by Jen Crane
My head lolled against his chest, but my mind raced. Am I really safe here? What now? How long can I stay here alone without losing it completely?
A twig snapped at the forest’s edge.
Ewan and I were wound so tightly with anxiety; we whipped around in defensive fighting postures. Mine most certainly resembled a herniated ninja, but Ewan’s strong back arched elegantly in preparation of changing forms. He was impressive as hell as his breathing came fast and hard, and the muscles of his shoulders strained to stay inside his olive skin. Serene, contemplative Ewan had transformed into savage protector in a matter of seconds. I stepped away from him subconsciously.
“It’s just us,” Boone announced. He and Timbra stepped free of the woods’ shadows. “Don’t broil us.”
“Not funny, Boone.” I shot him an irritated look, but my friend’s every move, every goofy expression, betrayed his fun-loving nature, and it was impossible to stay angry with him. Sandy blond hair topped Boone’s classic good looks. He was tall—too tall—too big, and too much. Also, just right.
“We came as soon as we heard,” Timbra said in a rush.
Timbra’s forbearers were deer, and she had some fairly distinct indicators of the cervid decent. The long, black lashes of her doe eyes blinked frequently, calling attention to them…until you caught sight of her ears. Pert, fawn-colored ears protruded from honeyed hair so fine it blew like wisps of silk in the wind.
While everyone in Thayer turned furry now and then, Timbra was the only one of my close friends who consistently displayed a trait of her alternate form. Boone was descended from great dogs, Ewan from wolves, Layla from birds. They could all pass in my old world as human, but Timbra never would. Before Rowan Gresham crashed into my car in my sleepy college town and showed me another world existed, one I was born into but kept ignorant of by my own mother, I went about life like any normal college girl. I put off studying until the last possible minute. I partied too much and stayed out too late. What little money I had went to fast food and bar tabs.
But things in Thayer were far different. People here had descended from a variety of species, not just apes. It was these hereditary differences that caused Boone and Timbra, two of the best people I knew, such difficulty and pain. They were in love. The real kind of love, I suspected, but their match was forbidden. People of such varied ancestries couldn’t conceive a child, and so society deemed their relationships unnatural. Families prided themselves on “pure” lines, looking down on those who strayed outside their species. Boone and Timbra knew all of this. They had tried to stay away from each other, but fate had a different plan. The two had fallen deeply, irrevocably in love. Their future was uncertain, but their present was a wonderful thing to behold.
“I’m glad you came,” I said to the pair. “But you may want to reconsider the company you’re keeping. I was just expelled from The Root. Nice they informed the entire Radix campus before actually telling me.”
Timbra’s lips stretched into a tight grimace. “I’m so sorry, Stell. What can we do? What are you going to do now?”
“Hell if I know. I’ll hide out here for a bit, I suppose. I’ve nowhere else to go. I mean, I could go back to my old life—my old home on Earth, but they’d eventually find me there. Gresham found me the first time.”
Gresham’s knowledge of my location was of concern because, as I had learned after having an affair with him, he was Director of Thayerian Defense. If he found us, I had no doubt he’d take me in. A low growl rumbled through Ewan’s lips and I shot him an exasperated look. He was no fan of Rowan Gresham, to put it mildly.
“Taking shelter here is all you can do for now,” he said. I winked at him in support of the small victory over his animal form. When it came to Gresham, or any threat to me, really, Ewan's wolf form tried to fight its way out. It demanded to be heard, to be feared. This only seemed a mild irritation to Ewan rather than a source of embarrassment or frustration. Everyone had alternate forms, after all. It was how we managed them that counted.
“At least you’re safe here,” Timbra said, her slender ears twitching nervously. The movement caught Boone’s eye, and he reached instinctively to touch them. She jerked from his reach, and her whole body shivered. “Boone!” she admonished. “You can’t touch my ears in public, you perv. You know what that does to me.” Boone appeared to be adequately shamed, though he did glance longingly at them several times.
“Right,” Boone chimed in at last. “And we’ll keep visiting. You may have to stay here, but you’re not alone.”
“I’m going to stay with her.” Ewan’s plan was news to me, and my spine shot straight at the presumption. He hadn’t asked. But I soon relaxed with pleasure at the images the thought evoked. Secluded with Ewan in a cabin, rasping my bare legs against the hair of his calves as we lay tangled on the couch together—the only two people for miles and miles. Yessss. My eyes fell closed as my imagination took off like a lit fuse.
While my body was on board with his plan, my brain shouted warnings. I crossed my arms, hugging myself through the very real scenario of staying the night with Ewan. Our physical contact had been fairly innocent to date. Hot, yes, but harmless.
Kissing Ewan Bristol was volatile. We’d had such chemistry since the moment we met; I always feared we’d spontaneously combust. Was I ready for more with Ewan? For everything? The answer to that question was less clear than I’d like.
Did I want to make love to him? Damn straight I did.
But was it too soon since Gresham? Was physical intimacy just one more entree on my too-full plate? I was suddenly too overwhelmed to think clearly. I closed my eyes to hide both from my own thoughts, and to shield my feelings from the group.
The increase in my stress level must have been obvious, because Ewan looked down with a frown. “What’s wrong?”
I squeezed my lips together and I shook my head.
“Something’s bothering you. What is it? Are you afraid Gresham will find you here? The others? Don’t worry. I’ll do everything I can to prevent that. And if it happens, I’ll protect you.”
He searched my face, his gaze confident and sympathetic. Sometimes, when I looked into Ewan’s eyes, I thought they should somehow brim over with emotion, because the force of his passion was nearly a tangible thing, like tears were to sorrow.
But his eyes soon took on another look, one of impressed amusement. “Not that you need me to protect you,” he teased. “The last time I tried, you tossed me aside like an irritating gnat.”
I grinned at the memory. “I’m still mad at you for biting my ass.”
“You’ve got another bite coming.”
Rawr. My body shivered deliciously and erupted into a thousand tiny goosebumps.
“Yeah. Still standing here.” Boone’s raised eyebrows and faux-disapproving expression didn’t fool anyone. He was enjoying mine and Ewan’s developing relationship as much as we were. Okay, almost. “What I don’t understand is how they found that journal entry,” Boone continued.
“Stella thinks they accessed some kind of Radix master file. She’d previously deleted that post, but it was still out there. Obviously.”
“Why don’t you ask her?” Timbra suggested.
“Who?” Ewan and I asked at the same time.
“Your P.I.A. She’ll know who’s been digging around in her files.”
I blew my lips in exasperation. Of course.
“Pia,” I asked, “Do you know how Dean Miles retrieved the deleted journal entry she referenced in that first message?”
“Certainly.”
“Annnnd?”
“I gave it to her.”
“You WHAT?” The four of us howled in unison.
“I forwarded the journal entry to Dean Miles,” Pia repeated.
“Why the hell would you do that?” My voice rose with emotion.
“To save you. Dragons are one of two primary threats to Thayer, Stella, and Brandubh is the second. It is widely known Brandubh was the mastermind behind the Steward M
assacre. When you revealed your origin, your relatives, and your encounters with the sorcerer, I was obligated to share that information with Radix Administration to protect not just the people of Thayer, but to protect you. Vice Chancellor Edgecliffe, Dean Miles, and the Radix Board of Directors can utilize the information I collected to enforce Radix rules and uphold Thayerian law. My role in the safety of our students is of vital importance.”
“God, you sound just…like…them.” Comprehension dawned. I shook my head in disgust. Though she had a mind of her own, someone had programmed Pia. Of course, her loyalty would lie with the school, and not with me. I’d been incredibly dumb, incredibly naive. I was also incredibly heartbroken. Despite the rational source of Pia’s disloyalty, I still felt the sharp sting of betrayal.
At the thought of the word ‘betrayal,’ Layla’s mother, Val Avenatio, and her portentous words came back to me as if on the wings of a bird. “You aren’t free of danger yet. You’ll be betrayed again before all of this is through.”
I deflated. Breath left my gaping mouth in a rush, my limp arms weighted my shoulders to the ground, and my knees buckled before I caught myself. I couldn’t lift my eyes to look at anyone, especially Pia, whose magically mechanized face was modeled after my own. I’d come to trust her like a techy friend, and her betrayal felt like catching a roommate and my boyfriend in bed.
Oh my God. What if she can tell them where I am now? What if she turns me in? I ground my teeth at my own ignorance and reached to disable Pia without warning her first. Her expressive eyebrows drew down in confusion as I depressed the small button to power her down. Her mouth opened to protest just before she faded completely.
I cleared my throat to get their attention, and raised my eyebrows in silent question to my friends. “Don’t speak—don’t answer out loud,” I sent telepathically to the group. “Did you bring your P.I.A.’s? If so, turn them off. Now.”
Timbra nodded slowly and reached in the pocket of her gray cardigan to power off her P.I.A., Fawn, as did Ewan. Boone had come tech naked.
“Don’t bring those back,” I said when they gave me the all-clear. “Obviously, they’re not trustworthy. But…what should I do with this thing?” I angled my head toward Pia. “I’m afraid there’s probably still a tracking function.”
“Good point,” Ewan said. “Let me have her. I’ll dispose of her.”
He traced away without another word, returning in a matter of minutes.
I wouldn’t ask. I didn’t care. I didn’t. “What did you do with her?” I whispered.
“I threw the betraying bitch to the bottom of a lake.”
Hard as I tried to remain angry and stoic, a pang of regret gripped me when I imagined Pia gurgling, calling out to me as she sank to the water’s depths.
Chapter 4
Ewan searched the small space of the cabin for something to do. As he paced, he ran his hand along the cabin’s wooden mantle, inspecting trinkets that had found their way to prominence over the years. “Want me to make a fire?”
I shook my head. “Too warm out.”
Ewan and I were alone. Timbra and Boone had left for The Root. I busied myself doing laundry in the kitchen sink. Oh, how I missed modern conveniences. I’d always heard it said how fragrant, how fresh, sun-dried clothes and bedding were. Ha. Scratchy and stiff—no thank you. Give me fabric softener and an electric dryer any day.
“How about I make dinner?” Ewan cooed as he joined me in the kitchen.
“You can cook?”
He nodded.
“Can you cook well?” I asked dubiously.
His eyes fell shut when he laughed, but seemed steeled with determination when they opened again.
He was suddenly behind me. Too close. Can’t breathe. He used one hand to push the mess of my hair aside, exposing my neck. The other arm he snaked around my hips to pull me tight against him. I stood motionless, frozen with my hands still immersed in warm, soapy water. Ewan nipped the side of my neck before planting a wide, slow kiss over it, and heat shot both to my face and down to my toes. The warmth of his mouth, his arm possessively around me, the water at my fingertips, all combined to send my temperature skyrocketing. Sweat beaded at my temples and trickled down my hairline.
As suddenly as he had approached, Ewan released me, reaching for a cast iron skillet hung above the sink. I held my position, recovering, attempting to slow my pant-like breaths.
He was at home in a kitchen, and gathered eggs, cinnamon, sugar, and a loaf of bread from the counter.
“What are you doing?” I laughed, drying my hands with a nearby dishtowel.
“Making brinner.”
“Br…what?”
“Breakfast for dinner. Brinner. You’ll love this.”
I hopped onto the counter, a rapt observer as he moved deftly through the small space. He soaked the bread in an egg mixture made with sugar and cinnamon before dropping the slices into a pan of hot butter.
“Where I come from we call this French toast,” I said.
“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, but his attention never left the food.
“Mmm.” My mouth began to water. Probably the melting butter.
“And do you like French toast?” Ewan asked, finally turning to me. His eyes met mine briefly, before they snagged on my lips.
“Very much,” I said, watching him, and not really talking about the food anymore.
“French toast is a silly name for it,” he said, pulling me from my little trance.
“Why?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure people were making Pan Dulcis long before France was a country.”
“I don’t believe that. How could you know that?”
“No idea where I picked that up,” he said with a shrug.
“And how do you know so much about my world?”
“We study it in school. Your history, your culture.”
“Really?” I asked. “Why? Thayer’s so different, so…enchanted. What could you possibly hope to learn?”
“Did you study other cultures, ancient civilizations in high school?” I nodded in answer to his question. “It’s like that. Because your world has no magic, your people have become masters of invention, of innovation, of industry. A lot of Thayerians love to travel there. Your rich history, your varying cultures…Disney World. It’s fascinating.” He smiled and leaned in to rub his nose along mine. “You’re fascinating.” I melted, just like the buttery mixture he’d created. “And whatever you call this culinary masterpiece, it’s ready to eat.”
Famished, and thrilled to consume the meal Ewan had prepared for us, my fork sunk into the puffy bread. In my mouth, the cinnamon, butter, and caramelized sugar combined to send my taste buds into saccharine bliss.
“OhmyGod,” I said, my mouth full and my brain fuzzy with pleasure. “Sogood.”
Ewan said nothing. His smile was confident, masculine as he took his own bite.
“What would you like to do now?” I asked after we’d cleared the kitchen of brinner dishes.
The silence between us was as thick as the tension, a living thing that wound around my throat and made it difficult to breathe. What now, indeed? I had some ideas. The heat behind his gaze told me he did, too.
Can’t. Not yet. “Gin!” I blurted.
Ewan tilted his head to the side. His lips gathered as he contemplated my meaning and then smoothed into a knowing, goofy grin. “I’ll see what’s in the liquor cabinet. Trying to get me drunk before you take advantage of me, are ya?”
“No.” I shook my head in genuine denial. “Gin rummy. It’s a card game. Ever played?”
“Noooo,” he said slowly, “but I’m teachable. Cards it is.” Ewan squinted again. Maybe he was attempting to get a read on my mood. Good luck with that. I searched a rickety buffet for a deck of cards. Even I don’t know what I want.
‘Teachable’ turned out to be the understatement of the year. Once I’d explained the rules, Ewan Bristol proceeded to systematically whip my ass.
“Beginner’s luck,” I teased and shuffled the deck of cards utilized so many times the edges were soft, the deck pliable as leather as I feathered it through my hands.
“Lucky? Definitely.” When I looked up, Ewan held my gaze and relayed his fervent interest…and not in the next hand of cards. Flames shot to my cheeks as his eyes shamelessly roamed my body. He didn’t hide his curiosity—or his intentions. “I’m finished playing cards,” he said, and rose from the kitchen table.
“Oh.” I cleared my throat. “Okay.”
“I have something else in mind,” he said and eased onto the sofa with confidence. “Come here.” He patted the spot near him on the sofa. His gaze on my lips betrayed his next move.
Shit, shit, shit.
A strained pressure built behind my eyes as I racked my brain for a way out of what he had in mind. It was dangerous for me to make out with Ewan Bristol. Always had been. Something about him made me forget my worries, my fears, and my plans. Each time I placed my trust in Ewan, placed my lips on his lips, my body near his body--everything else was lost. There was only Ewan and Stella. Dark and light. Danger and fear. Confidence and bravado.
If we started this thing, there was no stopping it. Not this time. I didn’t have the willpower. No, I didn’t have the desire to stop. He was exactly who and what I wanted.
Already a part of me was questioning why there should be any problem with this course of action. Why fight this? It’s right. You know it’s right. Since the first moment I brushed against Ewan in class, when I feared he’d devour me whole, I knew there was something special about him. The chemistry between us had always been enough to decimate us both.
Devour me whole! Decimate me! I shook my head to clear it. That’s it. That’s the reason. I can’t lose myself over a man. Not right now. Not again. Not after I lost my head so easily with Gresham. I had to move slowly. Ewan was much too much, and too soon. I had learned from my mistakes and vowed not to rush in again.
Ewan sensed my unease. Moments before, his face had said ‘smolder,’ but now that look was replaced with concern, and the beginning stirrings of rejection. “What are you thinking, Stell? Talk to me.”
