by T. S. Ryder
The bells on the door jingled and then to my surprise I saw Anton Lev enter. He stepped through the door and took his hat off, slipping it into his pocket. I looked up at him with my hooded eyes.
He made his way over to me, resting his hands on the counter.
“Hello, Kristen,” he said.
“Hi,” I replied. My voice was slurred and my eyes were struggling to stay open. Was all of this his fault? Could Hank have been right? Were the Lev’s breeding lions? It seemed so improbable as to be impossible. But I had seen the lion with my own two eyes. I had heard his roar and seen the yellow eyes of a predator that would have easily devoured me.
“You don’t look very well,” he said. “Are you feeling alright?”
“I might be coming down with something,” I said staring right into his strong, dark eyes. “I spent the night trapped in your barn being hunted by a wild animal.”
“Yes, I heard from the police,” he said. “I’m sorry that happened. If I can offer you anything in the form of help. Anything you need.”
“Why was there a lion on your property last night?” I demanded.
“A lion?” he asked and for a second, I almost believed that he was shocked. But there was something in his eyes that wasn’t quite right. He was lying. “There aren’t any lions on my property. Maybe it was a coyote or-”
“Do you think I’m an idiot?” I asked him. “I know the difference between a lion and a coyote.”
I swallowed and it hurt so much it brought tears to my eyes. I was so tired that I wanted to cry. I looked at this rich, handsome, rugged man standing across from me. He would probably leave here and get into his fancy car, all nice and warm. And then head home to his huge, giant mansion. I hated him at that moment.
“Why were you in the barn?” he asked, his voice terse. “The property boundary is clearly marked with no trespassing signs.”
I shrugged, “fuck the signs.”
“Ignoring the signs is what led you to be trapped in the barn,” he countered.
“No, you breeding lions on your property is what caused me to be trapped in a freezing cold barn all night long.”
“What?” he demanded and this was an honest what. He honestly had no idea what I was talking about. “Don’t believe that nonsense. We don’t breed lions, tigers or anything like that. We never have. It’s a stupid rumor.”
“I know what I saw,” I said.
“I’m taking you to the doctor,” he said shaking his head.
“I’m fine,” I said, my voice loud. “I’m just tired. I need to get some sleep and then I’ll be fine.”
“Where are you staying?” he asked.
“None of your damn business,” I said, pulling back and away from him.
“Look, this is a small town. Everyone knows that you’re here, but no one knows where you’re staying. Which makes me think that you’re not staying somewhere good. You were trapped on my property last night and now you look very sick. I want to make that right.”
“I don’t need your charity,” I said. I couldn’t go to the doctor, I had to stay hidden. My father had eyes everywhere.
“Why are you being so obstinate?” he demanded. “I’m trying to help you. That’s all.”
“I’m fine on my own,” I replied.
He shook his head. I don’t remember him leaving. I barely remember leaving the bookstore. I locked the doors, set the alarm and headed towards my squatter’s paradise in a thick haze of fever.
It was starting to snow. Big, heavy, puffy flakes of snow that settled on my head and shoulders, clinging to my jacket. Already the snow was beginning to stick to the tops of cars and buildings. It was going to be a doozy. They were predicting two feet.
I was ready, I thought, as I stumbled towards my office suite. I had plenty of dry firewood and some fruit. Plus, I could walk to the bookstore even through thick snow. I just had to get through the night.
I could feel that I had a fever. I had taken some aspirin with me and I took three of them once I was in my little nest. I wasn’t sure if I should be taking them, because of the baby, but being sick would’ve probably harmed it more, so I decided to risk it.
It felt wonderful to be laying down. I was so, so tired. I forced myself to build a small fire and pop the window open.
I could stay awake a little while longer, just until the fire went down. I just needed to keep my eyes open.
Chapter Six
I was so tired, but sleep refused to come. Dead-eyed I stared out the window and watched heavy flakes fall outside. Snow, so much snow. I loved snow. Growing up, my favorite thing to do was take a walk after the snow had fallen. The city felt like it was covered in a thick, soft blanket. Everything was quiet and soft in a way the city never was.
It was one of the reasons I came to Maine. I wanted to live in the country, far from the city. I hadn’t planned on living in an abandoned building, I imagined it would have been nicer if I lived in a real house.
I felt hot and cold all at the same time. My face was burning, but the rest of me was shivering. Every time I drifted off to sleep I would wake myself up with my teeth chattering. My throat was raw and painful, my head was pounding and my entire body ached. Tears slid down my cheeks. I wanted to go home, but I didn’t have one. This little room with its trashcan fire was my only home and I hated it.
Finally, well into the night, I managed to fall asleep. Shivering in my nest of blankets I could see figures in the shadows on the wall. Monsters lurked and jeered at me, threatening me that soon, so soon they would come for me. Faces and figures jumped out at me and I hid under my blanket in the hope that if they couldn’t see me, they couldn’t get me.
Then I heard something, a noise coming from the window. Bleary-eyed I peeked over the blanket. The fire was dead, I didn’t remember closing the window, but it was sealed shut, so I must have.
I squinted, trying to figure out what was happening outside. I saw a flash of tan and then a huge paw was scratching at the window. The lion had found me. It had come looking for me and now it was going to eat me. There was nothing I could do. I was too tired, too sick. The lion would get me.
I watched as the lion managed to open the window. Its huge paws pushed the sill open and it poked its mangy head inside. My eyes weren’t working correctly. One moment it was a man and then the next it was a lion. I would see it moving on all fours and then blink and it was on two legs.
“No,” I moaned. “Leave me alone.” It came out a sob and feebly I brought my hands up to protect my face.
The lion was whispering something in my ear. Soothing, calming words. His giant mouth came down and he gathered me up in it. But he wasn’t eating me. He pushed the blankets aside and helped me sit up.
“Come with me,” I heard him say, but I didn’t know how a lion could talk. I stumbled to my feet as he took me up in his mouth. I felt like a cub carried by her mother. I was on my feet, my hands buried in the lion's mane. But no, we were both up on two feet, it wasn’t a lion, it was a man.
I could barely stand. I could barely walk. The lion was supporting me. We found our way to the door and he kicked the chair aside and opened it. The rest of the building had a creepy desolate feeling. Wires hung from the ceiling, chairs lay scattered over the bare floor. But we didn’t stay long. We moved to the front door and he kicked this open too.
The wind hit me like a ton of bricks. My hair was lifted up off my shoulders. Snow was swirling around us in a fierce gale. I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of me. The world outside was a frozen hellscape. The snow was already past my ankles as the lion, or maybe it was a man, pulled me towards a waiting car.
The car was running and it was so wonderfully warm inside. I fell into the backseat where a blanket was waiting for me. I stretched out as the lion lifted the blanket over me.
The door slammed closed and for a moment, I was alone in the running car. Then someone got in the front seat and slowly the tires crunched through the snow and the movement rock
ed me back to sleep.
***
I don’t know how long I was out. I had no memory of leaving the car and no idea where I was. I opened my eyes to soft, yellow sunlight pouring through a huge, ornate window. I wasn’t in my squatter’s home, I was in a real one.
The bed beneath me was impossibly soft. It felt like the mattress had conformed perfectly to my body. The sheets were silky smooth and I felt so wonderfully warm. It took a moment for my eyes to focus. I felt a sharp sting in my left arm and looked down to see an IV leading to a clear bag suspended above my head. I felt better. My throat was still scratchy and I still felt weak, but my headache was gone, my limbs had stopped shaking, the aching was gone.
The room was painted a soft yellow with dark trim. There were long, heavy red curtains on the windows and framed paintings of dogs and horses lined the walls. My bed was large and ornate with a carved headboard.
I felt so warm and comfortable. I was perfectly happy to just lie in this big, soft fluffy bed forever. I didn’t care where I was or who had brought me here. I was too tired to fight anymore. I didn’t yell for help or try to escape, I just closed my eyes and slipped into a pleasant sleep.
I woke up to a cold hand on my warm forehead. I opened my eyes and saw Anton Lev standing over me with a worried look on his face.
Anton Lev, I thought. It was impossible. Why was he here? How did he find me? I tried to sit up, but Anton just shushed me and gently pushed on my shoulder until I was on my back again.
“Just rest,” he said quietly. “Don’t try to move, you’re still very sick.”
“Where am I?” I asked. It came out a hoarse whisper and the act of speaking tore my throat apart.
“You’re at my house,” Anton said as he sat down in a stiff, high-backed chair next to the bed. “I found you last night.”
“How?” I asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said with a shake of his head. “You were half-dead from fever when I found you. Why were you sleeping in that abandoned office?”
I shrugged weakly and said, “Nowhere else to go.”
“I offered to help you,” he said. His dark eyes were staring directly into mine. He ran his hands through his thick beard and then put his elbows on his knees. “Why did you say no? You could have frozen to death last night.”
I didn’t know what to say. I had been so tired and terribly sick as it would turn out. I couldn’t think straight or plan ahead. Anton was waiting for an answer. He stared down at me, but all I could do was shake my head and then look away. I looked over at the IV.
“Who did this?” I asked.
“A doctor came, the family’s personal physician, he saw to you last night. He had to leave to see to some other patients, but he’ll be back later today. If he can get through the snow,” he replied. Outside everything was white, the snow was stilling falling without a break.
“Over two feet so far and they think we might get another,” Anton said as if he could read my mind. “You might be stuck here for a few days. But you don’t need to worry about anything. You’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you.”
My eyes were heavy. They were closing despite my struggle to keep them open. I shouldn’t stay here. I should leave. I didn’t know this man. I had only met him a few times at the bookstore. He could be anyone.
But the bed was so comfortable and I was so warm. Whatever medicine I had been given was doing the trick. I felt monumentally better than I had the night before. I just felt tired, impossibly tired.
He told me to trust him and I wanted to. His eyes were gentle and he had only ever been kind to me. Would it be so impossible for him to actually be a good person who wanted to help me? Maybe there were good people left in the world after all.
Chapter Seven
I slept for fourteen hours. Straight through the night. I woke early the next morning feeling almost back to my old normal self. The IV had been removed, a Band-Aid placed on the inside of my elbow.
I was thirsty when I woke up. There was a glass of water next to my bed and I managed to pull myself into a sitting position. I took a delicate sip. At first, my dry throat burned from the drink, but soon the water was soothing and I drank the whole glass.
There was a bell and a note in Anton’s slanting handwriting telling me to ring it when I woke up. But the thought of ringing a bell for help seemed too absurd and rude. Anton had taken me in and saved my life, I wasn’t going to treat him like a servant. I pulled the covers off of my legs. I was wearing a hospital gown and a pair of thick socks.
I stepped out of the bed and onto the floor. My legs were shaky and I was unsure on them. Leaning against whatever I could find, chairs, a desk or the wall, I made my way to the window.
The world was covered in white. It blanketed the ground, it hung from trees, it covered the driveway. I could see a raised portion of the snow and I figured there must have been a car buried in there. The world was silent, the snow muffling any sounds.
This was the Lev mansion. It was located next to a large lake on a huge piece of property. I had only seen it from afar. A large, modern looking mansion surrounded by a tall wrought iron gate. It was strange to see it from the inside. I had to re-orient myself.
Everything I touched was perfect. The desk was made of a hard wood with intricately carved drawers. The paintings were all excellent, hung on the walls in gold frames. The bed had a series of lion heads carved into the headboard. They roared, their mouths open, their manes shown in great detail, each tooth was carved to perfection.
I stretched, raising my arms above my head and standing on my tiptoes. I moved my head from side to side and then I heard footsteps on the stairs. I hurried back to bed and pulled the covers around me, finishing just as Anton knocked twice on the door.
“Come in,” I called out, my voice clearer than it had been before.
“You’re awake,” he said as he entered. He held a tray in his arms. There were orange juice, fruit and a covered plate. He moved with a stately elegance, even holding a tray of food he still looked like a king, or maybe czar would have been the better word. “Are you hungry?”
I nodded. I was hungry. My stomach felt empty. He found a stand, placed it on the bed and put the tray on top of it. He lifted the lid off the plate revealing steaming scrambled eggs, toast and bacon. It looked beautiful and smelled even better. My stomach growled loud enough for him to hear.
“Go ahead,” he said nodding to the food.
“What about you?” I asked as I pulled the food closer.
“I ate already,” he said. He sat down in the stiff chair and faced me.
I felt very self-conscious under his gaze. But I was too hungry to ignore the food in front of me. I dug into the eggs and toast, relishing every bite. But my stomach had shrunk in the last few weeks and after just a few bites, I was full.
“You need to eat more than that,” he said. “You need your strength.”
“Oh, I’m trying to get down to a size zero,” I joked, but he just shook his head.
“You’re a beautiful woman, don’t try and change yourself. You should look like a woman.
I looked away. I had only very recently come to appreciate my curves. Growing up my father had told me that men don’t date fat women. He was always judging my food choices, asking me if I was really going to eat that. I let my stomach settle and then went back for more. Taking a few more bites.
“So, this is your house?” I asked.
He nodded, “It’s been in the family for generations.”
“It’s lovely.”
“When you’re feeling better I’ll give you a tour,” he said. “Although you won’t be able to see the grounds. There’s about three feet of snow out there. You’ll have to wait until summer to see the rest.”
“The bookstore!” I cried, sitting up. “I forgot about it.”
“It’s alright,” he said with a calm shake of his head. “I called Sarah and Harold and told them you were sick. They understand. Besides, with al
l this snow, no one’s going anywhere, anytime soon.”
I should have felt nervous or uneasy. I was in a strange man’s house. No one knew I was here. But I didn’t feel scared. I felt safe and protected.
“I can see why people think you breed lions,” I said motioning to the headboard.
“It’s the family name,” he said. “My family came from Russia. We were noblemen, lords, property owners. At one point some grandfather watched over thousands of serfs. My family were good lords, they looked after their people well. They protected them. But the revolution was a madness and my great-grandparents were forced to flee. We’ve lived in Williamstown ever since. I teach at the University of Maine, ancient Greek history. Although, at the moment, I’m on sabbatical.”
I nodded and reached for the glass of orange juice. I was terribly thirsty and my dry throat was crying for something to drink.
“Now is the point in the conversation where you tell me where you’re from. What your history is. How you ended up in that abandoned office building.”
“I just drift from place to place,” I said, avoiding his eyes. “I always have.”
“You’re lying,” he said. There was a long pause where he waited for me to speak, but my tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth. I couldn’t say anything. “You are too pretty to be a drifter. Your skin is clear and your teeth are perfect. You aren’t addicted to anything. I think something happened and you ran away. Will you tell me what it was?”
“It was nothing like that,” I said, my voice a quiet whisper. “I just ran out of money in this town.”
“And you didn’t have anyone you could call?” He asked.
I shook my head. Tears were forming in my eyes. I didn’t want to cry in front of this man. I already looked so weak in front of him. I couldn’t stand to fall any further.
