Take Me To Your Reader: An Otherworld Anthology

by Amy A. Bartol

  She should have known. Hadn't she wondered why a hot university freshman had invited her—a nobody seventeen-year-old—to a party? Hadn't she asked herself why Jason would suddenly show interest in her? In the three years they'd lived down the street from each other, they'd barely exchanged ten words between them.

  Yes, she had asked herself those things. But in the end, she'd decided that it was possible that he was just shy. Maybe he'd secretly wanted to ask her out for a long time, but hadn't known how to approach her.

  So she'd agreed to attend the party with him. She'd begged and pleaded with her parents to let her go, agreeing to an early curfew in a form of compromise. She'd spent far too much of the money she earned at the local diner to buy an outfit that she thought made her look more sophisticated. And she'd taken extra time to get ready, really wanting to impress Jason.

  She offered to meet him at the party, not wanting him to have to leave after just two hours due to her early curfew. Her nerves nearly got the better of her when she parked at the large home where Jason told her to meet him. Boisterous people spilled out the open front door, mingling on the wide porch and vast lawn with drinks in hand.

  Who was she kidding, thinking she could do this?

  Jason knocked on her window before she could drive back home. His smile gave her a boost and she finally dared to step out and join him.

  He introduced her to a number of his friends and their dates. She had expected the university girls to be more standoffish and, well, spectacular. Although she met some girls like that, most of them were nice and friendly. Jason's friends also went on and on about how perfect she was for him, calling her a real prize. For the first time, she felt like she was holding her own in a social situation.

  About an hour after she arrived, she visited the bathroom. The door was so thin that she could hear everything happening just outside of it. It was awkward, but it turned out that it was how she found out why Jason invited her.

  "They do it every year," a female voice said. "They call it Dog Days."

  "I don't get it," another female said. "Why would they deliberately choose to go out in public with such ugly girls?"

  Kyra's face paled as their words registered. She considered the many plain girls she'd met that evening. Heat rose in her cheeks as she dried her hands and stared at her own unremarkable reflection in the vanity mirror.

  "It's a contest among the freshmen. They all contribute. The guy voted as having the biggest dog of a date wins the whole pot."

  It had taken Kyra a couple of minutes to compose herself enough to leave the bathroom. She avoided the gazes of the girls standing outside the door when she walked past, but she heard their snickers.

  She got soaked running to her vehicle, but she was beyond caring whether her new outfit got ruined. She'd probably burn it now, anyway.

  Once she tore out of the parking area, the vehicle moved on autopilot. She had no idea where she was going, but she had to get away from Jason and the awful party. She wasn't ready to return home and face her mortification by telling her parents what had happened.

  It took about ten minutes for the numbness of shock to ease and the tears to come. The extent of her humiliation had her wanting to leave town and never return. How could anyone be so mean to another person? Sure, she'd experienced her share of being picked on as a kid, but this went far beyond that. This was a boy telling her that he thought she was the worst possible date he could get.

  Is he right? she wondered.

  Pain lanced through her as she questioned her self-worth. She knew better than that. The true "dog" in this situation was him, not her.

  That was easier to think than to believe.

  After a while, she tried to stop crying long enough to concentrate on her driving and figure out where she was. It was dark…much darker than usual for this time of night, even with the storm clouds filling the sky. She registered that there weren't any lights or other vehicles driving down this particular stretch of road. Where in the world was she?

  As she strained to read a passing road sign, the vehicle skidded over a deep puddle. Water shot up and over the hood, completely coating the windshield and obscuring her view. Adrenaline shot through her, making her skin prickle. Her foot eased off the accelerator and her grip tightened on the wheel. The last thing she wanted to do was hydroplane.

  The rain began falling even faster, battering her windshield in heavy sheets. This was crazy. She would drive to the next intersection and turn around.

  She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and swallowed a sob. When she glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror, her foot inadvertently pressed against the accelerator. God, she looked awful.

  A dark figure darted into the road. She barely saw it in the flash of her headlights. It moved fast, but stood tall on two legs. Impossibly tall.

  She was too terrified to even scream. Her foot slammed on the brake. She jerked the wheel to avoid hitting the shadowy figure. The vehicle hit another patch of water and started to spin. When she saw a thick wooden pole racing towards her, her paralyzed vocal cords finally eased enough to free her scream. She braced herself for the impact and prayed the vehicle's safety features kept her alive.

  Something large and solid leapt in front of the wooden pole. Her door impacted it. The vehicle propelled away from whatever she'd hit. The action hurtled her forward and to the side, causing her forehead to strike the steering wheel. After another brief second of spinning, the vehicle came to a shuddering stop in the middle of the road.

  Kyra stared straight ahead, oblivious to the blood trickling down her face from her hairline. Her choppy breathing filled the vehicle. The engine had cut off, but the headlights still shone and the wipers continued to slash across the windshield.

  So she saw the incredibly tall, lithe shadow approaching, and she saw that it wasn't alone.

  This can't be happening, she thought, even as she tried to turn the key in the ignition.

  Nothing happened. Whatever had been done to stop her vehicle had totally killed the engine. She was a sitting duck.

  She fumbled for the latch to her safety harness. Although the dark figures moved cautiously, her intuition screamed that they sought to harm her. Her eyes didn't move from them. They reflected no light even in the beams shooting from the front of her vehicle. They wore some kind of camouflaging clothing that allowed them to blend seamlessly with the night. She'd never seen anything like it.

  Just as her safety harness released, her door opened. Another scream lodged in her throat as she was yanked from the vehicle. She was tossed backwards like a bag of refuse, landing in a muddy puddle with an impressive splash.

  "Stay," growled the large male who had thrown her.

  Fear and insult made her want to snap out an argument, but she realized he was now surrounded by the dark figures. Although he stood about six feet, four inches tall, his opponents towered over him. He was dressed much like the guys at the party had been, wearing a short-sleeved shirt, black pants, and boots. He was also apparently unarmed. Despite that—and the fact that he was seriously outnumbered—it was the shadowy creatures who hesitated.

  "You know the routine," he said over the rain, his back to her. His deep voice was accented and familiar, but she couldn't place it. "If you want her, you have to get through me."

  The figures paused. Their heads twisted as they looked at each other, as though they were communicating without words. Kyra watched in frozen silence as the rain pelted her. Her heart thudded heavily enough that she felt it in her throat. She tried to rationalize what she was seeing.

  Who or what were these creatures? Who was this warrior-like male with the dark hair and such calm assurance? What did any of them want with her?

  Run, you idiot! she thought. But she couldn't move.

  Instead, she watched as the shadowy figures moved as one, surging towards the male. Long, dark weapons suddenly appeared in the hands of the attackers. Kyra couldn't imagine where the sword-like objects
had come from, as she hadn't seen any type of sheaths or harnesses around their waists.

  I'm dreaming, she realized. This is just a nightmare. I'll wake up any moment.

  But the rain felt cool and wet as it struck her skin. The sharp grit beneath her hands bit into the tender skin of her palms. The bright light of the weapon produced by the dark-haired male hurt her eyes.

  She knew she wasn't dreaming.

  The tendons in her neck stretched taut as she watched the male fend off his attackers. She counted seven as he met each strike with either his sword-like weapon or his fists. A couple of them were brought down by his powerful legs. He used whatever means necessary to defeat his enemies, who were much more slender and clearly less trained than he was.

  When the last one fell, the male let out a vicious curse. Her eyebrows shot up. Though she didn't know how, she sensed that she was in danger.

  Strong arms seized her from behind and dragged her from the ground even as the male turned in her direction. For the first time, she saw his eyes. They were the purest silver she'd ever seen, gleaming almost white in the light from her vehicle. Although he was focused on the enemy, the look in those eyes made the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

  "Release her if you want to live," the male said.

  It sounded like a cheesy line, but Kyra sensed the power behind the words. She guessed her attacker did, too. Its grip tightened around her ribcage, making her cry out. The male's eyes flickered briefly to her, then once again focused on her assailant.

  She tried to grasp the arms around her in order to escape, but the material of whatever clothing the creature wore wouldn't allow her to get a handhold. Undeterred, she kicked backwards as hard as she could. Her heels met with solid matter, but she hurt herself more than her attacker. Pain shot up her calves.

  The hold around her ribcage cinched tighter. Her breath left her in a quick whoosh, as though the creature was stealing it.

  The male's silver eyes flashed like diamonds catching sunlight. The creature flinched, then froze. The male charged with his weapon poised to strike. Kyra screamed, certain she was about to die.

  The next thing she knew, she was on the ground, covered in filth and dark, chalky residue that blended with the rain. She stayed on all fours, trying to figure out what had just happened. One moment, she was in the shadow-figure's grasp, and the next it just dissolved into nothing. Did that mean she was covered in the thing's remains?

  "Rise," the male said as he stopped near her.

  Her arms trembled. Though she didn't want to, she dared to look up at him. "What—what was—who—?"

  She couldn't form a coherent thought, never mind ask a question. She wondered if she really had wrecked her vehicle and was hallucinating. Her head hurt enough to justify the idea.

  "Another contingent will be right behind this one," he said.

  He reached down and encircled her waist with his large hands, lifting her so she stood in front of him. She had to crook her neck to look into his eyes, then wished she hadn't. His steely expression produced a whimper in the back of her throat.

  Pushing away from him, she ran towards her vehicle. Her bag was there. She needed to get away. She needed to get in touch with her parents.

  A squeak escaped her as she was swept off her feet. She found herself pressed against the male's chest as he scooped her up into his arms. Even as she opened her mouth to shout at him, his eyes flashed again. Her entire body relaxed. Every worry and concern fled her mind. She sagged against him, forgetting about her fear and pain and letting him carry her away from the street that remained empty aside from her abandoned vehicle.

  He smelled wonderful, she thought through the haze coating her brain. She sensed something familiar about his scent, but didn't know what it was. Heat radiated from beneath his drenched clothes, soothing her. Although she had no reason to feel any safer with this stranger than she had while facing the shadowy figures, she did.

  She wasn't sure how long they moved through the rain and darkness, but when she next began to feel more like herself, she realized they were inside some kind of storage facility. They stood among rows of high shelving filled with crates and containers. Dust tickled her nose, telling her it wasn't accessed often. Thin slivers of light filtered through the shelves to their right, coming from an unseen source. She heard machinery in the distance and guessed that another part of the facility was currently in use.

  The male set her on her feet. His eyes flashed again. Her fear resurfaced. When she tried to wriggle out of his grip, he tightened his hold.

  "Who are you?" she asked. Her voice shook. Her knees felt just as unsteady.

  He sighed. "We always go through this, Kyr. I fear we don't have enough time for the long version right now."

  She frowned. How did he know her name? Why was he leaving off the "a," almost like a nickname? What did he mean by always go through this?

  "You're just going to have to trust me for a moment," he said.

  Before she could argue, he reached behind her head, cupped her neck, and bent down to kiss her. A gasp caught in her throat, but never escaped. The moment their lips touched, the sense of familiarity that she'd experienced a couple of times since he appeared blossomed into a memory. The memory of his kiss.

  She closed her eyes and sank into his embrace, not having realized how much she craved it. A latent part of her mind sprang to life, reminding her of the intense attraction she shared with him. She savored the taste of him, the way his tongue felt when it touched hers, the way he made her feel as he caressed her. The kiss could have gone on forever and she still would have wanted more.

  When they finally parted, she stared up at him, blinking as memories shifted in her mind.

  "TaeDane," she breathed.

  She remembered that she called him Ty. She also remembered that the markings on his forearms glowed with ethereal light whenever they kissed, though she couldn't remember why.

  The corners of his eyes wrinkled with humor. "That was definitely easier—and more enjoyable—than the way we've been going about resurfacing your memories between lessons."

  She frowned. Although she remembered his name and the flavor of his kiss, and although she felt she could trust him, other important details remained cloudy. How could that be? Was he using some kind of hypnosis?

  "Not hypnosis exactly," he responded. Her eyes widened. "But I am capable of reading thoughts and controlling minds."

  Another word flashed though her head: Mynder.

  He nodded. "That's correct. I am your Mynder…the Dem-shyr. We were born on the same day, at the same time, under the same star. The connection was inevitable."

  His words made no sense. Under the same star? What did that have to do with anything?

  "Fortunately for both of us, we grew to like each other," he said, running his finger along the side of her face, then tracing her bottom lip with his thumb. A shiver coursed through her. She couldn't look away from his compelling gaze. "Not that you made it easy for me. You are as stubborn as they come. It's a good thing I couldn't resist your beauty."

  Embarrassment pinkened her cheeks. She looked away from him, turning her gaze downward. "I'm not beautiful," she murmured.

  His strong hand lifted her chin so she had no choice but to look at him again. After a moment of studying her, one of his dark brows lifted.

  "Interesting. I didn't think it was possible."

  She blinked. "Didn't think what was possible?"

  "For you to learn humility." He tilted his head and continued to stare at her. She once again lowered her gaze. Her face felt like it was on fire. "Your appearance is as it needs to be in order for you to learn your lesson here. Still, I never thought you'd master this one. It seems I was wrong."

  Something jiggled in the back of her mind. It helped ease her embarrassment over having all of his attention on her.

  "I'll bet that hurt you to admit," she said.

  "We'll just say you should never expect to hear it again."
/>
  For some reason, despite her lingering fear, his response made her want to laugh. She shook her head over the reaction. There were obviously bigger things to address than his male pride.

  "What did you mean by 'we always go through this?'" she asked. "And by 'between lessons?' And most importantly, what were those things that tried to hurt us?"

  His brow furrowed. His gaze moved up and down the aisle, probably assessing any potential danger or eavesdroppers before he replied. She found herself looking at the wicked shape of his mouth and couldn't help but hope he'd kiss her again to stimulate her memories in answer to her questions.

  When he looked back at her, he grinned. It transformed his face from handsome to sinfully sexy. Her heart galloped in her chest.

  "As much as I enjoy kissing you, KyrVawn, there is danger involved in resurfacing too many memories right now."

  She wanted to sink into the floor. How could she have forgotten that he could read her mind? How was she supposed to control her thoughts when he looked as magnificent as he did? What did it say about her that her attraction to him took precedence in her mind over the questions she had just asked?

  "Wait a minute," she said, interrupting her thoughts before they got her into even more trouble. "My name is Kyra Vaughn. That's not what you said, though, is it?"

  "Whenever you venture abroad, that's the name you take. It's a more commonly used linguistic format across the universe. But on our world, you are KyrVawn. You are the only daughter of the Guardians, ShayaVawn and BrunyrVawn. You are the Ascendant."

  Her knees failed her. He reached out and helped ease her to the ground, sitting beside her. They leaned against one of the crates sitting on the shelves.

  Had he said, on our world? Was he implying that she wasn't from this planet?

  He was out of his mind.

  "I have parents," she said, struggling to produce the words. "I've lived here my entire life."