by Katie Zaber
“I think she left with a guy that works here. I’m getting his address now.”
Brynjar grunts, walking toward an empty table, stealing a drink off a server’s tray as she goes by. He looks old, worn, and tired. Who the hell did he fight? I’ve never seen him so battered.
“Kevin! I’m glad to see you. I was thinking about stopping by your place. I was getting worried. It’s been what, almost a month?”
Radiant. Stunningly beautiful. The air sucks out of my lungs, leaving me gasping. If she’s doing more paperwork now, she must spend less time on her back, giving her extra time to relax and pamper herself. Damn, she’s gorgeous. A powder blue dress hangs snug on her curves. The neckline drapes low, almost down to her belly button. Her silky blonde hair runs past her tits. The silver snowflake necklace she always wears—even if she wears nothing else—dangles between them. It makes my eyes and mind go places they shouldn’t.
“Lilly, you look great. Doing more paperwork? I thought it might bore you.”
Why didn’t she say yes? Why wouldn’t she marry me years ago? Our lives could have been so different. We could have been happy.
“Change is good every now and again. I still play by my own rules.” She flashes a wicked smile across her rose petal lips. “What have you been up to? I’ve missed you.” She pouts, making her lips pucker, her eyes glisten—damn, she knows how to play me. If seduction doesn’t work, a damsel in distress gets me every time.
Brynjar smacks my back as he eyes Lilly. “He’s busy. His cousin’s missing. He said”—Brynjar points to the bartender—“she left a few minutes ago with a blue-eyed bartender. We need his address.”
Thank God for Brynjar. I don’t think I’d cheat on Dana, but my mind got fuzzy.
“Your cousin, not a new lover?” Lilly tilts her head, trying her best to look concerned, batting her eyelashes. “I hope she’s all right.”
“My cousin. She moved here a month ago. We need his address,” I somehow say, feeling like I have a glob of peanut butter in my mouth.
“Sure, if I had it I would give it to you, but he hasn’t updated his paperwork since he moved. I think he lives somewhere near Third Street. Sorry I can’t be any more help, love.” A woman appears beside her with a tray holding a single drink like magic. Lilly passes me a glass of bicki on ice, my favorite.
“No, thanks.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Kevin, you’re full of surprises. You make life… interesting. I miss you.” Her soft fingers brush my arm.
“Thanks. I got to go.” Needing to escape her, I pull my arm away as quick as possible. Her touch floods my mind of memories of her skin against mine. She’s making it hard to think.
“You won’t stay, even for a little while?” Disappointed, she mopes, breaking my heart. I can’t stand to see a woman cry, even if it’s pretend.
“Busy.” Brynjar grabs my arm, rescuing me, dragging me backward toward the entrance.
“Visit soon, Kevin,” Lilly purrs, waving her hand like a beauty queen.
“You fool,” Brynjar barks as he yanks me out of CS and halfway down the alley before he lets go.
Sean doesn’t say a word as he watches us from the stoop, staring.
“What’d I do now?”
“Everything.” It’s his go-to answer, blaming me for everything wrong in life. “Dana. You think about her?”
“Yeah, I told Lilly we had to go.”
“You didn’t mention Dana.”
“No, we didn’t have time to discuss things.”
“Should’ve said ‘I’m with someone, where does that bartender live?’ Honest and direct.”
“I wasn’t thinking. I haven’t seen Lilly since the girls came to town. It felt weird. You know how many times I asked her to marry me.”
“Yes and she answered you a long time ago. Stop living in the past.”
Something is troubling him. He never talks this much, and he has never discussed women. The most involvement he got in my love life was when he first brought me to Capo’s Secret.
I grab his arm, stopping him. “What’s wrong? Is Megan in serious trouble?”
Brynjar stares for a moment. “Not sure.”
“If Megan’s in trouble with Fae… Brynjar, yesterday we sat there, Xander, Tristan, and me—we knew if Fae entered the house that Tristan would kill them. We were powerless. Wait, why would they want her?”
“Don’t know.”
He takes his arm back with force, then pushes forward toward Third Street. It’s odd hearing Brynjar talk, giving any information or advice. I still can’t figure out how Megan’s involved with Fae. What’s the connection?
***
Three hours later, we’ve walked Barrack Street, First through Sixth, Market, and all the popular make-out spots in town. We still haven’t seen her. The streets are empty, everyone’s home or at somebody’s house for the night.
“Brynjar, it’s been hours and you still haven’t said what might happen. She’s most likely had sex and passed out. Unless you plan to knock on every door, there’s nothing to do. What if the Fae attack the forge and I’m not there for Dana?”
Disappointment engulfs his face as his brows furrow and he hangs his head low. “Okay.”
“Maybe they hooked up quick and she is already at the barn house. We should check.” We’ve never reversed roles before, where he listens to my logic. Something is really wrong, but how the hell am I going dig it out of him? “Can you at least tell me what you’re thinking?”
“No.”
“You have me chasing after my cousin on a wild goose chase through town. What’s wrong? Who beat the shit out of you?”
“No. Nobody beat me,” he says, brooding, slowing his walk back to the house, lagging behind me. He hunches his shoulders, making him look like a defeated old man.
Chapter Ten - Megan
“I liked your note, Lips.”
“I thought you might, Blue.”
I lie sprawled out, lounging on an orange fur in front of his fireplace, warming myself. Finally, I feel like I can relax. The last thirty-six hours have been hell. Between the Fae blizzard attack, my nightmares, the fighting, and working around the clock to make certain we have enough supplies to last the winter or another assault, I needed out of the barn house. Especially after last night’s nightmare. It was horrific. It’s the first one I remember, but I wish I didn’t.
I was at my parents’ house, the whole family too. Mom and Chelsea waited by the pool while Dad cooked steaks on the grill. I haven’t dreamed of him since childhood. He appeared older, as if still alive. His short hair had tight white curls mixed among the red. His beard was trimmed short and neat. Square black sunglasses blocked his royal blue eyes from the sun. His forehead was wrinkled and his skin leathery. I can’t believe Dad was there. He called me kiddo and gave me a hug, tousling my hair as he had when I was a kid.
Mom was lounging on a chair, sipping a strawberry daiquiri. She waved me over to join her and Chelsea by the pool. The birds sang in the trees, seagulls squawked and cawed as they drifted in the summer breeze. The sun’s warmth tickled my skin and the scent of the salt water in the air stung my nose. It seemed Capo was the nightmare and everyone waited for me at home. Part of me realized it was a dream, but I didn’t want it to end, so I joined them by the pool.
Pebbles crunched under my bare feet as I crossed the backyard. The steaks sizzled on the grill, their smoky aroma mingling with the neighbors’ burgers and hot dogs. Dad was drizzling butter onto sweet New Jersey corn, while baked beans with bacon simmered. The smells alone made me crave a summer barbeque.
Mom’s tortoiseshell sunglasses had glinted, catching my eye. I stared at them, becoming lost in their black-cat-eyed centers, until suddenly, the darkness in her glasses swallowed me whole.
Within seconds, the sky turned black. An eruption of heat compelled me to shield my face while flames scorched my body. Countless moments passed as my flesh cooked, my hair burned. After what felt like hours, I opened my eye
s to discover my childhood home gone, cinders in its place. My family were piles of ash on the ground. The rest of the landscape, my former childhood neighborhood, was indistinguishable from the once vibrant shore community. My skin sizzled and cracked with every movement. Wisps of smoke leaked between fractures that once was my flesh but had become something that resembled charred steak.
A ringing in my ears became a burning sensation, forcing me to cover them. It wasn’t the heat but a screech that caused my teeth to rattle—and my ears to bleed. Tiny droplets of blood dripped out from my ears. Pus mixed with blood, as if my eardrums had ruptured, ran down my cheeks.
Another screech. That one made the ground shake.
Somehow, I knew they were after me and I had to run. What they were, I couldn’t see. I only knew that if they caught me, I would die. I spied a cave in the distance, a place to hide. I rushed past piles of ash, twisted metal, and debris strewn across what I believe was my former neighborhood. Clouds of smoke rolled in like fog and stung my eyes. I began to run blindly toward my only protection, that distant cave.
Then I whacked my head on the floor as I fell out of the bed crying, waking everybody in the house. After the freak Fae blizzard, everyone was on high alert. Kevin raced into my room. I’m positive Tristan and Xander had waited outside the door to hear if I required help. That night terror was the worst. It still makes my skin crawl. I can’t comprehend what the dreams mean. If they’re symbolic, I have yet to understand. But they have to be the same nightmare that visits me nightly. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep again, it felt so real. I can still recall the stink of singed hair. How are my nightmares this lifelike?
Usually I would wait longer before seeking company, but after last night’s terrifying nightmare, the need to be out of the house and sharing a bed pressed more strongly. Plus, Blue is friendly, fun, and he knows how to treat a lady. He hasn’t brought up any subjects that make me run, either.
He pours two glasses of wine and then joins me in front of the fireplace. We cozy up under a warm silky orange fur. My fingers skim the orange hide. I can’t help but wonder what kind of animal it came from. It’s twice the size of a bearskin—it engulfs us like a fur-lined sleeping bag.
“Tell me something about you. Anything,” Blue says.
“Nah, this is more fun. With you, I can be anyone. Don’t you think that’s fun?”
“It is, but I keep thinking it’s a trick or a trap. There aren’t many women like you.”
“Simple is easy.”
He drags his fingers across my stomach. My skin tingles, my nipples harden. “Please? Something, Lips. What’s your favorite food, your favorite drink, something about you?”
“Lady in Red is my favorite drink that you’ve made.” He frowns, unsatisfied. I need to give him a little more. “Have you ever eaten an apple?”
“No, what are they?”
“Spiked apple cider is my favorite drink. I used to make it on a cold fall day. It smells like fall. Apples are sweet and tart and you can eat them raw. I would peel and seed a bunch, then place them in a pot of simmering water. I’d cook them for hours with brown sugar, cinnamon, a dash of nutmeg, and a touch of clove. My home used to smell amazing in the fall. I’d love to have some again. That might be my favorite drink from home. Lady in Red reminds me of apples. It has a similar taste.”
He listens intently while he grazes my skin with his fingers. “Where can I buy apples?”
I smile and shake my head no. “They don’t grow here. It would cost a fortune to ship one, and I’m sure it would rot halfway through the journey. One day, I’ll return home and walk through the orchards near the ocean.”
It’s hard to speak of home, but talking about something real makes the lie easier. Seaside doesn’t have orchards by the sea, but if you travel a little northwest, there are tons. Wineries too. It used to be nice to pack a lunch and head out to a winery, listen to a band play while sipping a bottle of wine in the sun. New Jersey is beautiful. Mountains, lakes, the ocean, land covered by orchards and crops, gorgeous country near the big city; it really has everything within a short drive. I never realized how much I would miss what people call the armpit of the country.
“Orchards by the sea. Sounds tranquil.”
“It was.” My glass is empty again. I didn’t realize how fast I drank it. I should go back home, I want to talk to Ciara and apologize. “I need to go.”
“What? Wait, you just got here. Spend the night. I’ll walk you home in the morning.”
“Wants and needs are two different things.” I give him a kiss on the lips that promises more in the future.
“Stay, please.” His fingers move between my legs, an attempt to convince me not to leave, give up my search for my clothes.
“Hmm.” Goosebumps spread across my skin. “A little longer, but I must go home tonight.”
“Why?”
“Things need to get done.”
“Wants and needs—which one am I?”
His fingers vibrate, my feet arch, my legs spread wider, wanting him. He flips me onto my stomach, grabs my hands, and pushes deep into me, leaving me breathless. He nibbles my ear, and then kisses my neck. I’m barely able to speak between moans, but it comes out as a whisper, a prayer even.
“Need.”
***
I left his house later than planned. We fell asleep by the fire, wrapped in orange fur and each other’s arms. He’ll wake up to a similar note. It made me smile. Lips and an apple. I worked at it for a minute, getting the stem and leaf right, the shine mark too. Next time, I’ll draw a rose.
I wonder what he thinks about me. Stop. No. I don’t want to know. I enjoy being a mystery—I only hope he does.
The stars shine bright. A patch of clouds, the only ones in the sky, hides the alien moons. The late fall air is crisp and cool. It’s a beautiful night for a walk through the town center of Capo. Blue’s apartment is about a fifteen-minute walk from Kevin’s. Six blocks away from the hustle and bustle of Tavern Street, five blocks away from the chaotic market, smack dab in the middle of town.
I needed a break. After the snow melted and it was once again safe, we went straight to work. Everyone moved into the barn house that night. The men moved furniture while we women filled the food storage. We worked late into the night, later than we have worked since arriving. The house is void of everything. It’s a skeleton. There’s nothing inside, only its mere structure. It’s no longer a home to anyone. In the spring, we’ll set it up to rent. It should make decent money.
With all the work and lack of sleep, my mood swings have gotten worse, and earlier tonight, Ciara was my target. I feel terrible, I was a complete bitch. I planned to talk to her after Blue’s, but she’s probably not up now. I’ll wake up at dawn and make everyone breakfast. They deserve it for putting up with my mood. I’ve been raw and aggressive, beyond difficult to be around—even I can admit that. With all the preparations for winter or a possible Fae attack, there has been little chance to escape my temper or me.
All Ciara tried to do was talk. I can’t help but feel bad. I’ll make things better in the morning. Pancakes with cinnamon and peaches. I wish we had apples. That’s Ciara’s favorite. We had loved to go apple picking in the fall. Sarah and Dana would join us sometimes, but Ciara and I would go every week once the leaves changed. I love cider, the smell of it brewing is therapeutic. Every day in the fall, cider would cook in my crockpot, filling my condo with a soothing fragrance. Ciara would bake pies, tarts, and other scrumptious desserts, besides savory meals. She loves fruit-incorporated dishes. She’s a sweet girl with a sweet tooth. I shouldn’t have been so mean, so harsh. She’s so loving. I need to make it up to her.
“Hello.”
A breathy, ominous voice draws out an eerie hello. It’s never good when a creep sings to you after midnight. A tall, slender man dressed in black glides out of the shadows, floating above the cobblestone by a half foot. A large black hood drapes over his head, covering his whole body, c
oncealing his face. Am I staring at a ghost?
“Where are you going?”
I swivel around to find two more singing in unison, their heads tilting in question. Their dark, hooded capes hide them. This isn’t good. I’m halfway home and the streets are empty. There’s no one to help me. My only option is to run to the barn house and pray Kevin is awake.
I take off.
“Come back,” the first one cries.
“You are making this harder for yourself.” A fourth sings a sick melody.
“Get away! Help!”
“You will tire yourself out, and we have a long night planned,” one of them calls.
“Fuck off!” I scream.
They all look and sound the same, speaking sinister melody talk. They sound almost compassionate, but even a moron can hear the trap. Like fucked-up sirens, they tell me to stop running, to end their chase. My feet pound on the cobblestones. There are no other footsteps besides mine. There are no other sounds except my panting, their creepy voices, and me running.
How are they floating?
My legs feel like rubber from the sprint, less than two blocks from the house. I might be close enough for them to hear me yell.
“Help! Kevin! Xander! Tristan! Help!”
A block away, I stop dead in my tracks.
Shit. It’s Fae.
Fae chase me. It makes terrifying sense. If I continue to the house, Kevin won’t be able to fight them, nor Tristan or Xander. I knew they stood defenseless when the Fae blizzard struck, even if they pretended to be brave.
No one can help me, but I can save them. I don’t want to bring the enemy home. They will kill my family and friends. I have to protect them. If these assholes want me and only me, then fine, try to take me, but I won’t let them hurt anyone else.
“Glad you changed your mind. It’s so much more fun when they… participate,” says one of them. Their voices give me chills. My stomach twists, threatening to expel the wine I just drank.
“Show yourselves, assholes!” I yell.
I left my pocketknife at the house. I don’t know why, I wasn’t thinking. I was too focused on wants rather than needs. I have nothing to defend myself with, but if they are Fae, weapons won’t help. You don’t bring a knife to a magic fight.