The Rules and Regulations for Mediating Myths & Magic

by F. T. Lukens

  “Did you hear that?”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a cougar!”

  “It sounds like a wolf!”

  The howler slunk to its haunches, ears flattened, paws extended, but it didn’t move, merely watched with its red eyes.

  Bridger dropped his hands, scooped up the book and compact, and shoved them into his bag. He heard Pavel’s muffled voice, but he ignored it in favor of searching for Leo.

  “Bridger!” Leo said, pushing through the crowd to the equipment shack like a salmon swimming upstream. He grabbed Bridger’s arm. “Come on! Let’s get out of here.”

  “What’s going on?” Bridger asked, feigning ignorance.

  “Some kind of animal. Coach said to get to safety. Let’s go!”

  Bridger allowed himself to be pulled toward Leo’s car, jogging to keep up with Leo’s panicked strides. His grip on Bridger’s elbow was strong, warm, and proprietary. They neared the car, a gray sedan, a definite mom-car, and Leo unlocked the door with the key fob he fished from his equipment bag.

  Bridger jumped into the passenger seat and, while Leo threw his football stuff into the trunk, Bridger pulled out the mirror.

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he whispered to Nia, who hovered, a shower of purple, perturbed sparkles. He closed the mirror shut and threw it in the bag as Leo slid in.

  “Holy crap,” Leo said. His chest heaved and his dark, sweaty hair clung to his forehead. His hands shook as he put the key in the ignition and gripped the steering wheel. “Did you hear that?”

  “Yeah. Creepy.”

  Leo clutched his phone and started scrolling through texts. “Zeke says the cheerleaders saw it and said it was a big cat. But John on the track team says it was a dog. Amber says there are no cougars in Michigan and it could’ve been an elk. Did it sound like an elk to you?”

  “I can honestly say I’ve never had the pleasure to hear an elk bugle.”

  “Bugle? Is that what they do? How did you know that?”

  “Jeopardy. I’m quite the fan. I wasn’t kidding when I told you that.”

  Leo shook his head. The notification pings of text messages were rapid fire. Leo read them and texted a few friends back; his fingers flew over the screen.

  Bridger craned his neck and bent over. Leo smelled good despite having worked out for the past hour. His warmth was a welcome comfort. “You know a lot of people.” Understatement. Half the senior class was sending him messages.

  Why Leo had chosen Bridger as his potential boyfriend was beyond him. He wasn’t questioning it, though. He was not looking a gift horse in the mouth. If he was a character in a movie, he’d be citizen of Troy number three.

  Leo smiled, huffing out a laugh. “Yeah. I do.”

  Bridger glanced at his own phone. He had no texts or calls. He looked for Astrid and caught a glimpse of her blue hair inside another person’s car. At least she was okay. She hadn’t answered his text, but there had just been a wild animal sighting near the athletics fields. He’d give her a pass.

  “So, I guess I should drive you to work, huh? I doubt they’ll let us back out there until after animal control takes a look.”

  “Yeah.” Bridger clicked his seatbelt and that’s when he realized he was in a car alone with Leo and he had asserted to himself less than an hour ago that he was going to ask him to Homecoming. He fidgeted, pulled at the strings of his hoodie, and tapped his feet on the floorboard. He opened his mouth, but Leo cut him off.

  “How are you not more freaked out?” Leo asked. “I’m freaked. And you’re calm.”

  Not as calm as he looked. “Oh, well, you know, almost drowned earlier in the year. It takes more to rattle me now. I’ve grown.”

  Leo laughed. He took Bridger’s hand and held it as he pulled out of his parking spot. “Well, hold my hand and comfort me.”

  Bridger blushed, laced his fingers with Leo’s, and marveled at the casual touch. “Yeah, okay, I can do that.”

  The drive to the house wasn’t long at all compared to Bridger’s usual bus ride. They spent half the time talking, with Leo throwing out random guesses about the sound and Bridger deflecting. The rest of the time they listened to music in companionable silence. They didn’t talk about Homecoming, and Bridger chickened out. Maybe he could do it via text. That might be less nerve-wracking. Or never. He could live with never.

  Leo pulled up in front of the house; his phone calmly announced they had arrived at their destination.

  “Is it right?” Leo said, staring at the architectural monstrosity. “This is where you work?”

  “Yep,” Bridger said, reluctantly releasing Leo’s hand. He gathered his things. “It’s seriously not as creepy at it looks.” It’s creepier. “Thanks for the ride. It was way better than taking the city bus.”

  Bridger exited the car and was surprised to see Leo get out as well. Leo hopped onto the curb and waited.

  “You honestly don’t have to walk me to the door.” Because he couldn’t. It wouldn’t open for Leo. A substitute mailman had bounced off the ward the other day when he’d tried to slide mail through the slot. It had been both hilarious and awe-inspiring to see the guy fall backward onto his butt from the force of the protective shield.

  “Who says I’m walking you? I want to see the inside of this place,” Leo said with a grin.

  “Oh, well, my boss, he doesn’t really like people coming in that aren’t supposed—”

  Leo tapped Bridger lightly on the shoulder. “Tag, you’re it!” He took off running up the sidewalk.

  Bridger had no hope that he would catch him, but he tried anyway. He didn’t look forward to explaining, however falsely, about the door.

  As Leo reached for the handle, Bridger winced, waiting for the inevitable shock of light and the thud of Leo falling backward.

  Leo touched the handle.

  The door swung inward.

  Leo bounded across the threshold.

  Bridger followed, mouth open, and met the wide-eyed stares of Pavel and Elena, as Leo waltzed in, none the wiser. Maybe the magic was off? But no, Bridger experienced the usual tingle over his skin.

  Leo had walked in. Leo had crossed the threshold. Leo was a myth. Leo was a myth.

  Holy shit.

  Bridger kept his freak-out to himself, but it was a hard thing.

  He exchanged anxious looks with Pavel and mouthed a few expletives behind Leo’s back. Elena arched an eyebrow; her dark lips quirked into a smirk. Pavel’s eyes went wide as platters.

  “Whoa,” Leo said, looking around. “This place is awesome.”

  “Whoa, indeed.” Pavel’s expression was a mixture of curiosity and concern. At least he had controlled any apprehension. “Hello, again.”

  “Oh, hi,” Leo greeted brightly. He shook Pavel’s hand. “Nice to see you again, sir.”

  Bridger reeled. He dropped his bag at his feet and gestured weakly between Leo and the group of surprised adults.

  “Leo, this is my boss, Pavel, who you’ve met. And, uh, Elena. And over there is Mindy. She’s a chatterbox.” Mindy clicked her pen, used the end to scratch a spot in her beehive of hair, and didn’t look up from her word search.

  Elena flicked her long, luxurious brown hair over her shoulder and eyed Leo with interest. She lifted her nose and inhaled. Her tongue flicked over her lips, and she put a hand on her hip. Her blood-red nails were in sharp contrast against the emerald green of her dress. The movement sent Bridger’s blood alight, and Elena flashed a smile in his direction. He went weak-kneed.

  Leo didn’t seem to notice Elena at all. He seemed more interested in the paintings on the wall and the vaulted ceiling and the staircase that climbed up and up and up.

  “I’m sorry for bursting in. But I had to get a look inside this place. It’s amazing.”

  Pavel gave Leo a tight smile. “
It is. I quite like it.”

  Bridger ducked his head. Leo’s shoe was untied.

  “Oh, hey, better get that before you trip.”

  Leo looked down. “Oh, yeah.” He knelt, and Pavel and Bridger had a quiet, yet vehement, discussion over Leo’s head. It boiled down to how in all the worlds was Leo able to walk through the door?

  Leo stood; his medallion was a silver circle on his chest, and Pavel’s gaze zeroed in on the jewelry.

  “Beautiful necklace.”

  “A Saint Christopher medal,” Leo said, fingering the medallion before dropping it back through the collar of his shirt.

  “Patron saint of travelers.”

  “Yeah, this old guy in the airport gave it to me before we left Puerto Rico. He told me it would protect me on my journey.” Leo shrugged. “I heard lots of athletes wear them.”

  Weird. Not that Bridger was going to comment. His brain hadn’t made it that far. He was still stuck on the fact that Leo walked through the door.

  Pavel’s brow furrowed. “That’s interesting.”

  “Yeah. I’ve taken a few hard hits on the team, but, so far, no injuries. I guess it works.”

  Pavel smiled tightly. “Very interesting.”

  There was an awkward pause during which Bridger was at a loss and Pavel seemed to be mulling something over.

  Bridger cleared his throat.

  “Oh, yes, if you step over there, you’ll find the library Bridger has been working on.”

  “Oh, cool. Thanks.” Leo shot Bridger a wide, proud grin, then ducked through the door to the adjoining room. Bridger heard him sneeze.

  He began to follow, but Pavel grabbed his arm.

  “What is going on?” he asked in a harsh whisper.

  “I don’t know!” Bridger flailed. “Is the door working?”

  “Of course it’s working. What is he?”

  “What do you mean what?”

  Elena studied her nails. “He smells like power and light.” She wrinkled her nose. “And teenage boy.”

  “He came in the door, Bridger. He couldn’t do that unless he left from it or unless—”

  Bridger swallowed around a tight throat. Pavel was confirming his fear. “He’s a myth.”

  It made sense: his athletic prowess, his magnetic personality, the way people flocked to him, the way his body moved, the way he smelled, the way his touch was electric and sent shivers down Bridger’s spine, his sincerity, his innate kindness. Was that why Bridger was infatuated with him?

  Frowning, Bridger bit his lip. “I don’t know what he is. He hasn’t given any indication that he is one.”

  Pavel read the uncertainty and distress in Bridger’s features, and his expression softened. He patted Bridger’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. Later.”

  Leo bounded out of the library, exuberant. “Wow, Bridger, there are actual scrolls in there. How cool is that?” He threw an arm around Bridger’s shoulder and squeezed. “Thanks for letting me drop in.”

  Bridger melted into the embrace. “No problem. Thanks for the ride.”

  “Maybe next time I can go upstairs.”

  “Oh, I don’t—”

  “Yes, possibly. But I do need Bridger to focus on work now. I have important tasks for him to complete that are time sensitive.”

  Leo smiled warmly. “I’ll get out of your hair.” He bent close to Bridger’s cheek but, glancing at the adults in the room, checked himself. His breath skirted Bridger’s ear, then he pulled back and slapped Bridger on the back. “See you at school tomorrow.”

  “Yep. At school. Bye, Leo.”

  Leo waved over his shoulder and left via the door. It closed behind him, and Bridger let out a breath.

  “So he’s the one you lust after?” Pavel asked.

  Elena snorted.

  Bridger scowled. “Thanks for that, Pavel. I’ll keep it in mind next time I feel compelled to tell you anything. At least you didn’t say it in front of him.”

  “Oh, he lusts after you, too,” Elena said, smiling wide. “You two are a bouquet of hormones.”

  “I hate you and I don’t even know you.”

  Elena laughed, her hand looked delicate against her throat.

  Bridger hated that his pulse raced.

  “As much fun as this is, I have places to be.”

  “Yeah, don’t you have a road in Wisconsin to terrorize?”

  Elena narrowed her eyes. “No, but I do have a girlfriend to meet for a date. And I need to drink my aconite potion beforehand. So, if you’ll excuse me.” She gave Pavel a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She wiped her lipstick from his cheek with her thumb and stalked to the door.

  Bridger’s heart stuttered.

  “You’re ridiculous,” Pavel said with a smile. “But don’t worry. It’s part of her werewolf charm. You’ll become immune eventually.”

  “I hope so.” Bridger gulped. “Do you think that’s why I’m attracted to Leo? Because he’s… something?”

  Pavel shook his head. “No. I think you’re attracted to Leo because he’s cute.”

  Blowing out a breath, Bridger nodded. “Okay.”

  “Come on. Let’s have tea. I also want to look at the board. Another myth in the area is cause for updating what we know.”

  In Pavel’s study, Bran stirred Bridger’s tea with a spoon, as Nia fluttered around, sparkles flying everywhere and dissolving as they hit the floor.

  “Never hang up the mirror on me again, young man,” she said, waving a finger in his face. Her wings were a flurry. “That was the Ozark Howler, and it could have ripped you to shreds.”

  “Pavel said I was safe.”

  “Until twilight!” She fluttered closer, and Bridger’s eyes crossed. She flicked his forehead.

  “Ow!” It hurt like a bee sting. He rubbed the spot. “What was that for?”

  Bran huffed. “You don’t have the magic of protection a full intermediary does. You don’t have the command in your voice. You are neither indestructible nor immortal. In other terms, don’t do stupid things, human.”

  “Hey, I already have a mother, so you two can stop at any time.”

  Nia looked affronted. Bran stopped stirring and flew away as if Bridger had insulted him. Nia balled her tiny fists and shook; glitter spilled everywhere.

  “You owe me so much butter!”

  She flew into the bird cage. She slammed the tiny door closed and pull down the shade.

  Pavel came over and swept back the curtains hiding the board.

  “What was that about?”

  “You insulted them.”

  “How?”

  Pavel picked up a notecard and wrote Leo’s name on it in big block letters and a question mark. He pinned it to the board and stepped back, head tilted, surveying the intricate mess of information.

  “The pixies’ main purpose is to provide companionship, information, and care to the intermediary team. It’s their job. Even if they moan about it constantly.”

  Oh. Oops. “They’re your family.”

  “Yes. Now—” Pavel pointed to the card about the mermaids. “—Leo was at this event, wasn’t he?”

  “Yeah. He was at the beach that day. He dove in with you to pull me out.”

  Bridger stepped forward and looked at the chain of events. He tapped the Ozark Howler card. “He was on the football field during this too.”

  “And he was at the Commons when the unicorn was loose?”

  Worry began to gnaw at Bridger’s stomach. Leo was there at the unicorn sighting. That was three events. “Yeah, he was.”

  But there were so many other happenings. He couldn’t have been at all of them. Could he?

  Bridger trailed his gaze across the board and found the first event—the ghost who had appeared at the end of July. He gently touched the card. “Hey, Pa
vel? Do you know the date this happened?”

  “Oh yes, it’s on the graph. Why?”

  Bridger read the date. He knew that date. He knew it because that was the day Leo had mowed his lawn shirtless, the day after they had moved into the house across the street. The day Bridger had texted Astrid about his momentous realization.

  “Oh, no.”

  Chapter 10

  Leo had moved to Midden the day before a ghost, transported from her haunt in Pennsylvania, appeared in the middle of a crowded mall to become part of the myth community of the northern Midwest. Leo had been present when mermaids pulled Bridger under. He’d been in the area when Bridger unsuccessfully tried to tame a unicorn. Leo’d walked through a warded door which only allowed myths to pass through. Leo had been on the field while the Ozark Howler—an omen of death—stalked the tree line. What if Leo was from the demon branch of the myth family tree?

  “It could all be a coincidence,” Pavel said. “Myths tend to congregate, even when they’re not veering from their cycles.”

  “I appreciate your attempt at glass-half-full, but we both know he’s connected in some way.”

  Pavel shrugged. “Potentially.”

  Bridger flipped through his book, thumbing the old parchment pages, stopping on possible classifications.

  “Vampire?”

  Pavel shook his head. “Despite current popular culture conventions, vampires do in fact explode in sunlight. It’s quite messy and involves entrails.”

  Bridger shuddered. “First—good job on the attempt to catch up on current affairs but you’re still about a decade behind. Second—ew.”

  “You have no idea the amount of research I have put into keeping up with the things you say.”

  Bridger smiled, despite everything. “Incubus?”