The house was eerily quiet, but it felt strangely alive. Trailing a finger along the old wallpaper, she jerked reflexively when a tingle coursed up her arm. Although it wasn’t unpleasant, it seemed like the house was trying to communicate with her. Despite the overwhelming strangeness, she liked the building. It lent her a sense of safety like her apartment once had.
She glanced at Alena, noting the softness of her hair and the way her body filled out the casual clothes. She forced her attention away. She had more important things than the attractive curve of Alena’s ass to consider. What would the other occupants of the house think of her? Would they all be like Elliott, dismissive and uncaring? Or would they be like Alena, intense and oddly comforting?
Voices flowed from a back room, getting louder as she got closer. Each one sounded female. Eden stopped just behind Alena, staring in confused interest at the scene before her. Five girls sat around a table, each of varying ages and looks, although two were plainly twins. The table’s occupants were eating sandwiches and sliced vegetables and arguing about something when Alena and Eden entered. But the food and the girls didn’t surprise Eden. She stared at the plate hovering mid-air in fascination. She’d grown up hearing tales about mage abilities, but she never saw them in person. Using magic in public wasn't legal in the Eastern Territory.
Alena cleared her throat, and the plate dropped to the center of the table, knocking over a glass of water. The liquid splashed all over one of the girls; she cursed and glared at the others before standing and stomping from the room. Mascara trailed in black rivers down her pretty face. She looked at Eden as she passed but said nothing. The remaining girls looked innocently at Alena, and she sensed a discussion happening in the space between them although no one spoke aloud. Finally, the youngest girl bounced away from the table and cleaned the spill with a towel. That seemed to break the trance. Alena sighed heavily, as if this was a daily occurrence, and rubbed at her temples with her fingertips.
“Everyone, this is Eden. She’ll be staying with us for a while.”
Eden didn’t bother to point out that she hadn’t agreed to stay with them for any length of time. Alena pointed to and named each girl, and Eden attempted to commit the names to memory. The younger girls nodded or smiled in greeting, all except the young woman with the blank face at the end of the table. She didn’t even acknowledge their presence. The littlest one, Kathy, continued to bounce in her seat. Eden thought she might have been in her early teens, but she acted younger.
“What do you think of the house?” Kathy asked. The way she said house sent another tingle through Eden’s phantom arm.
“I don’t know,” Eden replied, unable to ignore the girl’s innocent question. Thankfully, she was saved from further discussion by someone exiting the kitchen to the left. She was nearly a foot shorter than Eden and almost as wide as she was tall. Her eyes were huge, brown, and round, and her dark hair formed an intricate braid. She wore a pristine apron over a plain, outdated brown dress. There was something otherworldly about her, not unlike the strange dog.
“This is for you,” she told Eden, handing her a paper bag. “It’s food. You need to eat and rest. I’ve prepared the blue room.” She said the last directly to Alena and bustled away. Eden held the paper bag in front of her, wondering if her face reflected her confusion. Alena stepped away from Eden’s side, and the youngest girl’s face changed.
“Ooooh.”
Eden shifted uncomfortably as the room’s eyes went to her arm. Even the woman who hadn’t looked up since she’d entered stared. She was frantic when she left the apartment and hadn't pulled on a jacket. The stump of her right arm was visible under the short-sleeved tee she was wearing. She was used to everyone noticing her arm, but experience suggested that only the kids were bold enough to say anything.
“Did that hurt?” Kathy’s voice was so sincere it almost brought tears to Eden’s eyes. It wasn’t the typical question. Kids wanted to know how it happened or what she could and couldn’t do. One had been quite concerned about whether she could ride a bike. Eden didn’t have the heart to tell him she’d never ridden a bike; they weren’t ordinary playthings for poor mundane children.
“Yes,” Eden replied, clearing her throat. “It hurt a lot.”
Kathy nodded, her blue eyes huge. The others seemed embarrassed, except for Mac, the young woman who hadn’t said a word. She stared thoughtfully at Eden from under a fringe of dyed, overgrown hair. Her eyes were as intense as Alena’s, although they were a stormy gray instead of green. So much sadness haunted their depths; Eden knew the girl had experienced worse trauma than her. Alena led her out of the room.
“Sorry about that,” Alena murmured.
“About what? Kathy’s honesty or just the general craziness?”
Alena stopped and their eyes met. The mage was shorter than Eden, but she seemed taller because her presence was so strong. Eden was intensely aware of how close they stood; the other woman smelled of roses. She had heard of energy and auras around mages. Alena’s magic must be powerful, because Eden swore it hummed in the air between them, like a living being. Alena searched Eden’s face, and Eden waited patiently, even though the proximity to the other woman was causing her to tingle in different ways than the house had.
“The general craziness.” Alena paused. “How did it happen?” She stepped forward again, and Eden followed.
“Car accident; I was seventeen.”
They stepped over Elliott’s form. His lips curled in annoyance although he didn't acknowledge their presence. “I’m certain you’re perfectly capable, but if you need help with anything, please let me know.”
Eden nodded. She appreciated it when people didn’t assume she needed help, but sometimes she did need help and pride often prevented her from asking for it. Her life had been modified so she could do almost everything, but there were still a couple things she could never do without help. She’d had six years to realize her limitations, and, thankfully, they were few. It could have been much worse.
On the second floor, the house’s age was more visible. The window panes were ancient; looking through them was like being underwater. The casings had been resealed, but it might be drafty in the winter. The floors weren’t smoothly polished like they were downstairs. Instead, several mismatched rugs ran the length of the hallway, and Eden found the effect charming. The long, simple corridor was lined with doors on each side.
Alena pointed into one open room as they passed. Eden saw towering bookshelves, overflowing with books that looked both ancient and modern. She noted the fireplace with fascination; only the old houses still used traditional forms of heating their homes. It was unlit currently, but the room would be cozy and comforting when the fire was roaring. She’d always enjoyed a live fire.
“That was the library.” The next door sported a fancy lock and a gold nameplate. Alena pointed at the door with a smirk on her face that hid an inner meaning. “This is Alec’s office; he manages the accounts and more detailed operations of the house. It’s off limits at all times unless he invites you in.”
Eden swallowed hard. Was Alec a techie? Accounting was mid-level techie work. That made no sense to her. That he was a male made her a little uncomfortable. She had almost gotten used to the idea of sharing a house with a bunch of other women and the non-threatening Elliott. Alena sensed her tension.
“Alec is a nice guy. You’ll meet him soon.” Eden nodded but didn’t fail to note the undercurrent in Alena’s voice which suggested Alena and Alec were more than just friends. She refused to acknowledge her disappointment at the idea.
“Bette, the housekeeper, put you in the blue room,” Alena continued as they headed toward the end of the hall.
“How did Bette know I was coming?” Eden asked, remembering the older woman’s strange actions.
“Bette knows things,” Alena said with a shrug; Eden felt it was a fact and not a sarcastic remark.
The last door on the left at the end of the hall had a bluebell p
ainted on it. Alena pushed open the door, and Eden stepped inside. It was a beautiful room, lit by two large windows with lacy white curtains. The furniture appeared to be as old as the house. Eden had never seen a four-poster bed before, but she had read about them. There was an upright armoire, a dresser, and a quaint rocking chair next to one window. The walls were covered in soft blue wallpaper with etched, tiny, white flowers. A pale shade of blue decorated everything.
The quilt on the bed looked like it was handmade, and Eden resisted the urge to touch it to test her assumption. Eden thought the room might have been overwhelming if it wasn’t cute in its thematic tones. The room was impeccably clean — very different from her messy and plain studio apartment. Another door led to a modern, private bath tiled in blue. Though the house was old, there was a richness to the furnishings that Eden usually attributed to techies.
“I’ll leave you to settle in,” Alena said from behind her, and Eden jumped. She had forgotten the other woman was there. “If you need me, my bedroom is down the hall; it’s the green room.”
Eden waited for Alena to pull the door shut behind her. She stood in the middle of the room, questioning the events of the last two days. The threat from the dream man seemed less dangerous in the house - like he couldn’t reach her here, either in dreams or otherwise. The low-level hum she’d been experiencing since she arrived increased when she stepped forward and trailed her fingers along the wallpaper lining the exterior walls. It traveled up her fingers and then her arm, resting in the center of her chest.
The buzz seemed to settle restlessly in her necklace. It had been warming since they’d turned onto the lane and was now almost unbearably hot. She frowned at it, pulling it away from her chest to study the design. It was just a moonstone set in silver, simple and understated. She always wore it; her mother gifted it to her, and it was difficult to take off with one hand. At times, she thought it reacted strangely, but the sensation always faded quickly as if erased from her memory. She had noticed its presence more in the past couple of days than she had in the last couple of years. She dropped it again, wondering if it was reacting to the magic in the house, but it didn’t seem important enough to dwell on.
Remembering Izzy, she dug out her phone and left a message when her friend didn’t answer. Izzy would freak out if she didn’t hear from Eden for several days, especially after the break-in. Eden told her the police were putting her in a protection program, and it was better they sever communications until they knew what was going on. After she’d hung up, she stared at the phone in her hand; tears threatened to fall on the plastic. She didn’t like lying to her best friend, but Izzy would be safer if she didn't know the truth.
Eden trailed her fingers along the quilt on the bed and stood in front of a window that overlooked a thick grove of trees. The trees seemed to beckon her. The longer she stared, the more she wanted to explore them. Months had passed since she'd gone to the mountains for a hike. Her trips were always in secret, too. Mundanes didn’t just travel through the woods; it was more of a mage habit. The pull of the trees eventually became unbearable. She debated, gnawing on her lip.
Her stomach growled and reminded her of the bag she still held. She smiled. Two half sandwiches wrapped in cloth napkins waited for her, smelling divine. The techies recently favored reusable plastic zipper bags, and she found them impossible to open. Bette appeared to know things, or she preferred to stay away from plastic because it was a techie creation.
Eden slipped out of the blue room and tiptoed down the hallway. She couldn’t say why she tiptoed, but she preferred to not encounter anyone. Admitting that the trees called to her made her sound crazy. As she crept down the hall, memories resurfaced of sneaking out of the house before her accident. Her adoptive father was usually passed out on the couch or in his room, sleeping off the overwhelming depression that had plagued him as long as Eden lived with him.
She stepped silently down the now empty stairs, relieved to see Elliott had disappeared, and opened the door. She was halfway across the side yard when she realized she didn't have shoes. She debated going back, but the trees were insistent. If she strained, she imagined she could hear voices. Munching on a sandwich while she walked, she moaned in pleasure. Bette made chicken and bread taste amazing, and the bread appeared homemade.
The towering canopy was sheltering her before she realized she had arrived. The undergrowth was easy to navigate, surprisingly uncluttered for an old-growth forest. How she knew it was old-growth, she couldn’t have said, but the description felt correct. She wove her way through the trees, avoiding the occasional felled tree or stand of brambles. The leaves were just changing color, and she lifted her head to enjoy the sunlight filtering through the green and red leaves. There was enough of a breeze to rattle the branches, and the sound was soothing. Like the house, the grove of trees imbued her with a calm she hadn’t experienced since her dreams changed. Her nocturnal hauntings could almost be forgotten in the dappled, pale light of the forest.
A fallen tree served as an uncomfortable chair. Eden sat and inhaled the forest scents, stuffing her empty paper bag into her pocket. Leaning back on the log, she let the sun filtering through the open, sparse branches to warm her face. A shiver on her neck warned her she was being watched. Her heart rate returned to normal when she spotted the black dog sitting a couple feet away. He lay down in the leaves and grass, his massive head on his front paws.
“You’re not just a dog, are you?” Eden asked. His intelligent eyes gleamed, and she imagined he might laugh at her if he could. Her memory revived fairy tales of mages who could shift into animals or communicate with them. As a child, she dismissed it all as fantasy or something she would never have to deal with as a dud.
The image of the word written on her apartment wall repeatedly crept into her consciousness, damning and completely unexpected. She was now in the presence of real mages. Alena was a mage, and, although she didn’t think Zar was a shifter, he wasn’t a typical dog. She was sure the mages in the house possessed far more daunting abilities than just floating plates.
The house was a mage house, something she’d never thought to see. In the Eastern Territory, mages were few, and she had stumbled into a nest of them. She mulled over the information while the massive dog watched her.
“But,” she said aloud, looking at Zar, “nothing explains why I’m here. I’m not a mage. I don’t have a single drop of magic in my blood. If I did, I would have been registered and sent to the Western Territory as a child. This magic has nothing to do with me; I am just a woman with one arm and bad dreams.” The dog's ear twitched, but he made no other motion to indicate he understood her words. The stress and lack of sleep caught up with her, and she rested her back against the tree and closed her eyes.
***
When Eden awoke, the sun’s light was dimming. She stretched sore back and butt muscles. The day had been exhausting and strange, but she hadn’t enjoyed such a dreamless, peaceful sleep in a long time. The shadows were lengthening, casting eerie shapes through the trees. Zar still waited, watching her with eyes that glowed in the lower light. She smiled at him, fanciful after the refreshing nap under the trees.
“Can you show me the way back to the house?” Eden felt like an idiot for asking directions from a dog. Still, she wasn’t surprised when he rose and trotted in the general direction of the house. She might have lost her way if he hadn’t; the trees seemed thicker in the deepening twilight.
She glimpsed the house looming through the trees when a sound grabbed her attention. Turning toward it curiously, she froze beneath the edge of the trees, transfixed by the sight before her.
An attractive man chopped wood at the back corner of the house; he was shirtless despite the evening chill. Sweat glistened on bunching muscles as he raised the ax over his head and brought it down, flawlessly splitting the log before him.
Eden stared for a moment, wondering if she’d walked into a poorly written romance novel. First, she drooled over Alena’s a
ss; now, this man’s muscles were causing her core to heat and grow wet with longing. Izzy was right; she needed to get laid. Eden was still gawking, most likely with her mouth wide open, when he lifted his head and looked at her. Confusion crossed his features for a second and then he smiled, stealing the air from her lungs. His face was as attractive as his chiseled chest and abs.
“You must be Edania.” His voice was deep, and it increased the flutter in her stomach. Eden cleared her throat, attempting to find her voice and not act like a horny teenager. She couldn't force anything out, though; her cheeks merely flushed at the attempt. The man released the ax and approached, his lips tilting at the sight of her leaf littered, dirty socks. “Alena was wondering where you’d gone. Did you enjoy the forest?”
“Yes,” Eden stammered, finding her voice. She remembered to turn so her arm wasn’t visible, and her blush deepened. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had such an effect on her that she felt the need to hide her imperfection. An indefinable emotion flickered across his face before he tugged his discarded t-shirt on. The lightweight material just clung to his muscles, though, defining them even more. He wasn't overly muscular, only lean and firm. Eden found it beautiful.
“I’m Alec.”
Eden’s eyes widened. This was the accountant? He didn’t look like a techie accountant. Her gaze flicked to the pile of wood he was splitting. It was clear he did more around the house than just bookkeeping. She breathed a silent sigh of relief when he didn’t initiate a handshake. That was always an awkward moment when she tried to counteract the gesture by shaking with her left hand.
“I was just going back to the house,” she mumbled.
“Dinner will start soon. It was nice to meet you.”
Eden paused awkwardly. The house was the other way, but to get to it, she would have to turn and expose her stump to him. Cursing her weakness, she sucked in a deep breath and spun toward the house. She didn’t look at him as she walked away, not wanting to see the disappointment on his face. It would mirror the disillusionment she’d seen on every other man’s face for the last six years. They always thought she was pretty until they saw her arm. Some were even interested after that, and while she liked that about them, they never knew how to treat her. They didn’t know if they should talk about it or not talk about it, help her or not help her, and a few even used her to inflate their ego - what a nice guy they were for dating a cripple.
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