by Kiki Howell
KIRSTEN WOKE UP alone.
That realization terrified her.
The fire was little more than embers. Jacob’s sword was propped on a rock next to it. And she was completely, desperately alone.
She and Jacob had spent the rest of the previous day setting up a rudimentary camp up the hill. They had a small pile of wood and kindling for fire, and they’d cleaned the empty egg shells and filled them with water so as not to have to go down to the lake every time they wanted a drink. After that, she’d spent hours going through the contents of her bag yet again, scribbling minute notes in a small handbook she kept with her supplies.
She’d tried to put down every little thing she remembered about each spell ingredient she had on hand, hoping it’d spark an idea on how they’d ended up in this world, and how she could get them back. By the time she’d given up because the light from the fire wasn’t enough to keep writing, all she’d found was a pounding headache.
The headache was gone now, but she’d have gladly suffered through another one rather than sit there, Jacob’s jacket still covering her lap, but with no Jacob anywhere in sight. Panic flooded her in a flash. Where was he? What if he was hurt? What if the demons had taken him? What if she hadn’t cured his infected cut as she’d thought she had, and he was stumbling around, feverish and delirious?
Fear tightened her throat and she couldn’t manage to even call his name. She stood, clutching the jacket to her chest, and searched frantically around her and down the hill. A boulder hid part of the view—they’d built the fire behind it to keep it inconspicuous—and she walked to the side to have a better view down to the lake.
When she saw Jacob climbing up toward her, with a fish dangling from the branch he had painstakingly fashioned into a spear the previous night, she didn’t know whether to laugh or yell at him. As he reached her moments later, her hands were clenched into fists in his jacket; had it been made of anything less sturdy than leather, surely she would have ripped it to shreds.
“Hey! You’re awake!” He flashed her his brightest smile. “Look what I caught!”
He had the gall of looking proud of himself. She glared for all she was worth.
“Asshole.”
That wiped the smile off his face. Now frowning, he started to open his mouth, no doubt to ask what was wrong. The complete and utter idiot.
“Yes, I’m awake. I woke up alone with no fucking clue where you might be. Thanks for making me age twenty years in five minutes.”
His mouth snapped shut and his frown deepened.
“I didn’t want to wake you up,” he said after a moment. “You didn’t look like you got much sleep last night, so...”
She was about to snap at him and ask how he would know about that, but then she realized that she knew. Of course she knew. He’d kept watch on her, on their little camp, kept the fire going until morning. That certainly explained the deep circles under his eyes.
“How about you?” she said gruffly. “When are you going to get some rest?”
He shrugged. Giving her the spear to hold, he added kindling to the embers and prodded them to get the fire started again.
“I slept enough while I was ill,” he said. “And I figured you’d want something other than eggs for breakfast.”
He took the spear back from her. Only now did she notice he’d already cleaned the fish. Its head was gone, and its belly was open, revealing pink flesh. Settling down next to the fire, Jacob held the fish above the flames. After a few seconds, Kirsten sat next to him, draping his jacket over her shoulders.
“Sorry I snapped at you,” she muttered. “But I got really scared. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’d be fine,” he said, keeping his eyes on the fish as he rotated the spear. “I’m the one who’d have died if you hadn’t been here.”
She knew he meant she’d healed his cut, but he was forgetting something.
“Well you got hurt because you got between me and those demons, so...”
As the scene replayed through her mind, she could see his blood more clearly than anything, could practically feel it on her hand. She rubbed two fingers against her palm, chasing away the phantom sensation, but something lingered, a tickling at the back of her mind, the way she always felt whenever she forgot to do something. What was she forgetting now?
She was still trying to put her finger on it when Jacob pulled the fish away from the fire. The outside looked crispy, and the pink flesh had turned ivory. It smelled wonderful, and she was already salivating.
“I’ll eat some,” Jacob said, now looking at her. “We’ll wait a while to see if I get sick or something, and if I’m okay you can have the rest.”
She started to shake her head before he had even finished.
“No way.”
“For all we know it’s poisonous—”
“And if it is,” she cut in, “do you really think I’d want to be here alone for the rest of my life?”
She held his gaze, hoping to show him she meant every word, but as his expression slowly softened, she started to wonder if he was reading more in her face than she meant to share. When he said her name in a questioning whisper, she looked away, dropping her gaze to the fish.
“I’m hungry,” she said, and felt embarrassed when her voice squeaked a little. “Are we sharing this thing or not?”
JACOB WAS BEING STUPID. He knew he was being stupid, but he couldn’t seem to stop.
It meant nothing. Kirsten had been more than half-asleep, she hadn’t had any idea what she was saying. He shouldn’t hold on to her words.
And yet, there he was, turning that sleepy murmur over and over in his mind and unable to focus on the fish glittering around his ankles in the early morning sun.
The thing was, something had changed in the way Kirsten looked at him. Or maybe, he wanted to believe something had changed. He’d first seen it two days earlier when the demon’s visit had scared her so much. He’d seen it again yesterday when they’d shared their first fish. And today again, when he’d gently shaken her awake earlier and she opened sleepy eyes. He hated waking her, but she’d made it clear she’d been spooked when he’d left without warning.
“Hey,” he murmured, unable to refrain from pushing a strand of hair out of her face. She’d bound her hair in a braid, but it had come loose during the night. “I’m gonna go find us something to eat. You just sleep some more, okay?”
Only when she pressed into his touch did he realize his fingers were still stroking her cheek. Her eyes fluttered close as she mumbled a sleepy, “’Kay. Love ya.”
It had taken all of his self-control not to reply in kind. He knew she didn’t mean it that way. Things were over between them, had been over for a long time. This had been... nothing. Her exhaustion tapping into irrelevant memories. She’d spent most of the night turning back and forth under his jacket, murmuring indistinctly about what he thought were spell ingredients. She was still trying to figure out how to get them out of this place, and he had faith in her. She’d get them home. All he had to do was keep her in good health, and she’d do the rest.
And it would probably keep things a lot smoother if he didn’t let his heart get in the way.
It took him another half hour or so, but he finally managed to spear two fish. They’d probably tire of those the same way they’d tired of the eggs, but they needed to eat something and keep their strength up.
When he turned back toward the shore, he found Kirsten sitting on the same large flat rock where he’d left most of his clothes. It wasn’t really all that cold, but it wasn’t warm enough either for clothes to dry easily, so he’d stripped down to his boxers before going in to fish. Suddenly feeling as self-conscious as he had the first time he’d undressed in front of her, he almost tripped in the water. His flailing as he regained his balance only fueled his embarrassment, and his face felt like it was on fire by the time he stepped out of the water and joined Kirsten.
“Been there long?” he asked,
trying—and failing miserably—to sound casual.
“A little while,” she said, holding out her hand. “Want me to hold that for you?”
After a second of confusion, he realized she meant his spear and his catch. He’d meant to grab the sharp stone from his pocket so that he could prepare the fish, but maybe he could do that with his pants on. He gave her the spear and grabbed his jeans.
“Wait,” Kirsten said before he could do more than raise a foot. “You’re wet, your clothes are going to be drenched. Let me...”
He knew the look of concentration on her face; it was the same expression she always had when she focused on her magic. He couldn’t see any ingredients or anything on her, though.
“What are you doing?” he asked warily.
Her empty hand rose at her side, her fingers wiggling. “Drying you. Hush.”
“I thought you needed your powders and things for magic.”
“Not for something as basic as warming air. And I said hush.”
Jacob kept quiet after that, but he wished he could have said it didn’t look basic at all to him, not when he could see ribbons of light emerging from Kirsten’s fingertips and wrapping around him. Their touch was light as air—because it was air, as she’d said. Luxuriously warm air, like a warm breeze from the south in the fall, curling around him and drying him. And for all that it was nothing more than air, it felt like having her hands on him.
Goose bumps erupted all over his arms and legs, and other parts of him started to take an interest. His boxers wouldn’t hide that for long. She wasn’t done, but he resolutely put his jeans on, tugging them up before his body could betray him.
He was about to thank her when sharp, guttural sounds coming from a few feet away startled him. Caught in her magic and the sensations running through him, Jacob hadn’t noticed that they had visitors. The two demons, on the other hand, had clearly noticed Kirsten’s magic.
This time, Gertruh and Taleeh didn’t run in fear. Instead, they shouted as they came closer, each picking up small rocks and throwing them in Kirsten’s direction. Jacob barely had time to step between them and Kirsten. He batted one of the rocks away with his hand, but the other hit his chest. It was sharp enough to scratch his skin. His nostrils flared at the smell of his own blood.
“Stop that,” he demanded, trying his best not to shout. He held both hands out toward Gertruh and Taleeh, though they looked unimpressed.
Behind him, he could hear Kirsten getting to her feet, a muttered curse on her lips.
The demons continued to chatter angrily. Both picked up more stones.
“Jacob? What’s going on?”
“They really don’t like magic. I suggest a strategic retreat. Nice and slow, no sudden movements.”
Keeping his eyes on the demons, he crouched down to pick up his shoes and shirt. Just as he was standing again, the demons threw more stones. With his hands full, he couldn’t have batted them away if they had not hit a shimmering curtain of light a foot or so in front of him.
“Not good,” he told Kirsten as the demons shrieked and stumbled back. “No more magic. Let’s not antagonize them anymore.”
“So what? I’m supposed to let them stone us?”
He didn’t have a good answer for that. Kirsten’s intervention stopped the demons, and Jacob kept an eye on them even as he and Kirsten retreated back up to their camp. He had a bad feeling about what had happened; somehow, he doubted the incident was over.
IT HAD BEEN A LONG night, both before and after Jacob had returned home. Nicholas hadn’t caught much sleep at all, and now he was yawning repeatedly as he watched coffee percolate into the pot. He’d already downed two mugs full of blood, but maybe coffee would give him the jolt he needed to function.
“Oh my God it smells like Heaven.”
He turned to the door. Kirsten was walking in, looking a little unsteady, her hair in disarray. She wore a tee-shirt and sweatpants, both items belonging to Jacob and slightly too big for her.
“I could smell it all the way to my room... Can I have some please?”
Nicholas eyed the pot. It couldn’t possibly hold more than three quarters of a mug. His mug. His coffee. But Kirsten’s eyes, darkened by deep circles, made it clear her need was bigger than his. Swallowing a sigh, he pulled out a mug for her, emptied the coffee pot in it, and brought it to her along with the sugar pot.
“Bad night?” he asked, taking a seat at the table like she had.
Her eyes dropped half-closed when she took her first sip and practically moaned.
“No,” she said, lowering the mug again. “I slept like a baby. Lots of missed sleep to catch up on. It’s nice to be back.”
She tilted her head, giving Nicholas the tiniest of frowns. “Did Jacob tell you what happened to us?”
Nicholas nodded. “He gave us the Cliffs Notes. Are you all right?”
She drank some more, minus the moan this time.
“I’m caffeine deprived,” she said. “And starving. And I could sleep for a week. And I was supposed to have lunch with my brother the day after we left, so God knows how worried he must be. But I’m fine.”
“Well, the day after you left is today,” Nicholas said, standing and going to the fridge. “So I doubt your brother is worried quite yet. I can’t do much about your sleep, but I can whip you up something for breakfast. Any preference?”
“Anything but eggs,” she said at once. “And what do you mean, today is the day after we left? We were there for almost a week.”
Nicholas answered as he checked the directions for the pre-mixed pancake batter. Andrew and Jacob could make those up from scratch, but Nicholas—who still hadn’t had a drop of coffee yet—couldn’t be bothered to try.
“Jacob told us you were gone for a while, but only a few hours passed here. Either time in that place doesn’t work the same way, or you traveled back in time.”
When he glanced back at her, he found her studying the contents of her mug with a thoughtful expression. He eyed the coffee pot mournfully; why was it taking so damn long?
“That’s... unexpected,” Kirsten said. “But in a way it makes sense. If time passes faster there, they can breed and train warriors faster, which explains why they just keep coming through. That’s... not a cheerful thought.”
Nicholas had to agree on that. The next few minutes passed in silence as he did a decent job of making pancakes—or at least, he thought he did. By the time he set a plate in front of Kirsten along with a bottle of syrup, Jacob walked in, yawning widely enough to unhinge his jaw.
“Smells good,” he mumbled. “Any pancakes left?”
And with that, he made a beeline for the coffee pot, which finally contained enough coffee to fill a mug. Nicholas’ glowering was lost on him, and he helped himself to the coffee before sitting down at the table across from Kirsten.
With a long-suffering sigh, Nicholas prepared more batter while coffee continued to brew. When Andrew walked in a moment later and started to approach the coffee pot, Nicholas swatted at his fingers with the spatula he’d been using to flip the pancakes.
Andrew glared at him.
“What the—”
Nicholas glared right back.
“My coffee. Don’t touch it.”
Andrew rolled his eyes at him, but he let it go and helped himself to some blood instead. Again, the kitchen was very quiet, until Andrew had sat down and Kirsten cleared her throat.
“Andrew? Did you ever show Cara’s diaries to Julie?” she asked. “I’m thinking the key to stopping the demons might be in there.”
Nicholas turned very slowly toward the table. Andrew’s eyes were just as wide as Nicholas had expected. They shifted from Kirsten to Jacob, and a definite look of reproach crept in.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Jacob muttered. “If I hadn’t told her, we’d still be stuck there.”
Andrew’s answer, although wordless, was quite clear. He stood and, taking his breakfast with him, left the room. Nicholas’ sigh
, this time, had nothing to do with coffee deprivation. He finished cooking Jacob’s pancakes, finally filled his mug with concentrated caffeine, and went to look for Andrew. This was not going to be a fun conversation.
..
Chapter Twenty
“ARE THEY FOLLOWING?”
Kirsten’s words came out breathless and uneven. Back home, climbing up the hill back to their camp at a rapid pace wouldn’t have winded her, but here, it left her panting. She’d grown used to the thinner air, but it certainly wasn’t conducive to exertion.
“Just keep going,” Jacob muttered, and she took that as an affirmative.
Another two hundred yards and they would be there... and then what? They could defend the camp; there was only one way to access it, and they’d see demons coming up far in advance. But one way in also meant one way out. If more demons came to them than they could fight, they wouldn’t be able to flee.
She wanted to say this and check that Jacob realized they were trapping themselves, but out of breath as she was, she couldn’t express such a complex thought.
Not only that, but her bag of magical supplies was up there, and without it they wouldn’t have any hope to ever leave this place.
She’d tried to keep up the shield that had stopped the demons’ stones, but she was too tired. She kept walking, her pace slowing down every few moments.
When her foot caught up on a rock and she tripped, it was all she could do to throw her hands forward to break her fall. She groaned at the impact.
“Kirsten! Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I just... ow!”
Right as she was getting back to her feet, a stone hit Kirsten’s face, scraping her cheek. At once, she could feel blood trickle on her skin. She raised a hand to it, but Jacob’s fingers were there before her own, brushing delicately. She winced at the touch, then again when she noticed the fury on his face. There was something in his eyes, almost like flames... but no, that couldn’t be. She’d seen that strange light before, but only in vampire eyes.
Before she could even make sure she hadn’t imagined it, Jacob whirled around, facing the demons. Or rather, one of them. It was the tallest one; the other one was nowhere in sight. It had another stone in hand and was about to throw it when Jacob shouted, “Enough!”
