by Gina LaManna
Where Matthew wore gorgeous suits of fine material, Grey leaned toward faded jeans with simple fitted T-shirts. In a way, he reminded me of a cowboy. He had a rugged, tanned face, and long slender legs. His muscles looked like they’d come from hours of hard work and manual labor. I couldn’t help comparing his flushed tones and sun-washed skin to Matthew’s ethereally pale, stony skin. Both men were intimidating. Both men were my friends.
I forced myself to take a few deep breaths and gather my mind. Falling apart would do nothing. Talking about it might help, psychology crap and all that. And it was better to talk to Grey, a man I sensed understood complicated matters, instead of burdening poor Willa with all my problems. I would only worry her if I went home like this, and she had enough worry, what with caring for her ill mother.
“Okay,” I agreed. “Just a walk and talk. That’s it.”
“As friends,” he confirmed. “I’m just worried about you.”
My life was already complicated enough, and I didn’t need a man to ramp up the confusion. Not that Grey would be a horrible companion. As we walked, I studied him more, wondered what had brought him around today. He didn’t seem inclined to ask questions, and for that I was grateful.
As we continued in our own thoughts, I let mine wander to him. I hadn’t seen him much in the last week or two, ever since he’d lost his girlfriend at the hands of a brutal murderer. I sensed he was still in pain, in a sort of grieving mode. I understood that, too.
“Where are we headed?” I ventured, when the time for conversation felt right. “I have to be back to work this afternoon.”
“Which job?”
“I’m not working for the precinct,” I said. “I’m just helping out.”
“On a few cases.”
“One or two.”
“You’re working for them.”
“It’s personal.”
“Do you trust me?” Grey reached the edges of The Depth—a deep, dark forest that crept into the east side of Wicked. It was well-known that folks didn’t venture inside unless accompanied by a well-trained guide. I would consider Grey a very well-trained guide.
“Yes,” I said. “But you didn’t answer where we’re going.”
“I want to show you a place.”
I furrowed my brow. “Fine.”
“But—” he held out a hand—“you are going to have to climb on.”
“Excuse me?”
“When I change—it’s the only way that I can get you there.”
“Absolutely not. Pick another place. The bar is just around the corner.”
“The bar isn’t very private, now is it? I assume the matters that have you concerned are private.”
I tilted my head to the side. “You’d guess right.”
“Let me show you.”
“What do you mean when you say...” I cleared my throat, feeling ridiculous. “Climb on?”
“I mean climb on my back. It’s the most effective way for us to travel.”
And then without waiting for a response, he began walking into the woods. My heartbeat sped up as he disappeared behind a particularly large clump of bushes. When he returned, the man was gone, and a wolf stood in his place.
It wasn’t any sort of ordinary wolf, nor was it a werewolf. Grey, contrary to his name, had the snowiest of white coats and eyes a piercing, sapphire blue. Also unlike the werewolves, he seemed alert in his other form. The way he looked at me, I knew he hadn’t turned animal in the same sense as werewolves under the full moon. Which would explain how he’d been able to save me the night he’d burst through my window and found me bleeding to death.
He gave a whine and dropped to the ground. Not only did he have a coat of snow, but he was the size of a bear—he was huge. I understood now what he meant when he’d instructed me to climb on. My weight would feel like nothing to him.
“Come on, Grey,” I said. “There’s got to be another way. I’m not going to ride you.”
Another whine, and then a yip. I could practically hear his voice in my head encouraging me. I gave a huge sigh. Feeling absolutely ridiculous, I stepped forward, reached out, and waited until Grey stepped up to nuzzle my hand. At no point was I scared of him. Even in an alternate form, he still seemed like the Grey I’d come to know as a friend.
His wet nose met my palm, sniffed, and then he nuzzled against my stomach, his fur smooth as the softest of silks as he brushed against my side. He again dropped to a crouch and whined for me to climb on. With another groan and a few curses, I did. I suspected Grey wouldn’t change back until he got his way.
“You’re stubborn, you know that?” I said, running my hands into his hair and clenching my fingers when I got a sturdy grip. “I feel like an idiot.”
Grey’s yip sounded enough like a cackle that I knew he could understand me. I swung one leg over, then adjusted myself so that as he rose, I stayed firmly planted on his back. When he gave the next sharp growl, I knew it was a warning to hold on tight.
Hold on tight I did. I also closed my eyes and just about had a panic attack as Grey rose to all fours, gave a shudder to ensure I stayed in place, and then set off. He eased into the journey with a loping pace that set my nerve endings on fire as we took off into The Depth.
Within minutes, we were further into the forest than I’d ever been before. Gradually, he picked up speed until we were absolutely flying. Branches deflected off his head and limbs, the smallest of them catching in my hair and brushing against my skin. However, for all the low-hanging branches and thick bristle about our feet, the journey was incredibly smooth. His sight and reflexes must be on a similar level as Matthew’s.
Eventually, I scrounged up the courage to open my eyes as Grey sprinted, carrying the both of us through lands I’d never known to exist. We climbed a high hill from which I could see the town center far in the distance, and I was agog at the distance we’d put between us and it. With startling clarity, I knew that if Grey and I perished out here, nobody would ever find us. I closed my eyes again and hoped for the best.
The rest of the trip concluded in a stunning whirl of brightness when I next opened my eyes. A lake sparkled like fractured glass as we burst from the thickness of the forest into a vibrant, sunny clearing. Grasses waved tall and wild in the breeze, free to grow any which way. Dots of white and pink flowers laced the meadow, and as Grey stretched his legs further and faster, I got the feeling we were almost there. Wherever there might be.
That’s when I saw it. Or what I presumed was our destination.
A house sat on top of the hill. It looked like we’d come straight through The Depth to the other side which, frankly, blew my mind. In some childish way, I’d always assumed there was no other side to the forest. In my imagination, it faded into some distant blackness that resembled death. If I hadn’t had Grey by my side, surely that’s the end I would have met.
When Grey dropped down to the ground once more, I slid from his back and stretched, every muscle in my body burning from the pain of holding tight with every last drop of energy. I tenderly moved my legs, flexed my fingers, unclenched whatever needed unclenching as Grey turned around and sprinted back toward the woods.
“Hey!” I yelled after him. “You’d better not leave me stranded! I’ll take you down if you don’t get back here, I swear to God, Grey!”
He disappeared into the edge of the trees, and I sighed. Out of boredom, I turned to study the structure behind me. I gave a startled gasp at the sheer size of it—from a distance, it’d looked like a quaint little cottage built atop a prairie. Up close, it appeared to be a grandiose example of modern art turned into a functional home.
I climbed up the tramped down grass path that had clearly seen frequent use, studying every angle and curve of the building. It was all tall, dark wood that met mostly in pointed peaks and sharp corners. The few rounded edges formed around stunning window displays that spanned several stories in height.
Around the house, garden beds bloomed with flowers and vegetables an
d herbs of all varieties. I caught a peek through the front window and was surprised to find I could see straight through to the backyard. The rear wall housed another huge pane of glass that gave me the impression it might be like living in a snow globe. Through the back, I could see more flowers, crops, and greenery.
Whoever...or whatever lived here could survive off the things grown just in the front yard. I bent, found a leaf of basil the size of my palm and snapped it off. I inhaled deeply and savored the pure freshness of it.
“Nice?” Grey startled me as he spoke from a few paces away.
“You scared me,” I said, clutching the leaf in my palm as I turned to face him. “Where’d you go?”
He reached for my hand, opened the clenched fist, and removed the leaf. “As a matter of fact, I need a few more. And the dill, if you will.”
“But—”
“It’s over there, behind the tomatoes.”
Wordlessly, I followed his instructions.
As Grey let himself into the house, I set to work gathering the supplies he’d requested. It shouldn’t have taken me as long as it did, but I enjoyed my time outside, working, thinking, alone with nothing but the slight buzz of bees, the flutter of butterfly wings, and the lazy beat of the sun on my back.
I found a small basket near the house and filled it to the brim with the requested supplies. I hauled it inside to find that Grey had thrown open every possible window in the place, turning it into a sunny, airy paradise.
“You seemed like you needed a change of pace,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind I brought you here.”
“It’s lovely. Is this your home?”
His back was to me as he shrugged. “Sure.”
“Sure?”
“One of them,” he said. “Works for now. Can you wash the herbs?”
I strolled through the living room into the open kitchen, impressed by the modern touches throughout the home. It had all the latest sleek, new features, and I suspected it’d cost an arm and a leg to build. I had no clue how they’d have even gotten the supplies this far, but Grey didn’t seem inclined to expand on the conversation.
One thing was for certain: Grey had money. He didn’t flaunt it in any sense of the word, but there was a quiet elegance to the way he moved, to the house as it stood decorated and shining, quaint and homey. It should have surprised me to find out the wolf was loaded, but somehow it didn’t. It fit him, just like his brilliant white coat.
I moved over toward a kitchen that made me drool with envy. If I’d been able to secure a quarter of this size kitchen, the pizzeria would’ve been a state of the art, exquisite restaurant. As it was, we were...a pizza shop.
Running the pungent leaves under water, I reached for a towel and set it out to pat the herbs dry. Behind me, Grey moved quietly, respectfully, in the way only someone with supreme supernatural gifts could move. My normal motions felt clunky next to his.
“Thanks for the lift here,” I said, cautiously. “I hope that wasn’t too strange for you.”
“Nope.”
“Did you take...” I hesitated. “Sorry, forget it. Why did you bring me here?”
“Lorraine never knew this place existed,” Grey said quietly. “This place is mine.”
I stopped patting the basil mid-motion. “But you brought me here?”
“It felt right.”
I swallowed, knowing we’d agreed to be friends, but feeling uncomfortable with the direction things were headed. The last thing I wanted was to make things awkward between us and lose a friend I’d just begun to have.
Grey didn’t seem inclined to have a conversation, so we continued to work quietly next to one another. When I finished with the herbs, he handed me a bowl and eggs, told me to crack them and start mixing. He was busy chopping something else on the center island, clicking buttons on the oven, and cranking the stove up to a high flame.
“Take a seat,” he said, once I’d prepared the egg mix. “Have a cup of coffee.”
He pushed a steaming hot French press toward me and a solid blue mug. I poured the coffee—fresh, real beans, none of that magicked stuff that had become trendy in the borough, and let it seep through me. I sighed, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.
The air here was fresher, clearer. Somehow, the problems I’d had back in the marketplace didn’t seem to exist in the same way. Those problems belonged to someone else—some high strung, retired cop who didn’t know when to let go of the past. They didn’t belong to me, a blissful gardener who picked herbs and prepared fresh foods and drank real, homemade coffee.
“Nice, isn’t it?” Grey slid a plate before me. On it was a perfectly golden omelet dotted with specks of prosciutto and the vibrant greens from his garden. Strips of perfectly crisp bacon lay next to it and, combined with the mug of coffee, made for the best breakfast I’d seen in years.
“Uh, this is more than nice,” I said. “This is...exquisite. Can I hire you? Executive chef at the pizzeria? Unfortunately, it’s probably beneath you at this point.”
He laughed. “I meant the place. The fresh air, the sunshine.”
“It’s like nothing exists outside of this little clearing.” I gestured to the broad prairies around us, grinning at my improper use of the word little. “Well, I mean, it’s vast out here, but so empty. It feels like we’re entirely alone.”
“In a way, we are.”
He loaded up a second plate for himself with enough food to feed a family of five. Together, we carried our plates and coffee to the back of the house where a sunroom with three glass walls felt warm and deliciously cozy. If I had a blanket and a book, I could curl up on the couch along one side and stay here for days.
“You can stay as long as you want,” he said, seeing me eye the couch. “I have plenty of guest bedrooms.”
“Thanks, but...” I sighed. “I’ll have to head back when we finish eating.”
“Shame.”
“It is. I haven’t been this relaxed since...well, I don’t remember. Which is ridiculous because we just got here.”
“It’s been an hour,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice as the light scrape of utensils against plates began to sound. “Though time is admittedly different out here; it passes quickly but feels slow. The way I prefer it.”
“You must enjoy living out here.”
“It has its perks,” he agreed.
“I suppose it gets lonely?”
“It can,” he said with a shrug. “Though most of us with severely extended lives get used to being alone quite quickly.”
“I’m sorry. It must be worse without Lorraine.”
“It’s always hard to say goodbye to someone you love.”
“I know.” I set my fork down. A shame, since the meal was incredible. But his words had brought back the truth that had led me to him in the first place. “I am sure you’re wondering why I was spooked earlier today.”
“I did wonder, briefly.” He focused on his plate, cutting the omelet into neat little squares before forking them into his mouth. “But you don’t have to explain. I just thought maybe if I shared this space with you, it would help. It’s easy to be quiet here, and sometimes I find that’s all I need.”
If anything, Grey’s willingness to leave me alone teased out my desire to speak. He had cared for me in such basic ways between the food, the rest, the solitude—it was as if he knew exactly what I needed. He felt safe.
“They say it’s cathartic to talk about stuff,” I said with a huff. “I don’t know if I buy it, but I guess it can’t hurt to try.”
He smiled, then continued eating.
“I think you’ve already guessed most of my story,” I began. “A while back, I started dating this man after...well, after I got out of a two-year relationship.”
“With the vampire.”
“With Matthew,” I said uneasily, but firmly. “Yes. Matthew and I broke up—well, never mind why, but things ended between us.”
“Him or you?”
“
He ended things.” I swallowed, pushing a bit of egg around my plate. It was a waste not to eat it, but I couldn’t seem to get my stomach to cooperate. “Maybe it was best for both of us, who knows? All I knew at the time was heartbreak.”
“Then another swooped in to save the day.”
“Yes, Trenton,” I said, suppressing the shudder his name brought on. “He seemed so normal, so stable, and that’s exactly what I needed at the time. Or so I thought. Maybe it was what I needed, but he couldn’t give it to me.”
“Did you love him?” Grey asked, looking up from his plate.
“I thought so at the time.” I winced, shook my head. “I never loved him in the way, well...” It felt odd describing how deep my love for Matthew had run in front of Grey. I couldn’t put my finger on why since the two of us both knew the truth. He’d had Lorraine; I’d had Matthew.
“Lorraine wasn’t the equivalent of Matthew,” Grey said. “I know the type of love you had with him, and it’s a different level. Lorraine and I were...we were still figuring things out. We cared for one another, but it’s not the same.”
“I guess I was just grateful that someone loved me—or cared enough to fill a void. God, that sounds so desperate, doesn’t it?”
He shook his head. “As humans, we’re meant to have companions. I’d say that your feelings were quite natural.”
I blinked, feeling the strange prick of tears in my eyes. I never cried. Damn this fresh air. Fighting back the onslaught of emotions, I hurried along before the barrier could break. “I didn’t notice anything was wrong. Not seriously wrong, at least. I was actually contemplating if the relationship was the right choice for me, just based on passion. I’d never quite felt it with Trenton. Not in the way I knew it to be true.”
“But you’d assumed passion led to heartbreak,” Grey completed. “So you stayed away from it and went for safety, even if it didn’t burn as brightly.”
“Fat load of good that did,” I said, forcing a laugh because otherwise, I would cry. “I promised myself I’d break up with Trenton after I completed the case I was working on—it was a big case, hard, and I didn’t want to deal with the fallout of a breakup during the middle of it.”