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Fall Thru Ch. 01

By: sensanin



Note: If you read the Bookkeeper of Ramous chapter, this is the same story but fleshed out and developed. 

*** 

I was fucked. Not in the sexual sense, but in the life-has-thrown-me-a-curveball sense. 

I waved at the black scaly serpent in front of me thinking that it was one hell of a costume. I couldn't even see the seams. "Hello. I'm looking for two boys. One's wearing a yellow cape and—" 

It chittered, scales clicking. 

Had to hand it to whoever was in the suit, they were really playing up the part. I ran a hand through my dark brown rat's nest bun. I needed to get back home and shower. Maybe have a shot—I glanced at the serpent again—definitely have a shot. 

My eyes moved from black scales to gold floors that looked slippery and shiny. They reflected the white crown molding of the ceiling, which was not nearly as tall as the convention center housing the 2015 Comic Convention. I decided that I'd just slipped into one of the V.I.P. rooms in one of the hotels attached to the building. There had to be one, though I hadn't seen any hotel that close. I just couldn't believe the photo booth I'd stumbled into while chasing Brandon transported me to— 

I didn't say it. Didn't dare think it. This was the LA Convention Center, and I was still at Comic Con. Brandon and his little friend James were going to hop out and yell, "Gotcha!" any second now. Any second. 

Seconds faded into minutes, and still no fourteen year-old boys jumped out to laugh at me. The fear burning its way up my throat laced with the digested Big Mac I'd had for breakfast didn't help the situation. 

The scaled serpent chittered again, tail swiping across the floor to my outstretched legs. I yanked them to me and wrapped my arms around them, resting my forehead on my bent knees. 

I went back in my memory, trying to pinpoint the exact moment I lost my mind. I woke up at four, brushed my teeth, dressed. Woke Brandon up. Made coffee. Begrudged the fact that I agreed to drive the boys to a convention when I should have been studying for my midterms. Put the coffee down, cracked open one of the books still scattered on the dining room table, and studied. Brandon came out of his room later in a yellow cape, black mask, green tights, and red leotard with a giant R across his left breast pocket. 

"Who are you supposed to be?" I asked. 

He frowned. "Robin from Teen Titans." 

I grimaced. It was one of the shows he made me watch. I was his nanny, but sometimes I felt more like his prisoner. I was also his family's go-to gal for last minute changes. Which was how I ended up driving Brandon to a comic book convention at the asscrack of dawn—Mr. and Mrs. Lerou had been called to a last minute award ceremony in London. A hefty bump in salary ensured I drove the boys and picked them up, so here I was. 

A quick stop at James's house to pick up Robin's sidekick Beast Boy, and then we headed into LA proper. The city was jam-packed and sweltering at seven in the morning, so I stopped at McDonalds to wait out some of the commuters heading into work.  

An hour or so later the traffic had been bearable and we moved turtle-slow to the venue. One outrageously expensive parking ticket later and we were in line with the rest of the superheroes and fantasy characters. I looked out of place in neon pink Disney sweats and a white wife beater, but the black circles under my eyes declared I didn't give a fuck. 

"Do you need me to stay here with you guys?" I asked the boys. 

James wiped a green painted arm across his runny nose. "Nah, we're good." 

I eyed the pair dubiously. Brandon was just starting to grow and was a proud five foot eight, still a few inches shorter than my five foot eleven, and James looked like a Hobbit at five three. They were easy targets with their wide eyes, naive bearing, and limited edition Nikes. 

I shook my head and squinted at the blazing sun. "I'll stay." 

"Then why'd you ask?" James whined. 

"Because I like hearing myself talk," I snapped, feeling less than generous. I had picked him up and driven him without so much as a "Thank you, Tilly." Hell if I was going to be nice to the kid. 

A half hour later we were twenty feet from our original spot and no closer to the entrance. My foot was tapping, arms akimbo, and my hair was itching like crazy. My mind was swinging between, leave them, they'll be fine and you can't leave. You're the nanny and liable for anything that happens to them! 

I blew out a hot breath and kept on tapping. 

Couple more feet and we came to a gypsy-man wannabe. He gestured to the knickknacks laying on a tie-dyed scarf in front of him. "See something you like? Special price, buy two get one free," he said in a thick accent that I bet came from old Dracula movies. 

I rolled my eyes at the ploy and turned back to the sun. It was more interesting. 

"Cool!" Brandon said beside me. "Is that a dream catcher?" 

I turned to the kid, about to tell him that he could get a dream catcher from an actual store and not some fishy dude sitting on a sidewalk, but a glint of silver caught my eye. Laying on the far left on the scarf was a necklace that looked like a dream catcher. I could see why Brandon was interested. There were a bunch of them, all different sizes and shapes. I looked back to the silver one. Inside its web of silver string were multi-colored balls that shined in the sunlight like tiny universes. I reached for it before I could stop my hand. The boys had done the same thing and we each held a different dream catcher in our grasps. 

"That one's special," the gypsy rumbled. "You pay extra." 

I snapped my eyes up to him and glared. "Looks like I'm not gettin—" 

"Come on, Tilly!" Brandon chirped, ruining the haggling battle I'd been seconds away from. "My dad can always give you the money back. I really want it." 

And the son of a multi-millionaire always got what he wanted. "Fine." There was no sense fighting with him or trying to haggle now. "How much?" 

He gave me the number and I blanched. "You're kidding me?" I whipped my head to Brandon and James, flapping my free hand. "Put that down. We're not buying—" 

Brandon handed a wad of cash to the man and pocketed his charm. He turned his head and caught up with a line that hadn't waited for us to make our purchase. 

I gaped after the boy, feeling even poorer. What I wouldn't have given to be able to do that as a kid. Closest I'd ever come to parting with a lot of money easily was a dollar at a lemonade stand. I'd worked my ass off on the spelling quiz to get that dollar too, and for about thirty minutes I'd felt rich. 

The gypsy nodded to the dream catcher necklace still in my hand. "Thank you for your patronage." Suddenly he had an LA accent. Amazing how that happened. 

"Yeah, whatever," I muttered sourly as I dragged my feet to Brandon and James's sides. 

Another uneventful hour and we were finally in the air conditioned convention center. I closed my eyes and melted as the industrial fans blew arctic winds at me. "Magic." 

"Okay, you can go now, Tilly," James announced. 

I snapped my eyes to the boys. "Before I go, there are a few things you need to—Where's Brandon?" 

I stared at the spot Brandon should have been then turned back to James. He raised a shoulder. "Dunno. Bathroom?" 

I rolled my eyes and pointed at him. "You. Stay. Don't move." 

He stuck out a tongue. "You're not my mom." 

I mimicked him. "Don't want to be either. I'm too young to have a fourteen year-old." 

"Aren't you thirty?" 

I gasped and placed a hand to my chest. "Twenty-two. Just, stay here." I turned on my heel, searching for a restroom sign or a yellow cape. "Thirty? I look thirty?" 

I spotted the cape first, billowy material making an escape through the black curtain of an old timey photo booth. I stalked over to the machine and pulled back the curtain. Brandon wasn't sitting taking goofy pictures of himself and I frowned. 

I stepped fully into the machine as if the confined space could house a gawky teenager. The floor shifted, the dream catcher necklace I'd pocketed started to burn a hole through my sweats, and suddenly I was being pulled a million different ways, ripped apart by unseen hands. 

I opened my mouth on a soundless scream as the hands pulled me as far as my skin could go then pushed it back into me, all at once. There was a quick succession of pulling and thrusting back. I fought the hands off and stepped right out of my skin. I turned my neck, looking at a million reflections of myself pulling the exact same move. 

Huh? What the hell is— 

The floor dropped out and I was free falling for a split second before something cool and hard greeted my butt. Nausea climbed up my throat, but I swallowed hard. I hated rollercoasters, and that one had felt like the Hulk at Universal Studios. Last rollercoaster I'd ever been on. 

I swallowed again, eyes closed until my stomach settled back into place. A few seconds later, I opened my eyes and gawked at a giant serpent, upright in front of me. 

I scrapped my forehead against my knees as I replayed every memory and found nothing that made me think I was still at Comic Con. Which meant I was—the words felt sticky and foreign in my mind—somewhere else. 

The chittering from the serpent only confirmed it. 

I groaned, "Alice in Wonderland Sci Fi shit." 

A few minutes later a horde of creatures strode down the hallway toward me and the serpent. It was then that I realized that the thing in front of me had probably been guarding me to make sure I didn't run amok. 

So, I'm not at the convention center anymore. The thought didn't freak me out as much as it should have. I treated the experience like the trip I took to China. 

Single, Black girl walking around the Summer Palace in Beijing hadn't exactly been the most usual thing for the natives. People took pictures of me, and at one point a photographer even followed me around and made me pose with random Chinese people. Instead of getting freaked out and offended or leaving and going back to my hotel, I'd run with it. Sometimes the only thing in life you could do was run with the strange until it became normal. 

I stretched out my legs again, arched my bed, and slowly climbed to my feet. Joints popping, neck stiff, I regarded the group of creatures coming to a slow halt in front of me. The leader, a man with strong feminine features whose hair was longer than mine by a good foot and swayed in yellow waves to his ass, looked the most human. Which was relative to the green dragon lady on his right, the satyr to his left, and the merry band of misfits, fairytale creatures, and Greek mythology myths come true behind him. 

The blond spoke with the smooth notes of someone cultured and used to the finer things in life. If I understood his language, I was sure it would have been very James Bond-esque. 

I shrugged helplessly. "I can't understand you. Sorry." 

He frowned, full peach lips turning down. The look didn't diminish his beauty an inch. High cheek bones, big cornflower blue eyes, lithe ice skater figure. The tight blue cloth wrapped around his body like a better-planned out mummy outfit only enhanced his assets. Muscles, height, and a sizable package. The only things that let me know he wasn't human were the fangs poking out from his upper lip and the slight point to his pale ears. Elf or vampire, maybe a hybrid. I wasn't sure. 

He spoke slowly, clearly, with vocal chords I was pretty sure I didn't possess. I heard every sound, tongue wrapping around letters that I'd never heard a human language use. It seemed to come up from his diaphragm, deep, but flattened out and smoothed over his tongue. It was like metal being worked, bent with each sound. 

The creatures behind him began to talk, voices as hushed as their language allowed. The serpent in front of me twisted its head completely around and joined in. I shivered from head to toe, finding it more and more difficult to go with the flow. 

I thought back to China. Different language, different culture. But if I was able to get here, they had to at least have one human right? Preferably someone who spoke English—er, American English. 

"My name is Tilly," I said carefully, drawing their attention again. "I'm human. American. Does anyone speak English?" I made sure I was much higher at the end, indicating that it was a question. 

Blondie issued something at the green dragon lady next to him. She broke away from the group and went back down the hallway. I grimaced as her clawed toenails and heels scraped the floor. Knobby bones raced up her legs and back, shifting subtly with her long strides. 

I looked back to the Blond and his group, finding the vampire-elf much closer to me than before. I flinched hard when his long-fingered hand brushed me. I hastily crossed my arms over my chest in a giant X. "No touching." 

One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile exposing the full extent of his fangs, much wider and longer than human canines in a mouth with about eight less teeth to accomplish the feat. I'm going with the flow, I reminded myself as he gestured to the hallway he'd come from and said what I assumed was "After you." 

Go further away from the only chunk of floor I knew people from another, uh, place landed on or stay and sit. I remember having a similar dilemma on my way to the nanny interview for Brandon's parents. I was stuck in East Central waiting for a bus that ran on its own special schedule when a man my father's age pulled up and whistled at me. He flirted, and I announced my age. The look of dread that crossed his face made me feel better. 

"That's my daughter's age," he whispered. 

And as he turned back around, ready to drive off, I impulsively asked him to drive me as close to my destination as possible. He reluctantly agreed, telling me I was stupid for getting in a car with a stranger, especially one who hit on me. He fussed and parented me the entire twenty minute drive and then made me promise to never hitchhike again when he dropped me off. I'd promised with fingers crossed behind my back. 

I could wait, see if another human fell through the portal and hopefully spoke American English, or I could take my chances with the monsters. I decided on the latter because . . . well, the unknown was exciting. Not smart, not even well thought out or planned, but damned if it wasn't exhilarating. 

I walked past the blond vampire-elf, and he fell into step beside me. The rubber sole of my boots squeaked on the shiny, marble-ish floor while his cloth covered feet made barely any noise, and the hoard behind us was louder than fireworks on the 4th of July.

Fall Thru Ch. 02



If I had any lingering hope that I was at the convention center still, it was squashed instantly. Marble floors gave way to patterned brick work, and the high ceiling shrunk down to elegant archways with geometric craftwork inlayed in the stone. Sunlight streamed in on all sides as the walls faded away, replaced by a fragrant garden with vegetation as unique as its curators. 

Oh my freaking god. I stopped, heart racing, and walked to one of thick columns of the archway. 

My jaw dropped. That's a minotaur pruning a flower. The flower's on fire. Is that—I think—Yes, he is putting out the flames with air from his nostrils. 

The sky was a pink, blue, purple haze. Like the colors in a permanent sunset. A bright blue sun, sapphire-colored, hung in the sky. My eyes scanned the fluffy white clouds, the only thing Earthlike on the planet. The giant beige, emerald, and burgundy dragon flying over and settling onto one of the whipped-cream clouds ruined the effect. 

Earth had its wonders, but this placed seemed to be made of nothing but 'em. 

A gentle hand settled on my hip and I turned to Blondie. He looked at me patiently as if he knew I was awestruck. "Is this Earth?" 

Not even sure why I asked the question; he didn't understand me and I didn't understand him. Plus, LA was jungle hot, but this place was balmy, laying on the beach weather. The temperature was different, the environment had changed, and the inhabitants looked like movie monster extras. 

Blondie said nothing. He nudged me with his hand and I pulled away from the column, continuing our walk. Patterned brick faded again, seamlessly giving way to the marble I recognized. We were back in the hallway—well, not the exact one if the blown up noir-esque photos had anything to say about it. 

I looked behind me, maneuvering my eyes through tails, claws, feet, and . . . not feet. Reflected on the divide of brick and marble was a shimmering barrier that looked like scattered pixie dust. I turned back around when my foot slipped. 

Monsters and magic. Seemed about right. I couldn't go to a world with E.T. style aliens, I went to one with magic and elves. At Comic-Con no less. "Oh, the irony," I moaned as I reached up and scratched my hair. It itched bad, and I wondered about asking Blondie for a room with a shower. I'd been hibernating in my room at the Lerou mansion for almost three days. Redbulls and beef jerky had been the only things keeping me alive. 

I turned my thoughts away from my lack of hygiene and poor diet to the photos lining the hallway. They were all stills, black and white, set in forests and cities I'd never seen. A few looked to be taken from a high place, the buildings smudged slightly like the photographer had been inflight. There were no humans in the photos. 

Blondie navigated us down a hallway away from the photos and the marble gave way to light, bamboo floors, worn and bumpy. This time I was looking for the shimmery demarcation line, and noticed it extended up the walls and to the ceiling, completely allowing the room to transform. 

It was like the building was comprised of Lego blocks masquerading as hallways. Bamboo floors now with swooping sheet-like ceilings with short, silver electric chandeliers every ten feet. Sliding paper doors on my left opened onto a valley with a giant waterfall in the distance and red tents surrounding it. 

I desperately wanted to stop, soak in yet another miracle. You just didn't see things like this on Earth, or if you did they were perfectly captured in National Geographic. The hallway went on longer than the marble one and my legs started to hurt. 

How long have I been walking? I wondered, sloughing beside Blondie. I felt heavier, like I was carrying all my weight plus ten extra pounds. I knew I was crashing, coming down from the adrenaline of falling through time and space and walking with a group of mythical creatures. 

Blondie tapped a finger on my shoulder and I stopped and looked at him sideways. He pointed to a olive green tapestry scattered with random mushroom-things hanging on the wall. I nodded at it, "Mushrooms." 

I bit my lip. God that sounded stupid. 

He lifted a brow, regarded me for a second and then shrugged off whatever he'd been thinking. Blondie reached out and slid the tapestry across the wall on invisible tracks. My eyes widened at the bedroom displayed. The doorway was narrow, the room was not. 

I looked back at the blond. "What is this?" 

He gestured to me and then the room and said two words very slowly. I guessed he said, "Your room." 

I pointed to myself then the room and back to myself. "Mine?" 

He nodded resolutely, though his expression was still vaguely puzzled. His voice rumbled through the hall, making the sheet ceiling move like waves. The black scaly serpent slithered to his slide again. 

The pair spoke for a second, a strange cacophony. I realized that they weren't speaking the same language. Not exactly. Blondie's voice had halting notes, sounds that could stop and start at the tip of his tongue, changing on length, intonation, and formation. The serpent chittered, contradicting the hissing I expected to hear. It sounded more like a bird, long and short whistles between its words. 

Blondie smiled and touched the corner of his mouth with side of his pointer finger, tapping twice. The serpent's scales clicked, rotating around and becoming a pinkish color. It chittered, scales shuffling like cards. The vampire-elf laughed and spun on his heel. He cast me a look over his shoulder, made a gesture for me to go into the room and stay there, and left. 

I watched the horde of monsters walk back down the bamboo hallway and disappear around a corner. I looked up at the serpent whose scales were back to black. The thing looked . . . uh, sullen. 

I crossed my arms and cocked my hip. "I don't want to be here either." 

Arm like appendages peeled out from the scales in a sticky mess, and the serpent mimicked my gesture. Well, at least we understood each other. 

I looked out the sliding paper doors to the village in the valley. How big was this place? What kind of world was this? It had magic and dragons and satyrs, what else did it have? 

I blew out a hot sigh and dragged my feet through the narrow door to the room. It looked like a suite a person might see in Vegas. A giant TV hung above a fireplace on wide side of the room, adjacent two vermillion couches and a dark stained coffee table. I couldn't help wondering if the place got HBO as my eyes continued to wander around. A circular, floating bamboo staircase was on the other side of the room with a mysterious tapestry beside it. I looked up the floating staircase to the landing above, but couldn't see what was on it. I shrugged, stepping fully into the room and letting out a low whistle. 

I turned at the sound of a slither and a woosh of air behind me. I caught a glimpse of black scales before the tapestry moved back into place, shimmered the same iridescent color as the stuff connecting the corridors, then blended into the wall paper like a chameleon. I reached for the place a door should have been, but it was all wall, no seams. 

"Hey!" I yelled, pounding on the textured wallpaper. "Open up!" 

No answer. 

I pounded harder, screaming my head off for them to let me out. Stupid, stupid, Tilly! I berated myself, tears burning hot behind my eyes. I shook my head, refusing to let them fall. It was my own fault. I knew one day my adventurous side was going to get me into trouble. 

I'd been lucky moving from Washington D.C. to LA without a moment's notice. Finding an apartment and a job at the same time. Finally getting my acceptance letter to UCLA's Masters program. Lucky, lucky, lucky. I lived my life with luck in mind. 

Sure there were consequences every so often, a bruise or scar here and there but nothing to deter me. Damn do I wish something had deterred me. 

I swung in a wide circle, searching the room for a window. There were none. 

"Shit, shit, shit," I mumbled, tripping over my feet to get to the other tapestry. 

It slid aside soundlessly, the same way the other one had, and for a brief flicker of a second I thought I'd found a way out. Nope—I stuck my head into the room—I'd found the bathroom. Basin in the middle, shower heads sticking out at angles from a corner, and a toilet thing in the corner with a short pane of frosted glass. 

It looked modern, like the TV and the chandeliers I'd seen. So, the creatures had been to Earth. That was good. It meant they could speak English, right? Some had to. 

I took a few calming breaths in, using the breathing meditation techniques my therapist mother taught. I hated when she sat me on the couch and pointed out my fears and insecurities with the same ease she read a grocery list, but she had her good moments. Teaching me to deal with the stress of finals and life changing decisions with mediation instead of anxiety was one of her best points. 

I stood there for long minutes, listening to my heart, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. After a while I felt better. My bladder chose that moment to demand the bathroom, and then the shower called my name, and . . . . Well, an hour later, wrapped in the same blue cloth as the blond vampire-elf guy, clean, and with hair scented like a candy store, I was doing great. 

Yeah, being kept in a windowless, doorless room wasn't fantastic, but it could be worse. I settled on the cream couch, crossing my legs. The blue towel suit was weird, especially since I'd wrapped it around my body like any normal towel and them it had stretched, wrapping around itself and my hair until it looked like blue bandages on my body. 

I reached for the remote on the coffee table and clicked on the TV. A re-run of Dance Moms flickered to life. 

I looked at the wall where the door should have been and called over my shoulder "Dance Moms is on. Wanna watch it?" 

I doubted the serpent would want to, but it couldn't hurt to ask. And besides, maybe if the thing became my friend it would have less incentive to eat me. A few seconds passed by before the wall shimmered, turning back into the tapestry, and then whooshed aside. 

The point of the serpent's tail waved from the doorway. "Come on in," I invited. 

A brief chitter, which I took as a "Thank you," and then the serpent came into the room and settled on the couch across from me. 

I stared at the open door for a second. There was freedom if I wanted it. I looked back at the serpent who was regarding me with wide black eyes that reflected hints of cobalt in their inky gaze. To run or not to run. I looked back at the TV; Abby was yelling at one of the girls, a brunette child near tears. 

I cast one more glance at the open door, turned to the serpent, shrugged, and settled in for the show. 

Halfway through the third episode of Dance Moms Blondie reappeared sans entourage. Instead, he had two orange and green robed people beside him. They were ridiculously tall and wide, with marshmallow fluffed white hair. Their skin shimmered like the stuff in the hallways and on the door, making me think they'd constructed it. 

I got up from the seat and approached them, serpent dude hot on my heels. Actually, I still wasn't sure if the serpent was a guy or gal, but from the chittering like snorts of the TV show antics I assumed guy. 

The vampire-elf had changed, and was now dressed in a crisp black suit. His collar was opened, revealing pale skin and a light dusting of gold hair. He'd braided his mane of corn in a fishtail and thrown if over his left shoulder. 

I waved at the trio. "Howdy." 

He nodded his head and turned to the people beside him, gesturing from them to me as he spoke. They responded with voices that rumbled like thunder, looked at me, looked back at him and frowned. 

I couldn't tell the creatures' gender. There were no real defining male or female characteristics. Their lines were flat, mouths wide, cheeks plump, and eyes a few centimeters too wide for their faces. 

The other creature spoke, same rumbling thunder voice that was neither high nor deep. I frowned. Am I just going crazy, or does everyone sound different? I swear they aren't speaking the same language. 

Another few minutes of talking and one of the marshmallow-haired creatures turned and glided toward me. I looked down to find feet, but robes covered it. When I raised my head, the creature was in front of me, both hands extended our. One hand wrapped around my throat while the other covered all of my ear and most of my head. 

The thing couldn't have touched me more than five seconds, but it was five freaky seconds. Oh, god, they're going to kill me. It was bound to happen, just a matter of time. 

I raised my hands, and scratched at the creature holding me. Its eyes narrowed, and it hissed. A second later, the hand was gone, leaving a tingly burn in its place. My brain, ears, and throat hurt, like I was hung over. 

I covered my sensitive ears when the serpent chittered beside me. "Not so loud," I whined in a raspy voice. I swallowed hard, but it didn't help the pain. 

"Take this," a cultured voice screamed at me. 

A cold hand brushed my shoulder and I flinched back. "Stop freakin' screaming. It's going to bust an ear—" 

Wait. I looked up, locked eyes with the vampire-elf. "I heard you." 

He smiled, and I think it was supposed to be reassuring, but it wasn't. "I also heard you. And I'm not screaming, your ears are taking a while to adjust." He extended his hand. "Duke." 

I was expecting something hard to pronounce that wasn't like a human name at all. I extended my hand, grasping his. "Matilda. Everyone calls me Tilly." 

We shook hands and I was thrown off by the gesture. It was hard enough to get foreigners to shake hands and recognize it as a Western thing, the fact that he did it automatically only cemented my thoughts that humans were here. "What do you mean my ears? And is there a human I can talk to, like an American one?" 

He shook his head, braid falling behind his back. "No humans here, I'm afraid. However, I studied at Yale in '79 and spent more than five years on Earth. I am accustomed to human habits should you need to speak with someone." 

I was beyond confused, and skating the edge of freaking out. I rubbed my forehead, hang over effects fading away. "Go back, go back. Let's start with how I got here and where here is before we go into anything else." 

The marshmallow-haired people nodded. "Our sentiments exactly."



Fall Thru Ch. 03



A vampire, a serpent, a human, and two mages walk into a room . . . . I'd been trying to finish the joke for the better part of ten minutes. There was one there, I knew it. 

The marshmallow heads were Milan and Rowan. They were mages, though I still wasn't sure what that meant. The pair had been great at explaining the world I was in without being overwhelming: Yes, Tilly, you are in another world. Yes, there is magic in this world. No, you can't hear us because you now have magic powers; you hear us because your ears and mind have tuned to our language, allowing the organs to translate as quickly as you hear. No, Milan and Rowan our not our names exactly, just the English equivalent. 

More shocking was that mages didn't have gender. Milan and Rowan weren't men or women, they just were. 

"So it was the dream catcher," I mumbled sourly as I handed the necklace back to Milan. I liked the piece too. 

"It's not a dream catcher," a mage corrected. I knew it was Milan from the eye discoloration; one eye was blue, the other orange. "It's a portal key. The balls are tiny replicas of our solar system held together with a thread that never ends." 

"Which solar system? The Milky Way?" 

"Narpum Del." Milan pointed to each of the swirling balls hanging on the thread, naming them in turn. "This is Yenos, where we are now. Then Janos and Nagios." 

"Uh, okay." Astrology never was my strong suit. 

I crossed my legs, bumping knees with Duke. I blew out a frustrated breath and wiggled on the cramp furniture. Duke, Cherry, and I sat on one couch, while Milan and Rowan sat on the other. 

Cherry, the serpent who was indeed a male and sounded about as surfer boy California as they came, took up most of the couch. Duke and I were pressed together, his chilled skin against my heated one. 

"So, if I fell through the portal using that key, can't you just give me a reverse key and send me back to Earth?" 

There was an awkward pause before Rowan spoke, thin lips pulling down in the slightest frown. "Today was the last day of the Los Angeles Comic Convention, yes?" 

I nodded. 

"And what time was it supposed to close?" 

"Dunno." 

Milan and Rowan exchanged a glance, and sparks literally flew between the pair. I flinched, not nearly as startled as I'd been the first few times they'd done it. 

Rowan turned back, coughing uncomfortably. "5pm. The portal closed the minute the convention ended." 

"Well, when will it open again?" 

Rowan held silent, and Milan took up the conversation. "A year." 

I shot to my feet. "What?" I shook my head. "No, no, no, no, no. See, I have school—midterms! And I'm a nanny. I mean, I left Brandon and James at the convention and I'm sure the Lerous fired me already. But if they didn't, I still have a shot. And stuff, and a life, and I—I just need to know when the next portal opens." 

Comic-cons went on all year round. I knew that for a fact. So they had have more portals. 

"We have a deal with the humans—specifically the American government," Milan continued. "We are allowed passage once a year at a neutral site selected by the government. We plan this trip all year around, coordinating with them on the specifics."  

That would explain all the technology. "So you have electricity, and access to Earth's resources." 

"We do not have the resources you think we have. Our people bring pre-recorded videos back with them from Earth, and the electricity is our own from underwater windmills controlled by the merfolk. Some have gone to Earth to help humans in the same endeavour." 

I wasn't going to touch the "mermaids do exist" thing with a ten foot pole. I navigated around it. "Call the president then. Tell him one of his citizens is trapped in your world and that she needs to get back." 

Another sparking glance between the pair, and Rowan joined back in the conversation. "We have. It is why it took us so long to come to you, we were in negotiations." 

"And?" 

"It's harder than you think to traverse universes, Matilda. Even if he had given his approval, it is unlikely we would have been able to get you back." 

"Super," I mumbled pacing. "What about a spaceship or something. Can't I take one of those?" 

Cherry snorted. "You'd die before you got there." 

I whipped by head to the serpent thrown off by his voice. When I heard it in English, translated through magic and whatever else to my ears, it was pre-pubescent high. It totally contradicted with the hulking mass he was. 

No space ship. No portal. What else was there? 

"I have a life," I groaned, stomping my towel-covered feet across the floor. "My mom and my three brothers and my dad. My job and my school and my friends. What's going to happen to my fish?" I wailed. 

Duke pushed to his feet and strode over to me. He grabbed my arms and spun me around to him. "I have a phone you can borrow to call your job and family. You can make all the arrangements, but the fact remains that you will be here for a year." 

He wasn't exactly making me feel better. "But why? Why me?" I was Normal with a capital N. I may have had some interesting adventures growing up, but those were few and far between. There was nothing—nothing about me to suggest I should be transported to another world. 

I knew who my father was, and who his father was, and who his father was before him. I could trace my lineage back almost to the source. Same with my mom. I wasn't in any experimental group, taking weird drugs (that I knew of), or signed up for a Top Secret programs. My friends weren't strange, didn't talk about other worlds or stuff like that. We gabbed, bitched, and laughed about teachers and classmates we'd fuck, marry, or kill. 

I shrugged off his hands and squatted down, a childhood coping mechanism. Make yourself small and your problems become small. Small problems, small problems. I was on another planet. But it had water, TV, toilets, and nice people. Uh, nice so far. I couldn't return to Earth for a year. More time to study for my midterm— 

I barked out a laugh and covered the sound with my hand. 

—More time to figure out what I want to do with my life. And I could like it, I didn't know. I wouldn't be able to see my family. But I could talk to them everyday. Maybe I could Facetime or Skype them. 

Suddenly, all my large problems—which actually were big deals—grew manageable. The fear, the uncertainty, the despair I felt ebbed away. If my father could survive the Nigerian Civil War, my mother growing up in Buttfuck nowhere Ohio, and survive having a gun pointed at me in Egypt, living on Yenos should be no problem. 

I uncurled from my ball, feeling as steady as I could on a rocking boat. "Where am I going to stay?" I asked, looking at Duke. 

He answered smoothly, "Here, if you like. In this room." 

"Okay." I cast another quick glance around. "I like it. I could do it. Uh, thank you." 

He smiled. Again, I think he was going for reassuring but the big ass, werewolf-ish fangs ruined it. "My pleasure." 

I turned to Milan and Rowan. "What am I going to do? I can't just sit on my butt all day, and my major doesn't offer any online classes." Women's Studies was an inter-personal thing. 

"Whatever you would like as long as it didn't disturb the order of this world," Milan responded. 

"Mm-hmm." 

A year. One very long year in a world that had no humans. I could do that. I blew out a sigh and ran a hand through my hair. Maybe not, but I'm gonna have to.



Fall Thru Ch. 04



"If you're not going to eat that, give it here," Fever, Cherry's girlfriend and my pseudo-guard, demanded with her usual gruffness. 

I stared down at my plate. Yesterday had been mysterious meat kebab, the day before that, a cheese tart thing, and so on and so forth for a week. While all the dishes Tessa brought out of her kitchen tasted divine, I felt something in me crack. 

An egg the size of my fist was face down on the sky blue and red platter, surrounded by a thick orange syrup that smelled like Jack Daniel's. It was nine in the morning. I was in strange clothes, eating strange food, hearing strange people speak my language in a strange city named Apricot. Everyone was nice, accommodating, yet I couldn't help feeling adrift. I was alone in a foreign world. No amount of calling home or watching TLC was going to change that. I poked at the jiggling egg. Hmm, maybe not egg. 

I poked it again, and again, and again. Somewhere along the line I started to stab it, digging in with my serrated spoon, before abandoning the utensil and attacking the egg with my hands. 

"It's not fair!" I screamed, nails scraping against the wood, scoring deeper grooves into the wide bowl. 

It wasn't supposed to be like this. I had a plan! School, money, marriage, children, and finally death. Vacations and heartbreak were thrown in for good measure, but how the hell was I going to find those things now? 

I chucked the bowl at the wall, satisfied when it split and clattered to the floor. Fever and Cherry flinched, grabbing for their dishes as I waved my arm and cleared the table. Glass shattered, and wood scraped against stone. 

"I'm not supposed to be here!" I wailed, pounding my fists against the table again and again. 

Cherry slithered behind me, wrapping his arm like appendages around me. I kicked, screaming out as tears rushed down my face. I can't breathe! Shit, I can't breath. 

Fever came in front of me, evading my legs to clamp her hands over my cheeks. Her fiery skin almost burned. Fire demons were, unsurprisingly, freakin' hot! 

"Tilly," she yelled over my tantrum, "pull it together. You keep going ape shit and I'll splatter you across this room." 

My screaming hiccuped to a stop. I so did not want to get splattered on anything. I liked myself right where I was. 

"Good," Fever soothed. "Now breath, girl. Come on. In and out. In and out." 

"I'm . . . not in labor," I snapped as I followed her directions. 

She cracked a smile, showing a hint of fang. "Push, Tilly. Push." 

I growled, reigning myself back in with every deep breath. "Bitch," I mumbled on the last deep breath. 

"Guilty as changed." She pulled back, gave me a once over and nodded to Cherry. "Let her go, baby. She's good." 

I felt his arms slide from around me, leaving a sticky trail in their wake. Cherry moved around me to his girlfriend and slapped her playfully on the butt. "Pay up, Fi." 

Fever reached in her pocket and pulled out a scrap of something then passed it to him. Cherry's black eyes heated, before he tucked the piece into one of the pouches on his body. 

A week, I thought, closing my eyes. Not too bad. I pegged the freak out much early, right after Duke and everyone left my room. But there had been no time to digest my situation, there was always too much going on. This morning I had nothing to do. My subconscious finally processed the fact that I was here for a year, with no way out. 

I could barely even think past a day in this place. Maybe it would pass quickly, uneventfully. I mentally snorted. Flying pig chance in hell of that. 

I cleared my throat as Tessa and her group of kitchen helpers stumbled into the room and gasped. "I—had an accident," I explained quietly. 

The green dragoness gave me a look, tail swiping against the floor in agitation. Tessa directed the three behind her to clean up the mess, stopping to sigh every so often as she did it. Her tongue clicked as she spoke, "Looks like you lost your mind." 

I bit my lip as I bent down and helped. A few minutes later, the room was cleaned and Tessa informed me I would not be getting lunch. "Punishment," she'd said. 

I placed my elbows on the table and bridged my fingers. "I, uh . . . well—" 

Fever waved it off. "Happened to me once. I forgot which day the portal closed, and thought it already had. I was a crying mess, calling Cherry and babbling about missing it." She laughed, "It's always bad, worse, than 'I can get through this'." 

I smiled gratefully. Fever and Cherry were my guards, sort of. They kept me out of trouble and showed me the lay of the land. Fever was great because she'd been to Earth and Cherry was just a big teddy bear most of the time. 

I sighed, unknotting my hands and sliding them through my hair. "I really can't sit here and do nothing for a year. I can barely do it for a day. Every time I think about it I just—" I shivered, shaking off the feeling of slowly falling into an abyss. 

I stared at Fever, jealous of her super cool crimson hair. I'd tried that color once. It came out as burgundy, faded in a week, and left me with horrible bleached hair. Hers was natural, and went perfectly with her whisky brown skin and glowing gold eyes. 

I moaned, "You have to give me something to do." 

Fever cast a sidelong glance at Cherry and shrugged. "What do you want to do?" 

"Anything." 

She raised a brow. "Dangerous?" 

"I'm not looking to shorten my life, but a few bruises wouldn't be a problem." 

The demoness leaned back in her chair, golden eyes staring off into space. She blew out a ring of smoke without the help of a cigarette. Like everything I saw, first time was amazing, every time after was "the usual." 

She leaned over and whispered something to Cherry. He barked out a high pitched laugh, "If you can get her to do it, I'll be amazed." 

Fever's eyes practically glowed. "And I'll be wanting my panties back." 

So that's what the scrap of lace was. Gross. "T.M.I. you two." 

They whipped their heads to me. "What?" 

I wanted to slap my forehead. Stupid colloquialisms. "Too Much Information." 

Fever shrugged, and Cherry finished the rest of his meal. 

Fever pushed back her chair, wood scraping on the jagged stone. The dining room was a fifteenth century lord's dream, except for the electric chandelier. It was its own Lego piece, separate corridors shimmering from every doorway. 

She strode over to me, leather soles squeaking on the floor. The woman loved leather, the tighter the better, and anything low cut was just a plus. I had yet to see anything the didn't show off her cleavage, navel, and arms. 

"Bookeeper," Fever announced as she hopped up on the corner of the table near me and crossed her legs. "I think you'd like the job. And we're a bit thin because of the disappearances." 

"Disappearances?" I asked. 

She waved the word away. "Don't worry about it. Interested?" 

Bookeeper. That sounded about as boring a job as they came. "I've never been good at math. And gambling's not really my thing." 

She frowned at me and looked over her shoulder at Cherry. His scaled shifted, reflecting green before shifting back and settling into black. His emotions were reflected in the changing color of his scales. Green for uncertainty or confusion. Pink for embarrassment or anger. Orange for amusement. I hadn't seen the rest yet, but I was sure there were more. 

Fever turned back to me. "If they have Bookeepers on Earth, I'll tell you they aren't like ours. We don't do math, and we don't gamble." 

"What do you do?" 

"Go on adventures," she breathed. "See the world, find out all its secrets. We're like spies. We write everything down in a book, all the important information, and once a week we go to D and let him read it." 

D was Duke. No one except me called him by his full name because it was rude. Of course, he let it slide for me because I was human. 

"Okay," I agreed. "I'll do it. On a trial basis," I warned, wagging a finger. "When do we start?" 

"Start?" Fever laughed and hopped off the table. "Why don't we ask D if you can even do it first." 

I nodded and slid out of my chair. "Sounds like a plan." 

"No." 

I crossed my arms. "No?" 

Duke looked up from the book he was reading and said slowly, "Yes, Tilly. No." He went back to his book. 

I bit my lip and held back my bitchy retort. Duke only cared about three things: his wife, his kids, and his province. I figured that out the day after I arrived and all my human novelty wore off. If I was dying or in deadly trouble, I could talk to him, otherwise that was what Cherry and Fever were there for. 

"Why?" I asked, shifting on the hard seat. His office was chrome and black, ultra-modern. Similar to the dining room, it was its own Lego piece. 

He closed the book with a thump. "What did Milan say you could do the first day you arrived?" 

I thought back. "Anything I want as long as it doesn't effect this world." 

He nodded sharply. "Becoming a Bookeeper would be opposite that. You'd be finding out people's secrets and telling them to me. No one likes their dirty laundry known, Tilly. 

"Besides that, what you write down could mean the start of a war, a feud. It could mean life or death for some." He paused and leaned forward on the chrome desk. "This job is not to be taken lightly, and it's not something you do to pass the time." 

I opened my mouth to retort, but closed it. He was right, I just needed something to pass the time, but the job sounded interesting. I wanted to do it. From what Fever had told me on our jaunt to Duke's office, being a Bookeeper was like a spy, diplomat, and researcher all rolled into one. 

My Women's Studies degree prepared me for life as a diplomat and researcher, also a debater at times. I was golden on those fronts, and the mish mash of Zumba and Self defense classes I'd taken in college prepared me to be the spy I never thought I'd be. I felt confident I could do it. And getting to explore the world I would be calling home for the next twelve months was doubly awesome. 

I wanted this job. Bad. 

"Look, Duke, I'm not doing this just because I'm bored. Fever explained it all to me and I really like the position, think I'd be good at it. You can pick where I go, for how long I'm gone, and when I go. I don't care, but I can't just live in this . . . place for a year doing nothing." 

"Tessa could use help in the kitchen." 

"I've burned Mac and Cheese," I said flatly. 

"My assistant could use some help." 

My eyebrows shot up. "So, you'll trust me to help your assistant—the one who handles all your business, personal and otherwise—but not as a Bookkeeper." 

He flashed fang. "Point taken." Duke sighed and pushed back, lolling in his rolly chair. "Why a Bookeeper, Matilda?" 

"Tilly, please. And why not? It sounds interesting, and it's right up my alley. Plus it's not like I could write it on my resume—the receptionist job, I would try though. You've got nothing to lose, and you don't have to see me and hear me bitch and whine." 

"Which you do a lot," he muttered. 

"What I'm trying to get at," I said loudly, ignoring his jab, "Is that me being a Bookeeper would affect your life in no way whatsoever." 

"Unless you're speciest," he shot, righting his chair. "If you don't like a certain species or person that can affect what you write." 

I pointed a thumb over my shoulder at Fever and Cherry who stood leaning against the wall. "Check out thing one and two. A serpent and a demon," I stressed the words. "You would know by now if I was a speciest nut." 

A tick thrummed in his jaw, and his eyes flashed. He wanted to find a way to debate me, say I shouldn't be a Bookeeper. There were many reasons, all I which I would combat with the same quick, assuredness I had with everything he said. Now was just a battle of wills. 

I decided to throw the gauntlet, and suggest a final reason. "I would be one less thing to worry about. Assign me a partner. Make me his responsibility. 'Cause if you don't, I might just decide I'm going through a crisis every morning at three . . . and four . . . and five . . . and—" 

"Fine," Duke snapped. "Fever will train you and I'll find you a partner. You'll go on weekly assignments, and report back to me the second you step foot in my home. Understood?" 

"Uh-huh." I smoothed a hand over the tight-fitted, jean skirt. "When do we get started?"



Fall Thru Ch. 05



"This isn't what I had in mind, Fever," I wheezed as I bent over and clutched my stomach. The last round of punches hurt, and the magical tea Fever was giving me to heal my broken bones and fractured ribs had lost its appeal five cups ago. 

She bounced on the balls of her feet, fists up, movements erratic. "You wanted to do this, Tilly. And you're doing well for a human, just need to work on your speed and ability to function under pressure." 

Laying on my stomach and groaning while she pummeled me was apparently not "functioning under pressure." I staggered, shook the hazy pain out of my eyes, and righted myself. I survived four weeks of training, getting my ass kicked and doing very little ass kicking of my own, there was no way I was going to wuss out now. 

I spat blood and teeth, too used to it to be grossed out. "Bring it, demon." 

"My pleasure, human." 

As Fever delivered a fresh round of blows, I maneuvered and rolled, dodging a few and catching others in places that wouldn't kill me. The training area was a wide square, situated outside in the western gardens on the patterned brick work. Most of the minotaurs and satyrs roamed here, and further in the distance was the river that fed into the giant waterfall outside my bedroom. 

Fever feigned a right punch, but I anticipated it. I slapped my hand on her shoulder, tossing myself up and over her body in a fancy gymnastic move. The demon whistled low as she spun around. "Lookin' good, Tilly. Glad to see you were paying attention." 

I spared her a chipped tooth smile as she resumed her assault. 

Apricot city was super big. A collection of mountains, valleys, rivers, streams, forests, and flat land. It stretched in a big swath of patchwork teal, reminding me of Scotland. I'd gotten a bird's eye view from one of Tessa's dragon friends, a hulking mass of a beast called Chariot. 

"Concentrate!" Fever yelled as she punched me in the gut. I was propelled backwards into a bush of weeping bells. The flowers cried out in their mournful melody as I landed ass first, back second. 

I covered my ears and screamed at Fever. "Ya couldn't have thrown me in the dirt?" 

She rotated her shoulder and neck until they popped. "Get up or quit. Pick one. Now." 

Fever was all teeth and blood when we trained, egging me on to quit, giving me the chance to decide when our breaks were, and when we ended for the day. I fell for it the first time and Duke had come to me beaming, ecstatic that I changed my mind. 

Fever shrugged when I approached her about it. "Thought you wanted to quit. You weren't working like you wanted to stay." Her eyes pierced me, golden sun, too damn hot and too damn bright. "This ain't Earth, Tilly, and I'm not a human. You want to work like one of us, well I'm going to train you to fight, think, and act like one of us." 

"But you're a demon," I'd argued. 

"And D's a Vampire, Cherry's a Ladon, and Tessa's a dragon." She clicked he tongue. "We're all different species but we cross over because we live in a society and abide by its dictates. What you are doesn't define who you are." 

I let the memory fade away as I struggled from the bush. I put my fists up, widened my stance, and tried not to wince when my broken ribs creeked. 

Fever smiled wide and then zig-zagged to me in a series of steps I still couldn't see. She was a blur of brown limbs as I tried to dodge and protect my sore parts. 

"Stop," a voice called out. 

The demoness diverted her attention from me for a split second, but it gave me enough time to swipe her leg out and pin her to the ground with one arm tight around her throat and the other wrapped tightly around her hair. Fever was a Cherufe (fire demon), so squeezing her throat stopped the fire. It only worked for a few minutes, but it made it a lot easier to beat her. 

Footsteps reverberated off the steps as someone descended to our arena. The cultured tone let me know who that someone was, "Very good, Tilly. Seems you're improving." 

I pinned Fever a second longer, watching her cheeks turn a bright blue. At first I thought that meant she was suffocating, trial and error told me it was her blood heating. 

I unclenched my hand and jumped back at the same moment Fever jumped up. "Playing dirty, girl," she rasped. 

I shrugged, and bit back a cry as pain shot through my body. "Learned from the best," I wheezed, gripping my sides so I didn't keel over and die. 

Fever's eyes skipped to the side and she nodded to Duke. "Hiya, D. That you screaming, Caster? Lost my concentration because of you." 

I followed her gaze to Duke and a dude beside him. I was almost bowled over by the other guy. Six feet something of muscle covered with midnight skin. Tattoos like stars only enhanced the effect. 

My jaw went lax, eyes half-lidded, breasts became heavy, nipples hard, and I was so wet that Niagara Falls looked dry in comparison. I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn't form words. 

"Ugh," Fever groaned. "When was the last time you fucked someone, Caster? You smell like a Centaurian male at the Gathering." 

"Watch your language, Fever. If your parents heard you talking like that, they'd put your head under water," he growled in a voice that reminded me of a cat purring, vibrations went right to my soft spot. I moaned low, totally against my will. 

Midnight guy whipped his head to me, and looked me up and down. His eyes were bright silver, pupils piercing black. He really did remind me of night, vast and unending. I wondered if he was cool. If I touched his skin would I be transported to a world without light, one where touch was dominant and all those senses I took for granted were paramount? 

"You smell like a witch on Samhain," he spat angrily. "Fix it." 

I didn't even know what that meant, but from the way he said it, I doubted it was a compliment. I half-moaned, half-gasped, "You . . . fix it!" 

"Seriously, Caster," Fever forced out through clenched teeth, skin cracking as lava ran down her to drip on the floor with a sizzle. "It's effecting me. You need to get that—that shit under control." 

The midnight guy growled before he spun on his heel and stalked toward the opposite side of the garden. I watched him catch a nymph around the waist, then spin them into the shade of a tree and behind its trunk. 

It was an uncomfortable couple of seconds while Fever and I pulled ourselves back together. Then it was a tense, blush-inducing few minutes while Caster pulled himself together behind a tree. If the gasps, moans, and keening cries of ecstasy weren't picture-painting enough, the commentary to go along with it sure helped. 

"Thank you, Goddess. The pleasure—my Goddess the pleasure. He's so big, I don't think he can. Sweeeeeeet three . . . horned . . . mother . . . Godesssssss!" 

I looked at Duke, forcing the pain I felt aside, and spoke over the sex sounds. "What can I do for you, Duke?" 

Fever moved around, unaffected by the porno behind us, and grabbed the bottle of revitalizing tea. She tossed it to me and I gagged down the horrible liquid, wincing as my bones and tissue fixed. I was itchy for a few seconds, desperately wanting to scratch a layer of my skin off, before I healed completely. 

"Five more have gone missing in the weeks you've been training, Tilly." His face was a blank pale slate as he addressed Fever, "You are to report to Blue and resume your regular schedule. Starting now." 

"Duty calls," Fever drawled as she moved past Duke, up the winding brickwork, and into the mansion. She waved a hand over her shoulder. "See ya later, dirty girl." 

"Tilly." Duke drew my attention back. "Caster will be your new partner. The minute he is finished with his meal I will introduce you." 

"His meal?" 

Duke nodded to the tree still eliciting sounds of ecstasy. "Caster is an incubus." 

I frowned, both from the dampness of my panties and confusion. "Incubus as in sex demon?" 

He tilted his head in affirmation. "The very same. Remember how I told you this Galaxy contains three planets?" 

I nodded. 

"Each houses a different evolved species. Demons to Nagios. Fae is home to Yenos. And Magically evolved to Janos." 

Magically evolved was the nice way of saying Humans drew the short end of the evolution stick and we could have been magical creatures. There were a few instances on Earth—real witches and magical practitioners—but they were shunned and treated like freaks of nature. 

"Okay, got it," I said. "And he's my partner for the Bookkeeper thing?" 

"He is." 

There was a keening cry from the tree before a soft thud. I stared for a second before my new partner stepped around the truck and started toward me. If anything, the man looked hotter. Sexy without the sexual edge. 

He stopped in front of me. "I would shake your hand—" 

"But I'd have to burn it afterwards," I finished with a smile. "Tilly." 

"Caster," he returned. 

Duke clapped his hands and we turned to the vampire. "Fever assured me three days ago that you were ready to go out—" 

"Three days?" I blurted. 

"—but I wanted to confirm that for myself," he finished pointedly. He looked me up and down quickly, and nodded his assent. "Get cleaned up. You and Caster leave for the centaurian village in an hour."



Fall Thru Ch. 06



An hour—or "chrome"—later I stood with Caster in a wide courtyard, two motorcycle-looking bikes between us. He threw a cell phone sized, silver bar at me. "That's the battery pack for the bike. I doubt we'll need to recharge, but it's always good to have an extra." 

I looked at the bike suspiciously. My mother called them death traps, and I was hard-pressed to disagree. "Is it safe?" 

"Safer than training with Fever." 

No argument there. "I've never been on a bike." 

"And I've never met a human," he announced, settling on the bike's seat with a squeak of leather and a flex of muscles. "New experiences make up life." 

This was my second time meeting Caster, and we'd been together barely five minutes, cumulative. It seemed the pattern in this world to just throw people to the dogs. A very sink or swim mentality. If I didn't know for a fact Fever left with her partner Blue—a chipper Dryad that was completely opposite her name—I would swear I heard her voice in my ear saying, "Join him or quit. Your choice. Be quick." 

I threw a leg over the bike and settled on it. The cool metal went straight through my black leggings and made me wish I'd worn something warmer. 

"Try leather next time," Caster said as he leaned over and quickly showed me how to work the controls and gave me the code to turn on, turn off, and lock my bike. "It's the unofficial uniform of the Bookkeepers. Warmer, easier to get stains out of, and you'd look better in it." 

"My job isn't to give you a show," I snapped with more anger than I intended. 

Thirty minutes in the shower and while I was physically clean, I still felt dirty. I'd been trying to rub one out and assuage the throbbing mess that was my clit. Nothing worked, and I assumed it had something to do with Caster. No doubt just like Fever's fiery burns, the magic Caster threw off stayed much longer than he did. 

"We're not going to have sex," he said smoothly, surprising me. 

"Of course we're not. Did I do something to make you think we were." 

He started his bike and cracked a smile. "You got wet." 

I sputtered, mentally cursing sexy incubi everywhere. He went on in front of me, leaving a brief trail of dust in his wake. Caster stopped when he hit the arch of poisonous vines that were used to let citizens in and out and keep everyone else far away. 

"You coming, human?" he called out. 

I slapped on the helmet he hadn't bothered to put on, and wiggled as it conformed to my head. The bike wasn't hard to work, and in a second it was moving and I was in front of him. I pushed down harder on the rounded control on my left handle and the engine purred loudly beneath me, sending vibrations to places that didn't need vibrations . . . right at that moment. 

Caster was quick to catch up and pass me, his bike roaring like a distant cousin of a Harley. "It's tree dills Bent," he called over the purr of electric engines. Three . . . something something. 

I groaned and rolled my eyes. I'd gotten good with the numbers, but the distances were still a mystery to me. "Tree dills Bent?" 

Caster looked over at me and shook his head. "Talk to Duke if you want a lesson on time and direction." 

I rolled my eyes and ignored his comment. "You call him Duke. No one calls him Duke." 

He turned back to the road, leaning into the bike as we approached a thick forest with trees that kissed the sky. "I'm not under his rule and claim no fealty to him." 

"Then how are you a Bookkeeper?" 

"How are you?" he parried. 

I mentally sighed as the road thinned and I was forced to ride behind him for about fifteen minutes. Sometimes it was so easy to get caught up in this world, forget everything I came from. No adventure could amount to any adventure here, and no parallels could be drawn. 

Even something as simple as going to the library or "knowledge house" as it translated was amazing. It was like something out of Tim Burton's twisted fantasy, with creatures that the Greeks would have marveled at. Everyone was a cross with something, and things that I hadn't even heard of walked the halls and called out, "Hey, Tilly the human." 

I was the oddity. 

Caster cast a glance over his shoulder. "We're coming up to it. Keep your eyes open and don't run over any foals." 

That was going on my mental list of things I never expected to hear. Number three thousand and something, I think. 

The trail expanded until it birthed a wide meadow with rolling hills and streams like veins through it. "Amazing." 

A few more minutes and we came to a series of spread out cottages, arranged in an open square. Centaurs and humans walked together through the little town, stopping in some of the cottages and coming out of others. 

Caster held up a hand and slowed his bike. "Stop. We're here." 

Gawking was an inbred trait when I saw half horse, half human people walking around, but I stifled it and climbed off the bike. For a few seconds I fumbled with the controls to turn it off and input the lock code, and by the time I did that successfully, Caster was a good thirty paces away. Scrambling to catch up, I tugged at the strap pulling between my breasts as he walked toward the big, main house and I followed. The stupid book I was supposed to write in was heavy as hell. 

Caster didn't knock on the wood siding of the house or rustle the thick tarp working as a door like I expected but strode right through like he owned the place. It's not that I was cautious by nature, but being in another world had opened me up to a whole nother set of cultural and gender expectations. Duke and Fever had both been to Earth, but his staff hadn't, and I'd had to learn the hard way what was considered ruse and what was considered polite. Had to—bah! That made it seem like I wasn't still learning it, which trust me, I was. 

My enterance into the house was that of a mouse peaking it's head out of it's hole. I watched Caster place the back of his hand to his head and bend to a centaur who reminded me of an Idris Elba look alikelounging across from him, who I guessed was the owner of the house. 

"Rain," my partner greeted. "Duke sent us to see how the new chief fairs." 

Rain—who I was guessing was the chief—smiled places the back of his hand to his head, did that weird bow thing, and then gestured to a pillow formation in front of him. "Please. Sit." 

While Caster took a seat, I stood and tried my hardest not to fidget. Was I just supposed to stand here? Was I not even supposed to be here? My roll had never really been disgusted, and not for the first time I felt out of place. The scenery didn't help much either. The house was shaped like a giant rectangle with flaps separating what looked like three main rooms. Smells were wafting out of the room to my left and I thought that had to be the kitchen. We were obviously in the living room, a circle of sunlight coming down from a hole in the sky being the only illumination, and it didn't extend much further than the grouping of pillows situated in top of a wide rug. Looked nice though, very Middle East meets farm house. 

"I've brought my new partner," Caster said suddenly, drawing me back to the men. "Her name is Tilly." 

Slapping the back of my hand against my head quickly, I made a terrible effort at a bow. Parroting had become a daily sport, and so far I was still sucking at it. 

"Drink?" Rain offered, ignoring me as i sat next to Caster and pulled the Bookkeeper book out of my satchel. 

Caster placed a hand over his heart. "I couldn't." 

"You must." 

"Only if you let me pour." 

Rain smiled brightly and snapped his fingers. A centaurian woman around thirty emerged from behind the kitchen flap instantly and set down a tray with two cups directly between the men. I noticed there wasn't a cup for me. As the woman went back and the flap closed I could hear whispers, light and feminine. 

Maybe I should be in the kitchen? I thought back to the woman who brought the tea, she hadn't looked at either of the men as she'd set them down. And now that I remembered, when we had been coming into the village, the woman and men had been separate. No couples visible. Deciding that I'd rather be careful than disrespectful, I lowered my gaze away from the men and concentrated on the book in my lap. 

"Lift your head, Matilda," Casper said evenly as he poured the steaming drink high, liquid like black tar flowed to the wooden cups. "You are not a slave." 

Oh, this world still has slaves. I tried to brush off the fear that trailed. Being Black and hearing the word "slave" did weird things to me. It's not like my family had ever been slaves (I was first generation Sierra Leone and the fact that my mother was part Egyptian part British didn't hurt my pigment either) but I was still considered African American, and it wasn't like racists had that distinction when attacking you. 

Caster passed one of the filled cups to Rain and took one for himself. The men carefully touched rims, no drink higher than the other, before Rain tossed his back. Caster handed me the cup. "Drink." 

Didn't have to tell me twice. I tossed back the liquid and coughed as it burned down my throat. Ugh, it was like choking down crude oil. I gagged and hacked for a good minute before finally speaking, "Blech, that tasted like wet ass." 

"Maybe to you, human," Rain interjected, placing his cup down with a hard click, "but it is tradition." 

I looked at him, my mouth faster than my brain. "One that needs to end." 

Shit! My eyes widened. "Sorry, I mean—It's just—" 

"How long since your father's death again, Rain? Tree ralph?" Caster asked suddenly. 

Rain looked at Caster and my rudeness and ignorance was quickly forgotten. I reached for the book in my bag and cracked it open, shuffling through the pages to find a blank one. I was looking for the pen I'd thrown in the sack, when Rain started to talk, "And a click." 

Caster refilled Rain's cup and murmured, "Good centaur." 

Rain lifted his cup in agreement. "The best." 

Tree (3) and a click? Look up click, I wrote down when I finally found my pen. Old centaur in charge was good. Fever had never really explained what I was supposed to write in the Bookkeeper Book. Facts and anything I heard were my guess. 

"When will the Gathering be held?" Caster asked. 

"Secret and Moon are marrying in opie ralp, and there are opie more ceremonies after that. Thunder, Lightening, and I will hold it in a mirth and a click." 

The names spoke of an unimaginative parent, and pretty much told me that Rain had two brothers. "If you don't mind me asking," I interrupted. "What's the Gathering?" 

Caster placed a heavy hand on my leg, which I took to mean 'this is the only question you ever ask'. However, his words were soft, "I think they call it a funeral on Earth." 

Oh. I bent my head and scribbled, Gathering in a mirth (month)? Opie (2) more events. Confirm. Wedding for Moon and Secret marrying in opie (2) ralph (weeks). It occurred to me as I finished my last sentence that only Fever and Duke would be able to read what I wrote, if they learned to read English. Taking the pen, I jotted down on my skin, Learn to write the language here. 

It was another few minutes of the men talking and me writing, before the visit was done. Rain rose first and Caster and I followed. "You will come to the Gathering, won't you, Caster?" 

The incubus smiled tightly. "It might not be the best . . . environment for me." 

The centaur turned to me. "Send your proteges in your stead." 

"We will see." 

"Yes," Rain returned silkily as he snapped his fingers and a woman appeared to hustle us out. "We will." 

I penned a quick note in the book, Tilly to attend Gathering. Dangerous? The conversation didn't sound like it would be softly muttered condolences and weeping family members. There was no time to ask Caster though, as he strode past the other houses and back to our bikes. I fumbled to put away the book and catch up to him. Foals played by our bikes, running small fingers over the leather seat. 

"It will eat you," Caster called out to the children. 

They jumped back and he laughed, reaching the bikes and picking up a particularly small centaur. "Bell, how are you?" 

"As pleased as the sun." The filly blushed and eyed the bike. "It will not eat me, will it?" 

"No, dearheart," he reassured. "It will not." 

I was touched by the scene. Caster didn't seem like the type to be nice to children, but here he was. When I finally reached the bikes and his side, most of the other foals were gone, and Caster was releasing the filly from his arms. "Tell your mother and father I am sorry I could not stop by." 

The child nodded and raced off. "Who was that?" 

Caster raised his eyebrow and climbed on the bike. "Lightning's daughter." 

"I would like to have met her." 

"You couldn't have." 

"Why not?" 

He sighed and waved to my bike, the one sitting with me not on it. I took the hint. "Because you haven't met her mother and father. And it's not only rude but dangerous to approach a centurion child without knowing their parents." 

I popped that tidbit of information on my list, typed in the code to start the bike, and slapped on my helmet. "Understood." 

*** 

"Next are the cascading nymphs, right?" I yelled over the engines as the road expanded enough to allow Caster and I to ride side by side. 

He threw me a 'shut the hell up' look and I glared at him. So far he'd barely tolerated me and I'd done nothing to deserve it. Well, maybe not nothing, but it wasn't like I was going out of my way to be a stupid human. I knew Americans were notorious for expecting others to conform to our ways, but I wasn't like that. I got that I was in a new place, with new people, and my way was almost always the wrong way. A little slack from him would be nice. 

"Please." I'd rather have choked on poison then have said the word, but as there wasn't arsenic nearby, I didn't have a choice. 

"Yes." 

"Why are we going there exactly?" That hadn't really been discussed. In fact, all he'd said was "We're going to the cascading nymphs" then sped away from the centaur camp. That had been half an hour ago, and I was no closer to figuring out what the hell that meant now than I was then. Thank goodness for Duke and his massive library, I could always look it up later. 

"Swipe says she saw something. The messenger she sent wasn't specific enough, so we're confirming her report." 

"Okay." That wasn't so hard, assuming Swipe was a nymph and not a Spanish speaking fox who'd forgotten to add the R on the end of her name. 

The road thinned again, and I was forced to ride behind him. It wasn't so bad though. The scenery was gorgeous and it was hard to feel anything but happy when I looked around. Patchworked hills in an array of colors spread across the landscape, like someone's aging grandmother who was obsessed with garage sales had just collected all the patterns she could find, sewn them together, and threw them over the earth. 

I winced as the book in my satchel smacked my side on a particularly quick drop. If the road hadn't been mimicking a rollercoaster ride, everything would be perfect. "How much farther is it?" I asked, forcing back a gag as my stomach jumped up to my throat and then plummet back down. 

"You won't understand even if I tell you." 

Note to self: learn stupid directions. "Fine." 

Breathing deeply, I closed my eyes for two counts—not one of my finer moments considering I was on a motorcycle—and when I opened them a forest had sprouted up in front of me. Just like that. Trees in all shapes, colors, and sizes reached for the sky on a hill that looked more like a zit. 

Caster slowed his bike and I fumbled to do the same. He curved around the hill for a few more seconds before stopping his bike beside a cave. I followed and was a second behind him as I turned off the engine, threw my leg over the side, and sidled up to him. 

"Is this it?" I looked up at the vertical climb then back to my flats. They were the only shoes I had, though Fever had said she'd take me into the village to get get some more along with some clothes of my own. I'd just been putting off the journey because . . . if I looked in the mirror and saw new clothes and new shoes, I feared I'd see a new me too, and I wasn't ready to change. I was human; and even if that wasn't denoted by my clothes, I felt like it was. 

"Yes. Now listen." 

His voice was serious and I found myself looking up at him. His eyes bored into mine, and something swiveled in their depths. A shiver wracked my form, but I forced it down. It's nothing. "I'm listening." 

"You need to keep your eyes closed when we talk to Swipe. Nymphs have two forms: that of a plant and that of a human-like creature. If you look at them directly when they are in their human form, they revert to their plant form permanently. Do you understand?" 

I nodded. "Sort of like Medusa." 

"Who?" 

"Greek mythology." I waved my hand. "It's nothing. But, um, how will I write if I can't open my eyes?" 

"You can write when we get back. Besides, it's better if we don't bring a lot with us." So saying, he threw off the weapons around his waist, ones I'd thought looked pretty, but after I heard them ding against the bike, knew they weren't just for show. He pressed a button on the bike and the seat popped up, allowing him to stow everything, before closing. 

I felt around my own bike until I heard the switch click and the seat spring back. "Should I leave the book?" 

"That is what I said." 

I bit my cheek on a sassy retort and stuffed the book in the compartment. "Okay, I'm ready." 

We started through the cave. I blinked at the dark interior, quickly losing Caster. "Hey." I reached blindly for him. "I can't see any—ah!" 

I could hear the incubus grind his teeth. "Tilly." 

"Please tell me that wasn't your dick." Or tell me it was. I flushed at my thoughts and pinched my arm. Caster might be hot, but he was an alien. We didn't even speak the same language, I doubted he had the same body parts. But if he did . . . 

No! I mentally yelled at myself as I plastered my hands to my side. None of that now. 

"Follow me and don't touch anything," he stressed. "Lights will come on soon enough." 

I nodded and blindly trailed after him. It was hard going for a few seconds, especially since I'd told myself I would rather faceplant than accidentally touch anything of Caster's again. But after a minute lights did come on, though they weren't the ones I thought would. 

From every wall of the cave, mellow blue lights glowed, shifting every so often so it looked like it was raining. I stepped close to the wall and reached out for what I thought were glowing insects. 

"What did I just say?" Caster roared, locking his hand around my wrist. I flinched back at the same moment the wall surged out at me, blue lights parting like the jaws of a wild animal. They didn't get far, only an inch or two, before retreating back into the wall, but it was enough to set off a panic attack. 

Breathing erratically, I crouched. If he'd been a second late, I wouldn't have had a hand. Maybe not a body either if the thing had pulled me close and all the lights had done the same move. I could have died. 

Caster bent in front of me, his hands moving to my shoulder. "You're safe." 

No I wasn't. I wasn't safe at all. Bookkeeper? What the hell was I thinking? My penmanship was awful, and the closest I'd gotten to an adventure was in books. 




Fall Thru Ch. 06



"Tilly." He shook me violently, teeth rattling in the cavern of my mouth. "Duke wouldn't have let you come with me if he didn't think you were ready. Don't prove him wrong now." 

Those weren't exactly the words I wanted to hear, but they had the desired effect. It made me think of something else beside my near-death experience or the fact that I might very likely die on a strange planet because—ya know, curiosity killed the cat. 

I thought about the panic attack I'd had when a camp counselor accidentally gave me his ecstasy instead of the aspirin I'd needed. I'd had to realize that things would happen, things I couldn't control, and instead of panicking, I'd have to move past them. And part of passing them was also living with them, accepting them. 

Death happens to everyone, I reminded myself. Doesn't mean it's scary. And maybe I wouldn't have died, but just lost an arm. They could have robot arms here. I'd like that. 

A small laugh erupted from my lips as I calmed myself with absurdity. It helped. Another second of thinking about all the things I could do with a robot arm—there were a lot—and I was past the panic. I blew out a long breath and looked up at Caster, plastering a smile on. "Duke wasn't wrong." 

He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes unfathomable, before rising slowly and holding out his hand for me. "Good." I took it and he pulled me up. "But just because you didn't prove Duke wrong, doesn't mean that you've done the same for me," he added pointedly. 

"Jackass." 

"Excuse me?" 

"Jack. Ass," I said slowly. 

Shaking his head, Caster let go of my hand and started ahead. "Don't touch anything. I won't say it again." 

He didn't have to tell me a third time. 

It was a few more minutes of walking the deadly bug-light hallways before we came to what I assumed was the center of the mountain and a very large circular staircase. It didn't look like it was man-made, but rather part of the mountain itself. Small flowers dotted each step, and handrails twisted and curved into both each other and the large tree in the center. 

Caster started to walk, and I followed after him, stumbling a few times as the flowers swayed, opened, and closed. After about five flights, we reached the top. The large log running up the center of the stairs reached further up and became branches and twigs, pulled low to the ground by hot pink flowers. I could imagine a man getting down on one knee and proposing to the love of his life while cameras rolled a few feet away. 

We stopped just a few paces from the steps and he sat down on the ground. I rocked on my heels, feeling the squishy grass beneath the soles of my shoes. It was damp. Damn. 

"Can I stand?" 

He closed his eyes, tucked his legs in, and placed his hands, palms up, on his bent knees. I took his silence as a "no" and sat, mimicking his position. Cold, wet ground saturated my leggings and I grumbled and shifted until the sharp click of Caster's tongue quieted me. 

We sat like that long enough for my muscles to stiffen and I shifted uncomfortably. "How long are we—" 

"Quiet," Caster snapped. "And keep your eyes closed. Don't open them until I say so." 

My jaw reverberated as my teeth clacked together. I made another mental note to talk to Duke about another partner. It was obvious Caster didn't like me, and I had no wish to be with a guy who found it hard to work with me. 

After a few more minutes, I felt the slightest breeze around my shoulder and shivered. "Caster?" a soft voice asked. It reminded me of Marilyn Monroe's wispy cadence. 

"Swipe," Caster acknowledged as I dutifully remained quiet and mentally started to take notes. "You called about a sighting?" 

"I did." 

"What did you see?" 

"I saw—I'm not sure what I saw." She paused as if contemplating before continuing slowly, "It was at a distance. Humanoids being led on a chain." 

I could hear the frown in Caster's voice, "Demons? Did you get their caste markings?" 

There was a slight breeze, and something soft brushed my arm. I think it was hair, though it felt more like flower petals. "I'm not sure what they were. I only know they were bipedal, and built much like you two." 

"Could you tell if they were young?" 

The question struck me as odd until I remembered the missing teenagers. Some of the Duke's staff had talked about it and Fever had mentioned it a time or two. It would make sense that Caster would ask. I had a gruesome thought: what if the kids were being kidnapped and sold into slavery? 

"If you are asking if they were the children who've disappeared," Swipe continued. "I could not tell. You now know everything I know." 

"Nothing else?" 

"No." 

Caster waited a second before letting out a long sigh. "The lord of Ramous thanks you, and offers this small token of appreciation." 

I heard something jingle. Money? 

"I accept," Swipe said softly. "'Til Mother calls us home." 

"'Til then." 

There was a shift in the air, but I waited another few seconds to ask my question. "Is she gone?" 

"Yes." 

I bit my lip and clenched my fists. "Well, can I open my freakin' eyes?" 

There was a long pause and I thought maybe he didn't hear me. I opened my mouth again when he finally spoke. "Yes." 

My eyes popped open and I looked around. Caster was standing in front of me, staring hard and Swipe was nowhere to be found. Or maybe she was. There were a lot of trees, and we were in a tree, so . . . "That's it?" 

"Yes." He turned on his heel and started down the stairs without a backward glance. I scrambled up, feeling soggy and wet, and nearly tripped on a root. Cursing, I quickly followed after him. 

"What should I write down?" I asked, splitting my time watching him and the stairs. 

Caster practically skipped down the steps, reaching the bottom before I'd gotten to the third level. When he was nearing the exit I yelled at him to stop. The guy ran like an Olympic athlete, and I couldn't keep up. Plus the twisted stairs and light-bug infested cave freaked me out. There was no way in hell he was leaving me alone. "What's the rush?" 

His back stiffened and I could hear him grind his teeth. "You've been trained. This is the field. Keep asking questions and I'll send you back to Fever." 

Pause. What did he just say to me? I stopped on the second to last step, tilted my head and stared at him like he'd lost his mind. He must have. "What did you just say?" 

He never turned around. "You heard me." 

Taking a few calming breaths, I used the space it took me to get to him to choose my words carefully. But when I opened my mouth, 'careful' wasn't exactly what came out. "Why are you being such an asshole?" 

"I'm not," he growled, finally turning around to face me. 

"Oh, yes you are." I jabbed a finger at his chest. "This is my first day. And I'm not even from here—I'm from another planet—" 

"As if any of us could forget." 

"Seriously! What the hell is your problem?" 

"Your smell." 

"Are you saying I stink?" 

"No." Caster took a step toward me and I felt the space between us shift. Knowing my luck, I'd probably said something offensive or used some kind of annoy incubi shower gel. His pupils dilated and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. When he spoke, his voice was a dark rumble reminding me again of a vibrator. "You smell delicious. Like a hot, wet fuck on a sunny hoax." 

That had to be number one on the top ten list of crazy things I'd heard, and I'd spent nearly the last month on an alien planet. How did he want me to respond to that little pronouncement? Hell, I couldn't even think of a response. My mouth opened, shut, and mimicked a fish out of water for a few seconds before I finally managed to squeak out a "Thanks?" 

His pupils expanded even more, and the tattoos covering his skin seemed to swirl. Actually, his entire body seemed to darken, like tea that had set out too long. Caster took another step toward me. "You'll let me fuck you." 

Well, that took a turn for the I'm-not-sure-how-to-handle-this-conversation. Holding my hands up, I skirted the bug wall, careful not to touch it, and managed to have my back to the entrance. "Now wait a second. You were the one who said we weren't going to have sex." 

A part of me, the whorish one, was screaming in my head to peel off my pants, rip off my shirt, and ride him until one or both of us was chafed. I tried really hard to ignore that part. Last thing I needed was to get pregnant with some Alien style baby and end up having it eat through my stomach and kill me, or worse. The incubus in front of me, stalking me like I was a lamb and he was a wolf, looked like he could do much worse. 

"Things change." 

I continued to inch back, scared that if I made an all out run for it, he'd think it was a chase and bring me down. While he didn't look like he'd rape me, the fear was still there, along with an even deeper fear that said the feelings of pain, shame, and humiliation that would come from rape wouldn't take over me because the incubus would never let them. Somehow he'd make it consensual, and when the dust settled, I'd hate myself even more for loving every minute of it. 

"Caster—" 

"Ah, the way you say my name—" His eyes closed and his neck swiveled. When he opened his eyes again they were almost black. "—makes my dick hard." 

I felt the edge of the opening with my toe and thanked my lucky stars. Whatever was happening to him was affecting the hell out of me too. My breasts were heavier, like they'd gone up a cup size, and tender as all get out. Same with my clit, except it was also wet and throbbed horribly. All I wanted to do was throw caution to the wind and myself at him and give in to the crazy sexual desire pushing at me on all sides. 

"I'm not going to have sex with you," I said with far more certainty than I felt. 

His smile was fanged and patient. "I think you'll reconsider." 

He was within arm's reach of me when I fell back and out of the cave. I rolled to the floor, cursing the entire time, but something stopped me. Something that felt suspiciously like a pair of legs. Had Caster been able to move that fast? 

"Look what we have here," a voice boomed above me, definitely not Caster. 

I opened my eyes to find three . . . uh, werewolves, I think, surrounding me. They looked like werewolves. Fangs, tails, pointed ears, slitted eyes, and hairy, but I'd thought that werewolves were either one or the other—wolf or man. These things looked mid-change. 

"Bookkeepers," the werewolf to the left laughed deeply, "ripe for the picking." 

Scrambling up and away from the men, I felt the ground jump for a second and looked over my shoulder to find Caster a few feet away from me, knees bent, eyes trained on the wolves with his lips drawn back in a snarl. 

He made the first move. Jumped over me and kicked one of the wolves square in the chest. The guy flew fast into a tree, making the trunk vibrate with the impact. I crawled on my hands and knees away from the action, content to hide and let the boys duke it out, when a hand wrapped around my ankle. "Think I could get a pretty price for you, human." 

My body flipped instinctively, other foot turning and catching the guy in the face. Blood spurted from his mouth, and he released me instantly. Oh, that's right! I'd forgotten that Fever had spent the last four weeks whipping my ass into shape morning, noon, and night. Killing the fire demon had been my recurring fantasy for awhile, especially when she pulled sneak attacks. Now I just wanted to kiss her feet and thank her for everything. 

Hopping up, I shifted to the werewolf who'd attacked me. He was sitting on the ground, rubbing his jaw and glaring murder at me. In one swift move, he got to his feet. "I'll fuck the shit out of you before the delivery." 

My smile was all ferocious feminist. "Never." 

While Caster practically ripped the other two werewolves apart with his hands, I beat mine down to a pulp. Punching and kicking, evading and striking. Fever was a hundred times better than this guy and the few times he did get a hit in felt like love taps. Again the need to kill the fire demon and kiss her rumbled through my head, before I decided on kissing while swiping the wolf's legs out from under him and pressing my shoe on his windpipe. 

A deafening howl pierced the fight, jarring me and giving the wolf time to throw me off. I covered my ears and Caster did the same, giving the wolves plenty of time to drag their sorry asses back to whatever hell hole they'd crawled up from. 

"Next time," the werewolf I'd been fighting sneered loudly over the howling. "Next time." 

The howling seemed to get louder, driving me to my knees and making my eyes cross. God, just make it stop! I was in the I-think-my-ears-are-bleeding stage when it finally cut with the swiftness of a light switch being flipped off. Panting harshly with my knees buried in the mushy dirt of the ground, I stared at Caster over the forest floor and watched his pupils slowly contract back to their normal size. The air wasn't charged anymore, and the weird heat that seemed to cross between us like kindling wasn't there. In it's place though was surreal fear mixed with a surprising amount of pride. I wasn't dead. Yay for me! 

"What the hell just happened?" 

"We were attacked." 

Obviously. "But why? I get that we're bookkeepers, but we didn't have books on us. And our bikes are right here! Fully intact. Doesn't even look like they touched 'em." 

My eyes shifted left and right, scanning the small forest they'd escaped into. I knew there was nothing past it, just grass-covered hills. "We should go after them?" I said before remembering I was a Women's Studies human. Too much Alias and Buffy the Vampire Slayer hadn't just melted my brain but molded it into a badass fight chick. My body, of course, didn't get molded with it. 

"We're not going after them," Caster grumbled, stomping over to his bike. 

"We could." I had faith in my skills now that I knew Fever hadn't just been torturing me. 

"We won't. We don't know their numbers. And the cry just now was from an Alpha. Fighting him is death assured." He swung his leg over and settled on the bike, a wince contorting his face as he lifted up on the seat and adjusted himself. 

My eyes zoomed to where his hand moved between his legs. Bad idea. The crazy feeling of lust hit me in the sweet spot, blowing away the fear eating at me. Caster swung his head toward me, expression so thunderous he should have been a cloud. "You're doing that on purpose." 

"What?" 

"If I get off this bike," he growled, running his eyes down my body. "Then I'm fucking you." 

I shifted uncomfortably on the ground, deciding that Caster was right and I should just be happy to be alive. Scratch that—ecstatic! Dragging myself off the forest floor, I tried to dust off the worst of the mud and leaves as I watched toward my bike, picking out leaves from my curls as I went. What I wouldn't do for a hot oil treatment and a blow out. "Are you still on about that?" 

"It's my nature." 

"Pfft. It's your dick." 

"I'm an incubus." 

"And I'm a human!" I sighed, throwing my arms up as I settled on the bike seat. "Where I come from, men get no reason boners and women get no reason wet all the time. So, I'm wet. It's not like I'm telling you I'm raring to go. Get over yourself." 

Plopping my helmet on my head, I didn't even wait for it to conform to my head before I turned off the bike and sped ahead of him. I'd had my breaking point weeks ago, and I wasn't in the habit of repeating things that didn't work. So I'd almost died, so I had cold mud crusting on my clothes, so Caster was a honry asshole who made me horny just being around him. If I lost my shit again and God forbid wrecked the bike, I'd have hell to pay. Trashing Tessa's kitchen had put me on her shit list comprised of flavourless means that all looked the same color and smelled worse than puke on a hot sidewalk for three days, and I bet that crashing one of the Bookkeeper's bikes would put me on an even worse list. 

Still, it wasn't like fury had an off switch. 

The drive back to Duke's compound took a little longer because I didn't know where I was going, and Caster had been fine to let me angry-drive for a while before pulling in front of me and guiding us home. The thorny vine security system uncurled itself and let us pass as we slowed our bikes to a crawl and moseyed into the courtyard. 

Still angry, both at myself at my situation and at Caster, being gentle with the bike and the book weren't high on my list of to dos. I yanked my helmet off, slammed it down, and twisted the satchel slung across my body to the back, smacking my butt with the flat of the tomb while I did it. 

"We need to talk, Matilda." 

I was surprised he even knew my name, and not a bit happy with the way he said it. Cocking my hips, I gave Caster my best fuck-with-me-if-you-wanna stare. "Oh yeah?" 

He adjusted on the bike but made no move to get off. "I'll continue working with you—" 

"Not like you had a choice." 

"—As long as you control yourself. I am an incubus, not just some puny human man. You need to learn the difference." 

"Control myself?" Like I was the one threatening to have sex with people left and right. 

"Next time you get wet," he said softly, too softly, "I can't be faulted for my actions." 

Three and a half year years of gender studies and women's rights came pouring out of my mouth in a torrent of outrage and indignation, "You choose to let yourself go and give into your baser male instincts because you feel entitled and emboldened by the three inches between your legs to lay claim to something that was never and will never be yours. Lust is not an excuse to force yourself on someone, and neither is that other someone smelling a certain way invitation to do anything. If I ever choose to sleep with you, it will be mutual, of my own volition; yes, will come out of my mouth to let you know I'm ready. No is not foreplay, it's not some reverse version of yes, and it's not a suggestion. Next time I get wet, I get wet. That shouldn't affect you in any shape or form considering it's my body and my right to do whatever I want with it. And it'll be a cold day in hell before I do you." 

With that, I turned and walked into the house, ready to eat whatever the equivalent of either ice cream or chocolate was in this world. His strangled half shout didn't even phase me, "It's more than three inches!" 

That's all he'd heard? Men. "Keep telling yourself that," I yelled back.



Fall Thru Ch. 07



Hey everyone, 

Yes, I've been gone for a while, but I'm sort of back now. I'm actually applying for MFA programs (wish me luck!), but I'll try to get these stories out when I can. 

Happy reading! 

Rosi 

*** 

Once Caster and I moved past the "screwing each other" part of our bizarre relationship, we worked well together. Like, surprisingly well. He took over training me from Fever in our second week on the job, and by our third week, we had signals and codes only we knew to help in less-than-friendly situations. That came in handy more times than I could count. Come week four, we were on fire. Duke sent us on five different assignments—one of them overnight—and we found out some of the juicy, juicy gossip in his region. 

The best part of the missions, overwhelmingly, was the traveling. I'd always had a travel bug, and the places we went satisfied the hell out of the little thing. There were witches, ghosts, weres, and fairies. Creatures both from mythology and modern paranormal romance novels that I wasn't ashamed to say I read on occasion, and they each had a different environment they lived in. Some weren't too different—faires still congregated near trees and merfolk still needed the large bodies of water—but others were complete opposites. 

With every new and amazing site or creature I saw, my strength in my path and the job I'd chosen intensified. Falling through the old-timey photo booth and landing on Yenos seemed like five lifetimes ago. Though I did still think of Brandon and James and what a horrible nanny I'd inadvertently been. I called the house once to check up on everyone, only to be told I was a terrible person, I'd never work in San Diego again, and my "shit" was on the curb. On the plus side, the boys were alive so there was that. 

The curtain door of my room whooshed open on oiled tracks and Fever sauntered in. She wore her usual ensemble of leather, but it sagged on her frame as if she'd lost weight. Still, even a few pounds lighter, the red haired fire demon was sexy as sin and if I wasn't strickly dicky . . . . 

I raised a brow from my spot on the couch as she used her hand to swing her body over onto the couch across from me. She propped up her legs, muddied boots leaving stains that'd never come out of the fabric. 

I paused Dance Moms—the show I'd started binge watching in my spare time because it made me feel more human for some reason—and smiled wide. It was my first day off in over a month and I was reveling in the fact that I didn't have to censor myself or walk on eggshells because I didn't understand the customs. "Feeling better, Fee?" 

When I'd went to her room this morning, Cherry told me that Fever was feeling terrible. For a second I was concerned until he waved it off and dismissed the whole situation with a "It's a girl thing." Enough said. 

She shrugged. "Stopped throwing up out of my ears." 

My eyes bulged and I whipped my head to her. "You're kidding me?" 

"Kidding you? What do children have to do with anything?" she glared at the frozen TV screen, no doubt dreading the marathon I was about to have her sit through. 

Last time I'd had even a few hours of free time we'd done what Fever wanted to do which consisted of swimming from the Iron First mermaid colony's Church after Fever practically boiled her ex-boyfriend alive because he'd spread a rumor that all her heat was external. (Basically he called her a frigid bitch.) The only good thing that had come out of the whole ordeal was that I 1) learned to swim really fast, and 2) finally understood what a "Church" was—Ramose's version of police. 

"Figure of speech," I supplied as I turned off the TV so she wouldn't glare so hard laser beams shot out of her eyes. Not that I'd seen her do that, but stranger things had happened. "Like really or seriously." 

She cocked her head. "Yes, I really threw up from my ears. Happens when you're pregnant with a ladon." She frowned and seemed to reconsider. "Maybe." 

Did I hear her correctly? No, no, I couldn't have. "You're pregnant?" 

Suddenly, she lurched forward and her whole face turned shade of lemon yellow that belonged on a custard pie. After a terrible retching sound that—I swear!—came from her ears, she held still. Very still. Swallowed once. Then finally turned and shrugged in what I assumed was a yes. 

"With Cherry's kid?" I still couldn't process that Fever, bad ass extraordinaire, was pregnant. With a baby. That she'd have to give birth to and take care of and mother. God, I'd skinned half of my body fighting with her once and she'd said, "Lick it. You're fine." 

The world obviously flipped on its axis. 

"That is what I said, Tills." Ugh, she was the only one who called me that and I hated it to no end. She collapsed back into the couch, the yellow fading to a mint green as she closed her eyes. "Took me long enough." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Cherry and I aren't biologically compatible. So we had to go through a lot." 

"Such as?" 

She raised her hand and began to tick of her fingers. I'm pretty sure she got the habit from me. "Tudo, I went to a high priestess to get a fertility spell. Had to flounce around naked like an idiot for half an chome. Then I went to Silver—remember him? The alchemist." 

"Vaguely." 

"He gave me a vile that was probably just shit so my body wouldn't totally shut down when the mages reconfigured my organs and put in new parts for the egg." 

The egg? I was afraid to ask. 

She sighed and seemed to sink deeper into the couch, her slight body absorbed by the cushions. "It's been a tough couple of mirth, but I'm finally pregnant." She half heartedly pumped her fist (another Tilly-ism). "Woo!" 

A sudden vision of Caster and I horizontal sans clothing popped into my head, and the warm heat that I'd felt before when I'd had the same vision froze over. Me, pregnant with his demon spawn egg followed next, and there was no way in Heaven, Hell, or any other place that that was happening. Caster and sex were officially water and oil. 

Fever lurched forward again and purple slime began to ooze out of her ears. "What the fuck?" I screamed, scrambling up the couch as the slime dripped in heavy globs down to her shoulder, the couch, the floor. 

She opened her mouth and blue water came out with—I shit you not—a tiny bright green fish swimming in it. Before she could tell me to calm down or make up some story about this being totally normal, I sprinted from the room and dashed across the grassy grounds to the red tents beneath the waterfall. I'd only been to the witches' tents once before when Fever had accidentally burned me and the healing tonic had run dry. That time, she hadn't used her "lick it" cure all. After a quick spell from one of the female witches and a soothing salve, I'd been hunky doory. I only hoped they could do the same for Fever. 

Pushing through the thick crimson tarp, I had a moment of displacement as if my mind was a head of my body and my torso was ahead of my feet. Nothing felt insync. But just as quickly, it passed and I stepped into a clean space with a wooden table and benches and millions of vials hanging from the ceiling and dotting the walls. The red tents on Duke's grounds weren't actually where the witches operated, they were just portals to Janos. 

A tinkling sound to my left made me turn to see a woman in a bright orange dress and head wrap step into the room with a bustle of herbs overflowing from the basket in her arms. She looked up and pale gray eyes met mine. "Tilly?" 

I tried to place her. Tall, skinny but not anorexic, skin so dark it almost had a blueish tint in the sun. Her one truly striking feature was her hair peeking through the plain, bright orange scarf. Blonde, very blonde ,and bizarrely natural looking. I still couldn't remember her name. "I'm so sorry, I forgot your name." 

"Ship." 

"Uh-huh. Okay." Wringing my hands, I tried to think of the best way to tell Ship that my friend was oozing purple stuff from her ears and puking fish. "Fever's in trouble." 

In a second, the woman's features tightened. The basket in her arms tipped precariously against her hip. "What is it?" 

"She's sick. There's purple slime coming from her ears and she's throwing up water with fishes in it." It was only one fish, but still. 

"Is the water blue?" 

No it was pink. What kind of question was that? Oh wait, I'm not on Earth. "Yes, the water is blue." 

Before I could think to cover my ears she spun to the doorway she'd come from and belted out, "Emergency! Fire demon miscarrying ladon!" 

The hanging vials swung and the floor rolled as four other witches rushed into the room and began grabbing various things from the shelves. "Come on, Tilly," Ship said, taking my arm and leading me back threw the flap. Again I felt a moment of displacement, but I didn't have time to come back to myself before we were running across the lawn. We were halfway to between the tents and my room when my body felt like itself and every cell fell back into place. 

We ran faster, but I stumbled about five feet from the bamboo halfway, eyes going wide. Gasping, flopping fishes dotted the grass where the hallway opened to the field and a small stream of water flowed over its side. 

The air charged for a split second, lightning flashing across my skin in a sensation I'd felt only once before when another witch heeled me. 

La Sirene, La Sirene, La Sirene 

Keep these fish safe and clean 

Cloak them in the waters so they may live 

To them your blessing, I beg you give 

Instantly, the water began to bend and shape around the fish in orbs. They floated on the blades of grass like much bigger water droplets. Somehow my jaw didn't hit the floor and I didn't hit the fish orbs as bolted onto the hallway. A few steps from my open door, Ship stopped me. "Stay here!" 

I nodded numbly as four other witches knocked me aside and water splashed my pants, soaking into my skin. My mind and body froze from one horrible second, one filled with every frozen second I'd ever had where my choices felt limited and my power obsolete."What do I do?" The words seemed forced from my throat, not entirely of my own volition. 

Was this a panic attack? No, no, I had one of those in the bug infested cave when I almosted died. So this was . . . helplessness, my mind supplied. This was what being helpless felt like, because I knew there was nothing I could do for Fever. 

And then she screamed. One that begged for the pain to go away, to stop, and for the person she loved to be with her. I knew the sound, and I knew what to do. My body snapped up, unfreeze, broke into a run. 

Cherry. Probably Duke. I needed to get them. 

I ran like there was fire on my ass. 

*** 

Seven hours later, sitting on the cold, wet bamboo my knees drawn up outside of my room with a violently angry Caster, a tight-faced Duke, his wife, and their two kids, I was exhausted. Everyone in the compound had come to see Fever after word got out, but Cherry had turned them all away, and when Fever needed her significant other, Duke had taken over the job. Still, the people hadn't come empty handed and hundred of well-wishing gifts of potions, food, and other things I couldn't name lined the corridor for what seemed like miles. 

"I know this isn't the best time to say so," Duke started. He sat on the other side of the wall, his back pressed to the ruined sheet coverings with his wife curled into his side, their arms wrapped tightly around the two sleeping girls between them. "But Fever and Blue were working on the missing persons' case. We've had opie-janet disappear so far." 

That many? Holy hell. I'd heard snippets about the case here and there, but I hadn't really paid attention. 24 though? That was . . . 

"You want us to take over?" Caster growled, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he stomped across the creaking hallway like a child having a tantrum. I still wasn't sure why the incubus was here, other than to show solidarity for his fellow demon bookkeeper. Whatever the reason though, I'd discovered something else about Duke and Caster during the few hours we'd been together: they hated each other's guts. 

"The other bookkeepers all have their tasks and while I could pull them away, they're already deep into their assignments," Duke whisper-growled, eyes narrowed with his fangs peeking out from his lips. "You're the only ones without anything in depth or pressing." 

I knew why. I was still a human, and no matter how fun and interesting the last month had been, my loyalties still remained with my country on Earth. 

"But if this is so important, why not pull together the citizens?" 

Duke looked at me, his eyes drawn. "Not everyone would be able to set aside their grievances to solve this issue. I would have contacted the individual Churches but those who have gone missing are from all over." Duke sighed. "I'm not asking if you want this assignment, I'm giving it to you. You will start tomorrow." 

Actually all I had to do tomorrow was eat, sleep, and go to the bathroom. The whole patriarchal side of this world was really starting to grate on my nerves, and I was about to rip Duke a new one that was equal parts pissed off feminist and tired, angry bitch when the tapestry to my room slid open. 

Ship stepped out in her damp orange dress smeared with purple slime and other things I wasn't too sure about. Her headpiece was skewed, tendrils of blonde hair falling out and clinging to her sweat soaked skin. She looked worn, but there was at least a smile on her face. "We stopped the water. Fever is safe." 

"And the egg?" Duke's wife asked softly. I think those were the first words I heard her say. After I'd burst into Duke's family dinner, past his guards, and told him about Fever, the vampiress had calmly gathered her girls and come with us. She'd sat and held her husband's hand through the worst of Fever's screams and the terrifying gasps that had followed. 

Ship turned to the vampiress and nodded. "The egg is safe, too." 

There was a collective sigh of relief, one I felt down to my toes. I scrambled up from the floor and hugged the hell out of the Ship. Fever had been my first friend here, and even though I'd only found out she was pregnant a few hours ago the fact that she and her child were safe was one of the happiest moments of my life. "Thank you so much, Ship," I said, squeezing harder. 

She returned the embrace with far less force. "It's all thanks to you, Tilly. If you'd have waited, Fever and the egg would have died." 

I felt a warm hand on my back and pulled away from Ship to see Caster crowding my space. His dark eyes were unreadable, but they were pretty much always that way. The only hint that anything was going on with him were the near violent swirlings on his midnight skin. He looked like the Van Gogh painting The Starry Night come to life with far little less stars and a whole lot of night. 

My lips parted to maybe ask him to take his hand off me or what was wrong—I'm not sure—and he hugged me. It wasn't the I'm-trying-to-unhook-your-bra type of hug either, but a genuine one of relief where his muscles sagged and his voice came out a bit shaky. "Thank you for saving my cousin." 

The hesitation I'd felt when he first hugged me dissipated, and tentatively I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him back. I wanted to say something that would calm the shaking in his muscles, stop the rapid fire beating of his heart against my chest, take away the worry and panic that had eaten at him for hours, but I was stunned. Fever and Caster were cousins? They didn't look related at— 

My thoughts stopped as I took in a deep breath. Caster smelled so good. The kind of good that made a girl loose her panties and her mind in the same breath. And he felt good. Thick, corded muscles, strong arms enveloping, surrounding, conquering me. Wetness raced from between my legs and down my thighs as I moaned and writhed against him. 

"Pull back, Caster," someone said from far away, I think. "She is not it." 

Caster's answer rumbled against my lips as something solid and cool greeted my back. "She is." 

His kiss was equal parts gentle and brutal. He sucked my lips playfully before nipping them with his teeth, and parting them with his tongue. The demon didn't taste right either. Not that the taste was wrong, but it was too good. As if this was what I'd been waiting for all my life. Caster's arms around me, his tongue in my mouth, all felt too right and too normal and not at all like the near-forced attraction back at the cave. Caster felt . . . right. A salve to an ache I never knew I had, but one that I was now painfully aware of. 

I tilted my head back, drawing him deeper, lengthening the kiss. "More," I gasped, letting my arms roam across his back as I tilted my pelvis and tried to take him inside my body through two layers of clothes. I could do it too. I knew I could. We would fit. 

Suddenly I was cold, freezing, and Caster wasn't in reach. I stumbled, falling onto the went bamboo flooring as shiver after shiver wracked my body. They were the shivers tinged with pain, like needles being driven all over my skin in waves. My soul had been ripped from me, all the happiness in the world torn and shredded down the middle along with all I was. 

"I warned you," someone whispered viciously. I looked up to see Duke looming over a dazed Caster sprawled on the floor. "I should kill you for that." 

Caster shook his head like a dog coming in from a rain pour. "She didn't say no." 

"You didn't give her a choice." 

"You know that's a lie." 

"She does not understand." 

"And I do?" Caster growled. 

"She is human." 

"She is mine." 

Duke's wife removed herself from her children, and for the first time that night came over to me and set a cool hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright?" 

If I could follow the conversation Duke and Caster were having at all, then no, I wasn't reat. "Could be worse." It could always be worse. 

Ship was beside me in the next second, though concern wasn't exactly what she was throwing off, more annoyance than anything. The look she gave me was weird, hard. "Idiotic demons," she hissed, shaking her head. 

Ship helped me up with a supporting hand while Duke's wife untied the scarf around her neck. There was a grisly scar where her neck met her shoulder, like she'd been bitten by a wild animal and it'd tried to take out half her throat. "Here." She wrapped the scarf around my shoulders and rubbed her cool hands up and down my arms. "Better?" 

To say I was surprised was an understatement. If not for her strangely hued eyes and the fangs peeking out from her lips, I'd have thought she was human. "My name's Penny." Not a totally uncommon human name. 

"You're a vampire?" 

She smiled and removed her hands as Duke continued to yell at Caster who was beginning to yell right back. "Now I am." 

The way she said it was a might too cryptic for me. It was sort of like a parent saying "Don't go into the basement." Not because there were dangerous tools or no lights down there, but because the dead bodies stacked in the corner would freak me out and then I'd have to join them. 

I turned and glanced at Ship. Bad idea because she was looking at Caster and Duke like she wanted to strangle and kiss them. Awk-ward. "Can we see Fever now, Ship?" 

The witch turned back to me and her look softened. "Yes, but she's still a bit drowsy. I can give you box catch." Five minutes. 




Fall Thru Ch. 07



Penny gripped my hand and led me into what was now Fever's room. With the water damage and the slime coating everything, there was no way I was sleeping here. We found Fever on the bed with Cherry laid down beside her. Her eyes were closed and she looked worse for wear. But there wasn't a weird yellowish tint to her skin and she wasn't leaking from every orifice now. 

Releasing my hand, Penny went and knelt beside the bed. "Fever?" she queried quietly. 

The fire demoness stirred and shifted her head. "Hey, Pen." Her gaze was a bit cloudy, but when it touched me her eyes seemed to clear. "Tills . . ." her voice cracked, "Thank you so much." 

Tears rushed out of my eyes as I nodded my head. "No thanks necessary. Just make sure it doesn't happen again." 

Her laugh was wane. "Can't make any promises." 

We didn't stay past the five minutes because Fever could barely stay awake for two of them. Cherry thanked me and Penny before crawling back into bed beside his woman. 

As we left Fever and Cherry, Penny stopped me with a soft hand on my arm. "Would you like to stay with Duke and me tonight?" 

"Yes," I nodded quickly. "Yes, thank you. That would be so great. Let me just pack a bag."



Fall Thru Ch. 08



Duke was still agitated the next morning over breakfast. Whatever fight he and Caster got into had definitely soured him. On the plus side, his family made up for it. 

"But Mrs. Rose says that the Dragon Rising wasn't really about dragons, but djinns," Cream, the older of the twin girls by three minutes (she'd proudly told me seven times) gushed around a bite of food. "Have you met a djinn yet? Daddy says that they're all on Nagios because djinns are demons. But Fever's a demon and she's here so I think they're djinn here too. I haven't met tudo, but I will next ralph! We're going to Turning to see the Point djinn sect." 

If she took a breath, I didn't see it. 

"Cream," Penny said to her daughter, laying a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder. The girls looked like the spitting image of their mother, all pale cream skin, round faces, high cheek bones, Cupid's bow lips, wide amber eyes, and thick brown hair that curled at the ends. "I want you and Chlorine to get ready for school." 

There was a brief moment when mother and daughters had a silent battle of wills before the little girls dutifully hopped down from their seats and left the room through a side door. The maids came in a second later to clear the girls' plates, brown uniform skirts dragging softly against the stone floor the only sound in the room. 

I took that moment to breathe and digest. There hadn't really been time for that this morning. The girls had woken me up, much to the chagrin of their nanny, by jumping on my bed and singing a song that really didn't translate right. No time for me to get a shower or change, but at least I'd been able to brush my teeth and wash my face so I only looked shitty instead of awful. Which still made me completely out of place in the dining room. It wasn't formal or anything, but with the red colored stone work that graced the floor and walls and what I could only assume was green wood for the high beams and the table and six surround chairs (their designer had an interesting vision), the place looked way too nice for my crusty jean-like pants and t-shirt. 

"Penny, would you leave us?" Duke said politely, setting his napkin on his empty plate. The vampire looked normal in his customary suit and tie, the only appearance of his stressful night being the slightly paler tint to his skin and the dark bags hanging under his eyes. Dude needed blood like I needed a shower. 

Smoothing a careful hand down her maroon bandage dress, Penny nodded and rose. "I'll go help the girls get ready." 

An ominous silence settled over the breakfast table as the click of Penny's heels faded. "I meant what I said glass-hoax, Tilly," Duke began, "You and Caster will take over the missing person's case." 

"Okay." 

"You both need to be on your best behavior. Think before you act. Follow the customs." 

"Okay," I said pointedly. It wasn't like I went out of my way to screw up every situation, things just happened. 

"There will also be no sex between you and Caster—" 

"There never was. But thank you for—" 

"—and if I find out there was, I'll place you under house arrest— 

"—having such faith in me. House arrest? Who I have sex with isn't any of your— 

"—and make the next ralph hell for you. And everything you do is my business." 

"—business. So please get the hell out of my panties!" 

He blinked slowly. Once. Twice. "Are you done?" 

"Are you?" I shot out, hands slapping the table with enough force to make my palms sting. "This might be your planet and your home, but like I told Caster when he pulled his patriarchal bullshit: my body's mine. You have no dominion over it." 

A smile creased the planes on his face, brightening up the shadows that had settled there yesterday. "Remind me what you were studying in college." 

"I am studying Women's Studies. Call this a break." 

"That explains it." I didn't pretend not to understand exactly what he meant. 

With his palms flat on the table, Duke pushed himself out of the chair. "I'll have your room cleaned by the time you get back. In the event that doesn't happen, you're welcome to stay here." 

"Thank you." I pushed my plate forward as the maids came back out of the woodwork to quickly and efficiently clean away the remnants of our breakfast. "I'm going to meet Caster in the back courtyard. I'm guessing he knows where we're going." 

Duke's hands balled into fists on the table, and I could feel the violence emanating from him like a heater on high in a car. His golden-blonde hair practically glowed. "I wasn't able to tell him, so I'll tell you. The 

of you will be going to the houses of the most recent missing persons. It will probably take you a ralp." 

Meaning I'd have to pack a bag and hope I didn't forget anything. 

"I've called ahead and booked a lodging for you and Caster on this trip. Opie rooms at every location. Tudo for each of you," he added pointedly like every second I was near Caster my clothes came off and I started writhing on the floor. "Olive will send you the information later this afternoon, so please have your CD with you." 

CD was short for Communication Device, which the magical equivalent of a cell phone in a spinning top. Took me forever and a day to figure out how it worked. It was silver and black with three functions. Tap the top, spin it, and it would write and and recite whatever message it received. Tap it twice, spin, and it would write out the message you want and then sent it to whomever you choose. The third was for emergencies. But since I forgot the things of my bike during every emergency, I hadn't been able to use that function.All I knew was that I had to tap it three times and it would help me. 

A slimy slither to my right heralded Duke's personal secretary. Olive was sort of like Cherry with the reflective scales that changed color with her mood, except her's were usually a cobalt blue and she had a much longer tail that Cherry's, with a wicked looking spiked ball at the end. Arm like appendages peeled from her sides as she handed me a thick stack of papers in a muted lime green. "Thanks." 

Olive nodded. She didn't talk, at least not that I'd heard. 

I flipped through the stack quickly before looking up and raising a brow at Duke. "These aren't in English." 

He'd straightened to his full height and was whispering to a maid, but he stopped the moment I spoke and turned back to me. "I think you'll be fine if you've truly been studying our alphabet like you told me." 

Was he trying to call bullshit on me? Tough luck, because I usually did what I put my mind to. Snapping the papers closed, I shot him my best eat shit grin. "It'll be a breeze." With that, I left the dining room to pack, meet Caster, and not fuck his brains out. 

*** 

"'Til mother calls us home," Caster intoned, a goodbye to our final family of the day. We'd been working for five days now, seen fairies, giants, goblins, satyrs, yet each story sounded eerily familiar. Their child came home from school, went to their room or a quiet place, and when the parent went to go find them they were gone. 

Shutting the Bookkeeper tomb on my lap, I looked up into the tear streaked faces of Infinity's parents. Dutch and Carol were sand elves from the Glass clan. Like most sand elves they were tanned to a golden glow that practically shimmered in the sunlight, their hair was bleached blonde, ears pointed, fingernails overly long , with eyes a mix of colors that donated their elf heritage. 

They were beautiful creatures but right now, the parents in front of me looked frightened and distraught. Infinity was their only child, and as Caster had told me, elves had a hard time conceiving. The girl might be the only child they ever had. 

Caster and I stood up at the same time, and I gave a final nod to the distraught parents before me. "We'll do everything we can to find them," I said quietly. 

I didn't think they heard me. 

We were near an expansive ocean that looked either light pink or blood red depending on the depth. It was where the Glass clan lived as the second largest sand elf tribe in Ramose. Tribe used to make me think of ratty teepees and loin-clothed men. Not so much on Yenos. The Glass clan lived in a giant sand castle that the Little Mermaid would have killed for. Everything was made from the sea or the sand and held together with magic. It took us almost half an hour to find our way back to our bikes with the help of our guards. Plenty of time for me to marinate on the interview we'd just conducted and review our past seven. I kept coming back to the same thought I had for the last five days: why teenagers? 

I could see a group of teens running away, but they'd all do so at the same time. And there would have been signs from the kids. Hoarding food or money, feeling unsettled or restless in their life. There was none of that. 

What if they were killed? There could be a serial killer on the loose hunting teens. But in all the crime dramas I watched (my only point of reference on this missing persons' case) there were similarities. All born on the same day. All female. All the same ethnicity, height, school, diesease, something they all had in common. I had yet to find a single similarity among all of them besides that fact that they were in the weird teenager, not-quite-adult-yet age range: 17-22. 

Kidnapping had been my next guess. But there'd been no ransom, no contact of the parents after the disappearances, nothing to suggest kidnapping. Of course, slavery was still alive and well, but Caster had disavowed that. There was no way a person or even group could get away with kidnapping what was shaping up to be nearly thirty people. And if they were slaves, he'd said, they'd go after children much younger, female and exotic. 

That didn't fit any of the missing persons. So I was back to my original question: why teenagers? 

"We're done for the hoax," Caster called over his shoulder as we exited the castle and found our bikes. I was too entrenched in my thoughts to take one last wide-eyed, stunned look at the Little Mermaid Wet Dream Castle I'd come out of. 

The teens weren't part of the same clubs, groups, schools, or social circles. That was the first question I'd asked to the third parent because I'd been looking for any pattern. But no, little werewolf Wind-Runner went to pack school, hunted with other wolves, and was a showy kid who had more of a fan club than a circle of friends. But with a name like that I couldn't blame him. Interestingly enough, werewolf names were the most normal of the names I'd come by so far. They were given to the wolves after their first run, and only because of a striking quality they possessed. Wind-Runner was the fasted in his age group which is how he'd gotten his name, or so his parents told me. 

Something hard rapped me on the head and I looked up to see Caster standing in front of me with his knuckles poised. "Are you listening?" 

This was the first time he'd been within five feet of me since we started, and I felt acutely aware of that. No sex! My brain screamed as my body seemed to do an inventory check of itself to make sure we were raring to go. Panties wet? Check. Nipple hard? Check, check. Panting Breath? Check. Eyes staring a hole through Casters leather pants? Oh, a hard check and hell yes on that. 

"Yes, just . . ." I searched for anything other than the blatant sexual things crossing my mind. "Thinking." 

"I can smell it." 

Glaring at the incubus, I nodded to his erection. "When was the last time you had sex?" Caster needed to be on a steady diet of vagina or I started to get all hot and bothered when he was close by. Though thinking about Caster did not so great things to me. Like make me almost homicidally jealous. Not that I wanted to rip women's eyes out of anything. 

"A ralph." 

I stumbled back and hit my hip against my bike. A week! That had to be the longest he'd ever gone without sex while partnered with me. "What the—Why didn't you do it, um, glass-hoax dear?" 

Those satyr girls had been all about four letter words. Fuck and come and dick and more. He could have very easily had an orgy yesterday night. 

His look was grim and his eyes didn't quite meet mine. "I've been tired. There hasn't been time to rest, much less indulge myself." 

"It's not an indulgence if it keeps you alive." 

The narrowing of his eyes let me know I was toeing a line. "Would you like to offer yourself?" 

Oh boy, would I! "No," I coughed, tapping down on my way too happy lady bits. I settled my hands on my hips and tried my stern nanny face on. "Let's find a brothel and get you settled instead." 

He shook his head and I think it was as much to say no as it was to clear it. "Whore houses are outlawed on Yenos. It'd bring too many demons over. And I'm not in the mood." 

He was such a freakin' liar. Bulges in pants did not lie. I tried to remember that Duke had said not to have sex with Caster. In fact, the vampire had threatened both of us. That still didn't stop the urges from flowing, or from my eyes roaming Caster's swirling body and imagining him over, under, and inside me, screaming for me to come as I spurred him on hard with teeth and nails and my heels digging in his ass. 

Hmm. 

"Get on your bike," I demanded in a none-too-demanding tone. The tone was all fuck me Caster, please. Take me on my bike and make me come. "Now." 

A smile flitted across his lips before he turned and walked awkwardly back to his bike. He looked like his legs hurt, or maybe the thing between them was a little too hard to walk around. I mentally snickered as he settled on the bike and I did the same on mine. We were off in a second, driving to what I hoped was the hotel and not some desolate place for the incubus to screw my brains out. 

My first intuition was right, and we arrived at a collection of buildings that looked suspiciously similar to a Motel 6. Some things never change. The second I stepped off the bike, Caster's sexy incubus power hit me like a semi speeding down a highway. My knees actually buckled. 

"I'm going to take care of myself," the demon growled savagely, his tattoos moving so fast his skin looked like a smudge in the night. "Get the rooms." 

His words left me cold with distaste thick on my tongue. I knew what "take care" meant and I didn't like it one bit. Though why I should care was beyond me. I didn't feel this way before the kiss he'd given me in the hallway, and it's not like a press of lips suddenly meant everything he was was mine and any female who tried to touch him would lose a hand. It didn't. 

Then why are you acting like it does. 

The sun had set and the night was a calming blanket of dark blue universe, illuminated only by soft glow of solar panel lights. I ignored my inner voice and walked through a front door that looked suspiciously like white-painted oak and approached the counter. The floor was some kind of dark wood, covered with a thick rug set with geometric pattern. The patterned rug matched the two chairs set to the side with a coffee table and small lamp between them. The walls were beige, covered with paintings of different nature scenes. It was warm and inviting, the kind of place I could see myself going to on Earth. 

A minotaur stood behind the counter flipping through a magazine. "How can I help you?" From the voice, I gathered the minotaur was a guy. 

"My partner and I have a reservation. The Magistrate should have booked it." 

He never looked up from his magazine as his tail flicked out and gathered two keys, setting them on the table before that same tail reached somewhere and pulled out a piece of paper and then a pen. "Sign your name. Stamp in blood. Your rooms are on opposite sides. Tudo-beats-opie and tree-opie-sage." 

"Which tudo's mine?" 

"Whichever tudo you like." He flipped a page. "Sign and stamp." 

About two weeks ago, I finally learned how to spell my name. It's in Standard, which is the sort of agreed upon written language of all three planets when sending correspondence. The mages came up with it way-back-when they also created a way for all species to verbally communicate with each other. To me, Standard looked like a million snakes that got loose in a desert. Lots of dots and squiggly lines. 

I looked around for the stamp but couldn't find it. None of the other hotels had made me do this, so I was a little confused. "How do I—" 

"Bite your thumb bloody and press it on the page next to your name." 

So the hotel got an F- for service. It was still a step up from camping like the last time (sharing a small tent with Caster during our second week together after he'd had sex with god only knows how many had charted on the Top Most Embarrassingly Awkward Moments of My Life). Wincing as I bit my thumb, I had a moment of panic when I thought about all the contracts on Earth and how they roped you into things you really didn't want to be in (I was pretty sure Apple had rights to my soul), but somehow I knew that if any of this was dangerous Duke wouldn't have sent me. I was still a liability in his eyes, which was why I usually got the less dangerous assignments, including signing a hotel bill. 

"You're all set." 

Nodding, I took one of the keys, trying to remember which numbers the syllables written on the tag stood for. "Can you give my partner his key?" 

"Can't do it yourself?" 

If there was a letter grade I could give that was lower than an F- the minotaur would get it hands down. Leaning on the counter, I slapped on my sweetest smile and said in my most sugary voice, "My partner's an incubus currently fucking his way through one or two females. I'd like not to have to see evidence of that because I'm straddling a very fine line where I don't throw myself at him and beg for something that I want so bad it's killing me not to go to him right now. So, would you please give my partner his key so I can go sleep alone and forget this conversation ever happened?" 

He nodded dumbly. "Sure." 

"Thanks," I tossed out as I strode away and back to my bike. 

An hour later, I was settled down in bed, legs crossed, chin balanced in my palm, looking at the files spread before me. Caster could still be out or he could be back, but I didn't really want to think about him, so diving into work seemed the best. It's what I'd done when my boyfriend had broken up with me because I "didn't have time for him." Work was a fabulous distraction. 

Red marked translations covered the pages before me courtesy of the English to Standard dictionary Duke had given me. Not that the translations helped very much, I was still nowhere near figuring out why the teenagers were disappearing that I had been a couple hours ago talking to the sand elves. 

On a sigh, I reached for the page closest to me, scanning the piece of paper again even though I'd pretty much committed everything to memory. Pure was a 16 year-old shifter that had disappeared three weeks ago from her home. Flipping the page over, I looked at the small collection of pictures on the back of her room. Table, chair, books, bed, desk— 

"Wait a second." I peered closer to the photo, looking at the small black satin bag on the corner of the bed. I'd seen the bag before, I was sure of it. 

Flipping the other files over, I searched for other black bags like I was trying to find Waldo. The next black bag lay innocuous and inconsequential half-in, half-out of a were-lion pack school. I looked back to Pure's picture and compared the two photos side by side. It looked like the same bag. Turning the bathroom picture over, I looked at the name at the top of the document. Steal. I didn't have to read the rest of the information to know Steal was a 23 year-old were-lion who'd disappeared nine days ago from his school's bathroom in between classes. 




Fall Thru Ch. 08



My hands flew over the other documents, flipping them over, scanning the photos for anything. But not all the photos had the black bag, and not all the files had pictures. Flopping back on the bed, I looked over my options. So far six of the files had pictures of the black bag, or rather a black bag. The small bags looked the same, but looking the same wasn't exactly being the same. I could tell Caster what I'd learned and hope that he didn't say the bag was common or I could wait and see if the next missing person's place had a similar black bag. 

And what if they did? It's not exactly like my Women's Studies degree prepared me for life as a detective. Then again it was a multi-disciplinary study, so maybe it did prepare me. After all, I'd been taught to look outside the box, see people for who they were and not what they were. It was all about thinking and analyzing and not necessarily getting to the right answer but getting to a place where multi answers to the same problem existed. 

So here was my problem: why were teenagers disappearing? 

Maybe the black bags would be the answer. Maybe they wouldn't. Instead of trying to track down one things they all had in common, I had to look for more broad connections. There was that whole six degrees things to think about. 

Pushing myself back up to a sitting position, I sighed gustily, ran a hand through my hair, scribbled down "Black bag" on the tore off piece of Bookkeeper paper I'd been using for my notes, and set to work looking for multi answers and connections. 

*** 

Morning rolled around with the sun bright and cheery in the sky and hard, pounding knocks from Caster at my door. "Wake up, Tilly. We have work." 

The sheets felt like cotton and I'd rolled around on them for as long as I could yesterday before sleep claimed me. Honestly, the room felt so much like something I'd find on Earth—sans the very complicated inter-species bathroom set up—that I pretended I was still on there. Vacation time off the beach. My parents would call in the morning, ask what I was doing. "Chilin' in the hotel," I'd respond while contemplating getting off my ass and eating or sleeping some more. Sleep usually won out. All of this I thought of in the space it took me to fall asleep and then my dreams were filled with the most mundane, everyday stuff that I'd hated before and missed desperately now. Waking up to the sound of church bells. Making coffee or maybe tea while I played on my phone or checked my emails. Grabbing my bike from the garage, and pedaling over to Starbucks because I make shit coffee that doesn't taste sugary or chocolatey enough. Rolling my eyes at the people on their laptops who swear that the book or screenplay their working on is the next best thing to their friend who sits across from them. 

Boring, mundane, everyday life. 

"Wake up, Tilly. I'm coming in if you don't," Caster threatened. 

"Coming," I called, throwing off the sheets and padding barefoot across the mauve carpet. I threw the door open and glared up into Caster's stupidly handsome face. His entire body eclipsed the sun, seeming to absorb the rays so it looked almost night still. Not that I could focus on the area around him long, Caster had a way of completely taking up my mind and body whenever he came within five feet of me. I took those five feet back and a deep breath in of Caster-free air. 

"We're leaving," he said from the threshold, running a hand over his face. On closer inspection, he looked tired, like he hadn't gotten any sleep. Didn't need to think about why that was. "Get dressed." 

I looked over my shoulder at the complicated clock thing on my bed side table. "isn't like seven—I mean spindle? Our first family isn't until tudo." My priorities were sleep, review my findings, and nap. In that order. 

"Duke sent word. Milan's prodigy has gone missing." 

What? "His prodigy?" 

"Yes." Casually, Caster crossed his arms and leaned against the door jamb. He was getting a little too comfortable for my taste. He scanned my body from my naked toes, past the over long t-shirt I used as a nightgown, to my face. His eyes didn't stay there long though. "Mages can't have children organically. They clone themselves and create prodigies." 

"Ooookaaay." I didn't really care about all that. I was more concerned with the obvious lack of satisfaction on the incubus's face. There weren't waves of lust coming off him, which meant the demon had "eaten" so I wasn't sure why he was still looking at me like a juicy steak. 

"I need you to get ready." 

"Gimme a sec." 

Caster shook his head. "I don't understand you." 

"Give me time to get ready," I said clearly, omitting all the colloquialisms clawing at my tongue. 

An hour later I was dressed in the unofficial Bookkeeper uniform of tight leather (borrowed from Fevers leather trove), with my overnight bag under my seat, and the wannabe Motel 6 behind me. Caster and I rode for what felt like three hours, only stopping to pee and eat. The demon still looked fatigued, but if he was he didn't complain or mention it. 

Early afternoon swung around and we pulled up to an innocuous white tent set in the middle of a very busy town of dwarves. Emblazoned on both sides of the tent was a crest that what looked like images of the four elements. As we swung off our bikes and gathered our gear, two girls in white long dresses and silver capulets entered the tents, giggling with books in hand. 

I nodded to the opening of the tent. "This the school?" 

Caster unsheathed the last of his weapons and locked up his bike before turning to me and answering, "Yes, one of the entrances. It's the only school that accepts from all of the three planets without prejudice. It's a haven from the constant bickering and bad blood, meant to promote awareness and acceptance." 

"Uh, cool." It wasn't like I could follow that up by saying Earth had the same thing. We didn't. Yes, there were international schools in different countries, but it wasn't the same thing. Not at all. The American school I'd gone to when I did my stint in Egypt, Rajac, didn't promote peace and acceptance. It didn't really do anything except berate the students that chose to go into Art fields and prize the students who went into science ones. 

Caster led the way as we walked through the tent. There was a moment of displacement, almost exactly like the one I felt with the red witches' tents, but it was slightly different. I shook off the feeling and took a step forward. 

"Well damn." The school wasn't exactly a building, more like a giant, metal, square nest. It surrounded me on all sides with a wide expanse of blue-black beyond it. There had to be glass or something, because it was completely clear beneath my feet, making me feet like I was perpetually about to fall. 

All around us, students walked around like nothing was wrong, as if begin in a giant metal nest was total normal. "Come on" Caster grunted from a few feet in front of me. "We have a meeting." 

The bag with the book in it tugged at my hip, pulling the thick strap tight across my chest. Adjusting it, I moved fast and sidled up next to Caster. Besides the nest, there wasn't much to see. It all sort of looked the same with all the students wearing the dress and capelet thing. We turned a few corners—Caster knew exactly where he was going apparently—and arrived at higher-ups office. I only knew that because there were three very ostentatious crests frosted on three side of the glass wall and the floor. After a second, a voice I recognized called us in. 

Milan was sitting behind a glass desk when we walked in, wearing the same white dress thing, silver capulet, and a silver hat. All the walls were frosted glass and the two chairs in front of Milan's desk were silver. I detected a theme. 

"Tilly—Caster," Milan nodded in greeting to us. 

Caster bowed slightly in return. "Milan." 

I nodded to the mage and barrelled ahead. "Well, I guess you know why we're here." I stepped forward and took a seat in one of the chairs, waiting for Milan to dish out the goods. Book open, pen poised, the sooner we conducted this interview the better. 

"My prodigy Spell disappeared opie hoax ago," Milan began as Caster took his seat. "I didn't know that Spell was gone in the beginning, but after a hoax I suspected." 

"Why only then?" Caster asked as I took notes. 

"Mage prodigies often live separate lives from their creators. To not hear from Spell was not unusual. With all the disappearances, I became worried." 

I scribbled down the important parts of the conversation, but it seemed to go along the same lines as the other three interviews we'd conducted. There was no evidence linking the missing persons to each other, and there were no other similarities besides their age. Not all of the teens had the same features, some attitudes, same likes and dislikes. There was no surface level connection that we could spot. Or maybe Caster wasn't asking the right questions. 

"Milan," I interrupted the mage, pausing in my note taking. They both turned to me, Caster mildly irritated and Milan curious. "Did your prodigy do any volunteer work? Have any after school jobs? Romeo and Juliet love affair?"  

Milan turned his multi hued gaze on me, eyes searching. "No to all tree. It would be impossible for Spell to have an affair of any kind." 

"Well, um . . ." Something just wasn't adding up here. Milan was a higher up in the hierarchy of the planets. Duke could call in a moments notice for a rogue human girl and Milan would be there. On top of that, the mage was a director of a school meant to promote peace and awareness. With a parent (or whatever Milan was to Spell) as important as that, there was no way the younger mage could run away. Kidnapping was also skeptical. 

So why Spell? Why these teenagers? God, I felt like I was missing something huge! Something right in front of my face. 

"Does Spell have a locker or something?" I finally asked. We hadn't found anything at the other places we went to, but there wasn't anything else I could think of. Maybe a black bag. 

"Something similar, yes." Milan rose. "I'll take you there." 

Caster and I walked out of the office following Milan. I was still deep in contemplation when we finally reached a wall of silver cylinders covered with a thick plate of frosted glass. It looked like it belonged in some underground New York art show than in a school. 

"Classification Mage. Spell. Class belt," Milan said to the wall. Instantly the cylinders began to move, shifting like checker pieces until they stopped and a frosted glass cylinder with blue inscription planted itself in front of Milan. The mage reached forward and did a series of finger swipes that reminded me of someone trying to unlock a smartphone. The glass rippled like water on a lake before disappearing completely, leaving an open cylinder with books and other school supplies inside. 

The mage stepped aside and waved us forward. "This is Spell's section." 

Caster thanked the man as I quickly slid in front of the incubus and started to rifle through Spell's personal effects. There wasn't much there. Books, more books, pencil-things, and assorted knick knacks. The only thing that was even remotely interesting was a crushed velvet-like bag. It was black. 

This is it. My fingers closed around the bag as I tugged it out. Spell was now the seventh person to have a small black bag, and I didn't believe in coincidences. Tugging the bag open, I felt inside for something—anything—to explain the mages' disappearance. What I found was a little bit of dust and a whole bunch of nothing. 

"What are you holding, Tilly?" 

I jumped at Caster's voice. Well, somebody's on edge. "Um . . ." I hedged as I turned around. "Just a bag." I held it up, at once hoping it was important and maybe the key to everything and at the same time hoping it meant nothing at all. I'd rather have my hopes crushed now then let them get too high. The higher the hopes, the more crushing the fall. 

Caster plucked the bag out of my grasp and turned to Milan. "Was Spell seriously injured recently?" 

The mage shook his head. "Not recently. However, last circle Spell lost an arm." 

"Lost an arm?" 

Milan explained, "Those types of bags are medical ones used by alchemists to heal extreme injuries. Spell's arm grew back." 

"Oh." I could remember seeing something in the files about medical injuries, but the injuries hadn't been the same, and some had varied. The only thing that had been true for all of them was that kids on this planet got hurt a lot. 

"It is odd that Spell would still have the bag after all this time," Milan remarked off handedly, his face not giving away a hint of emotion. 

"It is." Caster nodded slowly and looked back over to me. "Who was Spell's alchemist at the time?" he addressed the question to Milan but he kept his eyes trained on me. 

"Marker." 

Marker. I'd seen that name too, once or twice in the files with the black bags. 

"If you have Marker's address, Tilly and I will pay a visit." 

I caught Milan's nod out of the corner of my eye. "It's on my office. If you'll follow me back . . ." 

We couldn't stay longer after we got the address from Milan. It was obvious the mage didn't know any more and we'd asked all the questions we could, with more about the alchemist Spell had seen than was probably necessary. Exiting the school, my hopes weren't entirely crushed because the bag hadn't been a total bust, but neither was I soaring up on wings of gold. 

*** 

Two days passed quickly enough with no new information and no more black bags. Our week was up and we were no closer to figuring out everything than we'd been at the start. We were riding back to the compound and just stopped for lunch at a mermaid's cafe—that looked more like a hot spring in Japan than a restaurant—when Caster decided to check his spinning top messages. 

"Tudo new message from Duke," the spinning top said aloud in a voice that wasn't quiet high-pitched female or baritone male. I leaned further back in the hot spring as our mermaid waitress swam over to us, hopped up on the rocks separating us from the cool path the mermaids took for each individual hot spring table, and refilled my water. The last thing I wanted to do was get out and do actual work; I freakin loved the cafe. Food floated on a tray between Caster and I as we soaked our troubles away in the water. Other patrons were naked, but when Caster had started to strip down to his birthday suit, I'd ixnayed that idea. No way, Jose. So we sat across from each other with me in a long t-shirt and underwear, and Caster in boxers. 

"Read," Caster told the spinning top as it danced in the air. 

"Caster," it began, now in Duke's voice, "you and Tilly are to stop by Apricot City on your way here. Sequin and Onyx's son is missing. I've already sent photographers and it seemed to be similar to the other. They're expecting you. In case you've forgotten, their address is—" 

Duke's voice rattled off the directions and things we had to do. I clocked out. Being a Bookkeeper was exhausting, especially because I felt like there were a number of other jobs associated with the title. Mediator, diplomat, detective, I wouldn't even need to list all my other jobs on my resume, I could just type "Bookkeeper" and then list all my duties. 

Duke's voice cut off and the spinning top asked if Caster wanted to send a message back. He sent a quick, "We'll go" to Duke before setting the device on the bobbing table and picking up a glass of water. 

I looked through the steam at him. "We leavin'?" 

A succinct nod was my answer. 

Great. First relaxing moment in almost a week crushed by work. "When?" 

"Now." Caster set down his cup and rose, water sliding down and off him. The droplets tugged his boxer-thing lower than they should have, and I swallowed hard. The incubus wasn't throwing off the sexy vibes anymore, so my reaction was one hundred percent my own. Which still didn't bode well. God damn did I want him, even half-dead and dog tired as he was. The demon looked like he hadn't been sleeping or eating or taking care of himself. There was a leanness to his body that hadn't been there a week ago, a hollowness to his cheeks. 

I stood up to and his gaze zoomed in on the now see-through underwear. Instinctively, I reached to cover myself, but he'd turned away and climbed out of the pool before my hand could reach my chest. "I'll pay the bill while you get dressed." 

A part of me wanted to say, Come back. I was enjoying this. We weren't snapping at each other and you weren't being a bossy prick. Why can't we always be like this? but the other part wanted to let sleeping dogs lie, live out the full year on Yenos without too much trouble, and get back to my human life on Earth. I listened to the latter voice. 

A few minutes later Caster came out of the restaurant, and settled on his bike. I was dressed and as dry as a I could be in five minutes. I gave one last, long look at the mermaid cafe, surrounded by fragrant hedges with dainty purple flowers with only a small opening of twisted branches and hanging pink flowers to welcome guests in. 

"Tilly, we're leaving." 

Inputting the code to start my bike, I raced after Caster until I caught up with him and rode alongside. "Is it far?" 

Caster and I had an unspoken agreement, that I only trudged blindly onto an empty battlefield where the only harmless thing was embarrassing myself for not understanding a custom. When we were in the thick of it, or about to be anyway, Caster didn't spare me details or try to coddle me. I think it was because I was beginning to grow on him, though he said it was because Duke didn't want me to die and he didn't want to give the vampire anymore reason to hate him. 

Man troubles. 

"No," Caster answered as we worked our way past an open field of purple flowers that I recognized. "About ely catch." 

Caster kept his word, and in about ten minutes we pulled into a crowded street in Apricot's city center, parked our bikes, and started to walk. Tugging at the strap between my breasts, I made a mental note to ask Duke for a backpack (I'd been making that same mental note for a while, but hopefully this one stuck).There was a lump on my shoulder from the stupid satchel. Caster saw me lagging behind, and quick as could be, he tugged the bag over my head and dropped it on his shoulder. He reached out and grabbed my hands, resuming his brisk pace. "If you get lost, Duke'll have my throat." 

"Keep telling yourself that's the reason you're holding my hand." The words escaped me before I could think better. No, Tilly, there is no other reason Caster is holding our hand. None. 

Two streets later, we arrived at a large metal door. My skin was crawling because the citizens of Apricot had zero awareness of personal space. Species were constantly brushing up on me, not all of them clean and dry. Yanking my hand out of Caster's, I brushed fairy dust from my shoulders and rubbed my hip against the wall to get the slime off. The alley wasn't poorly lit or very small, but I still felt like I might get mugged or shot at any second. Not that that'd happened in Yenos, but stranger things occurred. 

For some reason, creatures on this planet never knocked. I'd never once seen Caster do it, or Fever for that matter. They just waltzed in. So far, it worked for them, but I was still a bit cautious. 

"Sequin—Onyx," Caster greeted our hosts from their spot across the room. They were positioned like they knew we were coming, which they sort of did. It was still creepy. 

My eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark interior before I spotted them. Two witches, dressed in lime green gowns similar to the ones I'd seen on Ship. I'd asked Penny about the dresses, since not all the witches seemed to have the same color. She said that the colors signified how well versed in the craft each which was and coincidentally how old they were too. Younger witches who had either just come into their powers, or who'd just started practicing wore shade of green. Green turned to white, white to pink, pink to red, red to blue, and finally blue to orange. It had something to do with the ground and the sky and the sun, or so Penny said. The night of Fever's near-miscarriage was still a bit blurry and rimmed with worry. 




Fall Thru Ch. 08



"I am sorry this has happened to you," Caster said softly. 

The woman to the left of him, who had caramel skin similar to my own with her hair strangely natural looking blonde hair in a complicated braid-crown above her head, threw herself at Caster. She hugged the incubus and cried into his shirt. I turned to the other woman, waiting for her to do the same thing (Caster had that effect). She was more elegant than pretty, and maybe a little older. There was a touch of brown mixed into her obvious Asian heritage, making her skin practically glow. It set off the orange-yellow hue of her eyes which all added to the aura of mystery surrounding the woman, punctuated by the small scar tugging part of her pale lips up, so she almost looked like she was scowling. 

"Onyx," the Asian witch said with a slight bite to the words. 

"It's alright, Sequin," Caster assured, "She's taking in traces of her mother." 

Her mother? 

Almost like Sequin heard the question, her eyes turned to me. "Onyx is Ship's daughter. She grew up with Fever and Caster." 

"Ship?" The woman looked barely 35. Barely. Onyx had to be at least in her mid-twenties. But even as the age difference confounded me, I could see similarities between mother and daughter, most notably the blonde hair. 

"Different aging process," Caster supplied, finally turning Onyx back to the other woman. "This is Tilly. She's my new partner." 

I waited to see what the witches would do before saying anything. I'd stuck my hand out and had it stared at enough to know not to do that again. Sequin stepped toward me and placed the back of her hair to her forehead, bowing slightly. I mimicked her immediately. Caster had told me that the move was an old sign of respect, used by more traditional families. 

Sequin smiled at my move and gestured to what I assumed was her living room. Two wide couched that looked like brackets framed a dark wood, oval table with a steaming metal bowl in the middle of it. We moved to the seating area, and Sequin waved us down to the other couch. It was comfy, a soft of silky, flowy material that reminded me more of a scarf that a piece of furniture. Their home spelled wonderful, earthy but refreshing, cool. It got stronger the closer I leaned toward them across the table between us and I realized it was coming from the silver bowl, oil being heated and spread throughout the room. 

"Tell us what happened?" Caster probed, nodding at me to pull out the book. 

I did so as Onyx began to speak. "We left for a blink—just a blink—to buy food for dinner. When we came back, Cole's room was empty. He was gone." 

"Cole?" I must have heard them wrong, that name was too normal. 

Onyx turned to me, her voice agitated, "Yes. Cole our son." 

I stared down at my book and scribbled the name, marking the date and time and what had taken place. 

"Was there anything before that you can remember?" Caster asked. 

"Like what?" 

"Anything unusual? Out of the ordinary? Something that Cole wouldn't do on a hoax-to-hoax basis." 

Sequin chimed in, "We took him shopping for new clothes glass-hoax. He was going to a party or something." 

"Do you know where this party was?" 

She touched a finger to the corner of her mouth in a move that I'd seen Duke use a bunch of times. I still wasn't sure what it meant, but I didn't feel now was the best time to ask. "No. But I don't think it was important. He goes out a lot. He's very sociable. This was just the tudo time in a while he asked for new clothes." 

"Had he been seriously hurt recently?" I asked, yet again breaking the unspoken "Tilly's not supposed to talk" rule Caster set up. "Did he need to see an alchemist?" 

"Ill?" Onyx gasped and turned to Sequin before turning back to me. "Why would be hurt?" 

"People get hurt all the—" 

"Cole is not a just anyone. He's my son. He's never been hurt." 

"I understand that. But things happen. Has he had a broken—" 

"What things? Why would things happen?" She shot up, arms shaking, a desperate look in her eyes. 

"Nothing. We just need to know if he was hurt." 

"By who?" she practically yelled. "Who would hurt my son?" 

"I don't—" 

Caster stopped my losing battle with a hand on my knee and a sharp look. His voice and eyes gentled when he spoke to Onyx, "She's human." That fact seemed to calm her down, as if my species could account for whatever offense I'd unknowingly committed against her. "Let her go look at the bedroom while we talk." 

Onyx made a movement that I'd come to know meant yes, and I was dismissed. Sequin gave me directions to Cole's room and then the conversation continued (without me) in gentler tones. I found Cole's room easily. It was a good size, not too small with a bed and a chair and a wardrobe, though almost everything was buried under a thick layer of clothes, half eaten food, and what I think was Yenos's version of video games. 

I stepped into the room and shivered. Ugh, it was such a dude's room. Underwear kicked off and hanging at the end of the bed, half eaten snacks gathering mold beside the pillow, and . . . a black bag on the night stand. 

"No way." 

I picked my way through the room, toeing aside—gag!—a condom wrapper. Despite its cheery canary color, the picture of two creatures going at it didn't mean there were a lot of other things the square could be. On top of the dresser, next to a half empty glass of bubbled water, was a black pouch. Same as the others. Strange considering Onyx had been so vehement that Cole had never seen an alchemist. It was heavy when I picked it up. I pulled the drawstring open, and spied two Altoid sized pills. They looked similar to the balls on the dreamcatcher, as if they stored a tiny universe. 

Footsteps sounded down the hall. I'm not sure why I did it, but I closed the bag and stuffed it in my back pocket. Caster entered the room and looked around before turning to me. "Find anything?" 

I should have said, Yes. Two pills I'm pretty sure can transport people to another world. But I didn't, because what if the place they took me was Earth? What if this was my ticket home? 

"Nope," I answered with shake of my head, picking my way back to the door and passing him. "There's nothing here."