Love and Other Wild Things

by Molly Harper

  Her poor Grandad. He’d always worried so much about her safety when she traveled overseas. He’d assumed she would be safe on American soil. She was so sorry she was leaving him. She hoped maybe Jillian could persuade the League to pay him some part of Dani’s contract fee. Poor Trudy, being left holding the bag on all that debt. And Zed . . .

  Suddenly, the stained-glass window exploded in shards of color as a huge brown bear leaped through the casing. The break allowed light from a nearby streetlight, just enough for Dani to see the bear knocking over the “Reading is FunDamental ” book display and the audiobook racks. The weight against her back instantly relented. The bear roared, its fangs gleaming even in the low light of the room. Dani would have covered her ears with her hands if she’d had the muscle control to do so. After a few ragged breaths, sound rushed back into her ears like the returning tide.

  The bear cantered past her, nudging her lightly with its nose before giving chase to the person running across the library. The bear knocked several bookshelves down in its pursuit, growling and snarling for all he was worth. Struggling to sit up, Dani heard a door slam and—if she wasn’t mistaken—smack into a bear skull. The bear howled in frustration . . . and pain, probably.

  Dani rubbed at her throat and coughed, wishing for a glass of water like she used to wish for her Gramma’s apple butter. The bear cantered towards her, whuffling as he sniffed at her. He flopped his considerable weight down next to her and curved his paws around her body, pulling her toward him. She had to assume this was Zed. She didn’t know of any other bears that would want to rescue and/or cuddle her.

  Dani was finally able to focus on the sheer ridiculousness of a freaking bear cuddling her like she was a comfort toy. Holy hell, his head was the size of a car engine. She ran her fingers over his velvety nose, which prompted more sniffing. She gave a watery laugh, stroking the fur between his eyes.

  “Okay,” she sighed, rewarding him with a scratch behind the ears. “I’m okay.”

  The bear grumbled, nosing at her neck. His breathing evened out and Dani relaxed against him, taking the moment to appreciate being held by a creature of such immense size and strength. In this form, Zed could break her by sneezing too hard, and yet, he was curved around her like a wall of furry protection, like he needed her more than sleep or food or air. And it was nice, being wanted that much, to know she meant so much to Zed. If relationships could just be this, minus the fangs and fur, she might not run from them like they were emotional lava.

  The bear, for a lack of a better term, melted away, easing back into Zed’s human shape. His very naked human shape, which was cuddling her. “You sure you’re okay? I probably should have gone after her, but it was a choice between her and checking on you . . . and my instincts were to stay with you.”

  “It was a she?” Dani asked, her voice gravelly.

  “Definitely,” Zed told her, sitting up and pulling Dani into his lap. “And she smelled weird. Did you notice that she smelled weird?”

  Dani nodded. “I was a little more focused on drained, but yeah, she definitely smelled weird. Like industrial air-freshener. I’ve smelled something like it before, but I can’t think of where or when.”

  Zed nuzzled her neck. Dani wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you, for saving me. I’m probably going to get pissed off later and insist that I could have taken care of this myself, but thank you.”

  “Any time. I know you’re a strong, independent person, but it really pisses me off when people try to strangle girls I like.”

  “Reasonable,” she told him, patting his bare chest. “Not that I’m complaining, but where are your pants?”

  “I may have shredded them running toward the library when I heard you scream.”

  “How did you hear me scream?” Dani asked.

  “I may have been waiting outside to make sure you get home safe.”

  Zed walked to the light switch and illuminated the room, which was in shambles. Shelves were listing to all sides, as if a confused tornado had run through, their contents piled haphazardly on the floor. Tables were broken and chairs splintered. Also, Zed was naked, which was always a spectacle.

  Zed huffed. “Aw, man. Miss Bardie’s gonna be pissed.”

  Miss Bardie was, indeed, quite pissed. Her already thin mouth was pinched into a very sour line as she handed Zed an envelope marked with the official Mystic Bayou Library seal, banning him permanently from the library. She did however, give Dani a bookmark woven from solid gold, set with peacock ore as an apology for leaving her locked in the library.

  “I became very ill after my dinner at the pie shop,” Bardie told her. “I’m sorry to say that I didn’t have the presence of mind to send someone for you. I wouldn’t have sent Zed, of course, but still. I should have sent someone. You have a dragon in your debt, Dani.”

  “Thank you, Miss Bardie.”

  “Zed, on the other hand, is in debt to a dragon, because I’m making him replace every single item he broke in his heroics.”

  “That seems fair,” said Dani.

  After answering a lot of questions for Bael, and signing a lot of release forms from Jillian, Dani came home, Bardie’s bookmark heavy in her pocket, to find Zed packing up his tools. The porch had been swept free of debris and Dani was now the proud renter of a closet-sized wooden cubicle with a nice sturdy door. She assumed the shower was still inside somewhere.

  “So is this monumental work of carpentry finally finished?” she asked.

  Zed grinned at her. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve been patient with me.”

  “Well, you did incur a massive debt to a dragon to save my ass, so I guess I can’t get too upset with you. I might just have to break something, so you have to come running right back.”

  “You wouldn’t have to break anything.”

  “That’s good to know,” she said, shrugging out of her green t-shirt, revealing a bra imprinted with little blue llamas.

  “Okay, as much as I appreciate the display. What’s with all the llamas?” he asked.

  “Llamas are my spirit animal.”

  Zed shook his head. “She said as if that was a completely normal thing to tell someone.”

  “Llamas work hard. They’re curious. They carry burdens that other people can’t carry themselves. They can adapt easily to new situations, and yet, they can occasionally be very stubborn. Does that sound like anyone you know?”

  “I want to say no, but I’m a dude who becomes a bear when the mood strikes me, so I’m willing to keep an open mind,” he said.

  Dani opened the door to the shower stall and found a cozy space that offered a bit more room than the original shower footprint had. She even had a dome light overhead. She turned the water on, waited for it to warm as it ran over her outstretched hand. “So, my shower is fixed.”

  Zed scratched the back of his neck. “Technically, it was fixed a while ago. It just didn’t have any walls around it.”

  “Well, how do I know it works?” she asked.

  “I can’t guarantee it will stand another hundred years, but it will at least last through the fall.”

  Dani slid his t-shirt over his head. “I think I’m going to have to try it out.”

  She tucked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans and pulled him closer. He stopped her, putting his hand on her shoulders. “This isn’t some gratitude thing, is it? Because I saved you?”

  “No, this is an ‘I enjoy having sex with you’ thing. You’re a nice person and an amazing partner.”

  “Thank you, that’s true,” he agreed.

  She laughed. “That’s very diplomatic of you. I know I’m not giving as much as you’re hoping for. I’m just not used to relationships.”

  “What are you used to?”

  Dani shrugged. “Casual stuff. You know, you have sex, you both put your clothes on, say thanks and part ways. No meals, or romantic motorcycle rides or kissing under the spirit bottles on my front porch. I haven’t had a steady boyfriend since college. I�
��m not good at being open with someone I’m having sex with, the thought of starting that here, particularly with someone who has a pretty heavy influence on whether I’m welcome here in town or not, really freaked me out. And I sort of shrugged you off.”

  “I wouldn’t ever do anything to keep you from being welcome in town,” he insisted. “Well, unless you threw a TV through my bathroom window and then, yeah, people might judge you a little, but I wouldn’t do anything to rile people against you. I’m not a creep.”

  She held up her finger as if raising a point in court. “That is oddly specific.”

  “Long story, and a big reason I prefer baths.”

  “I know you’re not a creep,” she told him. “The problem here is that I don’t want to hurt you. In a few months, I’m going to move on to the next job and I don’t want things to be sad or weird between us. And I thought maybe going back to treating you like an acquaintance instead of someone who’s O-face I’m pretty desperate to see would make things easier. But I was wrong. And I’m sorry.”

  “Why do you assume I’m going to be the one who’s upset?

  Dani pursed her lips. “Oh, honey.”

  “Okay, fine,” Zed grumbled.

  “I’m still not ready to date you. I feel I should make that clear.”

  “I am willing to meet you half-way,” Zed said solemnly.

  “Again, very diplomatic.”

  “Always accept romance advice from dragons,” he murmured against her mouth, making her giggle. She pulled at the button of his jeans, popping it open and shimmying them down his hips, revealing a sharp vee of muscle. Dani grinned at him, pushing the jeans down his thighs.

  “And then, when we’re done here, I’m going to take you upstairs, where I happen to have a bed that hangs from the ceiling.”

  Zed’s expression went from hopeful to distinctly uncomfortable. “Um, I happen to know that Bael and Jillian spent quality time together in that bed. They put a new mattress on it before Jillian moved out, but …”

  Dani pursed her lips, thinking of the series of perfectly straight scrapes on the plaster, parallel to the frame of the bed. “That explains those marks on the walls.”

  “Yes, it does. I mean, I want to be close to my friends, but not that close.”

  “Well, then we’re just going to have to content ourselves with multiple rounds in the shower.” She pulled him into the shower stall under the hot spray. “If the wall falls over, we’ll know you did a bad job.”

  10

  Dani

  Dani was sitting on the second story front porch, resting. She hated to admit that working with the rift, combined with the library ambush—also multiple rounds of shower sex—had left her pretty wiped out.

  She tried not to let the fact that she’d been attacked and damn near strangled unnerve her, but she’d had a really difficult time sleeping since the attack. She would jerk awake in the middle of the night, absolutely sure that someone was lurking in the shadows of her house, waiting to hurt her again. And it would take her hours before she could relax enough to go back to sleep. Sometimes, she was still awake when the rising sun showed through her window.

  The lack of sleep meant lack of focus, and it was messing with her ability to go to the rift site and work safely. A sleep-deprived dynakinetic was a dynakinetic that could end up turned inside out and pinched between dimensions.

  Something was bothering Dani about the library attack, and not just the “strangulation” of it all. That over-sweet smell that had clung to Dani’s skin all night afterwards. She knew she should be able to place it, but it was blocked from her memory.

  Maybe if she got some sleep, she might remember.

  Dani forced herself to relax back into her cane rocker. This was easily her favorite time of day on the bayou, when the light got all soft and the witch bottles started to fire up. The heat faded with the sun and you felt like you could take a deep breath without inhaling a mosquito. She was going to miss this, when she picked up and moved on to her next assignment. She would miss having her own space, as opposed to living in some soulless hotel room. She would miss the smells of honeysuckle drifting through her screen windows, and the chirping of birds and frogs.

  She’d told her grandfather that the farm was the only home she’d ever known, but if she was honest with herself, this house—Mystic Bayou as a whole—had put her at ease in ways she hadn’t felt in years. Yes, it was a strange place filled with stranger people, but she’d been accepted here. She didn’t have to hide what she could do. She didn’t have to worry about choosing her words carefully or coming up with a believable lie. Her skills made her part of something, instead of setting her apart. When she walked down Main Street, people knew her, they waved, called her by name. She had a place here.

  And Zed.

  She would definitely miss Zed in ways she didn’t want to think about, particularly when she heard the rumbling of Clarissa’s big rusty red pick-up truck that looked like it was produced in the 1940s . . . which was a little awkward. She hoped that Clarissa couldn’t sniff out hormones and other bodily secretions, because she did not have the strength to deal with an angry bear mama.

  Clarissa hopped out of the truck, reaching in the back and pulling out a large basket over-flowing with shiny red apples. “Hi there, cher!”

  Dani jogged down the stairs to meet Clarissa at the door, pausing to spray on some perfume, just in case.

  “I thought you might need a pick me up,” Clarissa said, handing Dani the basket. “I thought you might appreciate some of the fruit from my trees.”

  “Oof!” Dani huffed under the weight of the basket. “Thank you, but I’d hate to take so much of your harvest. Do you want to come in?”

  Clarissa took the basket back from Dani and bustled into the house. “I have more than I could ever eat. Are you feeling all right, sweetheart? You look like you’re plumb ready to fall over.”

  “I’ve just had some trouble sleeping lately.”

  “Well, that’s understandable, considering all you’ve been through.” Clarissa patted Dani’s cheek with her soft, warm hand. The gesture reminded Dani of her grandmother and she had to hold her breath to prevent her eyes from watering over.

  Clarissa paused in front of the wall, where Dani had created a giant work board, drawing on the whitewashed plaster with chalk markers, pinning up maps, lists, notes and a list of names of people who had turned magique after being born human, including Jillian. This was the one thing she couldn’t keep at the library or her office, for fear of people seeing it and misinterpreting half-done theories.

  “Yeah, I know, it’s a little intense,” said Dani.

  Clarissa shook her head. “Oh, no, honey, it makes a lot of sense . . . if you’re a serial killer.”

  Dani laughed.

  “These are beautiful,” Dani told her, sniffing the sweet skin of the fruit. “I was surprised to find such a big local fruit selection at the store, empty as it was. I didn’t realize you can grow apples this far south.”

  “Generally, they don’t do well here, but with the various magics bouncing around the Bayou, my trees produce a nice crop.”

  Dani nodded toward the back of the house. “Join me in the kitchen?”

  Clarissa followed Dani into the little dollhouse kitchen, where Dani washed the apples thoroughly. Then she took a paring knife from the drawer and peeled one in a single long strip.

  “That’s a neat trick,” said Clarissa.

  “Years of practice. Gramma wouldn’t let you bake apple crumble if you couldn’t clean an apple in one strip. My aunt Trudy could do it before she started kindergarten,” Dani said, dropping the peel in the sink.

  “I can’t say I’ve had an apple crumble. We mostly stick to pie around here.”

  Dani grabbed another apple and began working her magic. “It’s the same principle, but with a fancier topping. I don’t have the ingredients right now. So I’m going to settle for some applesauce.” Dani dropped the apple peeling into the trash
.

  “You can make your own applesauce?”

  Dani searched the spice rack for cinnamon and nutmeg. “It was my ‘home sick from school’ food. Easy on the stomach, but still tasty.”

  Clarissa frowned. “Doesn’t that take a long time?”

  “If you want to can it, yeah, it can be a pain. But this will just take couple of hours,” Dani told her, taking Miss Lottie’s largest pot from a rack on the ceiling. “It settles my nerves.”

  Clarissa hummed. “Will you show me how?”

  Dani nodded. “Sure, thing.”

  It took no time at all to get the sliced apples, spices, and brown sugar in Miss Lottie’s big iron pot. Clarissa asked questions and made notes, but Dani noticed that she never brought Zed or their “relationship” up in the conversation. Dani appreciated that.

  By the time she was done, Dani was yawning and nearly sagging against the counter. The meditative exercise of peeling apples and mixing spices had released some sort of blockage in her brain and she was suddenly so tired, she was almost nodding off on her feet. Or perhaps it was having Clarissa in the house. She knew with a literal mama bear watching her back, she would be safe as kittens.

  Clarissa shooed her away from the stove. “How about you go upstairs and take a nap and I’ll keep an eye on your apples. You might sleep a little better with someone else in the house. I have my Sudoku book to keep me busy. And Jillian downloaded some of those true crime podcast things on my phone. I am all set.”

  “You are full of surprises, Miss Clarissa.”

  “Well.” Clarissa took a pencil out of her bag with a flourish and rifled through her sodoku book. “Zed said that my Dateline habit was starting to worry him.”

  Dani snickered. “Do you promise not to clean anything while I’m asleep?”

  Clarissa’s jaw dropped. She started to protest, but then her eyes narrowed and the corners of her mouth lifted. “Jillian warned you, didn’t she?”