by Annie Dean
Now that she was relatively alone—a homeless man sitting on the front stoop of a brownstone saluted her with his brown paper bag as she passed—and could actually hear herself think, she replayed the night's events in her mind. Could she really have caused the boat to appear in the middle of the bar like that? She'd refused to consider it at first, but even she had to admit that the timing was uncanny. One moment she was wishing the nerds would shut the hell up about the Bermuda Triangle already and order more drinks and the next a twenty-foot schooner appeared exactly where the nerds had been sitting.
No, she couldn't have done it. No way. Not her. Not Kitty Jones. It had to be alien forces or the wrath of God or some cosmic hiccup. No way it was her. Not Kitty Jones.
She just wasn't the kind of woman to whom magical things happened. She had reached the ripe old age of twenty-five without anything remarkable or remotely special happening to her. She grew up in the suburbs outside of Chicago with a dentist for a father and a schoolteacher for a mother. Or was it the other way around? Was it her mother who was the dentist and her father—She paused in the middle of the sidewalk and clutched her head between her hands. Jesus, why did it feel like her brain was about to explode?
Just last week, she visited her doctor to tell her about the skull-crushing headaches and the lapses in her memory. Instead of sending her to the hospital for a CT scan, the doctor told her she had nothing to worry about and wrote her a prescription for migraine and sleep-aid medicine. She saw another doctor for a second opinion, but after a battery of tests, he wasn't able to find anything, either. That afternoon, Kitty found herself wandering around in Sheffield Park without knowing when or how she got there.
When Kitty attempted to call her mother, she realized she couldn't remember her number. Confused, she called Information and found she couldn't remember her mother's name, either. Kitty stood in her living room, staring at the phone in her hand in abject horror until the computerized operator told her to please hang up and try her call again.
A car full of teenage boys whizzed past her, honking and yelling suggestive comments. Kitty shoved her hands into her hair, wrecking the bun that had been keeping her mane in place. God, she was losing it. Keep it together, Kitty. You do not want to be outfitted in a straitjacket and locked in a rubber room for the rest of your natural life.
When she raised her head, a large, old black man at the mouth of a dark alley was gesturing at her, beckoning her to come to him. He had a black knitted beanie on his head and was wearing a navy-blue peacoat that looked comfortable and warm. Covering his hands were burgundy gloves which he was holding over a red drum that contained a roaring fire. The flames danced beneath his hands as though he were a maestro directing their movements.
Kitty hesitated only for a moment and walked up to him, telling herself she was just going to warm her hands for a little bit before continuing her walk home. As soon as she was close enough to get a good look at him, she realized he was a lot younger than she originally thought. His harsh face, which appeared to be carved out of granite, was smooth and unlined, yet his eyebrows, beard, and the hair peeking out from under his beanie were shockingly white. His eyes, which sparkled like black diamonds, were fully dilated and stared at her as though he could see right through the marrow of her bones. And he was huge; at least six-six and maybe three hundred pounds of big bulky muscle. His arms were easily as thick as her thighs. The amber glow of the fire only served to make him look more sinister, more imposing.
Kitty shivered and it wasn't because of the cold. Gingerly, she held her hands over the fire and as quick as a rattlesnake, his hand had seized her wrist in a grip that was tight enough to let her know of his strength, but not enough to hurt. “Hey, let me go.”
“You should not be walking around alone on a night like this, young miss,” he said in a rumbling bass that held a foreign accent Kitty couldn't quite place. “You should be at home, safe and sound in your bed.”
Kitty laughed nervously and tried to pull her wrist away. It didn't budge. “That's my plan. If you would just let me go, sir, I'd be on my way.”
The man's black eyes glittered in the darkness. He tilted his head to the side as though he were studying her. “I mean your true home, young miss. Not the hovel you've been living in these past few months.”
“You mean Evanston? I don't think my parents would be very receptive to their fully-grown daughter asking them if she could move back in.” She tested the grip around her wrist again. The man's fingers were like steel manacles. “No, I'm fine where I am. Just let me go, please. I'm cold and hungry and tired and I really want to go home.”
“I'm not arguing with that, young miss.” The accent was crisp and cultivated with a trace of New England, maybe even British. “You really must go home.”
Kitty frowned at the man. “Exactly. Home. Where the heart is. If you let me go, I'd be on my merry way.” Oddly enough, she was more annoyed than afraid now. She'd had a long, strange night and wanted nothing more than to sink into her couch in front of the TV with a glass of Merlot. She had no patience for Cryptic Message Guy who, for a homeless man, was better dressed than she was. “Mister, my throat hurts like hell and I don't really feel like yelling right now. Please don't make me scream. There's a shitload of police cars just a couple of blocks from here and I have no doubt they would be able to hear me.”
“And you seem to have trouble comprehending me. Perhaps your extended stay on this world has dulled your wits.” He tightened his hold on her wrist for a moment and leaned over the drum so his face was only inches from hers. “You need to go home. Home, young miss.” He spoke gently and slowly as though speaking to a child. He also seemed to expect she knew what the hell he was talking about.
His breath smelled like evergreen trees and dirt. Kitty frowned. “Right. And where do you think home is?” Even though the man was obviously nuts, she couldn't help but hold her breath in anticipation of the man's answer. Which didn't make sense because the man was nuts. Loco in the cabeza.
A quick flash of blindingly white teeth was his interpretation of a smile. Without another word, he raised a fist and pointed his index finger toward the inky black sky.
The laughter that burst out of Kitty's mouth was more of an expression of relief than anything. “It's the hair, right? People think I'm an alien and shit because of the hair.” Instead of looking offended at Kitty laughing at him, the man shrugged and smiled. “Which planet do you think I'm from? Venus or something?”
“I didn't say you were an alien to this planet, young miss. You are, however, an alien to this world. There is a difference.” He released her so abruptly that Kitty staggered and almost fell on her ass. “And now you need to go home.”
“Right. That's what I'm going to do.” Kitty backed away slowly from the fire, keeping her gaze on the dark stranger. When he didn't move from the spot where he stood, Kitty opened her bag and rummaged for the stack of dollar bills that Jan had told her was her tips for the night. “Listen, it's too cold for you to be standing out here. You should get yourself a cup of coffee and a slice of pie in a diner somewhere. On me.” She pulled out a few bills and looked up.
Naturally, he was gone.
Kitty sighed, hugged her bare arms to herself, and continued her trek back to her apartment.
* * * *
When she woke up the next morning, a giant lizard thing was sitting at the foot of her bed with its arms folded across its impossibly wide chest and its green serpentine eyes watching her. It was covered in red and gold scales, sported a snout that reminded her of an alligator, and was looking at her like it wanted to swallow her whole. Though it wore a cloth of some kind around its middle and Kitty couldn't see if it had genitals, she decided it was a male. There was something about it that just screamed male.
Kitty did what any sane person would have done in her situation: she shrieked and ducked under her covers, squeezing her eyes shut. For good measure, she tucked the edge of the blanket under her head and clap
ped her hands over her ears. This is not happening. I'm dreaming. This isn't real.
“You're acting like a child, Kiyo,” growled the creature from the foot of her bed. “Will you get out from under there and talk to me like a grown woman?”
Though Kitty had her ears covered, she could hear him clearly as though he was speaking right into her ear. No, not in her ear, in her head. He was speaking to her inside her head. She whimpered and held on to the blanket tighter just in case he decided to yank it off her.
“Kiyo, I'm not going to hurt you. Come on out of there, please.” The unnaturally deep growl was replaced by a silky-smooth bass that seemed to caress her skin like a touch of velvet. “Let's not play this game, darling. Come on out.”
“This is a dream, this is a dream, this is a dream,” she muttered to herself. “Wake up, Kitty … wake up!” She took a chunk of the flesh on her arm between two fingers and squeezed hard. She yelped with pain.
“You are not dreaming, Kiyo. This is all real. Come out and talk to me, please.”
“Stop calling me that! My name is not Kiyo! You've got the wrong person.” The spot on the bed next to her sank with his weight, which told her he was now lying next to her. Her suspicion was proven correctly when a strong, hard force wrapped itself around her torso and yanked her until her back was leaning against something hard and very, very male. And warm … dear God, he was warm.
“Your real name is Kiyo, beloved.” He tightened his arm and nuzzled the back of her neck through the blanket. “Now come on out of there and talk to me.”
Kitty found herself involuntarily pressing her backside against him. He was so warm … felt so good … and she could feel his hand reaching over to her front to cup her breasts. When she realized what she was doing, she scrambled out of bed with the blanket wrapped tightly around her.
From the floor of her bedroom, she grabbed a strappy sandal with a four-inch stiletto heel, held it over her head like a weapon, and turned around to face the creature on her bed. In place of the giant lizard thing was the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her entire life. High cheekbones. Chin that could crush walnuts. Silky blond hair that shone in the sunlight. The same green eyes now sparkled with intent to possess her. He was lying on his side with his head propped up by his fist, a flirtatious smile on his ridiculously handsome face. And his body … dear God, so lean and muscular and hairless all over. He was just so big … and golden. Kitty raked her gaze over him and gulped. His cock was hard, thick, pinkish in color, and went past his belly button. It was the biggest penis she had ever seen.
“Come here, Kiyo.” He patted a spot on the bed next to him. “Lay down next to me. It's been too long. Let me make love to you.”
Kitty shook her head, backing away from the bed until she smacked into the wall behind her. Suddenly, she became very aware of her own nudity under the blanket and hugged it tighter around her body. Why oh why didn't she at least leave on a tank top before crashing last night? But that was the least of her worries. What scared her more than waking up naked next to stranger was how much she wanted to jump the stranger's bones. Never mind that he appeared out of nowhere and was a lizard-man thing just a few moments ago.
“Don't you miss my touch, beloved? I certainly missed yours … especially the little sounds you made in my ear as I made you come over and over again.” He wiggled his long, slender fingers suggestively at her. “Don't you want me to touch you again?”
Kitty gripped the blanket in her fist. “I don't know what you're talking about. I've never seen you before in my life.”
“Your entire life as a human, perhaps.” His lips quirked up in a smile. “But you've known me forever. You belong to me.” One long finger drew lazy circles on the bed next to his body while his eyes surveyed her appreciatively from head to toe. “Come here, Kiyo.”
Kiyo. Kitty froze. Why did the name sound so familiar? She buried a hand in her hair as she racked her useless memory. Where had she seen it before? She pressed her back tighter against the wall. Kiyo. She knew the name. She had seen it before. But the more she thought about it, the more her head hurt.
“Perhaps you are not pleased with this form?” he asked softly. “How about this?”
Kitty raised her head in time to see him transform. The golden blond god was now a long, lean, chocolate-skinned man with whiskey-colored eyes and curly black hair. The smirk and the attitude remained however. Kitty took a deep breath and released it in a long, shaky exhale.
“No?” A pink tongue flickered to lick the corner of his beautiful mouth. “How about this, then?”
An olive-skinned man appeared on the bed with long, silky ebony hair and dark, fathomless eyes that had an exotic slant to them. He reminded Kitty of a jaguar: slender, lean, and oozing with deadly grace. He kneeled on the bed before her and stroked a hand down his body, brushing his muscled stomach with his fingers, before capturing his erect penis in his fist and giving it a pump.
“Um.” Before she realized what she was doing, she was standing next to the bed and within the creature's reach. Her hand, as though it had a mind of its own, lifted away from her body and caressed his chest. Lord, his skin felt like silk. His eyes drifted closed and he moaned in pleasure. Her fingers felt the vibration from deep within him. She yanked her hand back and cradled it against her breasts. “No. I don't know what you are or what the hell you're doing here, but you have to leave, please.”
His eyes snapped open and this time, they were the same shade of violet as hers. “Well, I'm here to take you home, beloved. As for what I am, you know the answer to that … you just forgot.” His lips curled into half a smile. “You like this form, don't you? And yet you won't allow yourself pleasure.”
“Yes, yes, it's a very nice form … but I don't want you here. Will you please just leave?” Kitty could hear the desperate pleading in her voice and hated it.
“Do you really want me to leave? I think not. Even now I can smell your arousal, your feminine essence.” He captured a lock of her pink hair and used it to tug her closer. “It's been too long since we were together, my love. I've missed kissing you, touching you…” He captured her neck in one hand and caressed her jugular with his thumb. “If you won't allow me to make love to you in this form, perhaps you prefer … this one?”
Kitty gasped as he transformed himself to the reporter from last night. Jack. It was the same exact face she had admired, from the ragged scar on his forehead to the bump on the bridge of a nose that must have been broken at least once in the past. The high cheekbones, the square jaw, the cleft on his chin … down to the two-day-old beard. Kitty swallowed hard as she hungrily drank in the sight of him with her eyes. He was lean, almost painfully so, without an ounce of fat on him. All muscle and grit.
She could feel her face heating up, her nipples hardening into points. She felt light-headed and breathless. She didn't know how much longer she could resist.
“Is this the reason why you haven't come home? You've fallen in love with a mortal?” he whispered against the skin of her throat.
“I'm not in love with him. I just met him last night,” she breathed as he captured her earlobe between his teeth and gently bit down.
“I watched you as you slept, Kiyo. I saw your lips form his name.” He cupped her face between his large hands and brushed the tip of his tongue over her lower lip. “You may not be in love with him, but you certainly want him very badly.” His free arm snaked around her waist and he dragged her back to the bed.
Kitty gasped as she landed on her back on the mattress. “Stop. I don't want this.”
“Don't lie to me, my little dragon. You want this very much.” He dropped his body next to hers and placed his palm on the inside of her bare thigh, sweeping up toward her crotch with agonizing slowness. He stopped just inches from the juncture of her thighs and squeezed gently. “Tell me you want me, Kiyo.”
“Not you. I don't want you,” she said through gritted teeth even as her traitorous body shivered underneath his to
uch.
“Lying again.” He lowered his head and licked her nipple before sucking it into his mouth and biting gently. He did the same for the other one as the hand on her thigh continued its ascent. Raising his head, he grinned wickedly at her and pressed his palm firmly against her. “You are so wet, beloved, and so ready for me.”
“Get off me.” But she couldn't help the moan that escaped her mouth when he reached the moist heat between her thighs. “I don't want you, you … demon!”
He chuckled and flicked his thumb over her bud. “No, beloved, not a demon. Far from it. But I can be, if you want. Unless you prefer an angel … your choice.”
You're stronger than this, Kitty. You can resist him. With a deep breath, she reached down and wrapped her fingers around his wrist so she could pull his hand away from her crotch. Even as her body wept in protest, she managed to push him off her body and grab her robe from the foot of her bed. He quickly placed his hand on her shoulder to stop her, but she ducked before he could get a firmer hold and jumped off the bed, slipping on her robe and belting it tightly.
“Stay away from me,” she said shakily. “I don't want you to touch me. I don't even want to hear you anymore. Just get the hell out of here or I swear to God, I'll call the police.”
“Ah, if you were going to call them, you would have called them when I first popped up. Besides, you're still not totally convinced that you aren't dreaming all of this.” He unfolded himself from the bed and stalked toward her in long, graceful strides. “And what would you tell them, pray tell? Help, Mr. Police Officer, there's a dragon in my bedroom? No, that would be crazy.”
Kitty swallowed hard, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. Was she going crazy, after all? Maybe there were one or two crazy aunts in the family tree and the insanity was passed down to her. She read somewhere that paranoid schizophrenia didn't manifest in some people until later in life. “Did … did you just say you're a dragon?”
