Loki gives a little bark, pulling me out of my thoughts. Well, at least I didn’t lose my dog. I just lost my mind.
Fantastic.
“Well, Loki, this sure ain’t Kansas anymore,” I say with a laugh.
It amuses me more than Loki. He just looks up at me with his tongue hanging out.
I get up slowly. I might not feel anything where that big hole in my chest was, but I can definitely remember how that damn hole felt. I know that was real dammit.
I remember the way the claws felt cutting through my flesh. I remember the way the blood soaked my clothes. I remember how the cold invaded my body, and I remember how I felt when I realized this was it: how the terror flooded my body. I wasn’t afraid for me but for my dad. He already lost everything once, and he brought me here to get away from it. If I’d died in those woods, there’s no way he could have forgiven himself.
My chest tightens as a lump forms in my throat. I swallow hard, trying to push the lump away. Now is hardly the time for celebrating getting out of there. I remember the figure who came and finished off the creature, how his presence relaxed me. But that means little if he’s holding me prisoner out here in the middle of who knows where.
“I’m not completely out of the woods yet, boy.”
I smile at my pun. Loki jumps down from the bed and watches me, but he makes no move to follow me as I cross the room, hoping the door isn’t locked.
“Stay here, I’m gonna check it out,” I whisper.
Loki lies down and curls up in a ball. Clearly, he had no intention of leaving the spot to begin with.
“Really? You’re not even gonna try to talk me out of looking around by myself? I could be in danger you know,” I scold.
In response, he yawns and licks his lips. I shake my head and place my hand on the doorknob.
“Wish me luck, buddy,” I whisper as I venture out into the hallway.
I’m on the second floor of the most impressive home I have ever seen. I take back my original thought about the middle of nowhere death cabin. This is a freaking palace. It’s a modern log-and-stone home with cathedral ceilings. An open floor plan home with glass walls on the outside and rustic, romantic accents inside. I walk down to the ground floor and look around. There’s no sign of life and still no sign of my clothes.
“They’re not ready yet,” a voice says from behind me.
I nearly jump out of my skin as I turn to face the person who just entered the room. Standing in front of me is a guy who is simply too hot to be real. There’s no other way to put it.
He’s six three and has warm blond hair. It’s slightly long and messy, the kind of messy that’s sexy as hell and dares you not to run your hands through it. Whoever created the stars and sculpted the heavens took time to carve his face—that’s the only way it could be so damn perfect. Then there’s the rest of him.
Damn.
His tight and taut body makes me regret every slice of pizza I’ve ever eaten. His solid washboard stomach and pecs add to his already stellar physique. But what threatens to steal all the air in my lungs isn’t his gorgeous hair or his perfect body. It’s his haunting and turbulent blue-gray eyes.
Sailor, get ahold of yourself. This is the guy that just kidnapped you. Maybe. He did save your life though. This could be like a Beauty and the beast tale.
Did I just find my prince?
“Huh?” I grunt.
Real smooth, Sailor.
“Your clothes, they’re not ready yet. Still in the dryer,” he adds, pointing over his shoulder.
It’s only then that I hear the familiar sound of a laundry room. He steps toward me and I scoot back. My bare heels hit the wall behind me.
“Stay back!”
His hands go up, an amused look on his face.
“I’m not going to hurt you. In case you forgot, I am the one who saved your ass last night.”
“So… So, it was real? All of it?” He meets my eyes and nods. “The woman and that thing that came out of the portal?”
He nods again.
My mind is racing. It was real. It was all real. Clutching my chest, I think I might be sick.
“What happened to the woman? Who the hell are you? Why am I here, and what the hell was that thing if it really was there? And, if it was real, why am I still alive?”
The questions come out before I have a chance to even take a breath. I’m not used to the company of insanely hot guys in a strange place, in strange clothes, and I have definitely never been through whatever that was last night.
“I’m not the explanation guy; can’t help you,” he says casually as he walks past me, looking me up and down on his way by with a smirk.
His scent is just as incredible as him. Not musky like men’s cologne, but clean like fresh linen and that sweet smell of freshly cut grass in the middle of summer. Aside from looking and smelling good, his manners are something else entirely.
“Excuse me? Can’t help you? Didn’t you just say you saved my life? I think that qualifies as helping me. Now I am here, in this.” I pull on the jersey. “You have to tell me something. At least tell me what’s going on,” I say, following him quickly.
His legs are long, much longer than mine, so I feel like I am racing just to catch up with him physically, and mentally, I am miles behind.
“Not my job. That’s tasked to someone else. They’ll be here soon,” he says, not slowing down.
We weave past what looks like an elaborate entertainment room, complete with a pool
