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Urban Mythic: Thirteen Novels of Adventure and Romance, featuring Norse and Greek Gods, Demons and Djinn, Angels, Fairies, Vampires, and Werewolves in the Modern World

Page 278

by C. Gockel


  I stood frozen to the spot as he rose. Piercing blue eyes bored into mine as he whispered, “I will see you Friday night.” He strode from the room and let himself out the front door – good idea, since I couldn’t move. My feet were firmly rooted to the same patch of floor, and it was only after I was absolutely sure he had made his way beyond the earshot of our flat that I let out a small squeal. The nerves let themselves out of my body in bursts, and I jumped up and down.

  It was this lovely vision that greeted Emma and Victoria when they came home, bringing their animated chatter to an abrupt halt. Victoria raised one elegant eyebrow in question, and my words came in gasps. “Ull. Myhr. Asked. Me. Out!”

  Two more bodies joined in my happy dance, and we jumped around the sitting area like the schoolgirls that we were, until we fell laughing onto the various seats. It was Victoria who sat up first, asking solemnly, “What are you going to wear?”

  Within an hour, we’d ransacked our collective closets and come up with what we hoped was suitable attire for a date with the most eligible and most confusing bachelor on campus. It hadn’t been easy. None of us knew much about Ull, and since we’d never seen him go out with anyone, we had no idea what he liked. Emma offered her favorite dress, a summery eyelet with a pastel sash, but Victoria nixed it with authority. “Too innocent.”

  “Well, we don’t want him to think she’s easy!” Emma’s retort was in line with my way of thinking, but Victoria shook her head knowingly.

  “We don’t want him to think she’s too anything. Trust me ladies, a first date outfit must be ambiguous. It can’t say too much. It should be sexy, but not overt – classy, but not boring. Sweet, but not too innocent.” She rolled her eyes at our obvious naïveté. “You have to leave him guessing, wanting to learn more. That way, he’ll have to take you out again.” Emma and I had to throw in the towel. Victoria clearly knew way more than we did about this sort of thing.

  Without us to sidetrack her vision, Victoria quickly paired a lace – not eyelet – A-line dress, tight in the bodice and flaring to just above the knee, with simple flats for walking. A scarf completed the look, and we added a tailored coat in case the evening was chilly. I had to admit, it looked pretty sharp. I hoped it was worthy of Cardiff’s most desirable catch. And he was certainly that, even if his mood swings were considerably off-putting.

  I really hoped Cranky Ull stayed home. This was already scary enough.

  When Friday came, I was literally bouncing with nerves. I still wasn’t positive this was a good idea. My dating experience wasn’t extensive, but the handful of guys I’d been out with in Nehalem had all wanted something. Some wanted to find out what was wrong with Crazy Kristia; some had heard rumors and wanted me to tell their futures – like I had any control over what I saw. The rest just wanted to try to get on base.

  Ull seemed like someone who had everything – looks, money, brains. He didn’t know about my mental problem, so it wasn’t like he wanted to exploit that. And there was no shortage of girls around here who would have been more than happy to give him an all-access pass. There was nothing he could possibly want out of me – except maybe my fabulous notes – that he couldn’t go out and get for himself. Maybe, just maybe, he really did like me, not my quirky gift, or the way I filled out my jeans – my best asset, according to a highly inappropriate comment Ardis overhead at a football game and was kind enough to repeat to me. Starting fresh and winning people over just by being myself… wasn’t that what I’d been looking for when I came to Wales?

  “Just relax,” Emma soothed as she dusted gold eye shadow onto my lids. “He asked you out. I don’t think he’s ever asked anyone out here. He must be into you.”

  “I doubt that,” I mumbled. “He probably just feels guilty for borrowing my notes.” Either way, I’d been so anxious that I hadn’t been able to eat all day.

  “Tush,” came Victoria’s pert reply. She peeked from around the back of my head, where she was wielding a large-barreled curling iron through my thick mane. “Men don’t do anything they don’t want to do. He clearly wants to spend this evening with you. And why wouldn’t he? By the time we’re done with you, you’ll be the most beautiful girl on campus.” Her eyes set in steely determination as she curled and sprayed, creating the perfectly tousled waves I’d seen in her latest fashion magazine. When she was finished, Emma slicked gloss on my lips and handed me the tube.

  “Reapply every hour, as needed. Or whenever you’re done snogging!” She giggled, and I ducked my head. If only I could be so lucky!

  I stood in front of the full-length mirror under the critical gazes of my flatmates. Victoria ran her fingers along the base of my hair, lifting it for good measure before administering one final spritz of hairspray. “Absolutely beautiful,” she assessed.

  “Stunning.” Emma nodded her assent. “He won’t know what hit him.”

  As I looked at the stranger in the mirror, even I had to admit the girls did good work. I was definitely looking, if not feeling, my best. My stomach churned in anticipation. Victoria and Emma let themselves out, heading to the ice cream shop around the corner to give me some privacy when my date arrived.

  “We’ll see you when you get home… if you make it home!” Victoria trilled over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her. “I wouldn’t come home.” I heard her mutter as she walked away.

  “Me neither,” came Emma’s muffled reply through the door.

  Chapter 5

  At four o’clock on the dot, I heard an authoritative knock. With a deep breath, I picked up my purse. My intuition told me this was a very important moment. I waited for the inevitable blackout to embarrass me, but it didn’t come. For once my brain was functioning on all cylinders – I was vision free. Even a blind squirrel finds an acorn now and then.

  When I opened the door, Ull’s glorious figure stood on the other side. His thick, blond hair was in disarray from the Welsh wind. His perfectly-shined boots were the same black as his tight-fitting sweater, and defined forearms peeked out from pushed-up sleeves. The dark wash of his jeans highlighted the long, muscular shape of his legs. He raked a hand through his hair, brushing a piece away from his eyes, and lit up the entire flat with his radiant smile. My heart ached; no man could be so beautiful.

  I smiled shyly. “Hi.”

  “Hei hei,” Ull murmured. He reached out and took my hand. Then he raised my fingers to his lips, grazing the tips with a feather-like kiss. My skin burst into flames, waves of heat radiating toward my heart in slow pulses. The sensation was unnerving. I let out a nervous giggle as Ull guided me over the threshold and into the late afternoon sun with one hand on the small of my back. “Are you ready for the grand tour of Cardiff?”

  I nodded, not quite able to speak. We walked to the street where a shiny, black Range Rover waited, bearing the license plate NORSE1. Of course. Ull held my hand as I climbed into the passenger seat. My stomach flipped as his gaze slowly took in my bare legs and the hem of my skirt. His eyes darted to the low cut of my neckline. My stomach fluttered as I caught him staring.

  He was totally checking me out. I made a mental note to thank Emma and Victoria for their hard work on my appearance.

  “Kristia,” he said after he crossed to the driver’s side and climbed in. “You look delightful this evening. Absolutely angelic.” He clicked his seatbelt. “Are you sure you want to spend time with a rogue like me?” Beneath his smile was a serious undertone.

  “Rogue, huh? I guess that explains the staring.” I looked pointedly at my chest and giggled as the tops of Ull’s ears turned pink. His grimace was the last dark look I saw that night. He seemed to have made a decision, though I couldn’t guess at what it was.

  He glanced at my dress with a wry chuckle. “So I guess ice skating is out.”

  I panicked, trying to remember if he’d mentioned wanting to do something sporty.

  “We can go back – I can change; it’s–” His laughter stopped me.

  “I was teasing you, Kr
istia. We can skate another time. I would much rather you wear that dress.” His smolder left a warm tingling in the lower half of my stomach. He reached out to hold my hand and the tingling burst into flames. Desperately hoping he couldn’t hear my pulse, I took slow, deep breaths. We were two minutes into this date. I didn’t want to give him any reason to go back to avoiding me.

  “Right. Another time,” I said lightly. Another date with Ull. I had to start the deep breathing all over again. Two and a half minutes into this and I was two for two on hyperventilation. I’d have to start pacing myself. After all, I still wasn’t completely convinced that Nice Ull was the real thing. And there was no point in going all ga-ga over someone who might not even exist.

  Ull drove toward the center of town, at ease in the driver’s seat. I tried to focus on his words as he pointed out Cardiff’s considerable highlights, but quickly got lost in the commanding tenor of his voice. I forced myself to really look at the sights, and by the time Ull pulled up in front of Cardiff Castle, I was finally able to hear him. He didn’t move to get out of the car, so I re-crossed my ankles and stared at the ancient fortress from the passenger’s seat.

  “Cardiff has the highest concentration of castles in the world. This one dates back two thousand years, though of course, it has undergone many revisions. You just missed the Medieval Mêlée. People dress in costumes; they hold sword-fighting contests on the green, serve turkey legs, and play silly games. I went as a jester this year.”

  I tried to picture Ull Myhr dressed as a clown, but came up short.

  “It is nice to walk the castle wall,” he went on. “You can see the niches in the stone where guards used to keep their fires on cold nights. We can do that another time – too late today. The castle closes at six.” As fascinating as the wall sounded, the only thing I took from this was that Ull wanted to go out again. Score one, Tostenson.

  Ull eased into traffic, and his excitement grew as he pointed out Millennium Stadium. His eyes shone as he described some of his favorite matches – he was both a football and rugby regular, and he glanced wistfully at the stadium when he spoke. It was weird to imagine him doing something so ordinary as watching sports. Maybe he did have a normal side.

  Ull glanced at the clock and drove purposefully toward our next destination. The sun was low in the sky as he gestured towards the docks that had made Cardiff a major port for coal transport in the 19th Century, and pointed in the direction of the Arcade, a collection of shops varying from couture to cafes. Naturally, Starbucks was well represented here, too.

  My head started to spin from the light pressure of Ull’s hand on mine, so I resumed my deep breathing to keep myself in check. If this kept up, I was going to have to take up yoga. Yogis were good deep breathers, weren’t they?

  Finally, Ull turned off the main road and parked in a small lot. Without a word, he got out of the car and retrieved something from the trunk. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to get out too – were we going for a walk or was he just checking on something back there? But it felt weird to ask, so after a minute, I unbuckled my seatbelt and swung open my door. It reverberated as it hit an obstruction.

  “Ouch!” Ull dropped whatever he was carrying and grabbed his arm.

  “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t realize you were there!” Oh my God. I’d nailed him with my door. And from the way he was rubbing his arm, I’d nailed him really hard. This was beyond mortifying.

  “It seems I did not open your door fast enough,” Ull joked as he stooped to pick up the blanket and basket I’d knocked out of his arms.

  “My door? Oh.” He’d wanted to open my car door. Like in a movie. How had I made it eighteen years and not realized guys actually did that? “Oh Ull.” I grabbed his red forearm. “I really got you.”

  “All in the line of duty.” He took my hand. “This way, my lady.”

  We stopped at the top of the small knoll. The garden easily stretched the length of two football fields, pink, yellow, and purple flowers layering the ground with their thick carpet. Trees swathed in fuchsia petals swayed softly, and a lush covering of grass wove in and out of the flowers. In the distance, a white-columned memorial evoked images of Ancient Greece. It was spectacular.

  “Where are we?”

  “Alexandra Gardens. Named for Alexandra of Denmark, who became the longest running Welsh Princess.” Ull glanced at me from under thick lashes. “This is one of my favorite places in Cardiff.”

  Ull led me down the knoll and laid the blanket on a grassy spot beneath one of the fuchsia trees. He opened the picnic basket and I wanted to ask him a million questions. He beat me to it as he handed me a bottle of sparkling water.

  “Are you enjoying the city so far?” He opened an assortment of tapas for my perusal and helped himself to an olive before leaning back on one elbow.

  “Yes.” I looked down to give myself time to think of something to say. His beautiful form stretched across the blanket had emptied my mind of all coherent thought. He was overwhelming, in the best possible way – tall, blond, muscular, attentive. The combination made it difficult to form words. “Cardiff is so much cleaner than I’d imagined.” Cleaner? I struggled to recover. “I mean, London was beautiful too, but everything was so grey – grime on the buildings, you know? That was neat, and all, because it was London. But everything here is… uh… white.” I gestured to the memorial, pristine in its place of honor. “Even the sidewalks seem white. I guess I just expected everything to be dirty because it’s so big, but Cardiff’s even cleaner than Nehalem was – and with only three hundred people, it doesn’t get very dirty. Well, it gets dirty because it’s in the forest. You know, with dirt. And stuff. But not because of litter or anything.”

  Oh my God. That was all out loud. All of it. I shoved a slice of bread in my mouth to end my prattling.

  It was a testament to Ull’s chivalry that he moved on without comment. “Tell me about Nehalem. What do you miss the most?” He leaned forward on his elbow, seemingly wanting to know.

  “Oh gosh.” I wasn’t sure where to begin. When I was positive I wasn’t going to start in on another babble, I told him about my own favorite place. “Well, there’s this quiet spot off the main river. If you didn’t know it was there, you might never find it. My best friend Ardis and I spent a lot of time there and after she left for college in New York, I used to go by myself to read. Being there made it seem like she wasn’t so far away.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “What about them?” I countered before I could catch myself.

  Ull had enough sense to keep quiet.

  “My grandmother raised me – Mormor was my mom’s mom. My parents traveled a lot for their antique business. They were always on the lookout for new treasures for the shop.” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “They didn’t want a kid around to slow them down. So they passed me off to Mormor – she knew me way better than they ever did anyway. She taught me to tie my shoes, to bake cookies, to write thank you notes. Everything I know.” I stared at my folded hands. “She’s gone now; she passed away right after I started college.”

  “You miss her.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Terribly.”

  Ull offered me a container with turkey, cheese, and crackers. As I made my little sandwich, he kept up his stream of questions.

  “What are your favorite books?”

  “Um…” I chewed, appreciating the change of subject. “I like Shakespeare.”

  “Romeo and Juliet?” Ull chuckled.

  “Much Ado About Nothing.” I blushed. “I always saw myself as an un-bitter Beatrice.”

  “How so?”

  “She’s so disillusioned with love, and doesn’t think she can count on anyone – that part’s not me at all. But she’s really independent, and she’s always looking out for her impetuous cousin. It’s sort of like Ardis and me. She’d always get herself into these situations because of her heart, and I would come along and clean up after her.”

  “Sounds tough
.”

  “Not really. Ardis got into the scrapes; I just had to help her out of them.” I’d been busy as a stump-tailed horse in fly time, the way Ardis found trouble. “My part was much easier.”

  “Always a little outside of life, Miss Tostenson?”

  “I guess.” I felt my cheeks grow warm. It was easier to watch Ardis go through heartbreaks than to get hurt myself. But Ull didn’t need to know that.

  “I know the feeling.” Ull’s response was wry. “Favorite movies?” He continued before I could ask what he meant.

  “Um… Much Ado, again. Kenneth Branagh’s pretty fantastic.”

  “Agreed.”

  Ull continued as the sun set. He asked about my favorite foods, the music I listened to, and what I hoped to do after graduation. He listened patiently as I told him my dream of working as a junior curator in a museum, and leaned in as I talked about my favorite works of art. He seemed genuinely interested in the minor details of my life, and I told him a bit about the oddities of a small-town upbringing. Naturally, I omitted talk of my little mental tic – every dog had a few fleas, and mine were bound to show themselves soon enough.

  By the time the sun dipped at the horizon, our picnic was mostly gone, and Ull offered me a container of brownies. He held up his sparkling water and clinked his bottle to mine.

  “Skål,” he said. “Cheers. To new beginnings.” He winked at me with a smile so dazzling, I couldn’t help but stare.

  The way his pale lips curved up, with just a hint of a smirk behind the smile… could they really be as soft as they looked? What would they feel like against my cheek? My mouth? My neck? I shivered involuntarily.

  “Are you cold?”

  I shook my head. “Everything is wonderful. I’m just… I’m a little overwhelmed. You’re –” I stumbled over the words, ducking behind my hair. “You’re kind of great when you’re being nice.”

  “Be careful, Kristia Tostenson.” Ull brushed my hair behind my ear, trailing one finger along the curve of my neck. His touch was soft; the barely-there sensation of a light breeze that sent a chill down my spine. I resumed my deep, calming breaths in earnest. “You could choose much better company than me,” he continued. There was a warning behind his easy smile.

 

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