Invaded

by Jennifer M. Eaton

  “I have a surprise for you.” Sybil nudged her shoulder. “We’re not taking the movie site tour tomorrow.”

  Anna spun toward her. “We’re not?”

  “Nope. I changed our date to Monday.”

  “Why?”

  “Because tomorrow morning, you and your favorite sister are taking the plunge off Kawarau Bridge.”

  Anna nearly choked. “What?”

  “Yup. It’s all set up. They’re picking us up at our hotel at 8:30.”

  “Are you out of your mind? I am not bungee jumping!”

  “Yes, you are. It’s already bought and paid for. No refunds, no excuses.”

  No excuses? Anna had a great big gaping excuse. Even back home in the US she erred on the cautious side. She really didn’t have a choice.

  Eight years ago, she woke up after a car accident and found out she had a rare blood type. The hospital had to have plasma flown in from another state, and the delay almost killed her. Ever since, she’d been warned to take it easy and cautioned against foreign travel, but here she was, vacationing in New Zealand with a nutty sister who wanted them to plummet to their deaths tied to the ends of rubber bands.

  “There is no way I’m jumping off a bridge.”

  Sybil snickered as the cab pulled to a stop. “We’ll see.”

  Her sister paid the cabbie as Anna stepped onto worn, colorful cobblestones. The black sconces encircling the weathered rock buildings and the matching streetlamps flared to life simultaneously. Anna jumped as one of them blew out.

  “Surprise!” Sybil said.

  Anna looked up and down the deserted street. “Surprise what?”

  “Don’t you recognize it? This is the street they modeled Bree after.”

  Anna looked again. “It is?”

  “Yup. I found it on Wikipedia under little-known Lord of the Rings sites.” She narrowed her eyes. “One of these places is supposed to look just like the Prancing Pony inside.”

  Anna took in the gnarled, wooden signs. She could barely read the names on some of them. At the far end of the road, four men in long coats entered a bar with a carved rooster hanging above the door. It seemed warm for coats that long. Must be a Kiwi thing.

  Sybil grabbed Anna’s wrist and tugged her along the bumpy, colorful walkway toward a worn, timber door with wide, black hinges. “This place looks as good as any to start.”

  Anna pulled out of her grip. “To start? I agreed to one drink.”

  Sybil held her chest, feigning hurt. “Of course we’ll only have one drink.” She pulled Anna through the door. “Per bar.”

  Anna sighed. With Sybil, there was always a loophole.

  Inside, the tavern looked nothing like the Prancing Pony. It looked more like the bar in that old show Cheers that her father watched on Netflix. A circular bar dominated the center of the room. Its white-tiled surface clashed with the dark paneling. Flickering candles on cherrywood tables nestled against the wall cast a yellowish glow throughout the room. Inside the serving-circle, a dark-skinned man placed a glass into a huge wooden fixture hanging precariously over the bar.

  “Welcome, ladies. Please, have a seat.” He gestured across the nearly empty bar and the mostly open tables. So much for meeting the locals.

  Anna had to admit the tavern had its charm, though. The hotel bar had all the appeal of a meat market, while this place oozed culture.

  An old man wearing a multi-colored, patchwork shirt sat alone at the table closest to the door. His tunic matched the vibrant weavings hanging from the walls like he was a part of the decor.

  Combine him with the dead animal heads mounted above the entrance, and Anna felt as if she’d stepped back in time. If she could convince them to trash the plasma television screen, this place would be the perfect retreat.

  She and Sybil settled on stools at the bar and ordered drinks. From the opposite side of the serving circle, a very light-skinned platinum-blond guy flashed a smile. His eyes mirrored the overhead lighting, making everything about him seem paler, as if he were dusted in white powder. Anna quickly looked away. She settled her eyes on the Malibu Bay Breeze the barkeep handed her, forcing her gaze to remain there so she didn’t stare.

  “Is it always so quiet here?” Sybil asked the bartender.

  “You missed the happy hour crowd. People have been staying in after dusk the past few days.”

  Sybil frowned. “I guess we’ll have to come back earlier tomorrow.”

  Or not.

  Sybil had to notice that this wasn’t the Prancing Pony. Absorbing culture was fine and all, but Anna had her first taste of New Zealand on the car ride over here. She wanted to see more, not spend her time drinking.

  The bartender walked to the other side of the counter and spoke to the blond guy. After a moment, they both turned toward Anna. She nearly choked on her drink before she looked away.

  Her cheeks heated. The blond must have mentioned that she’d been staring at him. With skin that pale, he must have people stare at him all the time, and here she was, the gawking American, jumping on the bandwagon.

  Anna concentrated on the ice cubes in her glass, trying to not look like she was aware the two men were still chatting.

  About her? No, of course not.

  But what if they were?

  If she and Sybil had stayed at the hotel bar, like she’d wanted, she could’ve just caught the next elevator to her room and hid from all this awkwardness.

  She leaned toward her sister. “This obviously isn’t the right place. Maybe we should go.”

  “Come on, Sis. There’s more to sightseeing than movie locations. There’s a lot about the local culture I’d like to sample, too.” She spun her stool toward a table of three guys near the wall and sipped her drink through the thin, red stirring straw. Her lips turned up in a wry grin.

  Anna’s eyes widened. “You came all the way to New Zealand to get laid?”

  “Well, not only to get laid. But it’s on my to-do list.”

  “What’s wrong with the guys in New Jersey?”

  Sybil shrugged. “I might run into them again. I hate that. This will be more fun. No strings attached.” She smacked Anna playfully. “Not to mention New Zealand accents. Yum.”

  Anna shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

  “Me? And it’s not crazy to sit home every Saturday night?”

  Hanging out at home was a perfectly respectable thing to do on the weekend. She and Andrew…

  Anna cringed, closed her eyes, and refocused. There was no more she and Andrew. Not since she left for college. Not since she came home to surprise him on his birthday.

  College had become her life after that night. Classes and studying. Nothing more.

  Nothing more than lying awake at night, crying.

  She gritted her teeth. She was not that girl anymore. She didn’t need a guy, and she didn’t need to go out on the weekend to look for another shitfaced, lying bastard. Anna worked her tail off studying all week. She needed to decompress and relax on her days off. Alone.

  Anna cringed, then straightened. She didn’t want to be alone. Not really. But she wasn’t ready to get out there and date again. Andrew had been her world since middle school. She didn’t know how to be with anyone else.

  Sybil would never understand that. Her sister’s plan was to play the field and be married to her cushy corner executive office for the rest of her life. There was nothing wrong with that, for her. Anna wanted the best of both worlds—a family and a job. She wasn’t going to find that hooking up with a guy she’d never see again.

  “I don’t understand how you can even think of sleeping with a guy you’ve just met.” Anna sipped her drink and set it back on the bar.

  “Believe me. It’s a heck of a lot easier than getting tied down in a relationship. Guys get crazy when they hang around too long. They get all protective and…” The word cheat hung on the edge of her lips before she copped out by sipping her drink.

  Anna crumpled her napkin and threw in on the b
ar. “I don’t know, I think I still want what Mom and Dad had—the love of my life, job, and two point five kids?”

  “Point five?”

  “Yeah, my dog.” Anna watched the condensation drip down her glass. “Is it so wrong to want a guy that will do almost anything for me?”

  “You’re dreaming, little sister. He doesn’t exist. I gave up looking for him years ago.”

  But Dad existed. Could it be true that their generation hadn’t spawned any great guys?

  The bartender adjusted the volume on the television.

  A news reporter brushed back a lock of her dark hair and brought a microphone to her lips. “So there you have it. This small village, the third in as many nights, now lays in shock after this morning’s gruesome discovery. The identities of the women have not been made public yet, but NZN News has learned that two of the victims lived here in Wellington, and the third was a Norwegian tourist. Neighboring towns have called for a seven o’clock curfew tonight, as all of New Zealand prays for an end to this senseless killing spree.”

  “They were disemboweled, just like the last two,” one of the guys at the table said. “I saw it on the internet. This bloke is a sadist or something.”

  Last two? Holy crap! Were they anywhere near Wellington?

  The bartender changed the channel. “I hope they catch him soon.”

  “There be no one to catch,” the old guy in the colorful garb mumbled. “They look for a man. They need to turn their eyes to the sky. They seek what they are not prepared to find.”

  A shiver ran down Anna’s spine. The tavern was oddly reminiscent of an old horror flick, and this weathered, creepy guy was the trope old codger that knew the truth, but no one believed him until they were running for their lives. If he was about to say that all of New Zealand was haunted by ancient bloodthirsty spirits, she was so out of here.

  The guy at the other table turned in his seat. “What are you talking about, pop, some Maori legend?”

  The old man’s eyes darkened. “Is no legend. We in a Seventeen Year. They should not be looking for a man.”

  The table of guys laughed. “So what are they looking for, a dragon? I think you’ve had a few too many.”

  “Every seventeen years the dragons fly. They search New Zealand for mates.” He pointed to the television. “This be the work of a gray dragon, the worst of them all.”

  “Yeah, and Aoraki and his brothers got stranded on a reef and became the mountains.” One of the guys laughed into his beer.

  Anna took in the old man’s colorful attire, remembering the brochure Sybil read to her. It seemed crazy that people still believed that kind of folklore.

  The elder remained stoic. “How do you know they did not become the mountains, if you were not there?”

  Anna bit back her smile. The ominous cloud in the room lifted as the table of guys snickered. It was sad they made fun of the old man, though. He couldn’t help what he’d been brought up to believe, no matter how ridiculous.

  The bartender leaned across the counter toward her. “The bloke on the flipside would like to buy you a drink.”

  Anna cringed. The guy she’d been staring at? She glanced around the barkeep. Blondie smiled at her.

  “Umm, no thanks. Tell him no offense, I’m just passing through. I’m not going to be here that long.”

  Sybil elbowed her. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “He’s not my type.”

  “What, he doesn’t have a pulse?”

  “Shut up.”

  Someone settled beside her, and Anna tensed. She turned her head slowly until her gaze met eerie, light blue eyes and even lighter skin.

  Blondie smiled. “Hello, I’m sorry. I heard you turn down my drink. You’re not from around here, I suppose?” The New Zealand accent dripped from his pale lips. The package didn’t seem to fit together.

  “Um, no. We’re from New Jersey.”

  He tilted his head. “In England?”

  “No. New Jersey as in the United States.”

  His eyes widened. “Oh, that makes sense. You didn’t look or sound English. Anyway, in these parts, it’s customary for a man to buy a woman a drink to say hello. I was only being courteous. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  Sybil left her chair and sat on the other side of Blondie. She scribbled something on a napkin.

  Anna shifted her weight. “In America, a guy buys a girl a drink if he’s trying to pick her up.”

  “Pick her up?”

  “As in a date.”

  His eyes widened, showing more of the creepy glass-like pupils, which maybe, now that she looked closer, were eerily beautiful.

  “That would be a bit presumptuous of me, wouldn’t it?” he asked. “I don’t even know your name.”

  Sybil held up the napkin she’d been toiling over. It read:

  Platinum blond babies are beautiful

  Anna laughed. Well, no, it came out more like an embarrassing snort, but Blondie didn’t seem to notice, thank goodness.

  She offered him her hand. “My name is Anna.”

  Instead of shaking, he flipped her palm down and kissed her knuckles. Who in God’s name was this guy?

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Anna of the great continent of America. My name is Joesephutus.”

  She shuffled her feet, trying to ward off the odd tingle in her toes. “Wow, that’s quite a name. Do you mind if I just call you Joe?”

  His smiled seeped into her. “Only if you allow me to buy you that drink.”

  Sybil gave a thumbs up over his head, and then returned to her place beside Anna.

  Yeah, little sister Anna getting picked up in a bar would make Sybil’s day. Anna would never hear the end of it.

  As she gazed into Joe’s haunting, crystal eyes, though, she couldn’t help but want to know more about this interesting man. She’d gone from being completely freaked out about his appearance, to enthralled.

  Too bad 11,000 miles was too far for a long distance relationship. She needed to nip this in the bud before it went any further. “I’m sorry, but I’m really not interested.” An ache welled in her belly. She bit her lower lip to keep from retracting her words as Joe lowered his eyes.

  His lips thinned. “No problem. Enjoy your time in New Zealand.” He bowed his head and returned to his seat.

  Anna nearly stepped off her chair to stop him. After all, it was only a drink, and he seemed nice. Shoot, why couldn’t she be more like Sybil and okay with things like this?

  An elbow in the back returned her attention to her sister. “What’s wrong with you?” Sybil said. “He was cute.”

  “I don’t know.” And she didn’t. Anna’s stomach continued to whirl. Her skin ached, as if tugging her toward the other side of the bar, nudging her back to where Joe slipped into his seat and cradled his drink between his palms.

  He’d been sweet and didn’t come on too strong like the asses in bars back home. The poor guy was probably just shy, and she’d totally turned him down.

  Sybil was right, what was wrong with her?

  A cool breeze whipped in when someone opened the door. Anna was glad for the touch of chill as she turned toward her sister.

  “Holy hell,” Sybil whispered, her gaze fused to the entrance.

  A man walked, no—slid through the entrance, but not in a slimy, snake-like way. It was more like gliding across the surface of a pond. He towered over everyone, well over six feet. Stopping in the center of the room, he placed his hand on his chest and bowed to the old man, who straightened, beaming.

  The newcomer turned back to the bar, and Anna’s heart triple beat as his gaze brushed over her. His long, dark hair shifted slightly as he walked, coming close to falling over one eye, but not quite covering it. Anna had seen this man before, on the cover of hundreds of romance novels. He seemed painted; perfect, as if molded by an artist. She quivered, warming in all the most embarrassing places.

  He smiled at Anna, before turning his attention to Sybil. As soon as h
is gaze left hers, a sweep of relief flooded Anna, as if she’d been held by something, but then let go.

  Sybil blanched, her eyes wide as the stranger slipped his fingers over hers.

  “Please forgive my forwardness.” He kissed the back of her hand, just like Joe had. “But you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He leaned up, still holding her fingers. “You must allow me the honor of your company.”

  His gaze darted over the bar, where Joe leaned back on his stool with a dumbfounded look on his face. The hot guy smiled before returning his attention to Anna’s sister.

  Sybil blinked as if waking from a stupor. “Of course, please, sit.”

  The man eased onto the seat beside them, his gaze never leaving Sybil’s. How was it that no matter where they were in the world, her sister managed to be a beacon for beefcake? It wasn’t fair. Well, not like Anna wanted to be eaten alive by a guy’s eyes, but damn, did her sister wear come and take me perfume or something?

  “I’m Sybil. This is my sister, Anna.”

  He lowered his head. “Miss Anna, a flower equally as lovely.”

  Sure, but you went for the one that looked and dressed like a runway model. Hot guys never went for the plain ones. Not that she wanted him to leech onto her, but, you know.

  “My name is Quenor.” He kissed Sybil’s knuckles again, this time hesitating as his lips touched her skin.

  Sybil cleared her throat. “Quay-noor? You mean, like, Connor?”

  His eyes bored into her like he hadn’t eaten in a month and she was a hot fudge sundae. “Connor sounds lovely with your accent.”

  Wow, his own accent sang from his lips. Anna could listen to his voice forever. She had to tear her eyes away from him. Taking a deep breath, she placed her chilled glass to her temple to try to cool herself down. She definitely needed to get a grip.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” the bartender asked Connor.

  “Whatever the lovely Sybil is having is fine for me.”

  Their gazes remained locked. Sybil seemed tongue-tied.

  Icy fingers itched up Anna’s back. Something wasn’t quite right about this guy. There was hot, and then there was too hot. And then there was Connor. The attraction Anna felt when he looked at her, the attraction she still felt, even when he’d obviously chosen Sybil, bordered on hypnotic.