by Juniper Hart
“So, you’re really sure it’s a boy, hm?”
“As sure as I am that the sky is blue,” Esme yawned.
Olive smiled lazily at the thought, trying to picture the two of them with a little boy in tow. She couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled from underneath the surface. “Poor little guy,” she commented aloud.
“What are you going to name him?” The question caught Olive off guard.
“You know, I really don’t know. I mean, of course I’ve thought about names, but… none have stuck or felt right.” She could feel Esme analyzing her from behind her almost cartoonishly large sunglasses.
“I could see you having a son named…” Esme’s gaze intensified. “Theodore. Teddy for short.”
Olive’s nose crinkled at the name. “I don’t think so. He doesn’t feel like a Theodore.”
“George?”
“No.”
“Franklin.”
Olive laughed. “Are you just going down a list of presidential names?”
Esme smirked and shrugged. “I see great things in his future.” Olive’s grin spread from ear to ear. How was Esme so darn witty? She always knew how to make her smile. “Seriously, though, that little booger needs a name.”
Olive propped herself up on her elbows and glanced over to her friend. “Okay, I’ll call out some names and you tell me how you feel about them.”
“I’ll hurt your feelings if you say something like Braxley or Bentley.”
“Noted,” Olive chuckled. “Okay, uhm… Owen?”
“Eh.”
“Gray?”
“Does he feel gray to you?”
Olive rolled her eyes. “Hayden?”
“So he can be with all the Aidens, Braydens, and Jaidens in his classes?”
This proceeded for a while in a light-hearted manner before Olive grew silent to really think about a name. Then, it dawned on her. It gave a tug at her heart in a bittersweet way, yet it felt so right. “You may think it’s a little boring, but… what about Henry?”
This actually gave Esme pause. She sat up all the way and took in her friend fully. “That seems perfect.” They stared at each other, realizing they had just named Olive’s son. Esme gave an excited squeal before diving for her friend, tossing her arms about her neck. “Oh, Olive, I’m so happy for you!”
“Thank you,” she weakly replied.
“Don’t forget Esme is a unisex name,” her friend whispered to her before peeling away. “You know, in case you struggle with a middle name.”
Giving a laugh, Olive relaxed back again as she rubbed her stomach. It was strange to think that he had a name now. Of course, his sex hadn’t been confirmed, but for some reason, Olive was seriously taking Esme’s word for it. Henry really did feel perfect, though Olive would have to take the fact that Henry was Asher’s middle name to her grave. Esme would have a fit if she knew.
After all the excitement over the name, they were no longer content with lounging and wanted to go get something to eat. Packing up all their belongings, they made a quick detour to the car before finally joining the crowds along the boardwalk. Despite the all-day snacking, Olive was absolutely famished. The smell of all the delectable foods made her stomach growl and the little one toss about restlessly. Being at the coast, she so longed for seafood but knew that it was advised that she stay away from it.
They walked around for a while before finally deciding on a small café with sandwiches and burgers. They both opted for the veggie burger with a mound of fries. As they waited, the two of them sat in comfortable silence, allowing their minds to wander in peace.
“Where do you think we’ll go when Henry gets here?” Esme questioned from across the table, dragging Olive out of her own thoughts.
Clearing her throat and tilting her head to the side, Olive shrugged. “You know, I’m not sure. I know I want to kind of settle down when he comes. The best we can. Somewhere quiet and reserved.”
Esme nodded. “Sounds about right. Well, if we moved out west, we wouldn’t really have to worry about moving around so much.”
Olive had known that for quite some time. They had been staying on the east coast for the time being because of the plethora of jobs; and, if Olive was honest with herself, because she wasn’t entirely ready to let go of her past. “Maybe we should start heading out there soon. No telling when little guy will come.”
“He still has some time baking in the oven, I’m sure.”
Close to seven months pregnant, there was only a short amount of time left—and for some reason, Olive had the strong feeling that she would not go to full term. She inwardly sighed, wishing that she knew more about Asher’s people at that point so she knew what to do and what to expect from having a, well, special child.
“I suppose we’ll see about that,” she replied with a weak smile.
“I’m thinking maybe the Midwest. No one would think to look out there. Even if they did, where would they even begin? There is basically nothing out that way,” Esme chuckled. “Imagine it: you, me, and Henry in a little cozy house. Maybe I’ll get a fulltime bartending gig in whatever shitty little bar is in the town we stay in.”
Olive smiled at the idea and nodded. “I guess I could keep babysitting, since I’ll have to watch after Henry, too.” It felt so strange yet so right to actually address the baby by a name. The two of them would certainly be thrown a curveball if the baby turned out to be a girl. What would they name her? Asking Esme would get the sarcastic remark of “Henrietta.”
“You know, your life doesn’t have to stop because you have a baby. I mean you do have a degree, you know?”
Olive sighed. “Well, there’s not much you can do with a Bachelor’s in English. I would have to go to grad school, and that just—”
“Don’t you dare say it isn’t possible,” Esme interjected before reaching across the patio table to grab Olive’s hands in hers. “Anything you want is going to be possible, okay? It may take time and some sacrifices, but we will get through it together and make it happen.”
Tears misted Olive’s eyes, beyond touched by the devotion her friend was giving her. Without Esme, everything would have been so different. She would have been so lost without her.
“What would I do without you?” she smiled, bringing a hand back and wiping her eyes.
“Crash and burn, baby, crash and burn,” Esme winked with a massive grin. Even though nothing about their entire situation was ideal, for the first time, Olive was truly hopeful for the future.
6
“Why are you so nervous?” Olive giggled, reaching across to hold Asher’s hands in hers.
Asher, though, pulled away, biting his own lip. They had spent all day together, and for the entirety of it, he had been working up the courage to come clean. Now that the moment had arrived, he was scared shitless. There wasn’t an atom in his entire being that doubted she was his one—she was—but what if this was something that would be too much for her? What would his life be like without her, if he scared her off? How could it even process in a mortal’s mind?
“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he murmured, not even having the courage to look her in the eye.
Olive’s warm, soft hands grabbed his face and forced him to look at her. Her enchanting olive eyes pierced right through his. The silliness and playful demeanor had left her face, replaced by a look of concern while the ghost of a smile remained. “Talk to me, Ash.”
“It’s just…” The words caught in his throat. He found himself studying her, as if it were going to be the last time he ever saw her. The light freckles that were sprinkled right under her eyes and across her nose, the perfect bow in her lip, the slope of her adorable little nose. He was in awe of her just like when he had first met her. Just as he choked on an excuse, a lie to tell her to smooth the entire situation over, Asher knew that he respected her far too much to do that. Olive deserved the truth, the full truth, so that she could make the decision for herself.
Closing his eyes for a moment t
o gather his spinning thoughts, he took a deep breath and clutched her hands that still rested on his face to keep her close. “Olive… I haven’t been entirely honest about who I am.”
A small crease formed between her brows as they knitted together in confusion. “What do you mean?” Olive looked back at the massive estate his family called home. “Let me guess; you’re actually just the cleaning boy who plays house when the residents aren’t home?”
A weak smile tugged at Asher’s lips, loving her sense of humor, but he shook his head nonetheless. “No, sadly this is my actual home,” he sighed. “It’s a matter of how we got it.”
Olive’s face dropped then. Asher already knew what was running through her mind. His family was an elite group of mobsters who killed their way to the top, with scenes of eighties mafia movies running through her mind. That wouldn’t be all that far from the truth. “What do you mean?”
Standing from the patio furniture, he aggressively combed through his curls with his fingers. “You’re not going to believe me…”
A soothing hand coursed down his chest. “Try me.”
He searched around for words to explain but came up short every time he even began to piece a sentence together. It would all sound made up or as if he were on heavy drugs. “I’m not what I appear to be,” he mustered together.
“Oh?”
Asher nodded. “I’m not twenty-five, either.”
The puzzled look returned to Olive’s face. He was incriminating himself rather than bringing to light what he needed to. Growing more and more frustrated with himself, he paced away from her. He needed some space to keep his fear of scaring her, along with his irritation with the English language, under control.
“Asher…” He held up a hand, warning her to stay away. He wasn’t going to be able to find the words, he was starting to realize that.
“To hell with it,” he murmured and began unbuttoning his shirt before tossing it to the side as he kicked off his shoes.
A nervous giggle sounded from Olive. “Are you trying to seduce me? This is a weird way of doing it, hon.”
Not a word was said as Asher continued to strip. Once he was fully naked, he faced her, holding up a hand to signal her to stay in place while he paced back several feet. Then, he did it. His bones slid into place, and his wings expanded, his scales shimmering in the subdued lighting. He didn’t even notice until it was completely done that he was squeezing his eyes tightly shut, petrified to see the look on her face.
Then, Asher felt Olive’s familiar hand on his snout. Slowly, he lifted his lids to see her standing on her tiptoes before him. Her eyes were as round and large as dinner plates, a mixture of amazement and fear dancing around in them. Olive didn’t say a word, merely letting her fingertips brush across his scales. Touching him was making it real, he could see that. She realized she wasn’t dreaming.
The world is a much darker and more mystical place than you know, my love, he thought to himself as he watched her with pained eyes. He knew that at any moment, she would bolt or screech with fright. She didn’t, though. Olive circled him, her fingertips tracing the shape of his wings and the horns of his spine. Shivers ran through him. He felt her pick up his tail, to which he very playfully and gently swung at her with it. She gasped and looked toward his face. Her fear melted into a strange smile.
Once she rounded back to his front, Asher morphed back into his human form, standing before her, vulnerable and silent. Her eyes inspected his skin and continued to touch him as if for the first time. Her silence was killing him, and Asher pleaded with her mentally to say something, anything.
“S… so… your whole family…?”
He nodded. “We’re… royalty, I guess. There’s a whole community of my kind that we see over.”
Olive’s eyes faltered back down to his bare chest, still inspecting him. “Is… is this why you can’t have kids with me?” There was a blush on her cheeks, knowing that it was too soon to speak of children. Asher’s infertility had already been a topic of conversation, however, since there was no need for birth control.
“In a sense,” he muttered. That would be a story for another day. There was no need to tell her witches were real, too. Olive blinked rapidly as she nodded, her mind trying to wrap around it all. Finally, her beautiful eyes returned to his.
“Well, you were right. I wouldn’t have believed you. It’s certainly… well, unbelievable and weird…” Asher held his breath, waiting for her to say it was too much. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you, though.”
Relief ran through him, and his arms wrapped around her, nuzzling her neck. He wanted to weep tears of joy, but he held it back. “I love you, Olive,” he breathed.
“I love you too, Asher. So much.”
Then they shared an emotional and passionate kiss. The intensity of the evening was electrified in it. Asher didn’t dare make any moves until Olive did, her tongue pressing past his lips to deepen the kiss. Soon enough, he was lowering her carefully to the ground, covering every inch of visible skin in wet, feverish kisses. Never in all his years had he felt so accepted and consumed with love.
“Ash. ASH.”
Asher was jolted awake, his heart pounding. Where was he? His senses desperately tried to communicate with one another, taking in his surroundings one little thing at a time. He was in a hotel room. Sebastian was standing above him, looking down with urgency and concern.
“Wh… what?” he muttered, desperately rubbing his eyes.
“We need to get going. The scent was picked up.”
That was all it took for Asher to leap out of bed. He didn’t even allow himself to process what that meant before he was pulling on a pair of briefs and a button-down.
“Let’s go,” he grumbled, picking up his bag and snagging his phone. Before he even realized what he was doing, Asher was checking his phone for notifications from Olive. A hot dagger of pain shot through him. There wouldn’t be any; there never would be again. The dream had brought him back to another time, a time of pure joy. In his state of exhaustion, he had forgotten that had been nearly a year ago.
It felt like he was losing her all over again. Dreams like that always did. Thankfully for him, he was caught in another whirlwind at the same time. The woman was nearby, and she would be in their grasp soon enough.
“Let me drive,” Asher demanded, opening his hand for the keys. Bash eyed him curiously, seeing as how Asher rarely drove, but tossed him the keys anyway. He needed his mind focused, and being the ride-along would give him space to spiral.
He drove sporadically, following every direction Sebastian told him. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Bash was holding onto the safety bar above the window, but Asher really couldn’t care less. They drove directly to a coastal town not too far away and parked near the boardwalk where Collin had instructed them to meet. As Asher stepped out of the car, he took a deep inhale yet again. Saltwater, corndogs, and funnel cakes. No earth-shattering smell. His eyes narrowed, peering around as he and his brother made his way through the shopping centers and food carts. God, there were so many people there, how were they ever going to find her, even if they did smell her?
It dawned on him how weird that was. They were acting as bloodhounds, searching for a criminal or missing person. Still, he continued to take in deep breaths, trying to catch even a faint whiff of the ominous aroma. He and Sebastian waded through the sea of people, keeping an eye out for Collin and the others as they did. Everyone had been called to the sight, since the woman had to be somewhere near. They were going to catch her; they were going to. Asher had to believe it.
Just as they passed by a shell art store, Asher stopped dead in his tracks. There it was: the smell. It was… it was like… There wasn’t a way to describe it. The best he could compare it to was earl grey tea and blood, being both earthy and organic in scent. He immediately turned toward the store, looking around as if he could spot where the smell was coming from. He wandered around, catching an even bigge
r whiff of it. Once he had the scent, he followed its trail. He ran through the store and out the exit, uncaring that he was nudging people out of his way. The smell grew stronger and stronger, and there was another feeling within Asher that he couldn’t place because of how entrapped he was by the aroma. Whatever it was, it was magnetizing him further in the direction he was going. He told himself it was intuition and drive.
Then, as he reached the parking lot of the boardwalk, near where he and Bash had parked, the trail was gone. Asher stood dumbfounded, looking all around for cars speeding away. Getting in a car could be the only explanation of how the smell could just… vanish. The parking lot was so full, he couldn’t spot any suspicious cars.
His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. She was gone.
7
Once they finished gorging themselves on veggie burgers and fries, Esme and Olive strolled around the boardwalk, checking out nearly every shop and kiosk. Despite being utterly stuffed, Olive couldn’t resist getting an Italian ice from a small, vintage cart outside of a tourist shop. She picked at it casually as they shopped about, though they hadn’t bought anything. Olive was already mentally taking inventory of everything they had purchased that day and how much they would have left outside of her little nest of money. Their afternoon was more of a window-shopping extravaganza than anything else, which Olive was content with.
A bout of laughter erupted from Esme as she pointed out a store, which apparently exclusively sold shell art. “We have to go look around,” she insisted, taking Olive’s hand and practically dragging her into the shop.
All the shelves and tables were completely full of shells, the art itself ranging from very touristy—like shell magnets with names hand-painted on them and lanyards bedazzled with so many tiny shells that the fabric couldn’t be seen—to obscure. There were what looked like picture frames entirely made of shells, with no glass or backboard to actually hold a picture. Chandeliers and mobiles hung low from the ceiling. Statues and pottery littered the place, all of which were insanely overpriced. Olive had to hand it to the store owner, though; everything was unique. Not one item looked like the next.
