Wicked Tales Anthology

by Brandy Slaven

  “There, Mekhi.” I point up towards the rafters. “That’s where we’ll rest.” He rubs against my leg, and I glace down at him. He looks between me and the loft several times before I catch what he’s trying to tell me. How in the hell is he going to get up there? “You need to shift back, Mekhi.” I kneel down in front of him and look deep into his blue eyes, trying to make him understand. “Channel your energy and figure out a way to shift back.” Standing up, I walk towards the ladder and grab onto the rung directly in front of me. “I sure as hell can’t carry you up there.”

  Mekhi walks around in circles a few times before sitting down in front of the ladder, looking down at the ground, seeming defeated. Taking a knee in front of him, I lift his head up to my gaze.

  “Don’t you dare give up, do you hear me?” I place my hands on either side of his face, his whiskers ticking my skin. I don’t break our connection, looking him directly in the eyes. “You will shift, and you will do it now.” After massaging his face, I move to his ears, scratching and rubbing behind them. Mekhi begins to purr and closes his eyes. The beginning of a vibration starts under his skin. It becomes stronger and more powerful, turning into a ripple of power. I stand back and watch as his transformation takes place. It doesn’t look nearly as painful as his change into panther form. Mekhi, now human, and very, very naked, walks up to me and drags me into his arms.

  “Fuck, Rowe.” He pulls my face to his and takes my mouth with fervor, pouring everything he has left in him into the kiss. “I don’t know how or why that happened, but I felt so damn vulnerable in that state. I didn’t know if we would make it out without you getting hurt.” At about this moment he realizes he’s naked. “Well, shit,” he laughs despite our situation and heads towards the ladder. “Maybe we can find something up here to cover me.”

  He gestures for me to go first, partly to catch me if I fall, but I think also so I don’t have to be directly behind his naked ass as we ascend. “Thanks for that,” I call over my shoulder as I pull myself over the railing at the top. I walk around and look for anything to make a pallet or at least cover us. We’re both still wet from the rain, and it’s beginning to get cold. There are a few plaid, wool blankets piled in the corner and some old saddle pads. I use the pads to create a makeshift mattress in a nest of hay in the corner and motion for Mekhi to come join me.

  “You better get out of your wet clothes, Rowe.” He looks me up and down, giving me a naughty, desire-filled look. “We don’t want you catching pneumonia.”

  Although I want to argue with him, he does make a good point. I’m freezing in these clothes and they will dry much faster if I lay them out. I slip out of my jeans and t-shirt, wishing I had at least a warm pair of shoes or socks to slip on. Nothing like traveling barefoot. Our pallet looks much more comfortable than the thin mattresses in our cell, and I collapse into the softness.

  “Get in here, my big cat-man.” It’s my turn to act a little bad, and I’m feeling a bit mischievous. Thinking about this man turns into a god damn panther gets me fucking hot. He ambles slowly over to me, the desire in his gaze evident, and he climbs into the bed next to me. I cover our bodies with the wool blankets and turn on my side to face him.

  “Thank you for saving my life, Mekhi.” I hook my leg over his waist and kiss him on the mouth, trailing my tongue over his lips. He kisses me back with pure need, and I pull the hair on the back of his head, grinding into him as our kiss becomes increasingly heated. His erection presses against my stomach, and I reach down, taking it in my hand. Stroking up and down, I stop at the base to cup his balls in my hand, my finger applying pressure to that most sensitive spot on a man.

  “Fuck, Rowe!” He cries out and flips me over so that he’s in control. “Much more of that and I won’t be able to take you properly.” He nips at my ear and leaves a trail down my neck before pulling my nipple into his mouth. “I’ve been dying to fuck you ever since we lost those shackles.” He takes my mouth with his, and his eyes glow bright blue with a promise of what’s to come reflecting back at me.

  I wrap my legs around his back and beg him to give me everything he’s got. He purrs deep in his throat, and the sound almost makes me come undone.

  “I hope you’re ready, Rowe.” His eyes burn blue with desire. “I’m not going to hold back this time.”

  “Promise?” I taunt with a playful smirk, delighted at the thought of getting the ride of my life.

  Mekhi thrusts into me and lets out a loud growl, the power in his body rippling underneath his skin. I wrap my legs tighter around his back and close my eyes, giving myself over to Mekhi and everything he has to offer.

  I wake up to something poking me in the thigh. Not quite alert yet, I rub my eyes and stretch before investigating the source of the nudge. Directly in front of me, at the foot of our pallet, stands a man in overalls and a t-shirt, with a shotgun in his hand. I gasp in fear when I realize it’s pointed at Mekhi’s head. I elbow Mekhi in the side, trying to get him to wake up, but he only rolls over and wraps his arms around me.

  “Get up, asshole,” the man in the overalls yells, causing Mekhi to bolt upright, instantly on guard. He growls from deep within his chest, a low sound of warning.

  “Calm down, babe.” I rub his shoulder as I speak. The last thing we need is this man shooting him in the face, or Mekhi changing into a were-panther and then getting shot in the face.

  “What the fuck are you doing in my barn?” The man moves the barrel of the shotgun closer to Mekhi’s face. I see Mekhi clench his jaw, the muscle there twitching under the pressure to control his anger.

  “I apologize for the intrusion. We were just cold and tired.” I’m probably the better person to supply answers given Mekhi’s current state.

  “Yeah, it looks like it.” He nods his head towards the pile of clothes in the hay next to us.

  I feel myself blush, and I really have no way to explain to this man what we were doing here.

  “Please, if you let us go, we’ll leave and never come back.” I reach down under the covers and grab Mekhi’s hand, rubbing my thumb on his palm to comfort him.

  “What’s your names?” He asks, lowering the shotgun a little. I’m hopeful that I’m making some progress.

  “I’m Rowen, and this is Mekhi.” I keep my tone sweet in the hope that my cooperation will buy us a ticket out of here unharmed.

  “When was the last time you two bathed?” He looks at our dirty and tattered clothes in disgust. “Or had a decent meal?”

  “It’s been quite a while, I won’t lie.” I sit up, covering myself with the blanket and pull Mekhi up next to me. Now that the shotgun hangs in a loose grip next to the man’s leg and isn’t pointed at either of us, I’m a bit more relaxed.

  “Get up and get dressed.” The man orders and turns around to leave the loft. He starts down the ladder and looks over the railing at us before he disappears from view. “My name’s Martin.” He continues down the ladder and calls out to us as he goes. “Meet me in the house.”

  It takes me at least fifteen minutes to convince Mekhi to go inside and not take off into the sunset. The promise of a good meal and a warm shower finally made him agree to stay. He wraps a wool blanket around his waist and we make our way inside.

  “Thank you, Martin.” I’m sitting at the dinner table, full to the point of feeling nauseous, with a towel wrapped in my hair. I’m wearing some of Martin’s late wife’s clothes that are far too big but feel so much better than the rags I had on when I got here. Mekhi agrees to take a shower as long as Martin puts up the gun and promises to look after me while he’s gone. Mekhi doesn’t take long, however, and comes back after only about ten minutes. He walks out of the bathroom wearing a flannel shirt and a pair of Martin’s Wranglers looking absolutely delicious. His hair is toweled dried but still dripping in his face.

  “Thanks again.” Mekhi reaches his hand out to shake Martin’s hand. “I think we need to be going.” He looks at me and I reluctantly stand up to take my plate to the cou
nter. As I’m rinsing my plate in the sink, a loud bang sounds from the front door. Before Mekhi can make a move to investigate, it flies open, almost torn off the hinges, and four guards come charging into the house. The first guard makes it to me and backhands me in the face, sending me flying to the floor.

  “Rowe!” Mekhi’s growl is ferocious and enraged, his voice changing as he yells my name. One of the other guards charges him and hits him with a stick that crackles with what I assume is an electrical charge. He falls to the ground instantly, twitching in agony. I try to sit up but am hit with the same wand and fall back to the floor convulsing. I see Martin out of the corner of my eye running down the hall. I’m assuming he’s trying to get to his gun, but before he can make it, I hear a gunshot ring out and Martin falls to the ground.

  “No!” I scream as I’m lifted off the ground by a guard and pulled from the room and out of the house. In the front yard, I see a black van with its back doors open, Mekhi already splayed out, face down on the floor of the vehicle. Jerking out of the guard’s hold, I run towards Mekhi and jump inside the van, kneeling down next to him to make sure he’s alive. His breathing seems labored, but his heartbeat feels strong. His hand is cuffed to a bench anchored to the floor, and I feel someone step up behind me. A guard yanks me up by my hair and sits me down on the bench. He takes a shackle and attaches it to my ankle, yanking on it once to make sure it’s locked. He kneels down and looks me in the face, a disgusting look of satisfaction on his face.

  “Don’t try anything, sweetheart.” He stands back up and pulls out his gun from its holster. “Make a move to free yourself or him, and I’ll shoot your boyfriend in the head.” He jumps down out of the van and slams the door shut.

  It’s mostly dark back here with a hint of light coming from a screen separating the drivers compartment from the back. I slide down off of the bench and sit next to Mekhi. “I’m so sorry, love.” I lean down and kiss him on his cheek, brushing his hair out of his face. “If I’d have listened to you and left the barn when you wanted, this never would have happened.” I lie down next to him as close as my bindings allow, and rest my head on his arm. I’m sure this will be the last time we’re together. That is if they let us live. If they spare our lives, they certainly won’t lock us up together. I bury my head in his chest and breath in the scent of my panther, trying to commit it to memory.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Someone taps me on my shoulder. “Rowen, wake up,” the female voice starts off soft at first, but builds in volume as she tries to wake me.

  “We’re closing, miss, you need to get up.”

  I shoot up and look around, trying to get my bearings. Where the hell am I? I’m sitting in a fluffy chair surrounded by a circle of bookshelves. There’s a woman standing over me with grey hair and an orange cat in her arms. Wait a minute…a lady and an orange cat? I dreamt about all of this in my cell. I saw this in my memories. A part of my dreams.

  “Are you okay, Rowen?” The lady sits down in a recliner chair next to me. “You’ve been sleeping for a couple hours, but you seemed so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you.” She sets the cat down on the floor and takes my hand. “You’ve had such a bad run lately, I thought you might need the rest.” She just stares at me with a look of confusion and concern on her face. “We’re set to close soon, so I figured I better wake you up.”

  “Who are you?” Searching my mind, I know she looks familiar, but I can’t quite put all the pieces together.

  “I’m Adeline, remember?” She drops my hand and stands up at the foot of the ottoman waiting for me. “That must have been some dream.”

  I pick up the book in my lap, glancing at the title: “Dark Reverie.” A rush of memories floods my brain. A were-panther named Mekhi, a cell with shackles, magical powers, and guards. This man from my dreams is more than just a character. We are in love. We made love. Was it really all a dream? Everything about it seemed so real, though. I grab my jacket and purse from the side table next to me and stand up to leave.

  “I’m so sorry I kept you, Adeline.” As I walk through the bookstore, the fog in my brain dissipates and things start to clear up. I came to this place for a distraction. A way to forget Brent. All I wanted to do was skip the Halloween party and be anti-social. This was an escape for me. I just wanted a cup of coffee and a great book, but instead I had the most amazing, craziest dream of my life. I follow Adeline to the front of the store and thank her for letting me invade her space for a few hours. She rings me up for my purchase of “Dark Reverie,” places it in a bag, and follows me to the front door. I’m mid spin to turn around and say goodbye when she surprises me with a hug.

  “Take care of yourself, Rowen.” She looks me dead in the eyes with an expression of complete seriousness. “Remember, not everything is as it seems,” she tells me ominously. She opens the door for me, and I walk out into the cold, fall air. “Sometimes your dreams can become reality.” She nods and closes the door, leaving me standing on the sidewalk in front of Chimera, feeling exhausted and confused.

  As I walk home, I search my mind for every detail I can recall from my dream at the bookstore. Every single thing I can remember seems more than real. The smell of the musty, damp basement still lingers in my nose. The taste of the disgusting food Mekhi and I were served every day is still on my tongue. The shackles still feel as if they chafe and weigh down my wrist. My skin tingles with the memories of Mekhi as he touched my body, kissing and licking every inch. A cool breeze picks up, and I pull my jacket on, the memories doing nothing to warm me as I continue my walk back home.

  Fifteen minutes later I arrive at my house and am greeted with eggshells on my door and toilet paper in my tree. Damnit, I should have left out some candy for the trick-or-treaters. Walking through the mess, I unlock my door and decide to clean tomorrow when I have more energy. Instead, I decide a long, hot shower is in order.

  After undressing, I reach into the shower to turn on the water and see a large, dark abrasion around my wrist. What in the hell? I jerk my hand back and rub the mark, seeing if it will come off under the pressure. Nope, it’s definitely a bruise. My makeup vanity is behind me and I turn around and look in the mirror. There’s a long, dark contusion on the left side of my face, right along my cheekbone. I run my fingers along the length of it, and it’s sore under my touch. I stand there for a moment and remember the exact situations in my dream when I got these wounds. How can that be? A dream can’t leave a physical manifestation on a body. At least not in real life. I’ve seen it on some fake daytime reality shows or in the movies, but it can’t really happen. Maybe I thrashed around in my dream and hurt myself?

  Convinced I’m going crazy, I jump into the shower, turn the water on as hot as I can stand it, and step into the spray. My eyes close as I relax, and I try to forget the events of the night. No matter what the explanation, the bottom line is, I started my night at the bookstore and that’s where it ended. Anything that happened in between must simply be a figment of my imagination.

  An hour later, I’m sitting on my couch, too wound up to sleep. I’m flipping through the channels, trying to find something on the television to distract me. It’s so late, my choices are either talk shows or the last airing of the local news. Settling on the news, I hope the monotonous tones of the anchors will put me to sleep. Having no energy to walk to my room to climb into my bed, I situate my pillows and lay down on the couch, pulling a crocheted blanket over my body. I’m almost asleep when a news story catches my attention.

  “This just in,” the anchorwoman interrupts the weather man’s long-range forecast. “A local man, Mekhi Anderson, the victim of a wrong-way accident involving his motorcycle just awoke from a four-month long coma.” I shoot straight up on the couch and turn up the volume.

  “Mekhi Anderson has been on life support for four months and was not expected to regain consciousness.” A picture of Mekhi appears on the right corner of the screen.

  “His sister has kept vigil by his bedside and will s
peak with NEWS-11 tomorrow morning.” She signs off of her broadcast and hands the programming back to the weatherman.

  Grabbing the remote from between the couch cushion, I turn off the television and lay back on the couch in complete shock. What in the hell is going on? My eyes won’t stay open any longer, and I wish myself back into my dream, back to Mekhi, not sure what’s reality any longer.

  ***

  The nurse adjusted my pillows so that I am sitting up in my hospital bed, a copy of the book, “Dark Reverie” sitting in my lap. My sister, Charlotte, said she read this story to me every night. She explained that sometimes my vitals would react to what she was reading and oftentimes I’d thrash about and even make noises while in my coma. The doctors assured her these were all just reflexes of my body and nothing to indicate I would wake up any time soon.

  The woman on the cover of the book looks just like Rowen from my dreams. My Rowe. How can she not be real? Every single thing I experienced in that dungeon, both before and after I met her plays out in my mind like a movie. This morning I woke up from my coma with physical injuries I remember receiving in my dreams. The doctors explained that away as the result of my violent physical outbursts while I was unconscious. They all concur that every wound was self-inflicted. I know that I should be happy that I am awake. I should be thrilled to be back to reality and back with my family, but I can’t seem to snap out of this funk. All I can think about is going back to sleep and waking up back in that cell. My soul screams, wanting to reunite with Rowe and continue the adventures that I know await. And the beast inside me agrees.

  Acknowledgments