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  A handsome bartender with shaggy blond hair and shiny blue eyes gives me a curious glance. “You picked an interesting place for a drink.”

  “I heard this is a fun place and I get bored easily,” I say. Staring at his baby blue eyes, I wonder when his shift is over. “I want a sweet and strong drink. What can you make?”

  “Hmm.” He contemplates the bottles at his disposal. Different shapes, colors, and sizes line the shelves behind him. “I think I know what you’ll like.” He grabs five bottles, pouring and mixing them into a glass, busy at work. “Where are you from?”

  “Not anywhere you know. Far away, from the East Coast, a little village called Seaside.”

  His eyebrows scrunch. “What made you come here? I’d love to live on the beach. I’ve heard stories, but I’ve never been.”

  “It’s beautiful. I miss it every day. A bad storm washed away my home. I decided to travel before settling down again.”

  “Sorry to hear. It must have been rough. Do you like to travel? Are you happy?”

  That’s such an odd but honest question. “Happiness is a trick. Something that can bring you joy one day can make you suicidal the next. It’s hard not to miss what you’re used to, but it’s freeing. Not sure if happy is the word I would use to describe it.”

  “If you feel free, then you must be a little happy. This should cheer you up. It’s called Lady in Red,” he says, handing me a candy apple red drink. “Your hair made me think of it. Not too many redheads live in Capo.” His other hand reaches for my hair as if wanting to brush it with his fingers but pulls back at the last second.

  “It’s not red. It’s more auburn brown than anything.”

  “The girls will be envious of your hair. I don’t think a natural red or auburn works here. You’re exotic, gorgeous. Men are interested in you, and not the girls for sale.”

  “I’m not looking for work, just a friend. When’s your shift over?”

  He leans over the bar, pushing a lock of my hair out of my face, considering if this is a trick. Grinning, his fingers caress my cheek. “Let me check with the boss.”

  The drink he made is amazing. It tastes like spiked apple cider with spiced rum, but served room temperature. I’ll only need two drinks. Stretching my back against the bar stool, I’m suddenly aware of how many men are staring. My hair can’t be that exotic. I should warn Ciara. I don’t want to draw extra attention to us. There has to be something we can use to dye it. If they think my hair is red, what will they think of Ciara’s? Her hair is brighter than a fire truck. Maybe I can use ground charcoal. Ash could work in a pinch—though I don’t want gray hair. Next time we are at the market, we’ll stop by the makeup area and see if they have hair dye. The bartender mentioned no natural redheads.

  The hunk bartender speaks to a man, probably his boss, and points in my direction. It’s late and the middle of the week, it has to be slowing down. It can’t be too often a woman comes in to hit on the men. His boss nods and in moments, my blue-eyed bartender is ready to go.

  I put a coin on the bar, paying for my drink. “Do you want to drink here or go somewhere else? Sometimes it’s hard to relax where you work.”

  He looks down at the coin and slides it back. “I can grab a bottle and we can go for a walk. It’s nice out. I never get to leave work this early.”

  He goes back behind the bar to make to-go drinks while the drink in my hand disappears with another gulp. My other hand pockets the coin.

  “Hiya. You’re a pretty little thing.” A man stinking of liquor, among other offensive odors, sits down next to me at the bar. He gawks at my hair, following it down around my chest. “You free tonight?” He spits as he talks. “I’ll pay double. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen in a while.”

  My eyes find my bartender; he sees my predicament and comes over instantly. Turning to the drunk, I say, “Sorry hon, I’m taken. Here he is now, but thank you for the compliment. It makes a lady feel good.”

  “Ready to go?”

  “Yes, love,” I say, then turn to the drunk. “Have a good night.” I give the drunk a wink and leave him alone at the bar, a grimace on his face.

  Blue Eyes walks me away from the bar, bottles in one hand, mine in the other, back to get my cloak from the twins.

  Upon exiting, the bouncer smiles when he sees me, but looks at the bartender in disgust. “This guy? You can do better. I’ll be here, little lady. Come back when you’re ready for a real man. I’ll show you a good time.”

  I give him a big smile and say, “Goodnight.”

  Blue Eyes gives him a devilish grin, as if he won a secret competition.

  We walk through the town, hand in hand, drink in the other, and my problems fade away. A couple nights like this, and maybe one day Capo will feel like home. Maybe. We talk about stupid things, things that don’t matter, the weather, food, and other pointless subjects. Occasionally we make out, then walk and talk more. Teasing, playing, and flirting. It feels great.

  A beautiful night, the stars shining bright along with the three alien moons. That will take time getting used to, seeing three different moons in the night sky instead of one.

  There’s always something to remind me I’m not home.

  Chapter Eight - Megan

  “We’ve walked around for a while and our drinks are gone. We had to pass your house or at least the area where you live. Do you not want to go home?” my blued-eye bartender asks.

  “Nope. I was wondering where you live. Maybe give me a house tour.”

  His eyes glisten as he leans in for another kiss, hands on my waist scratching at my clothes. His lips part from mine. “We’re here. I’d love to give you a tour.”

  I didn’t realize he had me pinned against his door. One hand on my waist, the other fumbles for his keys. He finds the right one and then opens the door. I turn to face the dark room and he slips his arms around my waist, pressing his body against my back. He kisses the crook of my neck. His shaggy blond hair tickles my skin.

  His one-bedroom apartment resembles Kevin’s house but smaller. As soon as we enter, there’s a fireplace with a lonely rocking chair in front. Two chairs and a table sit in the kitchen next to a small stove. A few dusty dishes and pans rest on shelves. I don’t think he cooks; he probably eats out as much as possible. He’s a bachelor among hundreds, competing to find a wife to cook him a meal. It’s sad that a disease did so much damage.

  He leads me to the rocking chair. I sit down, making myself comfortable. On his knees, he starts a fire. His dirty blond hair hangs carelessly, outlining his head in the firelight. Wild but trimmed, rugged but tamed—my kind of man. He turns to face me. Spinning around too fast, losing his balance, his head lands on my lap.

  “What is your name? I must know.”

  “No. It’s part of the fun,” I giggle.

  “I need to know.” His hands travel up my thighs, stopping on my hips. “I’ve never met a woman like you.”

  “You never will again.” My fingers graze his messy, dirty blond hair, then pull his lips to mine. His fingers start unbuttoning my blouse.

  “Don’t you want to know my name?” he asks, standing to take off his belt, the only thing holding up his pants besides his erection.

  I give him the slyest smile possible while I finish taking off my shirt, revealing my forest green lace bra. My legs spread apart, aching for him, as I unhook my bra. “I like calling you Blue.”

  He lunges, unable to control himself—that makes two of us. Kneeling, he cups my breasts with his smooth, non-calloused hands. His lips and tongue glide down past my chest to my navel, moving farther down until my pants block him and he groans.

  My fingers go to work removing his shirt. His muscles tense under them. I trace his back. He’s ripped. Not over the top, but lean. Muscles made from exercise, an athlete’s body. There’s no way he got this tone from tending bar.

  His lips tickle my stomach while his hands work at taking off my pants. Once my belt is unfastened, they slide off,
showing off my only sexy underwear, a matching forest green lacy thong. He moans, gliding his hands back up from my feet, up my inner legs, past my knees, approaching my inner thighs, until he reaches around, grabbing my ass. My legs, free of my pants, wrap around his waist. Our tongues dance until he travels down my neck to my chest. His fingers tickle my nipples and my back arches. I want him. He senses it. He knows my body is on edge, ready for him. His arms flex, scooping me up off the chair, carrying me wrapped around his waist to his bedroom.

  ***

  I never understood why people call it the walk of shame. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, relishing in natural bliss. I left Blue at dawn. I couldn’t have picked a better man. His strength thrilled me and his gentle touch rejuvenated me. I might see if he wants to become friends and meet up when I have an itch my fingers can’t scratch.

  As I round the corner under the archway, I find Kevin pacing back and forth in the courtyard. “Where have you been?” he asks.

  “I told you not to stay up. I said I’d be back by morning.”

  “I thought you would be back hours ago. Where’d you go?”

  “First to Capo’s Secret, then to his house, where I fell asleep. I just woke up.”

  “Did he hurt you or slip you something?” He searches me for bruises.

  “He was a perfect gentleman,” I say.

  “What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You fucked a guy and you don’t remember his name?”

  “No, I fucked a guy and told him not to tell me his name. I didn’t give him mine. There’s a big difference.”

  Ready to fight and kill the man, or fight anyone for that matter, Kevin sits down on the bench. “Sorry. I haven’t cared or worried about someone in years. I thought someone drugged, raped, and sold you. It happens enough to hear horror stories.” He sighs, calming down, his shoulders relaxing. “I understand, though. I do.”

  I sit down, then lean on his tree-trunk arm. “Kevin, you’ll never understand how blessed I am you’re here to protect me. I’m so lucky you’re alive. You’re not only my cousin but also the big brother I never had, so if I want his ass kicked, you’ll be the first to know. The second someone hurts me, you’re the person I’m going to cry to. I trust you. You have always made me feel better. You were always there for me, protecting me. I missed you so much these past years.” After a few moments of silence and trying not to cry, there’s one question on my mind. “So, which bar is your favorite?”

  “Funny. You went to the raunchiest club in town, mainly for men.”

  “That’s why I went. Plenty of lonesome men with money to spend. Nice place, classier than the other taverns.”

  Kevin shakes his head. “Jesus, Meg. I don’t know if I feel better or worse. We’re equally messed up.” We laugh, then wait in silence for Dana and everyone else to wake. Everyone has gotten used to waking up with the sun—our natural alarm clock. He shivers. “It’s getting cold this morning. Winter is coming early. You guys finished the remodel just in time.”

  Dana stumbles out of the barn house, yawning and stretching until she senses the chill in the air. She rubs her arms, smiling when she spots me. “It’s freezing this morning. You have fun last night?”

  “I’ll tell you all about it later. Blond hair, dreamy blue eyes.”

  “Oh, sounds cute,” Dana says. She winks at Kevin as she crosses the courtyard toward the garden.

  “So, you didn’t tell him your name and you didn’t ask his. Did you leave him a note?”

  “Kind of.”

  Sighing, Kevin shakes his head, getting off the bench and walking to the garden.

  All I can think of is Blue. I hope he enjoyed my note. I gathered ashes from his fireplace and drew lips out of them on his kitchen table. A messy kiss goodbye.

  “Fuck, it was cold last night. The vegetables are mush. I swear it’s getting colder by the second,” Dana complains as she thumbs through the garden.

  Kevin picks his head up. He’s alert, no more games. It’s as if a switch went off in his head. His eyes dart all over the property. “Run inside, now. Grab wood! Go! Now!”

  Dana and I scramble across the yard, scurrying away from some unknown threat that has Kevin, a human mountain, worried. It makes us tiny nothings scared shitless.

  We each grab a pile of wood and run into the house, disturbing everyone who hasn’t awakened. Xander jumps off his cot and Tristan rolls out of his bed. Somehow, they both land on their feet.

  Kevin, carrying an enormous pile of wood, slams the door shut with his leg. “Lock it! Brace a chair against the door!”

  “What’s happening?” Xander moves to the window to see outside, then pushes a chair under the door. He sucks in a deep breath. “We need to start a fire. The windows are frosting.”

  Sarah and Ciara rush out of their bedroom, half awake. They look around, confused, trying to find a reason for the excitement.

  Baffled at the weather and the men’s terrified reaction, I ask, “How the hell is this possible? The sun’s out and it wasn’t cold walking here. None of this makes sense.”

  “It’s not the weather. It’s Fae. What do they want?” Kevin wraps his big hands around an ax, ready to attack. He’s spring-loaded, fixed to pounce, standing in front of the door.

  “Don’t know. Sure it’s not a freak storm?” Tristan attempts to see out the bedroom window, but all the windows are frosted.

  “Drag the mattresses by the fire! Grab blankets! Cover the windows! Seal the doors!” Xander barks.

  Tristan heaves the two mattresses into the living room close to the fire. Next to him, Xander builds a large fire and stacks the wood. Ciara grabs blankets while Sarah, Dana, and I cover the windows. We’re not concerned with the bedroom windows—instead, we seal the bedroom doors. Kevin stands, fingers tense on the hilt of his ax, as the temperature continues to drop.

  “What’s a Fae? You mentioned they aren’t human, but you didn’t say shit about this! What the fuck is happening!” I’m pissed. I was having a great night, a blissful morning, and am now under attack by a blizzard.

  “During the last war, they used to freeze whole villages. They killed men, raped women, and sold children into slavery. We’ve had peace for nine years. There’s no reason for them to attack.” Terror floods the room as Kevin speaks. His face is solemn but his lips curl into a snarl, ready to rip out the throat of whatever tries to walk through the door.

  “I can remember my father on edge every winter, not sure what was nature or death,” Xander says, his eyes fading away, zoning out into the fire.

  Kevin clears his throat. The men turn to stare at each other, having a silent conversation. Pain, anguish, and rage wash across all three faces—all in torment from their silent decision. Tristan and Xander were old enough to remember the war and hear tales of the battles. Situations like this must mean certain death. They look desperate, as if they’re preparing for a fight they won’t survive. They try to appear strong, but they’re afraid. They try to hide their fears from us, but we aren’t stupid.

  “Stay behind me. No matter what,” Tristan says in a monotone voice stripped of all emotion. Eerily he slides his blades out of their hidden sheaths. His hands move slow and steady, sending chills down my spine. His polished steel blades shine in the firelight, making the happy-go-lucky man become sinister. Each of his movements are precise, calculated, and deliberate, unlike Xander and Kevin’s feral behavior. They’re pacing like animals.

  The four of us huddle under blankets on top of the two double mattresses. Tristan watches Xander and Kevin’s backs. The silence is deafening. The only noise is our breathing, shivering, the howling wind, and snow whipping against the house.

  It begins as a muffled giggle. In seconds, I can no longer contain the frantic laughter building inside. Puffs of breath come out of my mouth into the icy air. Everyone glares at me, as I’m rolling around, holding my sides, laughing uncontrollably.

  In my life, there have been many m
ysteries, crazy unexplained and unexpected instances. Most of them have happened in the last month, but I had never imagined I’d freeze to death from magic. From the nightmares I’ve had, I thought I’d burn alive. Weirdly, there are plenty of stories of people saying they are hot during the last stages of hypothermia, stripping clothes away, complaining their skin’s burning.

  “Megan, stop,” Sarah says. She shakes my arm as her other hand raises to slap me.

  Sarah ready to slap only makes me laugh more as I roll onto my stomach, unable to control myself. I’m powerless to catch my breath. The cold air cuts into my lungs with each inhale. Clouds of frosty air escape my mouth as my laughter continues to grow, hurting my chest. It feels like rocks are being piled on top of me with each breath.

  “Quiet!” Kevin barks in a voice I’ve never heard come out of him.

  “What the fuck?” Dana smacks my arm, trying to snap me out of it.

  After concentrating on catching my breath, my laughter dies down and I’m able to respond. They look at me as if I’ve gone crazy, lost it like a soldier having a panic attack before battle, but that’s not the case at all.

  “From the way you guys are acting, it looks like we are about to die from some weird ice magic. All I keep thinking is how great last night was and that I should have stayed asleep at his house.”

  Half of our group laughs, the other half attempts to stay serious. Everyone relaxes but stays slightly on guard.

  “Blue eyes, blond hair, you said? What’s his name? You went back to his house?” Dana tries not to laugh.

  With a satisfying grin, I close my eyes, reveling in the memories of last night. My lips, his eyes, my hands, his body, my giggles, his grin—the first and only night I’ve slept without getting drunk. My mind and body were at peace. Sleep finally rejuvenated me, eased me.