groggily.
“Sorry about this. I’ll have to explain on the way.”
Huh? Freddie frowned, momentarily confused. As his sleep-muddled brain cleared, he remembered. It was the gorgeous man being crazy again.
“On the way where?” Freddie poked the professor in the back to gauge how muscular and powerful he was for the upcoming fight. Very muscular, solid muscle in fact. Oooh, he was fine.
“Oslo, my mate.”
Such a shame someone so fine was just plain crazy.
“No. Way. Put me down.”
“Can’t.”
As they raced through the small cottage, Freddie noticed the professor had showered and recovered from the injuries he sustained in the fight last night. That was fast, even for a supernatural. It left him wondering what type of supernatural the professor was.
No good deed went without punishment. Or was it goes unpunished? He couldn’t quite remember, just knew that the good deed of saving this particular person was causing a lot of problems ever since. Possibly the crāwan were after him because he was insane.
Freddie began struggling, using his legs to aim at the professor’s stomach and, if he could get lower—though it was a low blow—the groin area. Clenching his hands into fists, he directed punches toward kidneys and any other places he’d been trained to go for when coming up against a big opponent.
“Fredrik, there is no need for fighting.”
“Freddie, and there is a big need. Put me down.” He grunted, wriggling. “Kidnapping is a major crime, professor.”
With a sigh, the professor placed Freddie on his feet. Freddie had to look a long way up, and on the way, his eyes strayed to different locations of the man’s body.
Long, muscular legs clad in old, torn, well-worn jeans that fit perfectly, denim slung low on hips. A narrow waist and wide chest, muscles showing beneath the thin sweater he wore, which had also sustained a few holes, over wide shoulders and up to the sculptured face.
Six feet three and a half inches, chocolate-brown hair, olive complexion, Adonis looks, and startling dark green eyes. Freddie’s body was tickled with awareness.
“You do not look like a professor.”
Light brown brows rose. “Are professors supposed to have a particular look, Fredrik?”
“Yeah, and you don’t look like one. Stop calling me Fredrik.”
“That’s the name on your driver’s license.”
“You snooped?” Freddie gaped, a little outraged. Though realistically, if he woke somewhere strange, he’d snoop big time.
Still, this was his house. He didn’t like the idea of someone looking through his belongings. While a lot of it was second-hand and hand-me-downs, it belonged to him. He worked hard, he paid the rent.
“I researched.” Professor Morrison smiled a little. “I don’t have time to explain everything right this minute unfortunately, but when we’re on the road—”
“
What makes you think I am going anywhere with you?”
“This is the way it has to be.” The professor looked torn a moment then resolved. “The crāwans are after me. It won’t take them long to follow the trail here. I can’t leave you here, and I don’t have time to find you a safe place right now. The logical solution is you come with me for now. Is the Kombi outside useable?”
Why did everyone have doubts about his likeable Kombi? Sure, the brakes sucked, and it took a while to warm up, but it ran just fine once it got going! It was just so damn annoying how everyone doubted the old fuel guzzler.
He needed to slow the professor down.
“Yes, but not for you. Stop the crazy talk and listen a moment. Whoever you are, the crāwan were after you. Maryann said you should call someone for assistance and report what happened last night to your kind’s leader. Make your calls and go.”
“My name is Rico Arkman Tarok, Freddie. As for contacting my leader, that is a no-go. We have to get out of here fast. I’m behind schedule, and if I don’t keep moving, my kind will come looking and stuff everything up.”
“That is not the name on your driver's license.” Freddie said suspiciously.
The professor flashed a smile. “So, I wasn’t the only one ‘snooping’.” When Freddie continued to glare, he sighed. “No, it’s not. I have to change my name every decade or so, along with where I live because I don’t age. Sorry, but I have to do this.”
Freddie went to evade when realizing the man’s intent, hissing as the professor got a big arm wrapped around his waist, locking his arms at his sides, and picking him up. It was frustrating to be carried across the living room and not even cause the man to falter in his steps, and yet, the entire time since waking, despite being picked up and carted about, he hadn’t once felt afraid, intimidated, or threatened.
That gave Freddie pause. Freddie was aware of Rico in other ways that he really shouldn’t be considering in this situation. Freddie wasn’t a damsel-in-distress type. He’d kicked ass for his small group numerous times over the years and wasn’t the type to be distracted by a hot body and pretty face.
