I blink. Yeah. I get the hood now. Totally understand. Seeing his face without warning is like a punch to the gut, stealing all my breath away. Oh yeah. He’s got to wear that hood if only to keep hordes of lovestruck ladies from chasing after him.
I’m staring. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that I’m drooling, he’s that damn good looking. Maybe something positive came out of this weirdness after all. I wouldn’t mind getting to know this guy better.
I run my hand down the front of my rumpled nightgown, suddenly very aware that I’m a half-naked disaster.
A desperate gleam flashes in his eyes, his lips quirked upward in a crooked smile that makes him even sexier.
“Artemis?”
His soft question puts a damper on my raging hormones. I’m not so dazzled that I forgot my own damn name. “No.” Pointing to my chest, I tell him again, “Noelle.”
His smile wavers. “You really don’t know,” he says after a moment. “Not even a clue.” And he frowns.
The frown knocks some more sense into me. He looks so disappointed.
For some reason, I feel bad. It’s almost as if there’s something important that I’m missing here, something he’s expecting from me. Which is even weirder.
I think my adrenaline and his stunning good looks are messing with me. Time to go before I do something I’ll regret.
Like jumping him, for one. Bad idea. Tempting idea, yes, but very, very bad.
I bite down on my bottom lip, forcing myself to remember my three-day rule. It’s a good one. No matter how much I want to, I won’t sleep with anyone until I’ve known them at least three days and I can believe them when we have a safe sex chat pre-boning. It used to be three dates but, hey, a girl’s got needs.
This guy is really making me second-guess myself. A face like that, a god of a man with reflexes like a cat, and spot-on aim? Who sounds like my company is the only thing he’s ever wanted? My breath quickens and my knees go a little weak. I nibble my lip a little, seriously considering going with him and letting one thing lead to another.
I know it’s the adrenaline talking. Even considering seducing this guy—because, as much of a wreck as I am, I can tell he’d be totally open to it—is crazy. Actually hooking up with a stranger because I’m running high from the hunt and we’ve both just slaughtered impossible monsters is insane.
I mean, holy shit. The corpses are right there.
A shocky shiver courses through me. I let out a high-pitched, totally uncomfortable giggle, stepping away from the scorpion nearest to me.
Concern fills his soft voice. “Artemis?”
It’s a sudden reminder why letting my libido take the lead is such a bad idea. This giant, beautiful stranger could be a danger to more than my self control.
I scowl. My hands curl, then find their perch on my hips. If the irritated pose thrusts out my tits, well, that’s a plus. “Don’t call me that.”
“Sorry.”
“Whatever. Besides, you’re right. There’s a shit ton of things I don’t know.” I lift my hands and start ticking things off on my fingers. “Where I am. What the hell I’m doing here. What you’re doing here. Why you refuse to call me by my real name.”
When he opens his mouth as if to answer, I cut him off with a shake of my head. I shake some more lust off with the action. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not staying long enough for any of it to. So nice to meet you, it’s been fun, but I’ve got to be going. Dudley’s probably wondering what happened to me anyway.”
His lips thin. “Dudley?” he repeats, a faint grumble in his voice. “You’ve got a fella waitin’ for you?”
I start to nod—and then something stops me. “Dud’s my cat,” I confess, “and he’s probably peeing on everything I own at this exact moment because I disappeared without giving him his bedtime treats.”
He sniffs in disapproval. Or maybe that’s sympathy. Cat pee smells awful, like ammonia and vinegar mixed together. It’s really gross.
“Anyway, thanks again. You know. For saving me from that thing.”
“My pleasure, darlin’.”
He saved my life. That’s the only reason I don’t say anything when he calls me darling again. Instead, I wipe my face and tuck a loose strand of knotted hair behind my ear. When I realize there's a blade of grass tangled in there, I wipe my filthy hand on the skirt of my nightgown. It’s already a disaster. What’s one more stain?
I turn away from him, squinting into the trees. I know I have to go back that way. It’s how I got to the clearing in the first place after being chased through the woods. If I want to find that shimmering patch that shows me my room, I gotta backtrack.
Without wanting to, I think about the two scorpion corpses again. I really, really hope that that’s all of them.
“Where you goin’?”
Don’t turn around, I order myself. Keep on walking.
“I told you already. Home. You might not believe me, but there’s a…” Oh jeez. How to tell this stranger about the mirror and the fall and— “Okay, I don’t really know how to explain it—”
“A portal?” he offers. “A way back for you?”
Portal. A way back. He sounds so certain. That catches my attention.
I spin around, looking up at him, at the coy expression he's got on his far too handsome face. “Exactly.” Portal is the perfect word for the square-shaped thing I saw. “And I’m going to take it before anything else pops up in these woods. So…” I give him a wave. “Bye.”
“Hold on there. Stop. You can't do that.”
I take a step away from him, startled by his sudden vehemence. “Excuse me?”
The coy look fades into one of absolute determination. “I mean it. I can't let you do that.”
“You can’t stop me, either.”
I’m bluffing. Of course, I am. This guy is a foot and a half taller than me and outweighs me by at least a hundred pounds. Plus he’s just proved he’s really good with a knife. He can totally stop me if he wants to. But I won't make it easy for him. Sure, he’s hot. Doesn’t mean I’m okay with him telling me what to do.
“No, no, darlin’.” His voice gentles. I’m not buying it. “It's not like that. Just take a second to think.”
“Yeah, I'm thinking about getting out of here before I get attacked again. And stop calling me ‘darling’. I told you. I have a name.”
“Art—”
I scoff. “Not that one.”
“Noelle,” he corrects quickly. He’s learning. “You don’t understand. Those were children. Young children.”
I stop dead in my tracks. I can’t help it. My imagination takes those ugly scorpion things and magnifies them by ten. Children? If those were the kids, I hate to see what Mommy looks like.
“This is their territory. I’m lucky I found you when I did. And you should be grateful you’ve only attracted the two so far. More will be comin’, and more after that if they sense you lingerin’ nearby. You can’t risk it.”
“I have to.”
“It’s suicide,” he says in a flat voice. “Even now the nest is stirrin’. You can’t go back.”
“You don’t understand. I have to go back. I have to go home.”
He hesitates. I see it and I’m ready to pounce when he admits, “That’s not the only portal.”
Why didn’t he say so in the first place? Suspicion wars with relief that I don’t have to go back through the trees again. “Are you sure? How do you know?”
The look he gives me is piercing. I feel it go straight through me before settling deep in my bones. “How do you think? I came here myself, a long, long while ago.”
Oh. “Makes sense. Sorry.”
“We’re not the only ones, either. Portals spring up and disappear all the time. Sure, if you’re lucky, your portal might still be there, but it won’t stay for long. Is it worth venturin’ back into the scorpion’s nest to check? When there’s always another way out if you’re willin’ to work for it?”
I don’t want t
o believe him. It would be so much easier if I ran back, dove through the portal, and ended up in my room once more. Except I sense he’s telling me the truth. I don’t want to believe him—but, damn it, I do.
He flips his hood up. “I’ve a better idea. Instead of chancin’ another run-in with the scorpions, you come with me. Hear me out,” he says when it’s clear I’m about to argue. “You can’t stay here. But I know these woods. There’s gotta be a safer portal for you. I’ll help you find it.”
He has a point. Sure, I can stay in the forest and try my luck finding my portal. Considering I’m surrounded by two dead monster corpses, odds aren’t that great I’ll make it home without being attacked again.
And who knows if I could even find that portal thing a second time. I get lost in my own backyard—and that’s a one way alley! All these trees look the same to me. I’m kidding myself if I think it’ll be as easy as that.
Then again, I can trot off with a guy who looks like he belongs on the front cover of a survivalist’s magazine. Huh. I never would’ve guessed I’d be such a sucker for a Southern accent and some country charm. At least he put his hood back on. I so don’t need the distraction.
What the hell am I supposed to do?
Gripping my stick tighter, I take a step away and frown. At least I know what I’m getting into with the scorpions: certain death when my luck finally runs out. This hooded stranger, though, he seems determined that I go with him instead. It makes no sense. He must want something. Everyone wants something. But what?
I glance at my hands. The freaky glowing thing finally stopped. That’s good. Something tells me that he’ll chase after me like the giant scorpions did no matter what I decide. I might have a chance of getting away if I’m not shining like a flashlight out here.
I roll my shoulders experimentally. My aches and pains are fading, too. If I have to go another round with the scorpions, I think I can do it.
“Thanks,” I tell him with a tight smile, “but no thanks. Bye.”
His boot crunches on a brittle twig as he steps closer. The hood shadows his face and from the way he suddenly looms, I bet this guy is the type who doesn’t accept a ‘no’ that easily.
“My camp ain’t far from here. There’s water. You can wash up, if ya like.”
I don’t know whether to laugh, turn tail, or be offended that he’s noticed how much of a disaster I am.
I settle on a shrug. “I’m okay. A little scorpion blood never hurt no one.”
Right? Oh man. I hope it’s not poisoned or anything.
He slips closer, with measured steps that suggest he knows me bolting is very high on my list of options at the moment. The point of his chin drops as he lowers his gaze. Still stubborn, more persuasive. “A blanket, then? You must be gettin’ cold.”
I look down. My nipples are poking through my bra and nightgown. Of course, they are.
I decide to own it. “It’s a little nippy out. I’ll survive.”
He pauses and I can almost hear the gears working in his head.
“I’ve got food,” he offers.
As if on cue, my stomach grumbles. Ugh. Traitor.
I throw my hands up in the air. “Fine. Whatever. You win. Let’s go.”
I could be dirty. I could be cold. But a girl needs to eat.
7
“That stick,” the stranger asks a few minutes after we start off, “is there a reason you’re still holdin’ onto it? Or are you simply waitin’ for me to get fresh? I swear on my mama, I mean you no harm.”
We’re walking side by side because I refuse to trot behind him like a puppy. It takes a lot of effort since he’s basically a giant and I barely top five feet in shoes, but I’m nothing if not determined.
Besides, I’m pretty sure he’s shortening his stride to allow me to keep up.
Ever since we left that clearing, I’ve cradled my stick against my chest. It served me well against the scorpion and I’m ready to use it again if I have to. Despite his warnings, I haven’t seen a sign of any other threats. I refuse to forget that the biggest one might be the man walking next to me.
I don’t know him. I don’t know what he’s capable of. I don’t even know his name.
“It’s nothing against you personally,” I tell him. “It’s just that I’ve gotta be ready in case I’ve got to protect myself. You might not have noticed, but I don’t have shoes or a jacket or my phone.” I can't keep back my snort of utter disgust. “As if I’d get cell service here anyway. No. This stick is all I got. And I need to have something to protect myself with.”
He murmurs something under his breath that makes me think that he has definitely noticed my nightgown. Hard not to, and I doubt it means much to him. A guy who looks like he does must have seen way better than what I’ve got to offer.
Then again, who knows how long he’s been wandering around these woods, looking for a portal? He did say he arrived a long time ago. He could be desperate. And I haven’t seen any other people yet, either. Just me and him—and I’m half-naked already.
Motion catches my eye. He’s doing something under his cloak.
Are you kidding me?
I clutch my stick until the wood bites into my fingers. I’m not so worried about splinters. I want to know what the hell he’s doing under that cloak, moving his hand around at hip-height like that.
Before I can ask, I have my answer.
The stranger slips his hand out through the narrow opening where his cloak splits. He’s holding a knife, clasping the tip securely between two surprisingly slender fingers. Leaning down so that we’re closer in height, he offers the handle out to me.
“A knife might make you feel safer, darlin’. Here. It’ll work better than a bit of wood in a pinch, too.”
I recognize the knife. I last saw it buried to its hilt in a scorpion’s eye. He must’ve gone back for it when I attempted to get away.
I try not to notice the nasty slime that dried on the blade, or the inky blood that flecks the handle. Unlike me and my stick, he clearly didn’t take time to wipe it down. It’s utterly filthy.
“Take it,” he says, jerking the point of his chin at the knife. “It’s all yours.”
Dirt, schmirt. I snatch it out of his hand before he decides to change his mind.
“That’s very generous of you.” And stupid. I can do a lot more damage with a knife than a stick if I have to.
“So I’ve been told. I can afford to be. I have more than enough.”
Turning so that he’s facing me, he brushes aside the length of his cloak until he reveals his long, lean body dressed in a simple linen shirt and trouser set. The pants might have been brown. Or maybe dark green. I think the shirt is lighter. It’s not important enough to notice.
No, my eyes are glued to the leather belt wrapped snugly around his tapered waist—and the four matching hunting knives he’s tucked securely beneath it in a row. On his left side, a sword longer than my forearm hangs down past his knees. His cloak hid that, too.
I gulp and wrap my fingers tightly around the handle of my new knife. With all that weaponry, he should clank when he walks. At least then I would’ve been warned.
We need to work on his definition of far.
Considering he appeared out of nowhere before, I expect his camp to be close by. Nope. Not even close.
We walk for ages, still side by side. More than once I catch him watching me as if he’s waiting for me to start sprinting. Fat chance. Exhaustion weighs me down—it’s all I can do to put one foot in front of the other. My steps are careful. I don’t want to hurt my poor bare feet any more than I already have.
Besides, his legs are so long that he dwarfs me. Unless I have a head start or something slows him down, he’d be on me in seconds.
Hmm. You know what? That doesn’t sound half bad.
I give my head a clearing shake.
God, I need some sleep. And the food he promised. I’m starving.
I’m dragging, too. I can feel it. My arms are de
ad weights, hanging loosely at my side. My fingers are wrapped securely around the knife. I barely have the strength to lift it, though. I almost want to cry tears of joy when he assures me his camp is coming right up.
I know we’re close when I catch the scent of smoke on the air. Walking around a gnarled oak, careful to avoid the acorns scattered everywhere, I get my first glimpse of his campsite.
It’s, well, um… kind of shabby.
The camp is set up in a wide clearing about twice the size of the one where he found me with the dead scorpion. Tall, spindly trees stand guard all around us, their branches tangled and their trunks almost touching.
It’s a smart set-up, I’ll give him that. With the space, he leaves himself enough of a vantage point to see anyone—or anything—approaching. The narrow path leading up to the side makes it difficult for something like that giant scorpion to sneak up on him when he’s sleeping.
A lean-to tent is set up in the middle. It’s not very large, big enough to fit one person comfortably. The two of us would be a squeeze.
I shake my head. Nope. Three-day rule. I’m calling dibs. Bringing me here was his brilliant idea. He can sleep on the ground. At least he has a cloak. It’s more than I got.
My trusty guide leads me over to a flat tree stump on the edge of a ring of stones. It’s clear that a fire burned inside the makeshift pit earlier. All that’s left now is a pile of ash and a few stubborn embers.
Okay. That explains the smoke I smelled.
“Go on and sit here.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I flop onto the stump, wishing for a cushion, knowing I should be happy with what I have. I’m just glad that I can finally get off my feet. Not only does it feel like we walked a couple of miles through these woods, but I’ve already lived a whole day before stumbling through the mirror. I should be sleeping. My adrenaline is long gone. I’m pooped.
Propping my right ankle up on my left knee, I pick off the flaking mud that covers most of my foot. Though the sharp, stabbing pain from earlier has faded into a ginger sort of tenderness, I haven’t forgotten the throbbing heat along the instep of my foot when I first ran. If I’m cut, I need to wash it out before I welcome all sorts of infections.
Stalk the Moon Page 5