A Kingdom of Iron & Wine : New Adult Fantasy Romance (The Ironworld Series Book 1)
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I stammered over my words as I whispered, “Sorry, is this seat taken?”
She just continued to glare at me as if she were willing me with her thoughts to leave. I cringed and cowered away from her as I bent to fetch my bag from the floor. “Cool, I get it. I’ll find another seat.” As I stood to move, my back hunched over as to not alert the speaker that I was interrupting yet again, my flimsy paper coffee cup squeezed in my hand, and the top popped off. Hot coffee spilled all over her lap, and she leaped to her feet with a pissed-off groan.
“Oh, my god!” My loud reply alerted the entire room, and sounds of annoyance bounced off my back. “I’m so sorry–” I tried to wipe at her black dress and fishnet leggings, but she just huffed in anger and swatted my hand away.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” she seethed and threw a conscious glare around the room behind me. She narrowed her piercing black eyes at me before spinning in a huff and stormed out of the room.
I stood there, breathless and frozen. What the hell just happened?
“Is everything alright back there?” the prof at the front called out impatiently.
I turned around, my face surely as red as the brick that made up the surrounding walls. “Uh, yes. Everything’s fine.” I quickly slipped into a chair. “Sorry for interrupting.”
The speaker picked up where they left off, and I sat there, thankful I was in the back where no one could see the beads of sweat that broke out on my face and the breaths that heaved from my chest as I willed my heart to calm the hell down.
My first day wasn’t off to a great start.
Chapter Four
The following week went by in a blur of disjointed and awkward moments. Moments of me desperately trying to adjust to my new life. On the second day of classes, my bike wouldn’t start, and it was raining, so I’d braved the metro bus. It was only a ten-minute ride, but it was enough to turn my stomach upside down. I’d been sitting in class all of five minutes before I bolted to the bathroom. Not before I accidentally knocked some books off the edge of the angry girl’s desk. The death stare she’d given me as she slowly bent to pick them up was enough to give me nightmares.
But I’d already had plenty of those.
I spent my days failing to fit into my new life. I spent my nights tossing and turning in a pool of sweat as I fought off a cavalcade of nightmarish hallucinations. Nothing cohesive. Just a mess of flashes and images that seared into my mind by the time the morning sun broke across my bedroom.
The dark membrane of a bat-like wing as moonlight shined through the leathery skin. Eyes so completely black they seemed to ooze tar from their sockets. Winged creatures circling the jagged tops of a dark castle in the far distance. My arm, outstretched, long black claws gripping and puncturing my skin. But the blood that dripped from the wounds wasn’t red.
It was as black as night.
Every morning, I’d awake with a start and hold the scream in my chest. I didn’t want Julie to know. Didn’t want her to see how horribly I was adjusting to our new life. She seemed so happy, so… comfortable. Her classes were off to a great start. She’d come home each day and regale me in details of what she did, what she learned, who she met. I didn’t want her to feel guilty for it. But makeup could cover only so much, and the puffy bags that were forming under my eyes were taking on a lovely, bruised tone.
Friday finally rolled around, and I slogged home from classes with a weight on my chest. Glad to be done with it and away from it all. But dreading the downtime where my nightmares could catch up with me.
I collapsed on the sofa, jacket, boots, and all, and let an exhausted moan erupt from me.
“Rough week?” Julie asked from the kitchen. She poured herself some wine before grabbing another glass from the cupboard.
“You could say that.” I pushed myself into a half-sitting position.
“That chick still giving you trouble?”
I toed off my boots beneath the coffee table and twisted my long red hair into a messy bun at the top of my head. “She’s not really doing anything at all. She just… stares at me. Gives me these looks as if she’s ready to rip my throat out with her teeth or something.”
Julie skirted around the sofa and set down a glass of wine in front of me. I took it and twisted it slowly between my fingers.
“What did you do to piss her off so much?”
I shrugged. “Nothing. Well, I mean, I accidentally spilled my coffee on her during orientation.” Julie laughed and sipped from her glass. “But it can’t be that. Not now, not… still. Plus, it’s not just me. She treats everyone like that. Even the prof.” I blinked. “God, I don’t even know her name yet. She rarely speaks in class.”
Julie leaned back in the chair as she balanced her sock feet on the edge of the wooden coffee table that sat between us. I could smell something hearty–our dinner–cooking in the oven. “Well, sounds like she’s just a good ol’ fashioned bitch. If you’d gone to high school with me, you’d know the type.” Julie raised her glass and took another sip. “Welcome to the real world, Av’. Bitches be everywhere.”
I sank into the couch with a groan. Julie pushed a piece of paper across the table with her toe.
“What’s that?” I asked.
Her sky-blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “There’s a gallery looking for an intern. Someone to do menial tasks. Probably just cleaning, but it’s an in.”
I sat up and plucked the folded paper from the table. “What do you mean?”
“A job, Av’,” she replied. “Something for your resume. Something to give you that leg up over the rest of your class.”
I opened the flyer and stared at the words without registering them. “Isn’t that a bit premature?”
Julie shrugged and leaned forward. “I’m already on a waitlist for a temp job at the library.”
I didn’t bother reading it and set it on the cushion next to me with a deep sigh. “It’s the first week, Jules. I think I’m at maximum capacity for overwhelming things.”
She looked at me with a grin. “Just read it. Look at what gallery it is.”
Too tired to argue with her, I took the paper and opened it again, taking in words this time. My eyes widened, and I could see Julie grinning from the corner of my one eye. “Gallery Danes?”
“You’re welcome.”
Gallery Danes had always been my favorite in the city. I read the words out loud in hopes they would sink in. “Gallery Danes is looking for a student or temp to work one day a week in the gallery. Duties include sweeping, mopping, organizing stock, window cleaning, accepting deliveries, etc. All interested applicants are to fill out the form on our website. Position to be filled by the end of the month.”
“You should do it,” Julie encouraged. “Apply.”
I stared unblinking at the paper. I’d never get this job. Not over the more qualified people who no doubt already applied. Not over the many art students that went to my school. But I wondered then if Julie was starting to catch on to my misery, and this was some attempt to cheer me up. I managed a smile for her as I folded the paper and tucked it away in my pocket.
“Sure, I’ll think about it.”
She hopped to her feet. “We need to do something.” She threw back the last of her wine and set down her glass. “Something to celebrate surviving our first full week in the city.”
“Like what?”
Her response was a wicked grin.
***
A few hours later, under a blanket of night sky and city lights, we stood in a long line of university students eager to let loose. The music inside the club pounded against the wall we all leaned against. And the bass vibrated beneath my feet.
The line moved forward, and I took a step closer. Julie bounced on her toes with excitement. Her long legs hung from the short black halter dress she wore, and I shivered just looking at her bare arms.
September in Halifax wasn’t exactly warm, and I tugged at the hem of my long sleeve red shirt while regretting the black lea
ther pants she’d insisted I wear. The top half of my body was cold, while the bottom half was literally sweating under the unforgiving fabric. At least I’d worn comfortable footwear, my burgundy Doc Martens.
The line moved again, and Julie and I were finally at the front. The beefy bouncer that handled the door held it open as he sized us up.
“IDs,” he grunted.
I shot Julie a look that said, I thought this club never checked IDs? A fact she’d assured me before we left the apartment. She kept her expression aloof as she swung her long blonde waves over her shoulder. Her fingers slid over the back of his massive hand, and she blinked coyly up at him.
“I’m afraid we didn’t bring them with us,” she practically cooed.
The man’s thick brows pinched together as he stared down at her. He opened his mouth to no doubt turn us away, but Julie leaned forward and whispered something in his ear. When she pulled away, her pale face beaming with a grin, the bouncer looked between the two of us and gave a curt nod as he took one step to the side.
He held the door open for us, and I gave Julie a quick questioning look. I waited for her to enter first and then followed hesitantly behind. As I passed the bouncer, I dared look up at his scrutinizing expression, and, for a split second, something flashed in his eyes. A rainbow of color that made him look unnatural. Unnerving. When he blinked, the colors disappeared, and I stamped into the dark noise of the club. Either he had some crazy contacts, or exhaustion was wearing on me.
“What did you say to him?” I shouted into Julie’s ear.
She threw me a grin over her shoulder. “I told him to find me for a dance on his break.”
“That’s it?”
Her response was a cheeky shrug, and she tugged me further into the club. I wasn’t prepared for what I found inside the building. What I’d assumed was a typical nightclub was actually an old four-story building converted into four different clubs. All accessible from inside. A series of staircases took us from one level to the next, each one offering a unique atmosphere.
On the lower level, a fast-paced dance party, complete with shot girls wandering the floors. The next, a fancier, more subdued area full of classy tables littered with wine glasses and cocktails. The bartenders wore bow ties. The top floor was more my style, with a quieter atmosphere and a live band playing on a small floor-level stage. But Julie came to dance, and dance is what we did.
We plunged into the night with drinks and laughter. We danced to every song. When we needed a break, we’d head upstairs and sit in a booth while we sipped beers and listened to whatever folk band played. At some point, plates of food appeared in the crowd, balanced on expert hands, and we snagged some nachos.
After a couple of hours, the throbbing in my ears matched the pulsing in the soles of my feet. I desperately needed to sit. The half a dozen drinks Julie fed me swirled in my head, and I wiped my slick forehead as I leaned against a tall metal stool.
“Bathroom?” Julie fought to say over the pounding music.
I shook my head. “I just need some air!”
She scanned around as she danced in place. “I’ll go with you! Just wait for me to use the bathroom!”
I nodded and followed her as she took me by the hand and led us through the congestion of dancing bodies. But my head swam even more, and I desperately needed air before I passed out. I squeezed her hand, and when she glanced over her shoulder and mouthed the word outside as I gave a show of fanning myself.
Julie chuckled and held up a finger to tell me she’d meet me out there in a minute, and I took a deep breath as I made a beeline for the exit. I threw myself against the heavy metal door and fumbled out onto the sidewalk, where the cool night air immediately soothed me. I balanced myself as I leaned forward and braced my hands on my bent knees, and heaved the fresh air in and out of me. Desperate to purge nausea from my body.
Next to me, a plume of cigarette smoke billowed around a small group of smokers, and I moved further down the sidewalk until I reached the mouth of a dark, narrow alley that divided the club from the next building.
My head stopped spinning, and I could finally stand straight. I leaned against the rough stone exterior as I waited for Julie, my skin still thrumming with vibrations of music and dance and drink. She was right. Despite inevitable nausea from being in close quarters, I needed this. I needed to get out of my own head for a moment and let loose.
When the smokers had gone back inside, I shoved off the wall to move closer to the club entrance so Julie would see me, but a rustling from the alleyway caught my attention. Shadows moved in the darkness as I peered inside the narrow opening.
Heaps of garbage and boxes were piled in the far corners, but I couldn’t see anything that moved. I stood there and stared for a moment, willing my eyes to adjust, scanning for…anything. I heard it when a black garbage bag toppled over, and a few stray cans rolled to the ground. The voice. The whisper that haunted my dreams.
Avery…
I froze.
“Who’s there?” I called into the darkness. “Who’s… following me?”
When nothing responded, nothing moved, I dared take a step closer. Curiosity overpowered my fear and sense of self-perseverance. I was tired of this. Either something was following me, or I was indeed losing my mind.
I stepped further into the alley, convinced it was probably just a stray cat and I just desperately needed sleep. I toed the toppled garbage bag, flipped it around with my shoe until something scurried out from beneath it. I let out a shriek.
A rat.
But beyond that, beneath piles of crumpled garbage, that same blue light I’d seen before. But it was a small fissure in the stone, glowing and emanating an almost blinding light. It changed when I blinked, and a small ball of light appeared. Like a single Christmas tree light, only this time it grew and grew, expanded until I had no choice but to shield my eyes. Something flew around my head, tangling in my hair, and I swatted at whatever it was. A bird, a bat. I’d no idea. The shadows of the alley spun around me; my vision burned with glowing blue lines of light.
I stumbled backward as I struggled to exit the alleyway, and two arms caught me before I met the concrete sidewalk. The blue light was gone, and the alley was shrouded in darkness once again. I turned, expecting to find Julie, but found myself face to face with a man. A strange man with long, straggly black hair that partially covered his worn but strangely handsome face.
He towered over as he glared down at me with a scrutinizing expression. His large brown eyes widened, almost in recognition. But I’d never seen him before in my life, which only meant… it wasn’t recognition I saw. It was something else. I struggled in his hold, and he gripped my arms tightly as he pulled me hard up against his leather jacket. He reeked of cigarettes and something like black cherries.
“Well, well, well.” His raspy smoker’s voice made me shudder. “What do we have here?”
I writhed against his tight grip. “Let me go.”
The guy pulled me close, and I could have sworn he… smelled me. “This is an interesting turn of events.”
For once, my pathetic stomach was my saving grace. Nausea took root once again, and I couldn’t stop my stomach from heaving even if I wanted to. I puked all over his leather jacket and then his combat boots. The booze went sour in my mouth.
The guy instinctively shoved me away, and I fumbled back a step just as Julie appeared from behind. “Avery!” She came to a stop by my side and pushed at the guy’s shoulder. “Get away from her, you creep!”
He held up both hands. “Hey, I’m the victim here.” He motioned to the vomit that ran down his front. “Maybe you should tell your girl not to wander in dark alleys alone. Especially around here.”
Julie smoothed the hair away from my sweaty face. Her eyes were crazed and worried. “Av’, you okay?”
I nodded. When we both looked back, the guy was gone.
“Christ, Avery,” Julie chastised. “The alley? What were you thinking?”
“What? The guy?” Julie asked. “He’s gone.”
“No.” I shook my head as the rapid events of the last few minutes fought to settle in my mind. “No, there was…” Was what? A fairy? A stalker lightning bug? I took a deep breath, and the remnants of vomit burned in my throat. “I think I need sleep.”
Julie flung an arm around my shoulders and turned us in the direction of the apartment. “Come on then. I think that’s enough fun for one night. Let’s go home.”
Breaths came easier with the more distance we put between the club and us, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of someone–something–following, lingering in the shadows. Watching the whole way back.
Waiting.
***
Moonlight filtered through the leathery veil of a batwing, revealing the dark membranes. Balls of light exploded in the distance. Shaking the Earth. Like war sounds. My head seemed to float, only tethered by its attachment to my body. A dream. This was a dream. No… I glanced down at my bare arm, overturned to expose the tender flesh of its underside. A long gash slowly ripped down the length of it.
A nightmare.
Long, crooked black fingers wrapped my arm, squeezing and coaxing the blood from the wound. Only… what oozed from the slice was black as night and thick like tar, just like before. The hand that gripped me–the body it belonged to existing outside the confines of my nightmare–tightened its grip until the blackness inched up my arm, covering every inch of skin until it reached my shoulder. Then my neck.
It crawled over my jaw and pried open my lips. I fought against it, but it was no use. My mouth gaped, and the darkness spilled inside, filling me. A gurgled scream erupted from my chest, and I fell backward into the void of nothingness. The only sound to be heard was that of a low cackle. Deep and menacing.