Infinity Chronicles Book One: A Paranormal Reverse Harem Series

by Albany Walker

  Milo’s hand lands on my knee, he leaves it there without any explanation or reason. The weight and warmth gives me pause. The guys give touch so freely. I let my body ease into the cushion behind me and Milo relaxes with me. His palm drags up my leg and falls off to the side. He keeps it there, lightly toying with the seam of my baggy jeans.

  “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

  Dante’s eyes narrow and he opens his mouth before he frowns.

  “I mean, I just thought… I asked Oliver, and he said it wasn’t about me... us being here, but I just wanted you to know. I can go. I don’t want to get you in trouble.” I peer at Milo, I want him to know that’s what I was asking Oliver.

  Dante catches my attention when he waves his hand. “Seriously it’s nothing like that,” he responds, dismissing me easily. He walks over to the table and grabs a box with a hamburger inside, flipping the lid back. He looks at it with no real interest but picks it up anyway, taking the first bite. Without a word he comes over to the arm of the chair again and sits.

  “Here, sit.” I jump up and back away from them. One because it’s his room, house, whatever, so he should be able to sit. And two because their nearness does something to me that I’m not ready to look too closely at.

  All three guys are watching me, making me even more uncomfortable. “Laura, I’m fine. There are other places I can sit.” Dante motions with the burger still in hand to his bed or a desk chair near it.

  “It’s your house. You should be able to sit.”

  “Like I said. I am.” Dante’s brows rise in challenge. Completely comfortable after the weird phone call, he looks over at his friends. “Gonna need more furniture.”

  “I’ve been wanting you to get a couple chairs for a while,” Milo points out. Dante slides down into the seat I abandoned and pulls a lever on the side, extending the leg rest of a recliner as if to prove a point. Milo rolls his eyes then turns to look back at me. I fidget under their gazes. Crossing my arms then uncrossing them just to shove my hands in my pockets.

  “Soooo…” I prompt. I don’t know how to ask them about the strangeness I feel when they touch me. Earlier when it was happening it was natural, now I feel like they’re going to think I’m crazy.

  Oliver pats the tiny space between him and Milo. He scoots a little closer to the arm. “Come sit, let’s finish eating.”

  I eye the space where he’s indicating I should sit, skeptically. Milo even beckons me forward after he scoots as close to Dante as he can.

  Blushing at the thought of being crammed between them, I shake my head in refusal.

  “No, no it’s okay. Eat, I’m fine down here.” I sit on the floor in the same spot where Milo was laying earlier. Keeping the table between us. The guys readjust themselves back to a more normal position on the sofa.

  Dante lifts up the arm of his side of the sofa and brings a long black remote out. He points it behind me and loud music flares to life. He grimaces while still pointing behind me. ”Sorry,” he mutters when it’s a more subdued volume, before placing the remote back where he got it. I’m not familiar with the song, but the music has a hard driving beat I’d qualify as rock.

  Milo and Ollie seem to be done eating, so it’s just Dante finishing up. Milo gets up and heads over to a large TV hung on the wall behind me. He grabs a couple remotes to a gaming system and drops one in my lap as he passes. “What do you play?” he questions, plopping down next to me. I turn so we’re both facing the TV.

  “I don’t.” I shrug, picking up the surprisingly light controller. It’s white and black with a digital camo print. There’s a rectangular black pad in the middle. I flip it over and see additional buttons on the back.

  “You don’t like video games?” Milo continues as the TV screen comes to life.

  “I’ve just never really played them.”

  “Well that’s just not acceptable. A little mindless killing is good for your soul,” Milo mutters.

  “I don’t think you’ll find many people who agree with you on that. In fact, I think most people would vehemently disagree with you.”

  Milo chuckles then reaches over and taps a button on my remote, bringing it to life.

  We’ve only barely made my character, a kick ass chick with bright hair and skintight clothes when Ollie drops down on the other side of me. He places his palms flat on the ground, one behind me, and leans back. I sneak a peek at him from the corner of my eye, wondering why he didn’t sit next to Milo.

  “Ignore him. He’s trying to distract us so he’ll get a turn.” Milo sighs while selecting a map, and we’re transported to a wasteland where we have to fight for our lives.

  At first, I have a hard time controlling my character. I keep moving the wrong stick so I’m looking all around instead of aiming my gun in different directions.

  Before long I’m so engrossed in my half of the screen that I don’t notice when someone comes up behind me and kills me. My death scene replays in slow motion, as I watch a guy stick a knife in my throat.

  “He totally cheated. He snuck up behind me.” I’m outraged. That garners a few low chuckles from them.

  “That’s all part of the game sweetheart. My turn.” Ollie snatches my remote. He re-spawns as they call it in a completely different area of the map. Within seconds he’s running and shooting everyone with skilled efficiency. He slows, stalking behind someone and pulls the same maneuver that was done to me. “There, got him back for you,” he boasts, and without missing a beat he’s off and running. The screen moves so fast it’s almost dizzying.

  I look over my shoulder and spy Dante watching us with a tiny grin tipping his lips.

  He crooks his finger, urging me to him. I jostle Oliver a bit when I crawl in front of him, so I don’t block the TV. His eyes drop to me and his hands stop flying over the buttons. I hear the death gurgle I’ve come to recognize from a sniper knife attack.

  “Not fair,” he mumbles still watching me. I stand when I’ve cleared the viewing area and move to the opposite side of the sofa, leaving an empty cushion between Dante and me.

  This is nice and all; I’ve never really got to just hang out with anyone like this, but I really need to find out what’s going on. Why I feel this bizarre connection to them, and more importantly why I’m craving the feeling they invoke when they touch my skin.

  Dante blinks at me slowly, he’s always so quiet. Never saying more than what’s absolutely necessary. Even when we were at the diner, Milo and Ollie did most of the talking.

  “It’s getting kind of late,” I utter, hoping they’ll get the hint.

  “Where did you move from?” Dante asks, surprising me.

  “Michigan,” I respond without thought.

  “And before that?”

  “Wyoming, why?”

  “And before that?”

  I take a second to remember. We don’t always change states, sometimes just from one city to the next. ”What does it matter?”

  “I’m just trying to figure out some things,” Dante answers innocently.

  “Well isn’t that why I’m here? You acted like you knew something about me.”

  The noise of the video game cuts off, leaving only the low hum of music behind.

  “I’m just trying—” a throat clears interrupting Dante, before he starts again, “We’re just trying to figure how it is you’re here, and seem to be completely in the dark about what we are, and more importantly, what you are.”

  I throw my hands in the air. “See, that’s what I’m talking about. How is it you pretend to know me, but apparently you don’t have a clue yourself?” I stand up. Done with this whole thing. The tingles I’ve been feeling can probably be chalked up to regular teenage hormones. There isn’t anything special happening here, just a couple of boys playing with the new girl’s head. “Can you just take me home or drop me off at the diner? I’ll walk from there,” I rush out.

  “Laura,” Oliver calls to me.

  “What?” My tone should tell him I�
��m not in the mood to joke around. He takes my hand in his. The strange feeling starts in my palm and moves up my wrist. While I’m looking down at our hands, distracted, Milo comes over and takes my other hand. The feeling intensifies. Making its way over my chest. My breath catches on a gasp. It doesn’t hurt, nothing close to it, but it’s unfamiliar. I look up as Dante approaches from the front. Lifting a hand, he runs his fingers gently over the crest of my cheekbone. When his palm cradles my cheek, everything stops. Time itself seems to stand still.

  My heart starts anew with a hard thump in my chest. A metallic taste fills my mouth as my body flushes, sweat dotting my upper lip. A wave of dizziness washes over me. I stumble forward, squeezing Milo and Ollie’s hands on instinct to stay upright. I pant out a breath as hot saliva fills my mouth; I’m seconds away from puking.

  “Whoa,” I drop my forehead to Dante’s chest. Waiting for the feeling to subside.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Milo croons several times. His eyes widen when I tilt my face to look over at him.

  “What the hell was that?” My voice is a rough whisper, hysteria is edging in.

  “He’ll know now,” Dante mutters.

  A hand brushes up my back and I realize I’ve glued myself to his front and Milo and Ollie are equally stuck to my sides. I’m completely surrounded. I swallow, confusion making me wary. I back away from them, shaking my hands free. “Who will know now?”

  Dante cups my cheek and searches my eyes. “My brother,” he sighs. “He’ll know we found you.”

  Eleven

  Confused doesn’t begin to describe what I’m feeling. “I don’t understand what’s happening here.” My voice shakes nearly as much as the tremor that starts working its way up my body. Everything feels different. I feel twitchy, on edge, like I’m missing something, or I’m supposed to be someplace I’ve forgotten.

  Dante’s phone rings again, jarring me from my thoughts. His eyes don’t veer from my face as he ignores it. This is all too much. I take two steps back, pulling further away from them and shake my head free of the fog that is trying to consume me. What just happened isn’t normal, these aren’t some rampant teenage hormones, this is something I can’t explain. “Who are you people, what are you doing to me?” My eyes scan the room looking for an escape. I can’t be here anymore. I have to get out of this place.

  Ollie steps forward, his hand outstretched in an offering of calmness. “Laura, please don’t freak out.”

  “Freak out? I’m really close to losing my shit. I need to know what the hell is going on here. You can start by telling me how you’re doing this shit, did you put something in my drink?” My eyes immediately find the iced coffee still sitting on the table with only ice and a tiny bit of watered down liquid in the bottom.

  Milo huffs out a breath, then moves around the others, snatching up my cup. With his eyes firmly locked on mine he takes the straw between his lips and takes a deep pull, drinking every drop left, so there’s a loud slurping sound. He lets out an exaggerated sigh before placing it back on the table.

  “Really Milo, I’d expect this from Dante, but why are you acting like a dick? Laura, ignore him, this is messing with all of us.” He takes his eyes from his boyfriend, and stares at me with big rounded puppy-dog eyes.

  Dante is frozen behind him; his eyes widen and all the color drains from his face. “We have a problem,” he mutters.

  “No shit,” Milo barks out.

  “No, a bigger problem.” Dante grimaces before grabbing his forehead and squeezing at the temples. “He’s coming.”

  Ollie’s hand smacks down on his leg. “Fuck,” he curses. His neck twists looking between the three of us before he hesitantly takes a few steps closer to me. “I wanted more time to do this. You have to understand, there’s no way we could have known you didn’t have a clue about us. I’m not even sure how it’s possible, but clearly you have no idea.”

  My arms cross over my stomach, and I hunch forward. I lick my bottom lip as my teeth sink into the plumpness. I’m afraid. Not really of these boys, I don’t know why, but I don’t think they’re going to hurt me. I’m scared of what’s happening to us.

  Ollie reaches his hand out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry we didn’t understand how very difficult this would be for you.” His eyes stare into mine and his brows pull together. I want to run my hand over the crease there.

  “I don’t understand any of this,” I confess. Ollie’s lips turn down in a frown before the hand at my ear drops to my shoulder and he wraps his arms around me in an embrace.

  “Please don’t worry Laura, I promise this is a good thing,” he breathes into my ear. After a brief moment he releases me, leaving one arm slung around my shoulders, then turns us to face the other two in the room. Milo is sulking near the table he got my drink from and Dante is still standing where I left him. I look everywhere but at their faces, I don’t want to see the judgment I feel would be there. “The last thing I want to do is leave you without any answers, but Dante said Ares is coming, and if he’s coming we need you to be gone. Things will go from bad to worse if he finds you here.” I glance over at Dante and note his stiff posture, and the hard set of his jaw.

  “Can you take me home?” I ask, and as soon as I say it I feel a pang in my chest, like my heart knows I’m making the wrong choice. But my head needs time to catch up with what’s going on; I’m completely overwhelmed.

  Milo spins on his heel, turning away from me. There it is, the judgment I knew was coming. I drop my head, feeling shame over something I don’t understand.

  Dante rumbles out an affirmative response before I have the chance to change my mind and demand answers. I pull out from under Ollie’s arm and grab my backpack from the floor. When I lift the strap to sling it over my shoulder, the strap snaps, and the contents of the bag spill out onto the carpet. I sigh with defeat while dropping to my knees to shove everything back in.

  A large hand lands on mine. When I look up, Dante is crouched in front of me, his eyes searching mine. “This didn’t go the way any of us expected.” I can’t help but feel like I’ve let him down, that I’m lacking in some way.

  I tug my hand out from under his, and leaving a few of the papers on the ground I stand on shaky legs. “I need to go.” I can’t meet any of their gazes. I just want to be back in my tiny RV, where I know who I am. I don’t wait for a reply; I rush to the stairs and run down them as fast as my legs will carry me.

  Before any of them are out the door I’m already in the backseat, crammed as far into the corner as I can manage, with my useless backpack on my lap as a shield.

  Ollie glances into the car, before getting behind the wheel. “Ah, it’s just you and me so you can jump up here.” The lightness in his tone seems forced.

  I gaze up to the garage windows, not seeing anyone but knowing Milo and Dante are both up there, before gently pushing the seat forward and sliding out. I pull the door closed with a quiet click, before buckling my lap belt and resettling my backpack on my lap.

  I look out the side window to keep myself from watching the house or Ollie. He’s quiet as he drives down the long lane leading from the garage. He comes to a complete stop at the street. There’s no traffic, so I’m not sure what he’s waiting for. He shifts in the seat, and my eyes flick over at him. His hands are in his lap, and he’s staring down not looking at the road.

  “Ollie.” His eyes leap up to meet mine. He bites the corner of his lip and gives a slight shake of his head. When he reaches for the steering wheel, I turn back to the window.

  The ride home is silent. I have too many questions floating around in my mind to speak to him without demanding answers I’m not sure he’s willing to give. When we reach the diner I almost ask him to drop me off there, but the words die on my tongue as he speeds past.

  It feels like seconds later when, without direction from me, he pulls over to the side of the road as soon as the sign for Turtle Creek is visible. I take the hint, I’m so eager
to get out I forget to unclip the seatbelt. I grunt when it tugs me back as I try to get out.

  “Oh, Laura. You okay?” Ollie winces.

  “Fine,” I mutter fumbling with the latch. Once free, I slam the door closed. I don’t look back as I trek down the gravel shoulder to the entrance of the RV park. The car idols in the distance until I’m well into the bowels of the park.

  “Fuck!” I scream, stomping my foot on the ground. The door is locked, and my keys are nowhere to be found. I drop my backpack on the foldaway stairs leading up to the door of the RV. Crouching low I slowly pull out every piece of paper and book, all the bits of my life I’ve tossed in over the last few months, and still come up empty handed.

  I stand and raise my face to the sky. “Why today?” I don’t get an answer, not that I expected one. I check each window and door, knowing they will all be locked up tight. Eventually I make my way back to the front of the park, hoping the guy who fills propane tanks and takes care of the bathrooms is in his mobile home, he’ll probably have a phone so I can call a locksmith. It would be much cheaper to get ahold of Dante to ask if my keys are on his floor with the other shit that fell out of my bag, but there are a few problems. I don’t have his or Ollie’s numbers, and even if I did I probably wouldn’t use it.

  I tap on the warped screen door to the trailer in lot number one. It’s a single wide, with a wooden deck. There’s even a shed next to it. This trailer is the kind you’d expect to find in a trailer park, the ones that are actually designed to live in, a true mobile home. I hear a curse, followed by stomping footsteps. The older guy who answers narrows his eyes at me, and then looks behind me. I look over my shoulder out of curiosity. “What’d ya need?” he questions when he’s satisfied there’s no one else with me.

  My throat goes dry, “I lost the keys to my RV. I was—”

  “Where’s your momma?” he cuts me off.

  Not expecting the question, I stammer, trying to come up with a quick answer. “Oh, she… I… just got home from school. I stayed later with a friend to study. I think she was going to turn in some applications today, but I’m not sure when she’s getting back.” The lie stops me from meeting his eyes, but that’s nothing new. “I was hoping to use your phone to call a locksmith.”