by Avery Flynn
“Veronica, it’s Jax. Can I come in?”
Letting the blade fall to her side, she unzipped the flap. The blood rushing in her ears dropped to locations south when she saw Jax still wore only his basketball shorts. “Don’t you get cold?”
“What’s wrong, darling, am I making you hot?”
At that moment she wished more than anything she had a door instead of a flap. Zipping up wouldn’t carry the same umph as slamming a door in his face. But dammit, he was right. The pleasant May evening had gotten balmy. The heating and cooling system hardwired into the fabric of her leather pants must be on the fritz.
Yeah. She’d keep telling herself that one.
“I’m kind of busy, Jax, what do you want?”
He held out a small green duffle bag. “A peace offering for messing up your meditation time this evening.”
She took it from him and a frisson danced up her arm as strong as if she’d stuck a fork in an electrical socket. God, she ached to touch him, feel those hard biceps under her fingers and wrap her legs around his hips. Unbidden, she took a step toward him. His Southern Sex God cologne wafted around her, teasing her senses. Another few minutes of this and she’d have him naked and flat on his back.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking right now, but I like it. A lot.”
Jax’s quip snapped her out of the spell. After taking three steps back, she unzipped the bag to reveal a pair of golden sandals accented with silver feathers. “They couldn’t be.”
“Yeah, Hermes’ shoes. Promise me you’ll wear them tomorrow. If we get in a jam, you can fly out of there and back to the beanstalk.”
“This is too much. I can’t. You should wear them.”
“Are you nuts?” He backpedaled out of the tent. “There is no self-respecting North Carolinian man who’d be caught dead in those ugly-ass things. I’d wear a toga and dance a jig first.”
She reached out to stop him from leaving without the shoes, but instead of catching his hand, her fingers snagged the waistband of his shorts. The strong elastic caught her finger between the smooth fabric and his hard abs. Long-denied lust rushed through her like white water rapids. Before she could blink, her panties were wet, her nipples were hard and the part of her brain controlling logical thinking had been whacked by her id.
Jax’s gaze traveled from her hand to her face and back again, burning her with its intensity. He reached down and slid her fingers free from their heavenly prison. His fingers encircled her wrist and he turned her hand palm up. He leaned down and placed a devastating kiss in the center of her hand, implanting dreams of hot, nasty sex on rainy days.
“We’ll talk more tomorrow night, after we come back down. I have something to tell you, something to make amends for.” He lowered her hand to her side, spun on his heel and walked away into the dark night.
Chapter 7
Jax checked his watch. Again. Exactly two and a half minutes had passed since he’d last glanced at the quartz face. The truth bubbled up inside him, threatening to burst out at any moment. No doubt Veronica was going to be a mad as a cat drenched in deep-fat-frying batter, but she deserved to know why he’d called off the wedding. Then they could move forward. Together. No more secrets. No more lies. He couldn’t wait until tonight.
The six pancakes he’d gobbled down this morning at breakfast did a triple flip. Okay, maybe he was a little on edge.
“Why’d you stop? Did you see something?” Veronica asked from a few feet below him on the beanstalk.
Real smooth, dipshit. Get your head in the game before you lose it to a bunch of zombies.
“Nah, we’re almost there.” He gripped a thick vine in his right hand and continued to climb.
The hole from yesterday remained in the cloud cover. He scurried up the last few feet and stopped just shy of the entrance to the zombie playground. With his right hand, he unsnapped the button on his knife sheath. Any delay in pulling out the six-inch blade could make the difference between life and death if he found a living corpse waiting for him on the other side of the clouds.
Time for one last equipment check. While gearing up this morning, he’d had no idea what to bring to a zombie fight, so he’d brought it all. A larger blade remained in a holder tied to his back. Two small knives were snug against his ankles. Throwing stars filled a pocket in his camouflage pants. Another pocket held a flash grenade. Around his neck, he’d fastened a Celtic knot made of Adamantite, the same material Perseus had used to decapitate Medusa. He could kick himself for not wearing it yesterday when its prophetic powers could have warned him of the zombies before they were breathing down his neck.
He was as ready as he’d ever be. Time to roll.
“I’m heading in. Wait for me to give the all clear before coming up.” Jax locked his jaw and hit Veronica with his deadliest glare. “If anything goes wrong, go back down. Do not–I repeat–do not come up after me.”
She rolled her brown eyes at him.
“I mean it, Veronica.”
“I got it. We let the zombies floss their teeth with your bones. No problem.” She waved him on. “Get moving. We’re wasting daylight.”
Grinning at her typical sarcastic remark, Jax poked his head through the hole.
Feeling like a gopher sniffing the wind before scampering out of his dirt home, he pulled himself out of the hole and stood on the cloud ground. Fluffy clouds appeared as far as the eye could see until the castle wall in the far distance broke up the sea of white. He strained, listening for the zombies’ telltale giggle. Nothing but the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.
He forced himself to remain still and scan the perimeter again. Nothing moved among the tree-shaped clouds surrounding the hole or the vastness between the tree line and the castle wall. He took a breath to call out to Veronica and Antoine below, when something flashed across his peripheral vision.
Adrenaline slammed through his system, jacking up his heart rate and squeezing his lungs. His head snapped in the flash’s direction. Only that damned white everywhere. The sixth sense that had saved him from a chupacabra in West Texas buzzed through his body as if he had just put three hundred dollars’ worth of quarters in a vibrating bed. He hadn’t imagined it. Something was out there.
He grasped the knife handle on his hip and inched it out of the sheath. Even though it was a big blade, the troll blacksmith had balanced it perfectly so it had deadly aim. All he needed was a target. Slowing his breathing to a turtle’s pace, he concentrated on his surroundings. A line of bright yellow peeked out from the side of a cloud tree about fifty yards ahead, enough to alert Jax to the zombie’s presence but not enough to strike. Bingo. He could draw the slimy corpse out of his hiding spot by yelling, but if there were more, he might be endangering the others. His need for expediency warred with his protective instincts, but the outcome was never in doubt. He’d die before he let anything happen to Veronica.
So he waited. Lucky for the ulcers bubbling to life in his stomach, it didn’t take long.
The yellow spot started to move east, but nothing else appeared. It looked like a floating piece of sunny fabric. A glare? A solar spot? He’d finally lost his ever-loving mind?
He squinted, focusing on the object and blocking out all other distractions. The truth hit him like an arrow from an elf’s bow. The golden speck wasn’t clothing, it was a bill. Finally, a stroke of good luck.
Jax ducked down beneath the cloud cover. “You’ll never guess what is right outside.”
“Hungry zombies?”
“Very funny, Veronica.” He didn’t even try to stop his grin from spreading, almost nothing matching the zinging excitement of finding a prize on a treasure hunt. “It’s the goose that lays the golden eggs.”
“How do you know it’s the right one? I’m not walking into a situation half-cocked again.” Veronica glanced down at Antoine, who was right below her on the beanstalk. “Ideas?”
A cool breeze whipped Antoine’s white hair around his round head, revealing an angr
y red scar near his hairline. He flattened his lips and his blue eyes took on an arctic quality as he returned Veronica’s query with silence.
Jax’s muscles tensed and his senses went on full alert. The Celtic knot his mother had given him when he left for college warmed against his chest. A Zayl witch, his mother had used a spell Merlin himself had taught her to infuse it with the power to warn him of danger.
The last time the charm had reacted this way without provocation had been right as he was about to dive into a freshwater lagoon teaming with vampiric mermaids hidden just below the surface waiting for their next meal. He’d yanked back from the edge before gravity could draw him into the deep blue. His guide, Sharmel, hadn’t. The mermaids had sucked Sharmel dry before Jax could even pull his Bowie knife from the sheath.
There sure as hell weren’t any mermaids in cloud country, but that didn’t mean there weren’t dangers aplenty with zombies taking the number one, two and three top slots on the list of most likely to kill him.
Below Jax on the beanstalk, Antoine blinked. When he opened his eyes, a look of resignation replaced his icy glare. “I’d love to say I am one hundred percent certain, but as we all learned yesterday, an overabundance of caution is never a bad thing when one climbs a magic beanstalk.”
He could say that twice. Though Jax was packing enough metal to knock a troll on his fat ass, he couldn’t shake the idea he’d missed something important.
“I don’t know. Something’s off here.” He adjusted his grip on the vines. “How is the goose even still alive with all the brain-dead rotting corpses wandering around?”
“Excellent point,” Veronica said.
They both looked to Antoine.
“My understanding of giant history is, the goose was a much-revered animal. It never aged or had to be fed. It simply was. And from it came the golden eggs, which financed the hopes and dreams of an entire race of giants. My theory, given their historical admiration of the goose, and the fact it produces golden eggs–shiny objects, just the type of thing the zombies are drawn to–the zombified giants leave the goose alone and go after the eggs.”
The theory had a kind of twisted logic to it, but it started Jax onto a whole new path of inquiry. “If the zombies don’t eat the goose and there aren’t any people up here, what are the zombies noshing on?”
“That is a question I cannot answer.”
“Guys, this is a fascinating conversation,” Veronica interrupted, impatience as thick as Caro syrup in her voice. “But we have a goose to catch. Let’s focus on the job at hand and get the hell out of here.”
“Point taken, Veronica. Point taken.” Antoine nodded. “Lead the way, Jax. We have a goose to catch.”
Jax poked his head out the hole in the clouds and checked the scene for anything moving that didn’t have a heartbeat. Everything looked clear, so he pulled himself the rest of the way out then helped Veronica. The moment their fingers intertwined and he got a whiff of her vanilla perfume, his body went on a whole other kind of alert. His position standing above her gave him the perfect view of her delectable breasts, framed by her leather jumpsuit’s lowered zipper. At that point, whatever blood was left in his brain took the bullet train south.
Once she stood next to him, he knew it was time to let go of her hand, but damn if his fingers didn’t have other plans, the kind that involved dragging that zipper as far down as it would go.
“Don’t drool on my boobs. It’s not polite.” By the soft velvet caress of her voice and the frantic rise and fall of her chest, despite her words, she wasn’t unaffected by him either.
Antoine tumbled forward from the beanstalk, landing in a heap at their feet. “Don’t worry, even though I’m an old man, I’m sure I can manage.”
The moment’s allure broken, Jax and Veronica unwound their fingers and stepped apart. His fingers still tingling, Jax held out a hand to Antoine and helped him up.
“Thanks, my boy. Now where is our fat little waddling friend?”
The cotton-candy scented trees stood about sky high with trunks so big around it would take at least three men holding hands to encircle one. The bark looked just like it did in his native North Carolina, that is if someone had taken the time to whitewash it. He stroked down the length with a finger, expecting the cloud to fly away under his fingertip. Instead, it remained as hard and unyielding as the Carolina red maple shading his mama’s back porch.
How in the world–
The hairs on the back of his neck spiked. He yanked his Bowie knife out and spun around in a smooth, fluid motion ready to attack but all he saw was blue skies and cloud trees.
“Honk!” came from a few feet below him.
The goose had to weigh close to thirty pounds. It had milky white feathers and a bright yellow bill with small dark patches on the side, making it appear as if it were smiling. It attacked Jax’s frayed jeans cuff, its hard bill whacking against his ankle bone.
Jax jumped away from the snarly bird, but that only seemed to aggravate it. The bird spread its wings and used its impressive six-foot wingspan to take several whacks at Jax’s thigh. Covering the family jewels, he tried to ward off the goose’s blows.
Of course, a goose worshiped by a horde of zombies would act like a bird possessed and have a right hook that hurt worse than ramming into the coffee table at full speed.
“That’s it. You better watch out or I’ll decide to have you for Christmas dinner.”
The goose eyed him with her shifty little black eyes and honked before trying to steamroll Jax back. This time, he stood his ground, crouched at the last second and wrapped his arms around the fat bird, pinning its wings to its body. In addition to golden eggs, the goose had plenty of fight in it as well. It honked in protest, pecked him with its bill and tried to squirm free but to no avail. Jax had it and he sure as shooting wasn’t letting it wiggle away now.
“Here, let me help.” Veronica sidled close, keeping eye contact with the pissed-off beast. “Hey there, big darling, did Jax here tick you off? I know just what that’s like. Shhh, calm down now.”
Miraculously, the goose quieted.
“Now I’m going to touch your head,” she continued in a soft, sing-song rhythm. “There we go. Now, let’s just tuck that pretty beak of yours under one of your wings and I’ll make Jax promise to be nice to you.”
The goose relaxed in his arms and settled in.
“Promise her, Jax.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not talking to a stupid goose.”
The bird in question began to flail about again.
“Promise. Her.”
“Of all the–” The do-it-now look in her eyes stopped him cold. “Fine. I promise to be nice to Ms. Christmas Goose.”
The stubborn bird honked at him from underneath its downy wing.
“Now what?” Jax asked.
“Oh, you’ll have to carry her down, my boy,” Antoine replied.
The old man had to have lost it. How in the world was he supposed to climb down who knows how many miles of beanstalk with a wiggly goose in his arms?
“It’s a good thing I brought my elevator ring.” Antoine pulled the silver ring off his pinky finger. “If you’ll both just come over here.”
He pushed a button the size of a jalapeno seed on the ring’s side and aimed the resulting beam of blue light at the vine. A holographic elevator hovered over the opening in the cloud ground.
“Well, come on, we shouldn’t dally.” Antoine strode into the mystical elevator.
“You had this all along and yet we still climbed all the way up? Twice?” Veronica marched into the elevator behind Jax and the doors slid shut.
“Unfortunately, it only goes down and I was so distracted by the zombies yesterday, I completely forgot about using it.” Antoine pushed the G button and they floated downward.
It took only a few minutes to reach the ground by their tents inside the stone circle. However, the doors didn’t open and the magic kept them inside the holographic walls.
“Oh bother. Jax, can you hit the open door button?” Antoine turned to Veronica. “There’s always something that goes wrong with these Bavarian relics.”
Juggling the goose, Jax awkwardly punched the button. Just as the doors opened, the goose went into wild animal mode, thrashing in his arms until it managed to break free. It sprinted out of the elevator, madly flapping its wings, and disappeared into the woods.
Chapter 8
Veronica leapt for the goose and ended up with an armful of air and a mouthful of grass and dirt for her efforts. Jax might have the right of it. That bird just might be the tastiest Christmas dinner ever.
An hour later, she and Jax were still tracking the webbed-footed miscreant through the woods. Antoine had stayed at camp in case the goose waddled its way back there. It hadn’t. Instead, the goose had stayed within eyeshot but just out of arm’s reach in the woods, its tail feathers wagging back and forth.
“I think she’s mocking us,” Veronica complained.
“That’s giving her too much credit. It’s just a goose,” Jax replied. “Look! It keeps picking up a twig, tossing it in the air and then grabbing it up off the ground again. It’s like the crazy thing wants to play fetch.”
“That’s it!”
Figuring it wasn’t the craziest thing she’d seen over the past few days, Veronica scooped up a small stick from the moss-covered ground and flung it toward the goose. The bird took off after it in a flash of white and returned a moment later, dropping the stick near her feet. It wagged its tail feathers and stared at her expectantly. When she didn’t do anything, the goose nudged the stick with its bill until it was pressed against her boot.
“You have got to be kidding me. It’s a goose that thinks it’s a yellow lab.” Jax let out a belly laugh.
“Oh no, it’s too smart for a lab. Maybe an Australian Shepherd.” She reached down and stroked its soft feathers. “Aren’t you a smart girl?”
The goose honked happily.
Jax swiped a stick and dangled it in front of the goose before sending it sailing in the other direction. The goose gave chase, returned and dropped it at his feet.
