by Amber Jaeger
I looked up, surprised. “Nothing really, my life is pretty boring.”
“Indulge me.”
I sighed. “Okay, well, most days I go to school. Before I leave, I have breakfast with Grandma and make sure she has an easy lunch laid out and things to keep her occupied. She’s usually okay if I leave some laundry and magazines and turn the television to the station she likes.”
Jordan nodded. “I’m familiar with most of those things. What is your schooling like?”
I grimaced and moved on to sifting flour and sugar together. “It’s pretty much everyone my age in town heading to the same building and being stuck there for seven hours while the teachers repeat the same boring stuff over and over.”
“You don’t like school?” he guessed.
“No, it’s not that. I just don’t really get along with the other kids and most of the teachers are pretty apathetic. Mostly, we read a lesson out of a book and then do practice problems or answer questions.”
“You are friends with these other students.”
I cracked an egg over my flour mountain. “Not really. They’re interested in a lot of things that I’m not. So I just do my school work and go home.”
Jordan nodded thoughtfully. “What is a swim team?”
That stirred a little regret. “A group of girls join together and swim in the pool. They practice almost every day and go to things called swim meets and compete against other teams.”
“What are they competing for?”
I smiled at that, surprised by things he wasn’t aware of. “We race each other to see who is the fastest. Each girl has a specialty, like backstroke or freestyle and whoever wins earns points for their team. The team with the most points wins the meet. And then we do it over and over, against different teams. At the end of the season, one team is recognized as the best.”
“Is your team ever the best?”
“Last two years in a row,” I said proudly.
“And what were you best at?”
“Relays and breaststroke.”
“So why did you quit?”
My hands froze over the dough. I didn’t realize he had been listening so closely to me the night before. “My grandma needed me.”
Jordan leaned forward, clearly not satisfied with my answer. “Didn’t she need you before?”
“She got worse after Lincoln died … disappeared.”
“So you must have recently quit?”
I attacked the dough with more force than necessary. “I quit the day he died, or whatever.”
“Why?”
His eyes were glowing, inches from mine as I kneaded the dough. I couldn’t lie to him, I could tell he would know. “I didn’t want to have to be around other people.”
“Wouldn’t that have made the loss of you brother easier?”
His questions were irritatingly pointed.
“Not for me. They wanted to ask questions and talk about it and cry about it and I didn’t.”
Jordan sat back, surprised. “You didn’t cry over your brother?”
“Of course I did,” I snapped. “In private.”
“He really was the only person you had?” he asked wonderingly.
I nodded, trying not to cry again.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
“Hey, it wasn’t your fault, right?” I said roughly.
“Right,” he echoed.
I seasoned my apples with spices. “So, what’s your next question?”
“Tell me about your dad.”
I suppressed a groan. “That’s not a question.”
Jordan cocked his head to the side. “What’s your dad like?”
I silently wrapped the apples in packets of dough for a few minutes before answering. “His name is Travis. He drives a truck for a living. He looks a lot like my brother.”
Jordan toyed with a spice jar, waiting for more.
I sighed. “He’s … gruff. He used to be happy when my mom was alive. Whenever he’s around he’s just angry and a jerk. He yells a lot and gets Grandma riled up and messes up how I do everything around the house.”
“You don’t like him?” Jordan guessed.
“He doesn’t like me.”
“Why not?”
“No idea,” I snapped. “I can’t do anything right, I’m too smart for my own good, I don’t listen—take your pick.” I slammed my little creations onto a steel sheet and shoved them into an oven that didn’t seem too hot.
Jordan seemed to take the hint. “Maybe you’d like to ask me something?” he asked, trying to ease the tension.
“Tell me about your uncle.”
It was his turn to grimace. “That’s not a question.”
“All right, what is your uncle like?” I asked, glad not to be the only one uncomfortable.
Jordan sighed and ran a hand through his gorgeous hair. “He is old, very old. And my guardian. He’s very opinionated.”
“About what?” I asked, carefully sweeping my scraps of dough off the table.
“Everything. Humans.”
My head snapped up. “He doesn’t like humans?”
Jordan shook his head. “It’s not that he doesn’t like them, he doesn’t like to associate with them. He thinks things should be separate.”
I heard a silent admission in that. “So what does he think of you and me?” I blushed at the way that sounded.
Jordan played with a little piece of dough I had missed. “He doesn’t know.”
“He doesn’t know?” I repeated. “How could he not know? I thought he was the one that owned this place? And he is your guardian?”
Jordan shrugged sheepishly. “He’s away right now. He often has to deal with issues that come up between the tribes.”
“And when he gets home …” I drew out.
Jordan squared his shoulders. “Then he and I will need to have a conversation.”
“A conversation? You mean you’re going to have to tell him you somehow chained a human to his fortress.”
“Yes …”
“Okay,” I said, my hands on my hips. “And how do you think he’s going to take that?”
“Not well,” he admitted.
“Not well as in this whole deal is off?” Panic well in my chest.
“He can’t do that, it’s already been done,” Jordan reassured me.
“So what will he do?” I asked, really starting to panic. My dad would kill me then lock me in the basement if he thought I had some secret boy visiting me in the night. What a djinn would do, I had no idea.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
It was getting hard to breathe. “What does he typically do when he finds out something he doesn’t like?”
Jordan’s face paled and that was enough for full on panic to settle over my body and mind.
Ash entered in a small door I hadn’t noticed and went to whisper something in Jordan’s ear. His grim face melted in relief. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to see something. I’ll be back in a moment.”
I nodded numbly and turned to check the oven. As soon as he left out the secret doorway, I fled out the hall I had come in through. Panic made my feet fly; I had to get out of there. I was very familiar with what angry male guardians were capable of and didn’t want to be around when his uncle found out about his pet human.
I flew through the main hall and out near the stables that housed the demon horses. I skirted them and took off in the darkness.
Tears poured down my cheeks. What had I gotten myself into? Determined to get myself out of it, I stopped and wiped my face. With a deep, calming breath, I oriented myself with the nearby sound of Lake Michigan lapping on its shore. Nightmare Town was on Lake Michigan. My Nightmare Town house was on Lake Michigan.
I entered the sparse dune forest and plowed through the root riddled sand, determined to make it to the shore before Jordan even knew I was missing. If I could just make out enough of the shoreline in the darkness I would know which way to head. Nightmare Town sat in a
small bay with a small outcurving of land to the south and a much larger one to the north.
I burst onto the wet sand rimming the lake and almost pitched in. Gasping, I blinked furiously, willing my eyes to adjust to the starlight. The shoreline to the north was almost a perfect line and to the south it seemed to bow out almost a quarter of the way into the horizon. Relieved, I headed south with my head down and sand flying out behind my running feet.
The lake was eerily dark with no lights of cities and towns to mar its length. My hands pumped at my sides and I was entirely out of breath when I noticed a light coming up my smoke chains. I almost stopped, relieved that it was time to wake up. But it wasn’t the rosy glow that I was used to seeing; it was sharp silver light. Jordan had said the bracelets and chains were like an anchor to tether me and I picked up the speed, unsure of what was happening.
A wet slapping of sand came up behind me and I tried to run faster. Terrified, I looked over my shoulder only to see a dark shadow coming over me. My scream was cut off by a hand to my mouth and an arm around my shoulder, taking me down into the wet sand. The falling weight of the body on top of mine forced what little air I had in my lungs out and I struggled to get free. But the shadow rolled with me, pinning me on my back in the sand. The only thing I could make out in the sparse light was masculine shoulders.
I kicked and flailed, trying to shove my attacker off but he kept me easily pinned and the hand over my mouth didn’t budge. Determined to get free I opened my mouth wide and took a big bite.
The shadow keeping me down swore softly and jerked his hand away. Praying my aim was true, I threw my fist out from my shoulder and hit something hard—very hard. My attacker and I both swore but I was less injured and managed to squirm from under the hips holding mine down. More trees meant less light so I took off into the dune forest again, praying I wouldn’t run head on into a tree.
“Bixby!” Jordan hissed behind me. “Stop!”
I slowed but didn’t stop. He was my attacker? He must be furious I had run. Dodging around another tree, I skidded to stop and dropped to the ground, listening for his pursuit. There was nothing to hear, save the constant lapping of the lake.
Sweating and frightened, I craned my neck to see if I had been followed but could see nothing but broken up stars between dark tree trunks.
“Bixby,” came another strained whisper. “Please, come to me.”
I shifted on the dry leaves, praying he couldn’t track me my by smoke chains. A cascade of leaves burst from the trees behind me and I dove around the same tree I had been hiding behind. Jordan scooped me up on the other side and took off running. I bounced as he ran, my stomach slamming sickeningly into his shoulder. More leaves scattered behind us, the noise deafening in the otherwise peaceful quiet. We were being chased.
I pressed my hands into Jordan’s lower back to raise my head up and found myself eye to eye with a creature almost totally encompassed in the darkness.
With a squeal I tucked my head back down, trying to be as aerodynamic as possible. The nausea inducing chase lasted forever with Jordan zigzagging around trees, sliding over fallen leaves and tripping over hidden roots. Just as I thought maybe I could escape better on my own, he slammed me to the ground and covered my body with his.
“Be quiet,” he breathed in my ear, his hair tickling my face. I had no choice but to comply. The weight of his body made pulling air into my lungs almost impossible.
We stayed that way for several minutes as the shuffling of leaves moved further and further away from us. Finally, Jordan pulled himself up and me with him.
“What—” I tried to asked, only to have his hand slam over my mouth again. In the scarce light, I could barely make out the shaking of his head. He put his other hand over his mouth, motioning for silence. I nodded in agreement.
Slowly, silently, he led me out of the dune forest and into a lit yard of the fortress. He still didn’t say anything as we crept around the massive barns and in the front entry. It wasn’t until we were in the main hall that he broke his silence.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he bellowed, his anger barely restrained.
“Me?” I shouted. “You frigging attacked me out there.”
“You shouldn’t have been out there! Do you have any idea what could have happened to you? Do you know what lurks out in those woods?”
“I know what I was planning on happening—me getting to Nightmare Town and out of this mess!” I regretted the words almost immediately.
“This mess is what allowed your brother to come back to you,” he said coldly.
“No,” I argued, “what allowed my brother to come back to me was agreeing to be your little encyclopedia, answer your questions. I had no idea you really existed, I had no idea you were governed by some angry, human hating uncle. What’s going to happen to me, huh? Do you even know? This is like a little game to you, an amusement. But it’s my life and I’m scared.”
My chest heaved, trying to pull in the oxygen it had been lacking for what felt like hours. Jordan panted and paced, refusing to look me in the eye. I caught his shoulder when he passed me for the fourth time. “What do you really want from me? What’s going to happen to me?”
He stepped in closer to me and grabbed my upper arms when I tried to back away. That close to him I had to crane my neck to see his face and was surprised by the pained look on it.
“Bixby,” he whispered, pulling me in closer.
I was suddenly more fearful than I had been in the woods. His grip was painfully tight but I couldn’t squirm out of it. “Jordan, you’re hurting me.”
“I would never hurt you,” he said fiercely, unmindful of his fingers digging into my flesh. I was horrified to see a glistening of tears in his eyes. “I can’t change what I am, I can’t change the world I live in but I will never hurt you again and I will never let anything in this world do so either.”
“Again?” I echoed, still trying to pull free of him. His intensity was unnerving. I felt hot and cold and every time his breath fanned out across my face I had to stop myself from leaning in closer.
Again he ignored my words. “I have watched you for years. Years, Bixby! And every second of every year I spent falling for you. Every tear you cried over your mother, I watched fall. Every lonely moment you spent on the beach, I was there. Every time your selfish brother disregarded your feelings I had to stop myself from running to you, telling you there was someone who cared for you more than you cared for yourself.” He took a quavering breath and released one of my arms. Pins and needles jabbed from my elbow to my finger tips as the blood flow returned.
“Jordan, I—” he cut me off with a gentle finger to my lips. Despite my fear and confusion, heat blossomed in my chest.
He looked into my eyes as if searching for something then swept his hand across my cheek and into my hair, pulling my face to his.
His lips met mine and he let my other arm go to pull me closer. He touched his lips to mine, softly over and over, building in intensity. I gasped when the kiss deepened and he grabbed my arms again, this time to shove me away.
His hands shook and he wouldn’t look me in the eye. “I’m sorry,” he said, his chest heaving.
I touched a finger to my tender lips, unable to speak.
Jordan stepped closer to me again and gently smoothed out the sleeves of my dress and tried to fix the falling pieces of my hair back into my braid.
My racing heart would not slow down and I waited for some explanation. He took his time fixing my dress and brushing crushed leaves from it and my hair. Finally, he took a deep breath and looked me in the eyes.
“I’m sorry for taking your first kiss, I was too rough. But you had to know.” He took another deep breath. “I love you. I have been in love with you for years. There are so many things I can’t change and so many things I am sorry about but you have to know. I love you.”
I could feel my mouth opening and closing, trying to force an appropriate answer out.
&
nbsp; Jordan shook his head. “You don’t have to say anything. We have forever to figure this out.”
Chapter 13
GRANDMA WAS STANDING OVER ME holding a basket when I woke up.
“Hey,” I said groggily, pulling myself out of bed. My night with Jordan seemed blurred, like I had slept another eight hours after being with him. And for all I knew, I had. “Holy crap, it’s ten a.m.?”
Grandma shook her basket at me. Her clothes matched, her hair was combed and she had a smile on her face. “Market?” she asked.
A glance at my calendar showed it was the last Farmers Market for the season. “Sure,” I said, trying to gather my thoughts. I ran a hand through my hair, sure I should have leaves and sand stuck in it; I didn’t but I did have five finger print bruises on each arm.
Linc refused to go with us, citing mysterious other things that “needed to be taken care of.” Dad couldn’t refuse me going unless he wanted to ground me from the grocery store too.
It was bright and warm with a cold breeze. Grandma wandered happily up and down the rows of stalls and I trailed behind her, reliving the night before. My dreams had always made sense when my life didn’t—now they had flip-flopped. I squinted into the morning sun, trying to focus on shopping. There wasn’t a ton of produce to choose from but I picked up some peaches and apples.
“Apples!” I thought. I hoped whoever ran Jordan’s kitchen had found my apple dumplings before they started a fire. Grandma wandered ahead of me, looking for mums and broccoli. While the first was easy to get, the second wasn’t.
We had been to every stall and no broccoli. “Grandma, it’s fine, we have to go to the grocery store anyway. We can get some there, okay?”
She shook her head and planted her feet. “No. Broccoli.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, “broccoli.” There would be no convincing her that there was none there or that we would be getting some from the store shortly. Experience told me my best bet would be distracting her with some caramel corn from the vendor down the way.
“Let’s go look again,” I lied, leading the way.
“Broccoli!” Grandma shouted, flinging her arm out to point. And she was right; a girl across the way had some in her basket.
