by Gabby Fawkes
Something about the too-light way he said it screamed ‘test.’ But of what, I hadn’t the foggiest. Unless he was the kind of crazy/ magical that saw dragons and wanted to know if we were too.
Just because he was asking didn’t mean I had to answer, though. So far, honesty hadn’t served my friends and me well.
“I guess,” I said.
He waited for us to elaborate, but when we said nothing, all his casual good-humor dropped away.
“I repeat,” he said, his tone pure ice now, “why are you here?”
His question rattled in my head. Clearly, this guy was not going to take a lie for an answer. But the truth? How did I know that it wasn’t going to get us trapped – or worse, killed?
Just answer him, you dolt, the voice hissed in me, I like this one.
“Dragons,” I blurted out, before I could talk myself out of it.
What followed was the longest thirty seconds of my life.
Kian elbowed me.
Demi gasped in a breath.
And Mr. Hot Guy sliced through me with that gaze.
Although it was his hands I couldn’t stop glancing at. Even his bone structure looked jacked, made to kill. Like he could crush your skull in his bare hands.
“Let’s talk at the Flying Narwhale,” he said.
My friends and I exchanged a look. We weren’t exactly well-versed in normal real-world behavior, but still. Common sense said that some stranger you just met inviting you to some random place after talking about dragons was Red Flag #1.
“Come again?” Kian said.
His eyes were now suspicious slits. “Where are you from?”
My friends and I exchanged another look. There it was, the million-dollar question that had brought us nothing good so far.
“We’re from a school you’ve never heard of,” I said.
“Try me.”
“Do you know the DSA?” Demi asked quietly.
His head swiveled her way. “’Course. Why?”
Another pause where our answer was supposed to be, then he snapped, “Whatever game you’re playing at, it ends now. Tell me what you’re doing here. Now.”
His and my gazes dug into each other, while I went for my last-ditch effort: feigning fearlessness.
“No,” I snapped. “It’s a free country. My friends and I were just checking out the forest. Goodbye.”
Egged on by adrenaline, I’d just turned away when a hand closed around my forearm.
“Don’t.”
His word was a warning. When I opened my mouth to retort, nothing came out.
Heat crackled through the one layer separating us from skin to skin. Damn, just his touch…
Concentrate, Tala. I told myself. Your hot guy in shining hotness could be about to kill you.
One look in his face and I knew. He could – and would, if it suited him.
But then he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and he released me. A furrow appeared between his dark brows. “Why won’t you tell me the truth?”
“It’s risky.”
“Try me.”
He didn’t say the next part, but he didn’t need to. It’s not like you have a choice.
“Fine,” I said. “We’re from the School for the Different. Which no one seems to have heard of. And we saw the dragons on TV one day accidentally…”
I trailed off, seeing his face. All expression had left it.
“You’re lying,” he said flatly.
“We’re not,” Kian said. “And if you think you can just threaten us and we’ll go with you….”
“Then you’re a bigger ass than you look,” I finished for her.
The next second, her foot jabbed into his shin. I watched, horror-struck, as he stood there as if nothing had happened at all. Demi and I exchanged a look, having the same thought – ball-shot.
Both our legs jabbed out, getting him in the balls.
Finally, he doubled over, cursing. That was our cue to run.
“What was that about?” I yelled to Kian as we crashed our way through the forest, hopefully the same way we’d come.
“That was us getting away!”
“Demi isn’t a track superstar!” I yelled back.
Sure enough, poor Demi was already lagging behind. I reached out, grabbed her hand and pulled her along.
I threw a look back, but he was already out of sight. Yep, we’d get a 10/10 for daring – and dumbness. That guy was capital-F fit – and we were trying to outrun him?
The trees were sparser now; we were nearly out of the forest already. But it still might not be enough.
Seconds later, the conclusion came crashing down – no, it wouldn’t be enough. Not by a long shot.
Because there at the entrance was the last person I expected to see. Because, surely, his being there was impossible,
Arms crossed, a flicker of a smile on his handsome face, the same hot guy I’d kicked in the balls, said, “I’m Axel.”
15
An instant later, he was directly in front of us.
Oh shit.
This close, there was no running. Not from him or his manly scent, a thick musk that made me light-headed. Or maybe it was all the running I seemed to be doing lately.
“Don’t make me force you to tell me what’s going on,” he said.
Kian looked like she’d a mind to do another ball-shot too, but I knew now wasn’t the time. If this guy was our enemy, we’d have to get him when his guard was down, which wasn’t going to be right after we’d attacked and run away from him.
“Why should we go with you?” I said.
“Why not?” he said. “I mean you no harm. The Flying Narwhale is a no man’s land, a public pub. You’d be free to go after.”
“And this Flying Narwhale…” Demi said quietly.
“Yeah?” he said.
Her cheeks flushed, she said uncertainly, “Well, it’s not a….”
A beat of a pause. Then, getting it, he sputtered out laughter.
Powerful guffaws filled the woods around us. He looked even more handsome happy. Glorrrious.
“No…” he said between guffaws, “it’s not an… actual…. flying narwhale.”
Kian’s and my gazes whipped to Demi, who was now beet red as she protested, “Hey, with all we’ve seen.”
“What have you seen?” Axel said, calming down rapidly.
“Let’s just get to this Flying Narwhale,” I said.
It at least beat him hearing our story and then changing his mind and taking us right back to the DSA – or worse.
“As you wish,” Axel said, already striding ahead. “Coming?”
“Like we have a choice,” I grumbled as we followed him.
“What do we do?” Demi whispered to us.
“Soon as we’re in Chico and people are around, kick his balls and make a run for it,” Kian whispered.
“You’ll regret that,” he snapped up ahead.
“How did he…” Kian breathed.
I could only gape at the back of his head. He had to have been several paces ahead of us – and yet he’d heard our whispers?
“Know this,” he said to the air ahead of him, his voice cold, “I don’t make the same mistake twice. And I have a temper. Which I suggest you don’t ignite. At least, if you value workable limbs.”
I bristled. Ok yeah, so he was 100% an asshole jerk, no doubts there anymore.
“Asshole,” I muttered, not caring if he heard me.
“Muy asshole,” Kian agreed.
“Guys,” Demi cautioned us, then, seeing our expectant do-it glares, assented, “Kinda asshole.”
“Hot asshole,” he corrected us from up ahead, sounding slightly less pissed.
“How long were you eavesdropping on us back there in the forest?” I said.
“Overhearing, not eavesdropping. Not like you ladies were keeping your voices down.”
“Whatever,” Kian muttered.
We were approaching the outskirts of Chico anyway. It was as des
erted as my mind was for ideas of how to get away. Were we really going to have to trust this guy and go to this Flying Narwhale pub place?
Axel slowed so he was walking pace in pace with us.
“This place isn’t exactly happening,” Kian commented, eyeing a plastic bag flapping in the wind, caught on a traffic light.
“That’s why it was a good place to do it,” he replied.
Kian elbowed me, but I could only return her wide-eyed look. Obviously we were thinking the same thing – what the hell did this guy know about it? – but couldn’t talk about it here.
“Do what?” I asked anyway.
“Flying Narwhale first,” he said curtly. “Questions after.”
So much for that. My gaze was nosing into every possible doorway, wondering if it would be worthwhile running there, trying to escape.
Abruptly, Axel stopped. “I meant what I said. I mean you no harm.”
His gaze caught mine, held it. It occurred to me that his eyes weren’t just sea ice-blue – they were many blues, all in the cool spectrum. His pupils swelled against the shade after light blue shade, thin shards kaleidoscoping together.
He’s telling the truth, the voice in me said simply.
And, no clue why, but I believed it. More than that, I knew it myself.
This guy was definitely an ass, and dangerous, and I had absolutely no logical reason to believe him. And yet, I did. I knew. He was telling the truth.
As we approached a door near a bus stop, Kian paused to give me a pointed what’s-the-plan look. She bounced on the tips of her toes, clearly ready to take off at any moment.
I just nodded and followed Axel inside. Plan was to follow him and hope to hell he wasn’t a creepy killer DSA undercover bad person.
Once inside the empty, dusty hallway, my heart leapt at the sight of what was at the end. A front desk… that was also unmanned.
As if he owned the place, Axel strode up the wall behind it and grabbed a three-pronged key off a corkboard where there hung several other keys. Who knows, maybe he did own this place.
He strode down a hallway on the left.
“Making everything take four times as long is the easiest way to have the DSA come scoop you up,” he said coolly.
“They’re nearby?” I asked, hurrying after him.
“Tala!” Kian said, though she followed too.
Stopping at the third door on the left, Axel spoke over his shoulder. “Could be. Their job is to track down and deal with anomalies. And you three are the biggest anomaly I’ve come across yet.” The clink of a key turning in the knob and the creak of an open door. “Now hurry up, before I decide to just ditch you for them to deal with.”
The room he’d just opened was almost completely empty. There was only a wicker rocking chair that faced us in a spectator-ish way.
“Why don’t you?” I said. “And what are you doing in that closet?”
Axel had immediately entered a closet, whose door was still open. Eyeing us, his brows flew up. “Damn. You guys really don’t know, do you?”
“We are not getting in that with you,” Kian declared, stomping her foot down loudly, as if that would give it roots. “That’s seven minutes of hell-no.”
He glanced at me, but I set my chin at a tilt. “She’s right. No way. We don’t get in closets with creepy assholes.”
In Don’t Get Kidnapped 101, I was pretty sure that topped the list. Not that I was getting assault-y vibes from this guy, but still. Maybe I trusted him, but not enough to go into a closed closet with him for no reason.
“You are,” he said, eyes glittering dangerously. “And you’ll close the door after you, too.”
My head whipped to Demi, the last in the room. “Run.”
The next few things happened very fast. One minute I was hurling myself for the door we’d come through, the next I was being shoved into the closet. So hard that I hit the wall, sending a spray of dust raining down. Next thing I heard were Kian’s and Demi’s shouts and him roaring, “THE FLYING NARWHALE!”
Everything was a mass of pitch-black bodies, then, one shove and… light.
Briny air. Blurry sun. Sea, to my left, to my right. Creaking planks under my feet.
“What the actual FUCK,” Demi breathed.
Kian and I gaped at her.
“What?” she said.
“I’ve literally never heard you swear in all the ten years I’ve known you,” Kian said.
“Guess I was saving it for when it counted,” Demi said, pointing ahead of us.
We didn’t answer, too busy visually following the line of her point. It ended on an hanging weather-ravaged wooden sign, whose letters still, unmistakably read: The Flying Narwhale. Underneath that there was even an etching of the horned sea creature with wings, to boot.
“No way,” was all I could think to say.
“Yes way,” Axel said, pushing past us.
“That’s it?” I demanded, late emotion crashing over me. “You just shove us into some closet and threaten us and…”
Looking behind me, I found that there was no door, just a series of planks that dissolved into the fog. I hadn’t taken one step since getting here, and yet there was no door behind me.
“How…” I said weakly.
He was further ahead, called back, “Why not save the self-righteousness for when you find out what’s going on?”
“Why not save the cocky ass act for never,” Kian grumbled after him, hand diving into her pocket. She produced a lipstick and began applying it.
“What?” she asked to our stares. “Why the hell shouldn’t I put on Pink Panther Party?”
Shaking my head, I neared the Flying Narwhale, slowly enough to take in its ramshackle exterior.
The place looked like what you’d get if you asked children to color ten different versions of Jenga several different colors, then make a structure out of them.
The only thing clear about the original structure was that it’d been wood. Faded red, blue, green and even yellow-tinged wooden slats of all shapes and sizes had been piled atop each other slapdash, evidently to fill in and patch up whichever wood rotted away.
And then there was the fact that the place was on stilts in the middle of the ocean.
C’mon, I’m starving – for food and sense, the voice groaned in me, clearly unimpressed with my behavior of late.
-Yeah, and I’m trying not to get us killed, I snapped back in my head.
Bizarre, the voice said, voice dripping sarcasm, Up to now, everything you’ve done can only be explained by a pervasive death wish.
-If you wanted to, say, go away and never come back, I wouldn’t complain.
Footsteps sounded behind me.
“Guess we better go in,” Demi said, pausing beside me.
“Guess so,” I said, though I didn’t move.
“C’mon, you two,” Kian said, grabbing us both by the hand and pulling us along as she sailed ahead.
Evidently her lipstick application had bolstered her with newfound confidence.
Only a few feet inside, we stopped dead in our tracks. The Flying Narwhale was a pub all right – but it was not a normal pub. Not by a freaking longshot.
There was the clientele, for starters. Half the people looked dressed for Harry Potter/wiccan cosplay – with odd-fabric-ed robes, odder hats (what kind of hat had two points??) and sticks, some in hand, others tucked snuggly in pockets. There were two men in the corner and… I rubbed my eyes – yup, casually poking out the back of their vests were wings.
Ah finally, the voice sighed, and I chose to flat-out ignore it.
“It’s official,” Kian said bluntly. “We’ve lost it.”
“No,” I said. “The world has.”
“Aye? Gaunnae ‘ve a draught or no’?” A man’s thick Scottish brogue assaulted us.
I turned to respond, but when I laid eyes on him, all I could do was stare. His tangled salt and pepper animal beard, where all the hair on his head seemed to have migrated, would’
ve been an odd sight by itself. But that was nothing compared to what his skin was like. The man was… had… barnacles scrabbling over his face, neck, arms and hands included.
“They’re new, Cruestacio,” Axel said from the bar. He waved us over and we tentatively went to stand beside him.
Giving us an appraising look, Axel told the man, “One horned water and three horny toads.”
Before I could even think to ask about the ‘horny toads’ contents, something else caught my attention. A white and orange cat trod delicately across the bar, stopping dead in front of us. It blinked, squawked, then moved on.
“Gully was a gift from me late sister, bless ‘er ‘eart.” Cruestacio was apparently talking about the cat, even though he had his back to us as he produced and combined different bottles and containers of all shapes, sizes and colors with a surprising alacrity.
“An illegal gift,” Axel told us in an undertone as we watched the cat-bird pecking at seeds further down the bartop.
“But why?” Kian asked.
“Casting spells on animals that interfere with their normal processes was outlawed in ‘89.” Axel looked at us like he was explaining this to three-year-olds. “Otherwise… well, sometimes they won’t eat right for their digestive tract, could get themselves killed. Or just mess up the food chain.”
He jerked his chin in the direction of the cat, who’d now installed himself on a nearby table and was pecking at the contents of the double-pointy hat-ed woman’s soup bowl, who shooed it away. “Every other week Cruestacio has to rescue Gully from the sea because the crazy cat thinks he’s an actual gull and tries to fly off.”
“Here y’are.” Cruestacio slapped the drinks down in front of Axel, who slipped some bills his way.
Flipping through them, Cruestacio’s brows wriggled like fat caterpillars. “Haven’t seen you here for a while, A...xel.”
Axel shrugged, sliding another two bills his way. “Been soul-searching. And you still haven’t seen me in a while. Haven’t seen me or my friends at all, in fact.”
One of Cruestacio’s seaweed-colored eyes twitched, then he wafted through the bills again, lifting them to his nose and sniffing. He winked, a merry smile coming over his face. “Aye, that I’ve no’.”