Out of This World

by Jill Shalvis

  That one of those things was wield a knife somehow didn’t make me feel much better.

  He and Marilee had gone oddly silent. I knew there was something really weird going on, but I was so fried, I couldn’t seem to summon the energy to get to the bottom of it.

  Kellan pressed me into a chair, Marilee handed me a plate and, before I knew it, I was stuffing my face. Unable to help myself, I glanced at the freezer, concentrated and saw right through the door to the boxes of Girl Scout Cookies.

  I think I had a miniorgasm.

  “Do you have any dessert?” I asked as casually as I could.

  “No, not yet, sorry,” Marilee said with apology. “But I’m going to bake brownies tonight.”

  Axel choked out a cough that sounded like “God help us,” and Marilee glared at him until he went back to being silent.

  “So you have nothing?” I said. “Not anything like, say, cookies?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  Damn it. I wanted to go to the freezer and whip it open, but I controlled myself—barely—promising myself a midnight sleepwalk to the freezer, and when I did, this time I wouldn’t hold back.

  I was going to eat them all.

  Every.

  Single.

  Last.

  One.

  “I was thinking of calling Dot,” I said to Kellan, “just to check in.” And to see if she could help us make some plans to get out of Crazy Town.

  Marilee shook her head. “Phones are down, too.”

  I pulled my cell out of my pocket. No reception. “I don’t suppose you have wireless Internet?”

  Both Marilee and Axel burst into laughter.

  “Yeah.” I sighed. “What about radio? We could call Jack and get him back here.”

  Marilee looked startled. “You want to leave early?”

  Axel shook his head. “Not going to happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “Jack never returns early.”

  “Oh,” I said, and suddenly felt extremely powerless. Hated that.

  Kellan put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “So there’s no way to communicate with the rest of the world?”

  “We’re self-contained,” Axel said. “That’s what Gert loved about this place.”

  Of course she had. Oh God, this felt bad. Very bad.

  “There must be some sort of evacuation plan in case of emergency,” Kel said with quiet calm.

  No sparks of temper, no kicking ass, not Kel. Just a cool, easy way that somehow soothed me.

  Odd, since I’d always been attracted to the wildly passionate, temperamental sort. But I was extremely grateful that it was Kel at my side, because he gave me something few others ever had.

  Security.

  How he did it under such pressure was a big mystery, but I wished whatever it was would rub off on me.

  “Oh, I can radio Jack,” Axel said. “But it has to be life-and-death for him to respond.”

  “So other than one of us dying, there’s really no way out?” I asked in a very small voice. “Because I thought this was the twenty-first century. How can we actually be stuck here?”

  Axel smiled. “Now see, that’s why they call this God’s country, boss. No one gets in and out of here but God.”

  Marilee and Axel exchanged another long look.

  And suddenly I wished I had gotten a lot closer to God over the years.

  Chapter 7

  A fter I realized how stuck here we really were, and that I wasn’t going to get any Girl Scout Cookies until I could sneak them myself, things sort of caught up with me.

  I was so tired that I had to prop my head up with my hand, my elbow on the table, and still I kept drifting off in the middle of eating my cheese and apples. I nearly snapped my neck while I was at it. I swear, my eyes just kept closing on me. The warm fire didn’t help, nor did the lack of bright overhead lights—cookies would have helped—and I closed my eyes while Marilee and Axel talked to Kellan about…

  The sexual healing powers of the mountain?

  Huh?

  I tuned into the conversation in time to hear Marilee say, “It’s true, there’s just something about this place. When people come here, they find a renewed spirit. It brings out the passion.”

  “Wild passion,” Axel said, sounding like he’d experienced this firsthand.

  “Sex?” Kellan said, sounding doubtful, clearly wanting to clarify. “You’re telling me your guests all get sex?”

  “Well,” Marilee started. “Not necessarily—”

  “Yes,” Axel said over her. “Seriously, dude. I think it’s in the water, dude.”

  I managed to concentrate, and by accident, I looked right through Axel. Damn, I could still do that. But his heart hadn’t picked up speed, nor his pulse, which I supposed meant he actually believed every word, that this place was truly some sort of…sexual healing zone.

  I drifted off for a moment, picturing that, getting sexually healed by…Kellan?

  Damn, the guy needed to get the hell out of my fantasies.

  “So,” Kellan said, sounding amused now. “You’re telling me what? That I’m going to have the sex of my life here?”

  Axel laughed. “Hey, dude, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

  In spite of myself and my interest in this topic, I drifted off again, dreaming about Kellan getting the sex of his life. With that girl he’d dated a few times at work, that cute little blonde, what’s-her-name—

  No. I didn’t like her. Too perky.

  I tried someone else. Maybe that actress on that TV show he had such a crush on.

  No, I didn’t like her either.

  Concentrate, I told myself. Concentrate on getting Kellan sex with…

  Me.

  I could see it so clearly, too: His long, rangy body towering over mine, him leaning in for a kiss as he sank into my body, taking us both to heaven and back—

  Whoa. But it was too late. The image stuck. And not only did it stick, it was…hot. My face heated. I sighed dreamily.

  And grinned stupidly.

  “Rach.” Kellan gently shook me. “Come on.”

  Come? Yeah, I think I could probably handle coming right about now…

  “Let’s get you changed,” he said. “And then—”

  “Yes?” I murmured hopefully, waking all the way up. “And then?” More coming?

  “Sleep.”

  Sleep. Right. Only problem? I think I was experiencing the sexual healing powers of the place already. My body was tingling from head to toe, and in all the good spots in between.

  And then came the thump that made us jump. It came from directly overhead, and I jerked upright. “What was that?”

  “What was what?” Marilee asked, careful not to meet my gaze.

  I looked at Axel, who shook his head.

  “You didn’t hear that?” I asked.

  “I did,” Kel said, and stood.

  Then the thump came again, louder this time.

  Kellan raised a brow. “Was that nothing, too?”

  Marilee looked at Axel. Axel looked back for one long beat before affecting a lazy smile. “Probably a raccoon.”

  “Doing what? Trying to sneak into one of the beds?” I asked.

  Marilee laughed. “Oh, you never know.” She pulled me out of my chair and nudged us toward the back door. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you go catch some shut-eye?”

  “I think we should look upstairs first,” Kellan said.

  “Oh, I’ll do that.” Axel opened the back door for us. It was pitch-black outside, and he handed us two flashlights.

  “You two just get some shut-eye,” Marilee said.

  “And maybe some of that healing,” Axel quipped, and shut the door.

  Silence reigned.

  Kellan looked at me.

  I looked at him.

  “They’re up to something,” I said.

  “Oh yeah.” He looked in the window. “They’re already gone. Want to—”

/>   “Oh, yeah.”

  And together, in mutual silence, we re-entered the kitchen.

  Empty.

  We moved to the hallway. Nothing. All around us, the B&B was dark, utterly silent.

  “Up?” I asked, gesturing to the stairs.

  “Definitely.”

  We tiptoed up the stairs, using the flashlights to cut through the dark, the beams piercing the blackness but not the silence. We kept bumping into each other in the dimly lit space. Apparently I wasn’t exhausted or freaked-out enough, because I felt distracted by the feel of Kel’s thigh brushing mine, his arm against my side. Distracted, and comforted, and…stirred up. I found that if I moved in closer, his arm brushed my breast instead.

  Until he realized, and shifted slightly away. Damn it. I wanted him to pull me against him again.

  And if he kissed me, I wouldn’t mind at all.

  And I really wanted to know why he smelled so good, even after all we’d been through today.

  At the top of the stairs, he stopped me. We stood side by side, barely breathing, as we listened. Well, Kellan listened. I admit, I just scooted closer in order to get another sniff of him.

  All four rooms on this floor were closed and, when we peeked in, empty. Same on the next floor up.

  Marilee and Axel had vanished into thin air.

  A little stunned, we made our way back to the kitchen, and stopped in shock.

  Marilee and Axel stood at the back door, looking out into the night.

  “Hey,” I said behind them, making them both jump, “where did you go?”

  They whipped around and stared at us. “Wondering where you two went,” Axel said. “Did you change your minds about sleeping at Gert’s place? Or about being together?”

  I felt Kellan glance at me, silently giving me the option to change the sleeping arrangements if I wanted. I knew Gertrude’s space had only one bedroom, but no way did I want to be out there alone.

  Nor did I have any desire to be upstairs, where mysterious thumps and bumps ruled the night. I wanted, quite frankly, to be in my own bed, with the traffic blaring in the window, and the smog and the city lights choking out the stars.

  But that wasn’t going to happen.

  God, I was tired, so tired. I knew we needed to press Axel and Marilee about the house, about the odd noises, but I couldn’t seem to garner the energy it would take to do that.

  “In the morning,” I said softly to Kel, who nodded his understanding.

  I looked at Axel. “He’s with me.”

  If Kellan was surprised at this news, he didn’t show it. He simply hefted our bags over his shoulder. Together we went out the back door and stepped into the black night. I wasn’t afraid of the dark like I was of heights, but it was close. I tried to always paint my murals low to the ground, and in those rare circumstances when I couldn’t, Prozac was my friend. I’d have been much, much happier if I’d managed to swipe a box of cookies from the freezer.

  Beside me, Kellan lifted his flashlight. The beam of light didn’t have a chance against the dark night. The air had chilled to a shocking suck-in-your-breath temperature. In L.A., summer nights never cooled down much. Here I could actually see my own breath when I exhaled.

  And it was August.

  There were all sorts of sounds out here. A distant howl of some sort that made me think of every horror movie Kellan had ever made me watch. The chirping song of too many crickets to count. A rustle in the bushes that might or might not have been a bear waiting to eat us in the same way I was waiting to eat those Girl Scout Cookies. I couldn’t bring myself to look, and I slipped my hand in Kel’s. He was too good a friend to comment on it. He just lightly squeezed my fingers.

  “I’ll make you breakfast in the morning,” Marilee called out after us.

  “Now why would you threaten them like that?” we heard Axel ask, and then came a smacking sound, as if Marilee had hit him upside the head.

  “Dudette,” Axel said mournfully, and then the door shut, leaving me alone with Kellan and the night.

  I stepped up the two tiny concrete steps to Gertrude’s door and took a deep breath, but I couldn’t make myself go in. You’d think after my little woods adventure, I’d be dying to go inside, but no.

  “Rach?”

  “Yeah.” I let out a heavy breath and opened the door. It creaked and revealed…more blackness.

  No ghosts. No goblins. No extraterrestrials.

  So why couldn’t I shake the odd sense of fear, or get the hair on the back of my neck to go down? “You want the couch or the bed?” I asked, my voice seeming extremely loud.

  He used his flashlight to look at the couch—a short, high-backed Victorian, green with tiny white flowers all over it, overstuffed and undoubtedly as comfortable as a bed of rocks. In silent agreement, we moved to the doorway of the tiny bedroom, and studied the bed there.

  It was covered with a prim rose comforter, sported a single pillow and was as narrow as a pencil.

  “Maybe we should have tried the guest rooms in the main house,” I said.

  “Complete with whatever goes bump in the night?”

  I let out a low, disbelieving laugh. “My God, Kellan. What I have gotten us into?”

  “Not sure. But I have a feeling we’re going to find out, whether we want to or not.”

  “Yeah.” I shook my head. “This place sucks bear balls.”

  He slid me an amused glance. “Bear balls?”

  I closed my tired, gritty eyes and pointed to the bed and then the couch. “Eenie, meenie, miney, mo—”

  “No, don’t. You’re taking the bed.” He dropped the duffle bags to the floor.

  “Why is that?”

  “Because out of the two of us, you’re the more freaked-out.”

  He had a point there. “Do you ever get freaked-out?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Just ask me to relive going into that clearing and finding you on the ground, eyes closed, face completely colorless, with your clothes still smoking. You shaved years off my life on that one.”

  He’d been scared for me. It was quite possibly the sweetest thing anyone had ever said. “Yeah, sorry.” My throat went tight. “And you don’t know the half of it.”

  He was watching me in that quiet way he had. “Why don’t you tell me.”

  I let out a laugh that sounded extremely close to hysterical, and clamped my hand over my mouth to stop it. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but you should probably be sitting down for this.”

  Instead, he pulled me closer and leveled his intensely blue gaze on mine. “Your head? Or something else?”

  “I have a headache,” I admitted. “But I think that’s just from the stress. Listen, I was serious about the sitting-down thing. Please sit.”

  He pulled me into the living room and sat both of us down on the couch, which was, yep, stiff as predicted. “Go,” he said.

  Yeah, only where to start? “Okay, something weird happened out there.”

  “You’re not kidding. We are definitely not in Kansas any more, Toto.”

  “Kel.” I put my hands on his arms and was immediately distracted by the tough sinew that made up his biceps. Yum.

  No, not yum. Stick to the topic, Rachel. “Here’s the thing. I can sorta see through stuff.”

  He blinked once, as slowly as an owl. “Okay.”

  “Like right now. I can see”—I gestured at his clothes—“through your clothes.”

  “Uh-huh. Rach, maybe you should lie down—”

  “You’re wearing plaid boxers. Size scrawny-ass thirty-two.”

  He blinked again. “Scrawny-ass?”

  “Is that the part of this that you want to talk about? Really?”

  He sighed. Scrubbed a big hand over his face. “Okay. So you can see through stuff.”

  “Yes.” Desperate to sound sane, I twisted my neck, looking for some way to prove it to him. “See that closed case in the corner?” I pointed to a tall antique cabinet, complete with brass knobs and a pretentiousness th
at made the thing stick out, here in the wilds. “Inside there’s…” I concentrated, looked through the wood, then gasped.

  “What?”

  I covered my mouth with my hand, which was suddenly shaking. “My God!”

  Kellan looked at me oddly, and then got up, walking toward the case.

  “Guns,” I whispered, horrified at the row of guns within the closed cabinet. “It’s filled with—”

  Kellan opened the door. “Holy shit.”

  Guns.

  I don’t know how long we both stared. Finally I stood, then walked toward the cabinet as well, reaching out a hand to touch the butt of a huge, wicked-looking rifle.

  “Holy shit,” Kel said again.

  “What are these for?”

  Kellan shook his head grimly. “I don’t know.” He shut the cabinet. “But I wish like hell I did.”

  I waited for the inevitable realization, which didn’t take longer than a beat, because as laid-back and easygoing as Kellan might be, he was not in any way slow or stupid.

  His eyes landed on mine, and held.

  I lifted a shoulder.

  “You saw through that cabinet,” he said.

  “I saw through the cabinet.”

  “And through my pants.”

  “Yeah, but if it helps, I didn’t mean to.” Much.

  He just stared at me.

  I tried not to look again, but he stood there, an intensely physical presence with something of an attitude—and boy, I was a sucker for attitude—in his faded Levi’s and that borrowed sweatshirt, which only hinted at the broad shoulders I could actually see.

  “What else?” he asked hoarsely.

  “Well, your sweatshirt—”

  “I meant, what else besides me can you see through, Rach?” he said in a low, rather frustrated-sounding voice.

  “Oh.” Right. “Uh, well…”

  “Rach.”

  “Everything.” I shrugged my shoulders helplessly. “I can see through everything.”

  “Do you see dead people, too?” he asked, trying to joke.

  I shook my head.

  And he nodded his, relieved. Then, in what was the nicest thing he could have done in that moment, he pulled me in for a hard hug. “This is fucking insane,” he whispered against my damp hair. “I’m not crazy about insane, Rach.”