: Chapter 3
Fury Frayed
I let myself in through the back door and wandered around the house. Other than the TV, there wasnât much to do. So I binge-watched shows through the rest of the day, made myself dinner, and went to bed early.
The next morning, no plate waited for me on the table. I didnât let that bother me as I poured myself a bowl of cereal and moseyed to the living room for more TV time. Another day of no responsibilities and no school sounded like heaven. However, knowing that sitting around for too long would start to get under my skin, I eventually got off the couch and went in search of a more physical activity.
By dinner, Iâd washed all the windows in the house in my desperation for something to do. The layer of grime that had kept a good portion of the daylight out had taken a fair amount of work to remove. Work that Iâd needed. The results made the house feel less depressing. However, the clear view of nothing but towering pines outside my bedroom window didnât really inspire any happy thoughts. I was still alone and wondering how long it would take my mom to get over her anger.
Through the branches of the pines, a distant glow on the horizon caught my attention before I left the room. Town. I stared at the light like a moth to a bug zapper, drawn but knowing it would only cause pain. Thatâs where my similarities with the moth ended. Going to town wouldnât result in my pain but someone elseâs.
After running into Dudley Do Right twice, I knew I should avoid any situation that might lead me to trouble. My tendency to get into trouble was the whole reason Mom moved us here and took off, after all. Getting into more wouldnât bring her back any quicker. But, I couldnât hide in this house, waiting forever, could I?
Not giving myself time to second guess my decision, I changed out of my dusty clothes, washed my face, and put on my jacket. Outside, I tipped my face to the light of the full moon and breathed deeply. The cool night air kissed my skin and eased some of the tension that had taken hold of my heart the moment Iâd read Momâs note.
âSheâll be back, right?â I asked, softly.
The moon didnât answer.
Before I looked away, something large and dark flew across the sky. I shivered and blinked. What Iâd thought Iâd seen was already gone.
âCountry living is making me crazy,â I said to myself since I was sure Iâd just seen something that couldnât possibly exist. Something with wings large enough to block out the light of the moon. Something with four legs, not two.
The shape appeared in the sky again then dove into the pines to my right. Branches snapped as it landed.
Not a minute later, a naked man, close to my age, walked out of the trees. Blonde hair and dark eyes glinted in the moonlight, along with a whole hell of a lot of beautifully tanned skin. I forced my gaze to stay above the shoulders no matter how much my curiosity was demanding it dip below the waist.
As he strode toward me, the remnants of his wings disappeared behind his back.
This was, by far, the weirdest and best dream Iâd ever had. I just wished I could remember falling asleep. Iâd probably passed out because of the fumes from cleaning the windows and boredom.
âYouâre not real,â I breathed. Yet, despite the fact that he stood there naked as a baby and had only minutes ago sported massive wings, talons, and a beak, something about him seemed very real.
âFenris said you seemed naive. Aubrey thought it was an act.â His gaze swept over my face. âWhich is it?â
The mocking curiosity in his eyes annoyed me as much as the fact that he actually seemed to be waiting for an answer. Instead of replying, I balled up my fist and slammed it into his face. He grunted, his head moving slightly with the impact, and he caught my wrist before I could fully pull back.
âWhat was that for?â he asked. Anger had wiped out any hint of mocking curiosity from his tone.
I could also feel the throb in my fist. He had a hard nose.
âTo see if you were real.â
âMost people pinch.â He sounded a bit more nasally than he had before.
My imagination was sure good at adding the little details needed to make this all feel real. I didnât let it distract me from the moment, though.
âMost people donât walk around in someone elseâs backyard while butt naked.â Not that I actually minded that part. His biceps were clearly defined, and his thighs were thicker than my head. Realizing where my gaze had wandered, I quickly looked up again.
He shook his head and released my wrist.
âWhere were you going?â he asked.
âTo town. Do you own pants?â
âIt would be better if you stayed here.â
âFor who?â
âYou.â
âStay in a house where a guy shows up naked in the backyard? Yeah, thatâs not sounding like a good option.â
âItâs the safest one.â
âOf course you would think that. But since this is my dream, Iâm going to see how many more naked men are frolicking around this place.â
He stayed quiet for a moment, studying me. I was just about to turn and walk to the front of the house when he spoke again.
âThe people in this town are going to eat you up and spit you out.â
Without warning, he scooped me up and walked into the house with me. In the light of the kitchen, I studied his face. He looked mad, his jaw hard and a frown tugging his lips. Very nice lips. High cheekbones and a strong nose. His gaze flicked down to me just before he started up the stairs. Deep blue eyes. I had amazing taste in dream men.
When he turned to my room, my heart skipped a beat. Was I really going to dream this? A naked man carrying me to bed? I knew where this was headed.
âI think this needs to stop here,â I said.
âOh, it will.â
He tossed me so hard, I landed on the mattress with a double bounce.
âIf youâre smart, youâll stay. Youâve been warned.â
By the time I looked up, I only caught a glimpse of his bare backside. Flopping back down onto the mattress, I closed my eyes and forced myself to relax, the only way I could think of to wake up from a dream.
I woke up, not in a pile of used paper towels and high on cleaner, but in my bed, dressed as Iâd been to go to town. Frowning, I sat up, rubbed my face and looked at the daylight pouring in through my window.
There was no way that had been real. Obviously, Iâd finished the windows and changed with the intent to go to town, but Iâd laid down, instead, and just couldnât remember that part. The stress of the idea that my mom actually abandoned me had probably caused some kind of weird mental snap where my dream had replaced those real events.
But to dream a griffin, of all things? I could totally understand why the dream man had mentioned Fenris. In the little bit of time Iâd spent with him, Iâd actually liked Fenris. No doubt, thatâs the same reason his dogâs name had made a cameo in my dream, too.
Yet, I couldnât shake just how real the dream had felt. The way the dream man had looked at me when heâd carried me upstairsâ¦
My stomach churned with that same âoh-ohâ sensation I got whenever I had to tell Mom Iâd gotten into yet another fight. I didnât think it was because Iâd punched the dream man, though. Heâd been annoyed by it but not really hurt.
Thinking of Mom, I got out of bed and checked the other bedroom upstairs. Nothing looked changed, and my anger with her started to outweigh the hurt. So Iâd gotten into a fight. Sheâd raised me. I always got into fights. Taking off like she had wasnât cool.
I turned away and went downstairs. A nice, long shower helped the weirdness of the dream fade.
Feeling a little better, I made a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast and sat down at the table. Alone. Before I could stop myself, I wondered what Mom was doing. Did she miss me? Probably not. I wasnât the easiest person to get along with. Even though sheâd ditched me, I missed her. How messed up was that?
Suddenly the eggs didnât look as good. I sat there and wondered why I was playing along. Why stay here? I was almost eighteen. Okay, not really. I still had six months. But still, why stay?
I stood, went to the kitchen drawer, and grabbed the checkbook the note had mentioned. The register showed fifty thousand dollars. I snorted and rolled my eyes, doubting the number was real. Hopefully, thereâd be at least five hundred in there, or at least enough for a night in a motel while I hoofed it back to our old place. I didnât doubt for a second that Mom was either still there packing or having alone-time with Darren.
Tucking the checkbook into my back pocket, I quickly devoured my breakfast then took care of the house. Once I had the trash out and everything put away or closed up, I shrugged into my jacket and stepped outside.
Early morning light shifted through the trees as I walked down the road heading out of town. After paying better attention during the car ride home yesterday, I knew where to turn. Before long the twisty roads opened up to a long stretch of nearly treeless pavement ahead.
Smiling to myself, I imagined Momâs reaction when I showed up at her front door. Iâd tell her that I was done playing her stupid game and that sheâd need to Mom up for a few months before Iâd be out of her life for good, like she obviously wanted.
Lost in my thoughts, I didnât notice the waver that looked like ripples of heat rising off a summer-baked blacktop. I did notice, though, when the hair on my arms stood at attention. My pace slowed. Not because I wanted it to but because my legs grew so heavy that each step took a considerable amount of effort.
âWhat the hell?â I muttered, looking down at my feet.
Due to the direction of my gaze, I didnât see how close Iâd gotten to the weird waves until a bright light flared and sent me flying backward. I landed hard on the pavement, my head connecting with a hollow thud.
I didnât know how long I laid there, but the bitter smell of burnt hair and the taste of blood in my mouth roused me. I opened my eyes and blinked up at the clear blue sky above. It took a second to recall why I lay on my back in the middle of the road.
Given the stench filling my nose, I sat up and patted my head in panic then exhaled heavily when I felt a full head of hair.
âIt doesnât actually burn anything,â a voice said from beside me. âJust smells like it.â
I turned my head and found the man from my dreams squatted down nearby. This time, he wore jeans. My eyes still feasted on his broad bare chest, though, as my scattered thoughts tried to form an explanation for what was happening.
How could I have dreamed an actual person? I doubted I had psychic abilities. If I did, I would have seen myself getting knocked on my ass. And, I doubted Iâd seen him somewhere around town because I hadnât left my house. Even as I thought it, I recalled stepping out the back door in my dream and how he, a winged creature, had swooped down and stepped out of the shadows as a man.
There was only one answer. He still didnât exist. The fall had caused me to hit my head harder than I thought, and he was now the result of a concussion.
Sunlight glinted off his blond hair, clearly defining strands in vivid detail. Detail I couldnât possibly dream up.
âThis isnât real,â I whispered with growing desperation.
âNot that again.â He stood and leaned down to offer me a hand, which I ignored. As soon as I got to my feet, he took a step back.
âIf you feel the need to test reality, pinch your arm,â he said.
I shook my head, not to answer him but in denial of the whole thing. However, the strength of my denial faltered when I looked down the road and saw the shimmering waves.
âI wouldnât try it again. In fact, if you were smart, you would start running through the trees to get home before Trammer reaches the barrier.â I tore my gaze from the waves in time to see my dream man nod toward the woods to the left.
I understood what he was telling me. Run before I get caught. But caught for what?
âBarrier?â I asked.
âYeah. You really have no clue, do you?â He sighed. âParents do that sometimes. Keep us in the dark then ditch us. Do yourself a favor and run home. Donât try to leave again. No one leaves until they prove they can handle themselves around the humans.â
I opened my mouth to ask what the hell he was talking about when I caught the sound of an engine. His warning about Trammer echoed in my mind. I couldnât afford another run-in with the police. Without waiting, I sprinted into the trees.
âSmart girl,â he called from behind.
His high-handed superiority was starting to annoy me.
The thought had barely formed when I heard a huge whoosh behind me. The heavy beat of wings had me looking up as I ran further into the trees. Through the multi-colored canopy, I saw the creature soaring above. It flew in the direction I was headed, its speed quickly making it disappear from sight.
He was real? It was real?
The sound of the engine quickly faded. I didnât slow. I was freaking out too much. As I wove through the trees, my mind raced. What was really real? All of it? Where had my mom brought me? As much as I wanted to think the hit to my head was the cause of the big griffin flying above, doubt kept me from believing it. I hadnât hit my head last night.
Not more than a minute after the thing disappeared, it circled into view again and repeated the path as if pointing the direction. I veered slightly to the left. It made a deep sound like a rumble of thunder and swooped lower toward the trees before turning again. It circled back around and repeated the move until I corrected my course.
Yep. Definitely leading the way. I was so preoccupied watching the sky that I didnât at first know where I was when I burst through the trees into a clearing. The hacked-up lawn gave it away before the house or leaning shed. While I looked around, wondering where to run next, the griffin circled once then took off toward town. Staying where I was became the safer option.
I quickly let myself in and locked the door. The back of my skull throbbed, and I still tasted blood.
âWhat the hell is this place?â
I had no answer and no one I trusted to ask. At that moment, I hated my mom. But, I hated myself more. If I could have just learned to control my temper, none of this would have happened. I would still be back home, where I belonged, not in this crazy town.
The computer on the table caught my eye. I sat down and booted it up before tapping out a quick search of Uttira, Maine. A page of the townâs activities, which included an upcoming Fall Festival and a reminder to be neat and orderly citizens, pretty much summed up the message on the townâs pathetic website. It wasnât any more helpful than the stupid pamphlet Iâd gotten the day before.
Giving in to the growing headache, I kicked off my shoes, shed my jacket, and went to the bathroom cabinet to take two pain relievers. Thinking to add to the numbing effects, I ambled to the living room and turned on the TV.
Before I could even get comfortable on the couch, the doorbell rang. I cursed myself for forgetting to rip it from the siding. It rang a second time just as I reached the entry.
I yanked the door open, already scowling. My temper frayed further at the sight of Trammer.
âGoing somewhere, Megan?â
I looked pointedly at my bare feet before meeting his gaze.
âYeah, the beach.â
He narrowed his eyes.
âStay where you belong or weâre going to have problems. Do you understand?â
âThat you like harassing minors for no apparent reason? Yeah. I understand. If thatâs all, Iâd like to get back to my nineties re-runs.â
I slammed the door in his face, too angry to care about the consequences. I didnât belong here, and we both knew it.