by Laura Kenyon
This afternoon, however, the house was fantastically quiet. The threat of rain had convinced every last guest to head into downtown Carpale, and kept the reporters at bay. Plus, no one was checking in or out until tomorrow. Without all the hustle and bustle, Belle had finished her morning chores in half the usual time.
“Maybe we should hope for rain more often,” she told Beast after purging her disgusting breakfast and plodding back into the bedroom. Her beloved dog was now sprawled across her maternity pillow and staring warily in her direction, fearing she might take it back. “But we shouldn’t make afternoon napping a regular thing. It just makes me feel so … tired.”
She wrenched the magazine from his hind legs and smoothed it against her belly. She was officially twenty-one weeks today, and had been getting by in leggings, elastic skirts, and baggy tops for the past month. But today, for some reason, Snow was throwing a last-minute birthday party for her husband. This meant she actually had to venture away from the Phoenix, out of Braddax, and all the way to Snow’s tiny island kingdom in the southwest corner of Marestam. She had to take a ferry, make mindless chitchat with politicians, and watch people drink wine she couldn’t have. But worse than all that, she had to look presentable in maternity clothes. The thought made her shiver.
But first, she needed some fresh air. A walk in the woods. Perhaps a dip in the stream down the road. According to her crumpled magazine, swimming would relieve all her body aches. It wouldn’t relieve the anguish of having to appear in public wearing a fancified circus tent, or of waiting for her life to officially go up in flames, but she couldn’t have everything.
“What do you think, buddy?” she asked, surveying the sky. It looked like one giant cloud, but Belle swore she could see sunshine behind it. Even if it spit a little, she couldn’t foresee an all-out downpour. “Want to explore the hills?”
Beast’s brow tented up as he gave a bored sigh with a high-pitched wheeze at the end. He then rolled onto his back with legs crudely parted, like a half-eaten mussel. She hadn’t used the magic word.
“Hey buddy!” she cooed, pasting on a huge smile and bouncing her voice like a rubber ball. “Wanna go for a walk?”
A silver tornado flipped off the bed, scrambled to his feet, lurched towards the door, and danced there. His entire back end wagged as his head frantically swished from the doorknob to Belle.
She burst out laughing. No matter how bad things got, this dog could always make her smile. If she did end up going back to Donner, Beast was coming. Not up for discussion.
* * *
Beast bolted out the door first, frolicking and jumping and hoisting his tail like this was the best day ever in the whole wide world. When it began to drizzle a few steps later, Belle hadn’t the heart to turn him around.
That was mistake number one.
“It’s just water, right?” He gazed up at her with that massive smile and leapt over a rock. Mud squished up beneath his paws and splattered across Belle’s legs. “Okay, water and muck. Whatever. We can give you a b-a-t-h later. Or maybe I’ll have Nathan do it while I’m at Snow’s. Oh, I forgot to tell you. You’re gonna have a babysitter tonight. Try not to eat him.”
They were plodding down the same path that had led Belle and Rapunzel to the Phoenix in the first place—when they’d gotten lost in the woods some months earlier. It was narrow and windy, with packed dirt and a few premature fallen leaves. Belle had refused to pave it—just as she’d refused to pave the long driveway or the Phoenix parking lot. Asphalt had no place in such a pristine setting. This way, she didn’t have to see any for a full mile, where the scenic byway between Carpale and the Pastora Realm wound through the trees.
She was barely twenty yards from this juncture when the clouds suddenly tore apart, soaking her in seconds. She stopped and tilted her face to the sky. It was actually quite refreshing—at least she thought so.
Beast, on the other hand, must have mistaken it for acid spearing him from the sky, because he instantly began to flail … and gallop … and drag Belle so ferociously through the trees that she had no choice but to drop the leash to protect the baby.
That was mistake number two.
The car didn’t exactly come out of nowhere. She saw something black flashing through the leaves a hundred yards away. She noticed the glint of headlights a split second later. But she didn’t process what that meant until it was almost too late—when she began frantically hollering for her dog.
“Beast!” she hollered, sprinting towards the road before her brain even gave the command. “Beast come! COME! NOW!”
Her dog screeched to a dead stop, looked at her, and then sped off again. Panic pumped through her body and boomeranged off every tree, hitting her again with a quadruple dose of terror. Her heart pounded. The car was still coming. Beast was still running. The stupid, happy, oblivious dog was still running towards the road. If ever there was ever a moment to stop time and bargain her soul, it was now. She needed Beast. She needed him more than she needed almost anything else in the world.
The earth closed in on itself as the car and the dog crossed. Belle screamed and ran. A bang shot through her spine. She reached the road with bright red eyes and rain drowning all her tears.
“Over here!” a man called from … somewhere. All she could see was fog and trees. Then she caught a red glow flashing a few feet down the embankment. She hopped off the road and raced toward it, telling herself over and over again that she wouldn’t find what she feared. This wasn’t happening.
Then the fog broke. The downpour lessened. She slammed to a stop. Crumpled against a tree, with a man kneeling at its side, was a massive heap of black metal. The rear wheels were two feet off the ground. The hood was curled up in the air. The tail lights were still on. And Beast was hovering over the wreck, trying to eat the smoke billowing out from the engine.
As usual, he couldn’t keep his attention on one thing for more than two seconds. So after chomping at the vapor a few times, he backed up, plopped down in front of the man, swished his tail, pawed at the air between them, and then hopped up again to bite more smoke.
Belle sucked in the weight of the world even as she felt it release from her shoulders. The man saw her and rose to his feet. She wanted to punch him, hug him, and beg his forgiveness all at the same time. She wanted to scream at him for driving too fast on a scenic road laced with hiking trails. She wanted to kiss him for swerving out of Beast’s way. And she wanted to apologize—profusely—for what her dog had done to his car.
But mostly, she wanted to wrap her arms around that stupid, filthy, unwieldy animal. Immediately.
“Beast!” she called, imagining a beautiful symphony of hugs and kisses, a slow motion run that ended in two muddy paws on her shoulders and a fat, leathery tongue licking away her tears.
Instead, she got a glance and a tail wave. And then he started to race in circles, running up to her first, brushing her legs, and then making a beeline back toward the stranger. Belle chased after him. The man chased after him. There were multiple figure eights, a few fake-outs, and a whole lot of leaping.
“I think he’s corralling us,” he said when Belle stopped to catch her breath. Exercise was great for pregnancy, but there was a limit.
“I think you’re right,” she said with a laugh. Then she managed to catch Beast’s leash with her foot, loop it over her hand, and wrap it tightly around her fist. She tussled his ear and brought her nose right down to his. “I don’t think I should ever take this off of you again.”
“Oh, he’s just having fun.”
Belle straightened up and finally looked at him. Mid-twenties probably, maybe slightly younger than her. Handsome, sure, but not gorgeous. With shaggy brown hair that curled a bit at the ends. The sleeves of his jacket poured down over his wrists, making him look smaller than he actually was—which was significantly smaller than Donner already. But his eyes—his eyes and his smile—made Belle waver just a tiny bit. The former, to her dismay, were dark around the outsi
de but bright in the center. They were huge and deep, and he did this energetic thing with his eyebrows that seemed to lure her in closer.
“I am so, so sorry about your car,” she found herself saying as he stroked the air in a “no big deal” sort of way. Of course, his eyebrows did that thing again as he said this, and one side of his mouth lifted as if to start a wink. How was he so calm? “I don’t usually let him go like that, but … the rain. He’s strong.”
The smirk lifted higher. The gaze didn’t stop. She crossed her arms and introduced herself.
“Gray,” he returned.
“As in Grayson?”
He flicked his head in amusement and shifted his weight. “Just Gray.”
“Umm … Well, thank goodness you saw him in time. And that you swerved,” she said, rubbing Beast’s head. Right now, it was her only way to stay calm. His fur was like a toddler’s comfort blanket. Or a stress ball. “I know your car is paying the price, but if anything had happened to him …”
She trailed off, unable to say it. Beast’s eyes were half closed as he enjoyed her pat.
“No biggie,” Gray said with a shrug. “Goliath here would’ve done as much damage as the tree. And blood stains are worse than splinters.”
Belle felt a wave of both gratitude and disgust. “Beast,” she said, matter-of-factly.
Gray knocked his head back and gave another pop of laughter. “Beast? Weren’t you just calling me a hero?”
Belle sucked in her cheeks and began chewing them from the inside. “No. My dog’s name is Beast. And I don’t think I said hero. This road’s supposed to be for slow—” She stopped upon seeing a black knot tied around Beast’s front leg. “What’s that?”
Gray squinted and examined her expression. He looked confused. Then he followed the direction of her stare and bobbed his head bit in recognition. “What? The leg?”
“Yes, the leg.” What was up with this guy? “Why is that thing on it?”
“Oh,” Gray ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, he was bleeding. And I had a scarf.”
Belle dropped instantly to her knees and reached for Beast’s right paw. She was spouting a chopped up mixture of curses, coos, and reprimands.
“It’s no big deal. A shard of glass just grazed him.”
“A shard of glass?” Belle shrieked. Beast reeled up at her tone. “A shard?”
If he’d said “piece” or “bit,” she might have been able to handle it. But something about the word “shard” conjured images of severed limbs and bloody rags and her poor little puppy lying on an operating table while someone with rubber gloves fished through his fur. She lunged unsuccessfully for the scarf. She wanted to inspect the damage, but Beast wouldn’t have any of it. He tried to clamor away again. Gray grabbed his collar.
“Really, it’s just a scrape,” he said, plopping one knee in the mud and unwinding the scarf. “I just put this here to keep him from licking it to infection. He just needs some Betadine, a dab of muciproxin, and rest.”
Belle opened her mouth, then clapped it shut. Gray retied the scarf and wandered over to his car. It looked so sad sitting there, hunched over and burying its head in the tree. Moments earlier it was shiny, sleek, and powerful. For all she knew, it was this man’s prized possession. Or maybe he had a dozen others just like it in a thirty-car garage.
She edged up behind him as he fiddled with something in the front seat. “Do you think it can be fixed?”
He shrugged again, but not in the depressed way she’d expected. Rather, he sort of bounced, as if she’d just asked if he wanted a ham sandwich or salami. “Probably. If not, I’ll just get another. No biggie. That’s what insurance is for, right?”
Right, Belle thought. Insurance. Hopefully Donner hadn’t struck her from their policy at this point. “Glad to see you’re not attached to it.”
“Nah.” He held up four chunks of a broken cell phone. “But you got a phone I can use?”
Belle made a show of checking her pockets, though she knew it was a fruitless search. The only thing hiding beneath her clothes was a trio of poop bags and some ginger drops for nausea. She shook her head. “Not with me.”
“Well then.” Gray’s arms sprung open to reveal a tight vintage t-shirt hugging an even tighter torso. He was lanky but in an athletic sort of way—a boxer’s body versus her husband’s weightlifter physique. “I guess we’re walking.” Swooping down, he grabbed a makeshift hiking stick and kicked the leaves on his march toward the inn. “You do live this way, right?”
Beast, unwilling to let this animated new toy slip away, frolicked immediately after him, pulling Belle along for the ride.
They walked the next quarter mile in silence. Well, Belle’s silence anyway. Beast kept a steady downbeat of panting and Gray whistled haphazard notes at random times. She wanted to regain the peace she’d found before those headlights came into view, but Beast’s easy attachment to this stranger and Gray’s inhuman calm made that a difficult task. Now that the gloomy sky had fled in favor of blinding white, she suspected he was a tad older than she’d thought. She could see faint lines hooking around the corners of his lips. Or perhaps he just smiled a lot. His was one of those faces that made age a total mystery.
“The rain’s stopped,” she said, opting to break the silence with the laziest subject matter known to man—the weather.
Gray nodded and whistled something new. Belle pressed her lips together and enjoyed the smell of wet bark and leaves. Only a few bits of orange popped out against the green now, but soon the forest would be a giant kaleidoscope. She was looking forward to that.
Suddenly, Belle grunted as something yanked her backwards. Beast had stopped abruptly, pulling the leash tight as a tow line. She cursed and spun around. He was in the attack position: front paws spread out, butt jerked into the air, a silver mohawk running down his back.
“What’s up, buddy?” she asked as he gave a low, rumbling growl. Gray continued on, whistling and oblivious.
Then Beast barked, which was unusual, but perhaps he was showing off for his new human. She tugged him forward. He planted his legs and barked again. Then she followed the direction of his stare and froze. The hair on her arms spiked.
On the ground, just inches from her foot, a pile of leaves was shaking. Then the colors began to swirl in opposite directions—tans and golds and dark brown diamonds. The unmistakable marks of a copperhead.
Her heart fluttered and then raced. A million instructions collided through her head. Run. Back up slowly. Stand still. Yell. Keep quiet. She had no idea what to do.
Uncoiling, the snake swayed its head and hissed. Beast’s growl instantly erupted into a barrage of barks as he jerked backwards, pulling Belle with him. It all happened in a second. The sudden movement startled the snake, causing it to unravel fully and weave after them. That’s when Beast lunged, bobbing and barking between her and the serpent.
Loyal, stupid dog. A copperhead bite would only wound her, but he might not survive. Although—she wrapped her hands slowly around her belly, as if the poison would only cause damage with a direct hit—neither might her baby.
The seconds passed like hours before Gray realized he was alone and turned back around. He approached the scene with a curious expression, obviously unaware of the snake. Belle expected one of three things to happen: He’d see it and panic; panic first but then do something heroic; or stay back and calmly talk her through the process of getting out of this unscathed.
Belle glanced at him and pointed without saying a word—as if her voice might startle the snake more than her dog already had. Gray gave a bemused smile before looking at her, looking at Beast, taking three folksy steps toward them, and casually kicking the snake off the road with his foot.
Belle hollered, then watched him spin back around, resume his whistling, and continue on his way. When she finally caught up, he smiled—favoring the left side of his mouth again—and twirled his stick in the air. “You afraid of spiders too?” he asked.
&n
bsp; Belle’s mouth opened but seemed physically incapable of forming any words. When something finally came out, it certainly wasn’t any language she’d heard before. This man was either fearless, reckless, or insane. Or a mixture of all three.
“Did you realize that was a copperhead?” she asked.
He furrowed his brow and gave her a side glance. “Nope. Should I?”
“Should you? Well … yes! They’re poisonous!”
He smushed his lips to one side as if reaching for some buried thought. “Oh. Okay.”
“Okay? Oh-kay?” Her head knocked back in disbelief. “You just marched right up to a poisonous snake and kicked it in the mouth! You could have at least used the stick! And all you have to say is okay?”
Gray shrugged and knocked a stone with his foot. It skipped along the ground for a good ten feet. He kicked it again when they caught up.
“Snakes don’t scare me,” he said. “Not much does.”
Belle rolled her eyes to the side and clamped her mouth shut. Was he really playing the big strong man card? More like big smirking idiot. What was with this guy? She really didn’t want to know anything about his life. She was at a place in her own that warranted spurning every handsome man she encountered. But she just had to know. How had he become so … aloof? And happy? And oblivious at the same time?
“So are you from Braddax or just passing through?” she asked, telling herself conversation would make their walk go faster.
“Passing through,” he said, adding that he hailed from “a tiny, two-store farming town” in the Pastora Realm. He’d left home to take a sabbatical of sorts, “to discover what this world has to offer.”
Belle couldn’t help but scoff.
“I’m sorry, but take it from me. The world offers nothing but pain,” she said, surprising herself with her own words. “It offers the chance to become half of what you are now. You’re better off going home and keeping your hope and spirit intact. The world is an evil, scary place.”
