by Jes Young
“No George, you can’t. Promise me you won’t tell Francis what happened today,” I stuttered out. “They have enough to worry about. Please let’s just wait until everyone comes home.”
I didn’t realize I’d started crying until he handed me a tissue. “Please don’t cry. We’ll figure it out. Try to calm down. Do you want more tea?”
I tried everything; looking up at the ceiling, biting my lip, pressing my fingers into the corners of my eyes—nothing worked. Tears, brought on by worry and fear and three different kinds of frustration, poured out of my eyes.
An hour later George was bent over the kitchen table; scribbling furiously into a notebook he’d taken from Pop’s desk, a pair of reading glasses perched low on his nose. It wasn’t easy, but I’d somehow convinced him that we could handle the situation ourselves. There were conditions, of course but aren’t there always? The first one was that I would give up my job at the bank. If that’s where the threat was waiting for me, it was easy enough to avoid it simply by staying home. The second was that I would stay inside the Manor. Also fine with me, it was too cold to linger outside anyway. The third, the hardest to accept, was that if somehow one of They got into the house – which George repeatedly assured me was unlikely – I would run up to the attic and lock the door.
“But that doesn’t make sense,” I said.
George stopped writing and peered at me over the top of his glasses. I am relatively sure he was wearing them because he thought they looked cute – which they did – rather than because he actually needed them to see.
“It makes perfect sense,” he said, exasperated.
“Remember that movie we watched the other night? And that girl with the huge boobs, what’s her name, was being chased around the house by that guy with the knife. Remember she ran right passed the front door and went upstairs to hide? What did we both say?”
“This isn’t the same.”
“We both said, ‘run outside stupid.’ Remember? Because if a knife wielding maniac is chasing you inside the house, the best place to go is...that’s right, outside. The attic is a death trap.”
He sighed. He pushed the glasses up onto the top of his head. “If a knife wielding maniac comes into the house and tries to kill you, by all means run outside, get in your car, and drive away. But please believe me, if one of They gets into the house you are better off running upstairs and if you don’t want me to get Francis and Robbin back here right now, you’d better agree to do just that.”
“Fine, fine. I’m just saying.”
He went back to writing, including a knife wielding maniac clause into section three of the agreed upon terms. When he was finished we both signed it and he posted it on the fridge with a Bennett Falls Bank magnet to hold it in place.
I wish I could say that it felt like overkill, that I was chafing under the thought of a new restrictions but it didn’t. Frankly, I was terrified. They of the Dark didn’t just plan to kill me, which was scary enough, they raised their children on songs about the day they finally would. I couldn’t help but picture a classroom full of pale children sitting in a circle, singing the rhyme together, wishing me dead. That image alone made me all too happy to follow the rules.
He insisted on layering the Manor with extra protective enchantments in addition to the ones that were already in place. I followed him around the house while he worked, watching carefully as he whispered the words that made the magic that kept the bad guys out.
At first, I thought there would be more to see, maybe some flashing lights or shooting stars or something. But it turns out laying an enchantment is much quieter than that, a lot less showy. It’s something you feel, not something you see. It’s like the moment before the rollercoaster drops over the edge of the first steep hill – when the ride is all tension and suspense – and then, just as the magic sets, there’s the rush, the release, as the cart drops over the edge. When he was through I clapped and he took a bow. He looked pretty satisfied with himself.
“You know what we’re doing next, don’t you?” George asked.
“Calling Trudy?”
“Give that girl a prize.”
When Trudy picked up the phone, I told her I would need to take some time off. She was characteristically nice about it; she didn’t ask why I had or how long I’d be out even though “some” is a very nonspecific amount of time. It might have meant three days, it might have meant three months. Since I didn’t know how long the lockdown would last, there was really no way I could tell her anything more.
“Now I’m really starting to worry.” I could picture sitting at her desk, twisting the phone cord around her fingers the way she did when she was worried or stressed. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Not really. I think I just need to rest. I’ll be back soon.”
She was quiet for a minute and although I couldn’t read her thoughts, I knew she was deciding what else to say. “I wish you’d tell me what’s really going on. I’m worried about you – as your friend, not as your boss.”
She gave me a chance to answer, a long, quiet moment where I could have told her everything. I wanted to. I knew I’d feel better as soon as I did. But I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. I said “um” a bunch of times but that was about it. I just couldn’t figure out where to begin.
“It’s all right honey. I hope you know I’m here if you need me,” she said when it became clear I wasn’t going to say anything. “Get better and come back when you can. I’ll bet Allison won’t mind picking up a few extra shifts until you do. I don’t have to tell you that there’s always a place for you here.”
“Thanks. It means a lot to me.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No. Thanks. George is taking care of me...and I’m fine. I will be fine.”
She wished me a speedy recovery and told me again that I should call her if there was anything she could do.
“I’m such a liar,” I said as I flipped my phone closed.
George laughed, “Such a bad liar. You might as well have told her. She’ll probably guess anyway.”
Personally, I found it extremely unlikely that she would.
Chapter Fourteen
George and I were both on edge. I had a lot on my mind and I knew from the flashes I got direct from George’s head that he was equally preoccupied by his own thoughts, which were mostly the bleak, worried kind.
“Stop reading my mind,” George said.
I pointed to the magazine in my lap. “I’m not. I’m reading.”
He looked me accusingly. “Then why haven’t you turned the page in the last fifteen minutes?”
I turned the page, ripping it a little in my haste. “There. Happy now?”
He threw himself back down on the sofa, muttering something under his breath as he whipped through the channels.
“It doesn’t work like that anyway. I can’t just flip into your thoughts and start looking around whenever I want. Things just come to me. I don’t go looking for them.” As I spoke he turned the television’s volume way up. “Like I want to read your stupid mind anyway,” I yelled in conclusion.
He said “I’m going to take a nap,” but he was thinking maybe if I pretend to sleep she’ll leave me alone.
“You want me to leave you alone? Fine. I’ll leave you alone.” I threw the magazine at him and stormed out of the sitting room. “Now you’re alone.”
“I told you to stop reading my mind,” he yelled after me. “And don’t you dare go outside.”
Without meaning to, George had uncovered the reason I didn’t tell my family and my small but devoted team of fiancés about the whole minding reading thing the minute it started happening. I didn’t want everyone I knew to feel uncomfortable and worried around me, always on their guard, always wondering what private things I might be pulling from their brains. Everyone has their secrets, you know? And everyone wants to keep it that way.
I went to Alex’s room, moving restlessly from bed to chair to desk b
efore I decided to take a shower, hoping it would help me relax a little. And it did; some of the tension slipped away along with the suds. I was rinsing the shampoo out of my hair and wondering what I would make for dinner when I heard the bathroom door open.
For just a second I felt terrible for George. He was going to find me that way, naked and dead in the shower – and after bickering with me too. It would be awful. Francis would never forgive him.
“George?” I called tentatively.
“No, it’s me.” My pulse sped at the sound of Alex’s voice, the enchantment buzzing to life. “I’ve come home to you.”
I took a deep breath and I peeked out from behind the shower curtain.
“Hi.”
“Shall I join you? I could wash your back.” He smiled, his deep blue eyes full of fire but whether it was from lust or the fever he obviously had, I really can’t say.
“Yeah, I seriously doubt that. You look awful.” Aside from two scarlet stripes flushing his cheeks, his face was pale. His skin looked clammy. “Go sit down, I’ll be right out.”
Without opening the curtain, I reached out and grabbed my towel. I squeezed the water out of my hair and stepped out in the steamy bathroom. He was still standing there. Only he looked a little weaker.
“I can’t carry you to the bed. If you fall I’m going to leave you there until morning.”
He ignored me. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as beautiful as you.”
I snorted. “I think you might be delirious.”
He swayed on his feet as I pushed him gently towards the bed. “I’m completely lucid. And you are beautiful but stubborn. Just say thank you. Didn’t Bennett teach you how to take a compliment?” He stumbled a few times on the way over but we made it to the bed in one piece. He dropped down onto the mattress with a thud.
“I can’t believe they sent you here like this,” I mumbled as I pulled on some panties and a t-shirt.
“The healer said I was fine to travel but I think I may have pulled something during transport.”
He didn’t seem fine to me. I felt his forehead; he was burning up. The heavy wool sweater and jeans he was wearing weren’t doing him any favors. I had to get him out of his clothes.
“Listen to me. We have to get you undressed. Are you listening? Your fever is very high and I think being all bundled up is making it worse. Can you help me? Just lift up your arms,” I said.
He stared at me blankly for a minute and then he laughed. “Are you going to undress me?”
“Arms up.” I was determined to keep it businesslike. To ignore that I was, in fact, undressing him. It wasn’t easy to ignore. I felt tingly the moment I touched him. I didn’t know how I would feel once he was naked. Imaging made me blush.
“Lift your arms,” I said impatiently. He lifted them in the air and I pulled the gray sweater and the t-shirt he had on under it up over his head. I pulled his socks and shoes off too, throwing them behind me.
“I’ve thought about you undressing me a lot and this is not what I pictured when I thought about you undressing me.” His words slurred together and he leaned back a little, bracing himself against the mattress.
“Join the club,” I muttered as I tried not to think about him thinking about me undressing him.
Seeing him, even in that state, after a long break, made the enchantment more intense. It felt like the first day I met him, the desire to touch him, to be touched by him was that sharp. Sadly—or maybe luckily—he was three percent weaker than a kitten.
“I’ll be right back,” I told him as I went to the bathroom in search of aspirin for his fever and something I could use to clean the wound on his side. It looked like the bandage would need to be replaced too.
“I thought I’d be able to return the favor, at the very least,” he called from the bed. “But I can’t even unbutton my own pants, let alone yours.”
“Don’t talk,” I said, kneeling down at the edge of the bed. I handed him two aspirin and a glass of water that he drank gratefully. “I have to change your bandage. I’m sorry if it hurts.”
I removed it as gently as I could but we both winced when it came off. The partially healed wound on his side was long and red and angry looking. I leaned over, touching him with my fingertips. He jerked away.
“It looks infected.” And gross, but I didn’t mention that.
“It looks worse than it feels,” he said, collapsing back onto the bed.
“For your sake I hope you’re telling the truth.” I cleaned the cut with peroxide, dabbing at it carefully, then I covered it with Neosporin just to be on the safe side.
Alex yawned as I rebandaged his side. “Francis is very bossy,” he said. “That ingrate told me I was slowing them down. And I was like; excuse me for getting stabbed while attempting to save the kingdom, so sorry to slow you down.” That sounded more like me than him. It made me laugh.
As soon as I was done he pulled the covers over himself and rolled carefully onto his good side. I sat beside him, running my fingers through his hair.
“Tab?”
“Yes?”
“Thanks for coming for me.”
I pictured him lying in that beautiful field. Dying there. Even though I knew he was safe, it still made sick to think about it. I managed a squeaky, “No problem.”
“I really didn’t want to die without seeing you completely naked and I would have if you didn’t come.” He sighed happily. “Tab?”
I couldn’t take much more. I was either going to cry or jump on top of him. He was in no state to handle either. I needed a minute away from him to clear my head. “I’m going to get George. He needs to know you’re here. Maybe he can help.”
“You already helped. I’m good as new.” He reached out and grabbed my hand.
“I think maybe George should have a look anyway. I’ll be right back.”
“Please don’t leave me.” He sounded pitiful and sick, like a scared little boy. I sat down on the edge of the bed just as he shot up, wincing at the pull to his side. He put his hands on my shoulders. He looked at me, his eyes unfocused and hazy. The butterflies in my stomach were on red alert. “George is doing a shit job of protecting you.”
The unexpected curse made me laugh. It sounded all wrong coming from his beautiful mouth. I wanted to kiss him. I put my hand on his shoulder and gently nudged him back down to the bed. “Don’t be silly. I’m alive aren’t I?”
He looked confused. “But I got in the house. I came up to your room and surprised you in the shower. If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead now and George hasn’t even come in to check on you. There will be repercussions for his lack of care.” Funny how he could go from sounding like sick little boy to an annoyed king in just a couple of sentences.
“Calm down, now. George has done an excellent job and I don’t want to hear otherwise. You know, his room is right over there, on the other side of the bathroom. I’ll bet he heard you and me talking when you came in and decided to give us some privacy. He’s rooting for you, you know? He keeps telling me to forget Robbin and fall in love with you.”
“That’s a good idea,” he purred. “Are you going to take his advice?”
“Maybe. Now please, lie down. You need to rest.”
He rested his hand against my cheek and smiled at me, all sleepy and rumpled and delicious. “Will you lie down with me?” Even sick and a little delirious, he was so damned appealing. I should have resisted; a smarter woman would have. But I never claimed to be smart. I climbed in next to him, let him spoon up against me and wrap his arm around my waist. Once we were settled together there was a sigh of contentment, but I honestly can’t say if it came from him or me.
“That’s better,” he said.
And he was right, it was better. An ache I wasn’t aware I’d been feeling suddenly went away. The feeling of peace and contentment that I experienced in my vision of him, before I realized he was bleeding out that is, came and settled around us.
“I feel that fee
ling you feel right now too. It’s our Homecoming. It means we belong together.” He yawned, already half asleep. “And it’s just us, just you and me without a magical assist. You can’t enchant a Homecoming. It either is or is not.”
“Don’t push your luck,” I said even though I was wondering what it would be like if I gave in to the enchantment and let it make me love him. It would be easier than fighting it all the time. And we would be happy. Eventually I would forget that it wasn’t my idea to be with him; I would forget Robbin too, the enchantment would see to that.
“Did I thank you for saving my life?” His voice was as soft as velvet.
“I’m pretty sure you did.” He inched closer to me and buried his face in my hair.
