Haven

by Karen Lynch

  She waved to get my attention, and I hurried over to her, relieved to see her pulling cash from her wallet to pay her bill.

  “That pie was amazing.” She handed me a ten-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

  “Thanks.” A four-dollar tip for pie and coffee. Not bad.

  She shimmied out of the booth and picked up her small purse. “I need to go walk off the pie, but it was worth it. Maybe I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

  “Have a good night.”

  As I watched her leave, I suddenly realized what was off about her. I’d been all over the US and I’d spent time in Minnesota, where they had a very distinct accent, one that had been missing from the woman’s voice. If I had to guess, I’d say she was from the East Coast. Why would she lie about that?

  My other customers had left, so I cleaned both tables and went to clock out. Steve was waiting for me at the window with a takeout bag when I grabbed my bag from beneath the counter.

  I took the heavy bag from him. “What’s this?”

  “Dinner.”

  He waved me off when I reached for my wallet. “It’s on the house. You earned it.”

  “Thanks.” I gave him a grateful smile. The last thing I wanted to do was go home and try to cook. I’d gotten the hang of the basics like grilled cheese and hamburgers, and I’d been wanting to try my hand at actual recipes from the cookbook I’d bought. Not tonight, though. I was too tired to go anywhere near a stove now.

  Outside, it was darker than normal for this time of day, and I looked up at the overcast sky, hoping it didn’t rain until I got home. Hurrying to the Vespa, I stowed my messenger bag and dinner in the compartment and pulled on my helmet. My stomach growled angrily at the wonderful smell of fried food coming from the bag, and I hopped on the scooter, eager to get home.

  I was pulling out of my spot when I noticed the woman I’d served, sitting in a silver Hyundai a few parking spaces away. The car was running, and she appeared to be typing something on her phone. Before I could look away, her head lifted and she stared straight at me. A smile curved her lips and she waved, but not before I saw the shrewd way she’d looked at me.

  A chill skittered down my spine as I left the parking lot, and I found myself checking my mirrors all the way home. There was no sign of the Hyundai, and I wondered if I was imagining danger everywhere now because of the bald man in Portland.

  Once I put the scooter away, I double-checked that all the doors were bolted before I went to shower and change. Sara’s troll friend had promised no one bad could get inside the building, but I still didn’t feel completely safe. I told myself I was being silly, but the fear lingered as I walked into the kitchen to eat, my hair still damp from the shower.

  I opened the Styrofoam container and laughed at the amount of food Steve had stuffed into the box. I loved his fish and chips, but he’d put in enough to feed a small family. What the heck was I going to do with all this food?

  I thought about the black wolf. Werewolves had huge appetites, and I bet he wouldn’t turn down some of this.

  Shaking off the idea, I got a plate and dished up a large piece of fish and a generous heap of fries for myself. I hadn’t seen the wolf last night so I doubted he’d be here tonight. Most likely he’d been here as a favor for Roland and that was the last I’d see of him.

  I carried my food and a glass of soda to the living room and flicked on the television. I didn’t care much for TV shows, but it was too quiet here and I wanted a distraction. I flipped through the channels, but it seemed like every one of them was playing one of those reality shows. Whatever happened to shows with real actors? I mean, seriously, who wants to watch a bunch of guys cleaning out storage units? TV had changed a lot in the last two decades and not for the better, in my opinion.

  I settled on a rerun of The Fresh Prince, but halfway through, my nostalgia turned to depression when I remembered watching the episode at Chelsea’s house. It was one of the reasons I didn’t watch TV anymore. There were too many memories, and I needed to move forward, not look back. Someday, I hoped I’d be able to look at things from my past without feeling all the sadness. I just wasn’t there yet.

  Turning off the television, I went to rinse my plate. I picked up the takeout box to put it in the fridge and paused with my hand on the door. I hated day old fries, so I wasn’t going to eat this tomorrow. Maybe I should check to see if the wolf was there. If he wasn’t, another of Roland’s friends could be there, and I was sure they’d appreciate Steve’s cooking.

  I went downstairs and opened the back door gingerly. “Hello?” I called softly. “Are you there?”

  It surprised me how disappointed I felt when he didn’t appear. It wasn’t as if I’d really believed he’d be here, and the guy had to have a life besides hanging around at my place.

  A sound drew my attention to the corner, and I stared, breathlessly, as he walked toward me, as big and fierce as ever. He stopped two feet away, and I was a little shocked at how happy I was to see him. Or was I relieved? Either way, I was glad he’d come.

  I cleared my throat. “Hi. I wasn’t sure if you’d be here. I…um…wondered if you wanted something to eat. I brought home fish and chips from work, and it’s enough for three people…or one werewolf.”

  He cocked his head, his amber eyes staring into mine, and it hit me I might have insulted him by offering him leftovers like he was a stray dog. How thoughtless of me. Under that fur was an intelligent person who had feelings, too.

  “I’m sorry. I thought you might be hungry. I won’t bother you again.”

  He moved so fast he was beside me before I could blink. His hot breath washed over my face and hands as he gently took the box in his mouth. I should have felt fear, having those long canines so close to my throat. Instead, warmth filled my chest, and I smiled like a fool as I let go of the box.

  “Oh, good.” I watched him lay the box on the ground. “I didn’t think to bring you something to drink. I hope that’s okay.”

  He lifted his head and nodded. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was smiling at me. Could wolves smile?

  “Enjoy your food.” I pulled the door toward me. “Night.”

  I heard a soft chuffing sound as the door closed, and I felt much lighter as I made my way upstairs again. No longer tired, I changed and went up to the studio to work on the painting of the mine. It was coming along slower than I liked, but the picture was gradually coming to life. I really hoped Sara liked it when I gave it to her. She and Nikolas were going to visit when they got back from Russia, and I wanted to have her paintings done by then.

  Knowing the wolf was close by put me strangely at ease, and I happily lost myself in my art as I hadn’t been able to do for a long time. I would have stayed there painting for hours if I hadn’t been distracted by the sound of rain suddenly pelting the windows and drumming on the roof. I walked to one of the windows and looked out at the waterfront, but the streetlights were nothing but a watery blur. A woman ran from the coffee shop next door to a waiting car, and I heard a faint squeal as she got drenched.

  Better you than me.

  I started back to my easel and stopped as I pictured the wolf out there in this downpour. He was here because of me when he could be somewhere warm and dry.

  He’s a werewolf, I reminded myself. In their fur, they were more than equipped to handle the elements. For all I knew, he liked the rain. And if he didn’t, he’d probably take cover under the front steps. I had a suspicion that was where he was staying out of sight anyway. I walked over and picked up my brush. He’s fine.

  It took me several minutes to realize I’d been staring at the canvas without making a single brush stroke. All I could see was the wolf huddled under the steps, soaking wet. I sighed, knowing it was silly to worry about a huge werewolf getting wet, but I couldn’t help it. The least I could do was check on him and make sure he was comfortable out there.

  Laying down the brush, I headed downstairs. The rain was muted on the second floor, but I
could still hear it battering the windows. Grabbing some shoes and a large umbrella from the coat closet, I went down to the first floor for the third time tonight.

  I unbolted the door and pushed it open, unprepared for the cold spray that doused me before I could open my umbrella. I let out a small shriek as water ran into my bra and down my back.

  A black shape charged around the corner and came to a stop three feet from me. The wolf’s eyes were narrowed, and his mouth was open in a snarl as he looked around, searching for the threat. My lungs squeezed at the feral power emanating from him, and it took me a minute to find my voice.

  “There’s nothing wrong.” I put up my umbrella to keep the spray off my face. “I’m sorry I startled you.”

  He swung his head toward me and water flew off him. If he had been dry under the step, he certainly wasn’t now. Great job, Emma.

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay down here. I mean…I know you can take care of yourself, but it’s raining pretty hard, and I hate getting wet, so I thought…”

  I stopped rambling like an idiot and swallowed. “Listen, if you’re going to hang around here tonight, you can stay in here if you want. It’s dry, at least, and there’s less chance of someone seeing you.”

  He stared at me and I thought he was going to decline my offer, so I was surprised when he walked toward me. I backed up through the door, holding it open until he wedged his body into the doorway. At first. I thought he wouldn’t fit and I’d have to open the second door, but he squeezed through.

  Once he was inside, the storage area seemed a lot smaller. God, he was massive. Forget the troll’s magic. I wouldn’t want to be the person who came through that door and found themselves face-to-face with this guy.

  Water ran off him to pool on the concrete floor, and I looked around for something he could use to dry himself.

  “Hold on while I run up and get some towels for –”

  “Hey!” I sputtered when a spray of water hit me in the face. I glared at the wolf as he shook his fur out vigorously. “You did that on purpose.”

  If I’d thought he was smiling earlier, he was positively grinning now. It was hard to keep a stern face when he stood there with his tongue hanging out and his fur sticking up in every direction. He didn’t look so fierce now.

  I rolled my eyes and turned to the stairs. “Men.”

  The wolf snorted.

  “Keep it up,” I called over my shoulder as I climbed the stairs, “and you won’t be getting any more pizza here.”

  He huffed and sank to the floor.

  I was smiling so hard my face hurt when I closed the door behind me.

  * * *

  “Please?” I whimpered, straining against the ropes that held my arms above my head. “Please, let me go.”

  Eli’s hungry eyes moved over me. “But the fun is just beginning.”

  My stomach clenched in fear, and I began to sob. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. I just want to go h-home.”

  “Ah, sweet thing, you are home. And you and I are going to get to know each other real well.”

  He crossed the room toward me. Terror clawed at my chest when his hand reached out to cup my chin, forcing me to look at him. His lips parted in a smile, and two glistening fangs sprouted from his mouth.

  I screamed.

  A crash ripped me from the nightmare, and I jolted upright in bed as an enormous black shape filled the bedroom doorway. I scrabbled backward until my back hit the headboard, and opened my mouth to scream.

  The thing dropped to all fours, and it took several heart-pounding seconds for my brain to register that it was the wolf. I gulped in air and slumped against the pillows, my muscles weak.

  “I’m okay. It was just a bad dream. I-I get them sometimes,” I babbled, hugging the blanket to my chest.

  He stepped cautiously into the room and sat, as if trying not to frighten me. His presence filled the bedroom, and my fear abated. In its wake, I was overcome by the knowledge that I wasn’t alone anymore.

  My eyes welled, and to my mortification, I began to cry.

  “I’m sorry.” I buried my face in my hands. “I’m just…” So glad you’re here.

  I didn’t care that he was a werewolf, or that I’d be the last person he’d protect if he knew what I’d done. All that mattered was that, for the first time in months, I felt truly safe. I didn’t even know his name, but I knew that as long as he was near, nothing would harm me.

  The wolf whined softly.

  I lifted my head to see him in the same spot, watching me with worried eyes. Sniffling, I wiped my face on the bedsheet, wishing I had a tissue. I must look a mess with my crazy bed hair and puffy eyes.

  “I’m fine,” I said hoarsely. I looked at the window and saw it was still dark outside. I was surprised he’d stayed all night, but happy he was here. Though, after this, he might not want to do Roland any more favors.

  “Sorry for the trouble. I feel bad that I woke you up for a nightmare.”

  I got out of bed and went into the bathroom to splash water on my face and brush the tangles from my hair. When I came out, the wolf was where I’d left him.

  I glanced at my clock radio and saw it was only 5:00 a.m. Sighing, I grabbed some clothes and looked at the wolf.

  “Would you mind leaving so I can get dressed?”

  He backed out into the hallway. I shut the door and changed out of the T-shirt and shorts I’d worn to bed. I was still tired, but too wound up from the dream to go back to sleep. It was a good thing I had the afternoon shift at the diner today. I’d try to take a nap before then.

  The wolf had moved to the other end of the hallway, looking like a monstrous dog guarding the front door. He made even Sara’s hellhounds look small, though I didn’t think any werewolf could beat Hugo or Woolf in a fight, no matter how big he was.

  I went to the kitchen and flicked on the light. Might as well make us breakfast now that I was up.

  “You hungry?” I asked over my shoulder as I peered into the fridge. What would a werewolf eat for breakfast? Meat, of course. Lots of it.

  I pulled out a pack of bacon and a carton of eggs. There wasn’t a lot I could cook, but bacon and eggs I could handle. Soon the kitchen filled with the delicious smell of bacon frying. I cooked the whole pack, placing three slices on my plate and the rest on his. Then I added a modest portion of scrambled eggs to mine and a mountain to his. I almost laughed at the ridiculous pile of food on his plate, but he could probably eat twice that amount.

  I picked up his heavy plate and hesitated. It seemed like an insult to put it on the floor for him. He was a person, after all, even with the fur. I set it on the table instead.

  “Breakfast is ready,” I called to him, carrying my own plate to the table as if having breakfast with a werewolf was an everyday occurrence.

  I was sitting at the table when he appeared in the doorway, looking uncertain for the first time since I’d met him. I’d placed a fork beside his plate because werewolves could use their front paws like hands, but maybe he preferred to forego cutlery in wolf form.

  “I wasn’t sure how you like to eat. Should I put it on the floor for you?”

  He nodded, and I brought his plate to him, laying it at his feet. I noticed he waited until I started eating my food before he dug into his. He finished it in half the time it took me to eat mine, and I suspected he was eating slower than normal.

  I washed my breakfast down with orange juice, and it made me realize I hadn’t offered him anything to drink.

  “Would you be offended if I put a bowl of water down for you?”

  He snorted and shook his head. I filled a large glass bowl and put it on the floor by the door. I could hear him lapping the water as I washed up our plates and the frying pan. My reflection in the window caught my eye, and it surprised me to see the smile on my face. I looked…happy.

  I’d never recovered from one of my dreams this quickly. I certainly never looked this happy when I saw myself in a mirror. I didn’
t know if it was the wolf or just having someone here that made me feel lighter than I had in ages. Whatever the reason, I was reluctant for it to end.

  I hung up the dish towel and faced the wolf, who lay on the floor, half in the kitchen and half in the hallway, watching me. He looked comfortable and in no hurry to leave, although he’d probably have to go before it got light out. I wondered if he’d go all the way home as a wolf or if he had clothes stashed nearby. For that matter, why didn’t he come here in his human form? I’d grown used to the wolf, but it would have been nice to have someone to talk to. And I still didn’t know his name or what he looked like as a human. I could pass him on the street or serve him at the diner and never know he was my new friend.

  Friend? Were we friends now? I’d fed him a few times and he’d stayed in my apartment tonight, but was I just a job to him, a favor for Roland? It wasn’t like the wolf and I could carry on a real conversation, not like Roland and I did, but I felt comfortable with him. My friendship with Roland was complicated because I’d started to develop feelings for him. It was a lot easier to be around a wolf, where attraction wasn’t an issue.

  I thought about what to do now. If I was alone, I’d probably read or go upstairs to paint, but it seemed rude to do those things with him in the apartment.

  “I have a bunch of movie channels. You want to watch a movie with me?” I’d told Sara I didn’t need all those channels, but I was glad for them now.

  He lifted his head and looked at me for a moment before he stood and padded into the living room, his long claws clicking on the hardwood floor. There wasn’t a space big enough for him to lie down so I pushed the coffee table over to make room beside the couch. It was more than a little surreal to be sitting a foot from a massive werewolf, watching a movie together. Surreal, but oddly not uncomfortable.