by Lola StVil
He comes toward me. I don’t think he’s human but he’s not scary like the creature. His presence feels different. Comforting. As he reaches me, the adrenaline rush I used to stand leaves my body all at once and my knees give way. He catches me before I fall and scoops me up into his arms. I mumble something about killing him if he tries something. He laughs. His laugh is big, warm, nice. I wish I could see his face, but everything is cloudy.
“The woman…” I mumble as I fight to keep my eyes open.
“She’s dead. Rest,” he orders with certainty.
“You…pulled the tree from…then picked up…creature…what are you?” I mumble.
He doesn’t reply. He just keeps taking long, large strides across the forest. A thought occurs to me as I give into the heavy darkness; I giggle to myself. It must be the blood loss.
“What’s so funny Wonder Woman?”
“You’re warm and you smell good,” I mumble fighting to stay awake.
I giggle again and he just looks at me.
“You’re a vampire.” I mutter, now completely delirious.
“Do I look pasty and cold?” he snaps. “I’m a God.”
I jolt up, sucking in a big breath and looking around me. Where the hell am I? I’m sitting in an incredibly soft bed, one that would put the Holiday Inn to shame. I look down, surprised to see I’m wearing only a large football jersey that practically swallows me whole.
Where are my clothes?
I glance around but don’t see them, and nothing about the room I’m in is familiar. There are no pictures, no dressers, and to be honest, nothing that looks like it came from this century. Just the bed, Loki, and my pounding headache.
“Come here, buddy,” I say to Loki, patting the bed beside me.
“Where are we, boy?”
He jumps up and licks my face excitedly and wags his tail as I wrap my arms around him and give him a squeeze. He isn’t exactly full of answers though. It’s up to me to work out what the hell is going on. I look around and try to take in where I am.
Wooden walls surround me, the kind of walls you see in cabins people stay in when they want a getaway in the woods. I have a bad feeling about this place. It has that deep-in-the-woods-where-nobody-can-hear-me-scream vibe. Muted sunlight peeks through a small window over the bed.
A cabin in the middle of...where exactly?
And then it all hits me. A woman with silver hair and an awful creature that came out of some sort of tear in the atmosphere. A portal of some kind. To another realm? Who knows? Me, jumping in like an idiot to save her and failing miserably, getting my chest ripped open. I look down. If what happened in the forest really did happen, I should be dead. Or at the very least severely injured, and yet I feel no pain. My hand moves to the spot where the massive claws raked me. I find nothing but smooth skin.
Did any of it really happen? The evidence on my chest suggests otherwise, yet here I am in a cabin who knows where. Did I trip and knock myself out and have some sort of dream? But if that’s the case, why am I here and not on the ground somewhere in the forest?
Loki gives a little bark, pulling me out of my thoughts. Well, at least I didn’t lose my dog. I just lost my mind.
Fantastic.
“Well, Loki, this sure ain’t Kansas anymore,” I say with a laugh.
It amuses me more than Loki. He just looks up at me with his tongue hanging out.
I get up slowly. I might not feel anything where that big hole in my chest was, but I can definitely remember how that damn hole felt. I know that was real dammit.
I remember the way the claws felt cutting through my flesh. I remember the way the blood soaked my clothes. I remember how the cold invaded my body, and I remember how I felt when I realized this was it: how the terror flooded my body. I wasn’t afraid for me but for my dad. He already lost everything once, and he brought me here to get away from it. If I’d died in those woods, there’s no way he could have forgiven himself.
My chest tightens as a lump forms in my throat. I swallow hard, trying to push the lump away. Now is hardly the time for celebrating getting out of there. I remember the figure who came and finished off the creature, how his presence relaxed me. But that means little if he’s holding me prisoner out here in the middle of who knows where.
“I’m not completely out of the woods yet, boy.”
I smile at my pun. Loki jumps down from the bed and watches me, but he makes no move to follow me as I cross the room, hoping the door isn’t locked.
“Stay here, I’m gonna check it out,” I whisper.
Loki lies down and curls up in a ball. Clearly, he had no intention of leaving the spot to begin with.
“Really? You’re not even gonna try to talk me out of looking around by myself? I could be in danger you know,” I scold.
In response, he yawns and licks his lips. I shake my head and place my hand on the doorknob.
“Wish me luck, buddy,” I whisper as I venture out into the hallway.
I’m on the second floor of the most impressive home I have ever seen. I take back my original thought about the middle of nowhere death cabin. This is a freaking palace. It’s a modern log-and-stone home with cathedral ceilings. An open floor plan home with glass walls on the outside and rustic, romantic accents inside. I walk down to the ground floor and look around. There’s no sign of life and still no sign of my clothes.
“They’re not ready yet,” a voice says from behind me.
I nearly jump out of my skin as I turn to face the person who just entered the room. Standing in front of me is a guy who is simply too hot to be real. There’s no other way to put it.
He’s six three and has warm blond hair. It’s slightly long and messy, the kind of messy that’s sexy as hell and dares you not to run your hands through it. Whoever created the stars and sculpted the heavens took time to carve his face—that’s the only way it could be so damn perfect. Then there’s the rest of him.
Damn.
His tight and taut body makes me regret every slice of pizza I’ve ever eaten. His solid washboard stomach and pecs add to his already stellar physique. But what threatens to steal all the air in my lungs isn’t his gorgeous hair or his perfect body. It’s his haunting and turbulent blue-gray eyes.
Sailor, get ahold of yourself. This is the guy that just kidnapped you. Maybe. He did save your life though. This could be like a Beauty and the beast tale.
Did I just find my prince?
“Huh?” I grunt.
Real smooth, Sailor.
“Your clothes, they’re not ready yet. Still in the dryer,” he adds, pointing over his shoulder.
It’s only then that I hear the familiar sound of a laundry room. He steps toward me and I scoot back. My bare heels hit the wall behind me.
“Stay back!”
His hands go up, an amused look on his face.
“I’m not going to hurt you. In case you forgot, I am the one who saved your ass last night.”
“So… So, it was real? All of it?” He meets my eyes and nods. “The woman and that thing that came out of the portal?”
He nods again.
My mind is racing. It was real. It was all real. Clutching my chest, I think I might be sick.
“What happened to the woman? Who the hell are you? Why am I here, and what the hell was that thing if it really was there? And, if it was real, why am I still alive?”
The questions come out before I have a chance to even take a breath. I’m not used to the company of insanely hot guys in a strange place, in strange clothes, and I have definitely never been through whatever that was last night.
“I’m not the explanation guy; can’t help you,” he says casually as he walks past me, looking me up and down on his way by with a smirk.
His scent is just as incredible as him. Not musky like men’s cologne, but clean like fresh linen and that sweet smell of freshly cut grass in the middle of summer. Aside from looking and smelling good, his manners are something else entirely.
His legs are long, much longer than mine, so I feel like I am racing just to catch up with him physically, and mentally, I am miles behind.
“Not my job. That’s tasked to someone else. They’ll be here soon,” he says, not slowing down.
We weave past what looks like an elaborate entertainment room, complete with a pool table and big screen. Leather La-Z-Boys are scattered around the room, some with dimples and creases like they’ve been sat in for long hours. There are bookshelves and paintings, and there’s even a small piano sitting in a corner. As we enter one hallway, I catch a glimpse of a room, where an unmade bed sits against a wall of windows, and I gulp.
Is this his room? Shaking my head, I manage to slide ahead of him and slow him down.
“I don’t want to wait. You better tell me what is happening or I’ll…”
I trail off. I have no idea what I’ll do. I stand my ground though, crossing my arms and planting myself in front of him.
“Or you’ll what? You’ll over power me, Wonder Woman?”
That look of amusement is back and it pisses me off to no end. I don’t know who exactly his thinks he is, but I’m not just going to accept his word as law.
“I’ll do whatever the hell I have to,” I reply, not breaking eye contact. “You don’t scare me.”
“Oh really?”
His eyes grow dark, his smile fading, and my breath catches as he leans in close. His smell is too intoxicating. My head is swimming in it. After a brief moment of uncertainty, he straightens back up and laughs.
Great. He just called my bluff. And I did nothing except gaze up at him like some starstruck idiot.
“Look, Wonder Woman, I already told you before, I’m not the Q&A guy, okay? All the stuff you want to know—and yeah, I guess you deserve to know—will be discussed with you by someone else. That’s not what I do.”
“Oh. So, what do you do?”
“Kill.”
“Very funny,” I toss back, but he’s not laughing and neither am I.
He doesn’t reply, he just raises an eyebrow as if to signal that he is serious. I swallow hard and panic floods through me.
“Loki! Come on, boy, let’s get out of here,” I shout.
Loki, probably sensing my panic, comes rushing down the stairs. I grab his collar and we bolt for the nearest door. It doesn’t open, so I rush to another, passing a fireplace. An iron poker catches my attention and I grab it. Who knows, I might need it to defend myself. This time, as I turn the knob, the door doesn’t resist and we run out into the soft rain.
The sexy stranger follows us. He’s no longer smiling, which sends a ripple of fear down my spine, I have absolutely no idea where I am or which way I should go.
I spin around, swinging the poker wildly. I just want him to go away so I can think for a moment. I don’t expect the poker to hit him, but it makes contact with his head. Blood ripples from his temple and flows down his cheek.
Now I’ve done it.
In one quick motion, he rips the poker out of my hand and tosses it to the ground. Bringing his shirt to his face, he wipes away the wet blood where I had hit him and there’s nothing there. Not a spot where an open wound should be. He’s healed, completely, in seconds.
“What the hell…what are you?” I ask in utter disbelief.
Loki sits on my feet, whimpering.
“I told you, I’m a god. Now can we go back inside? I’m freezing my balls off out here.”
“Gods have balls?”
“I have a lot of things,” he says suggestively.
“Okay, that’s gross,” I reply, pretending I didn’t feel a rush at the thought.
We stare at each other. I fold my arms across my chest. I know he can carry me back to the house like I weigh nothing. But he doesn’t. He sighs deeply and puts his hands at his sides.
“Okay, Wonder Woman, you get to ask one question. If I answer it, we go back in the house. Deal?”
“Yeah. If I like your answer,” I reply.
I shift uncomfortably. The rain is cold and I am just standing outside in it wearing this awful jersey. Suddenly self-conscious, I realize the thing is almost see-through now that it’s soaked by the rain. Going back inside sounds pretty damn good right now, but I can’t just give in. I can’t let him think that I will just obey him.
He rolls his gorgeous eyes and whispers, “Humans.”
I have a slew of questions I want to ask. But when I look over his shoulder, only one question comes to mind.
“Did the cabin just disappear?”
There’s just a clearing where the two-story crazy house stood moments ago. If I make it out of this alive, I might check myself into a mental institution.
“Yes. If you agree to come with me, I will make it appear again,” he says, waving his hands mystically through the air.
Great, add Houdini to the growing list of this guy’s occupations.
“You’re not a serial killer, right?” I ask.
“It’s complicated.” He shrugs.
How can it be complicated? Either he’s a serial killer or he isn’t. His answer does nothing to calm the nerves inside of me.
“Wait, what?” I shout.
“Yeah, I know—more questions. Can we do this inside?”
“Fine, but if you are a serial killer, my dad’s gonna hunt you down and make key chains with your Houdini-god balls.”
He laughs. That catches me by surprise. It also catches him off guard.
“I mean it—especially now that I know you have a pair,” I add, accidentally looking down before I can stop myself.
“Deal,” he says.
He gestures toward where the cabin was and it reappears.
He turns and walks toward it, giving a low whistle. Loki jumps off my feet and chases after the guy.
I see where your loyalties lie, Loki. I’ll remember that next time I buy your chewie.
I’m reluctant to follow, but a deal is a deal. If he can make a house disappear and reappear, what could he do to me? So, I go back into the cabin, hair dripping, jersey soaked, and my teeth chattering.
He gets me a towel and brings me my jeans, fresh and warm from the dryer and smelling like lavender and cotton.
“I threw away your shirt. I hope you weren’t too fond of it, but I didn’t think you’d want to wear it with the massive hole and bloodstains. Here, you can wear this for now. At least you will be dry and warm.”
He hands me a fitted long-sleeve shirt, but unlike the jersey, it’s definitely a woman’s shirt.
“Whose shirt is this?” I ask, failing to sound casual.
One minute I am threatening the dude and the next I am jealous of a phantom girl’s spare shirt.
“It belongs to Grace.”
I hate Grace the minute her name crosses his lips. What? You don’t even know Grace! Argh!
“Who’s Grace, your girlfriend?”
I can’t hide the acid in my voice. Damn this stranger and the effect he has on me.
“No.”
“Okay, and where is this Grace? Wait, you didn’t kill her, did you?”
“No, I didn’t. She was in her room. She should be out soon—she’s in Paris checking on a few things.”
“She’s in her room but she’s also in Paris? Let me guess, she has a portal in her room?” I joke.
“Good guess, but no, she is the portal. She has the ability to create portals to other places. That and speed. She can run faster than well…anything or anyone. Like I said, I am not the one to answer your questions. Sorry.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, that makes total sense.”
Totally going to the looney bin. Maybe I am already dead. Oh god.
“Am I dead?”
“I would hope not,” he says with a
laugh.
I can’t breathe all of a sudden. Everything is just pressing down on me, and I feel like someone is sitting on my chest and the floor reminds me of those sit and spin teacups at the fair. Has it always been spinning?
He studies me.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, deeply concerned.
“This is all…”
I shake my head but don’t say anything else. What could I say to explain any of this?
I blink and the spinning stops. Isn’t this what I’ve always wanted? To land in the middle of something that feels like one of my books? It’s why I didn’t want to leave New York, and here it is happening, right here in Tiny Town, and I’m reacting like those stereotypical chosen one characters I’ve always hated. It’s time to swallow down all of the panic and just roll with it.
“Look, I’m also not the ‘cheer you up’ guy. That’s Melody’s role. She’s good at that shit. She’ll hold your hand and all that crap. I’m more of—”
“Yeah, I know. You’re the ‘kill’ guy,” I reply, smiling despite myself.
“Yeah.” He shrugs, like being the kill guy is normal.
“Fine, where can I go change?”
“Down the hall. Now, can I ask you a question?” he says.
“I guess.”
“Why isn’t this whole thing freaking you out?” he says, studying me.
“It is. Trust me.”
“Yeah, but not like it should be.”
His eyes narrow on me, questions swimming in their depths. Even when they were hardened earlier, there was a softness to them. A kindness. I must be concealing my panic on the outside well, because on the inside I feel like the floor could fall out from under me at any second. Except, deep down, I don’t. I’ve always felt like this kind of thing would happen to me. My dad used to say I had an overactive imagination when I would tell him about the adventures I’d find myself in in my head. But maybe I didn’t. I was just preparing myself for whatever this is.
“I guess I’ve seen things far worse than what I saw today,” I say.
I’m not about to start babbling about how I’ve always hoped something like this would happen to me. I mean, this could turn out to be a be-careful-what-you-wish-for kind of thing yet.
