Homelands Pt. 10 Ch. 02

"Why?"

"If you don't get upstairs soon, our boy's liable to get suspicious."

Was he kidding? After what he'd just guided her through, she was supposed to want a mere boy? A virgin? How was she ever supposed to sleep with another man again?

Besides, assuming she was still interested in Zach, what was she supposed to tell him? How could she climb into bed with him and pretend she wasn't a huge slut who deserved none of the respect he had for her? Heck, he'd probably heard them. She'd made plenty of noise before the ball-gag appeared. Probably enough to be heard even in the shower.

Fuck, what was wrong with her? Why couldn't she control herself?

"Go," he said, in that deep voice of his.

She just sat there, staring at him in disbelief. And doing her best to fight back tears of shame and self-loathing. No part of her wanted to face the guy waiting for her upstairs. And if the man sitting across from her would stop looking at her ugly face, that would be pretty awesome too. Yvette wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

"I need a moment to collect myself," she said, looking away. What did he think of her stupid tattoos and piercings? Did he know how much she hated her body? How desperate she was to distract attention from all her imperfections? The clothes he'd dismissed early covered her up once again. "I'm having one of those `Did I really just do that?' moments."

"Don't make me tell you again." The tone of his voice sent a shudder down her spine. And when he grabbed her chin and forced her to look him in the eyes, Yvette let out a whimper. The worst part was that his commanding tone and firm grip had Bad Yvette stirring again. It was no fair. "I don't like repeating myself."

So Yvette nodded, kissed him quickly on the lips, and hurried toward the stairs.

#

When she got up to the room, Yvette found a fully-clothed Zach standing by the window, his back to her. But the scented candles were burning and the lights were off. Like he was trying to set the mood, but was too nervous and inexperienced to think of undressing a bit and waiting for her atop the bed. The guilt monster that climbed atop her back took that as a sign of encouragement and began to antagonize her more vigorously.

"Hi," she said softly as she eased the door closed behind her.

"Come here," he said.

It wasn't that she balked. Just that her brain froze and was thus unable to relay any messages to her limbs. It wasn't so much a conscious decision, like she refused to do as he requested, as it was a genuine inability to put herself in close proximity to him.

Why had she done it? Yes, Lance had been great. Sex that good didn't come along every day. But it wasn't like she'd known he was something more than human. That he'd please her in ways no ordinary man could, and leave her buzzing with borrowed energy afterwards. No, Bad Yvette had simply insisted that she give in to temptation, consequences be damned. And, as always, she'd surrendered. What made her think she was worthy of a guy like Zach?

He looked over his shoulder at her. "I think there's something out there."

That got her moving. She left some distance between them when she got to the window, but not so much as to arouse suspicion. Or so she hoped. Just more than she would have if she hadn't betrayed him the moment he left to take a shower.

"There," he said, extending a finger towards the glass.

All she saw was a short stretch of snow followed by a sea of black, interrupted here and there by faint lights. It didn't bother her quite as much now as it had earlier, now that she had a deity's power coursing through her veins and the dark of night blunted the contrast between the mountainside and the open air beyond, but it still wasn't a pleasant view.

"I don't see anything," she said.

"Look closer," Zach said, putting a hand on her back. "Right there."

She followed the line his finger projected.

Yvette let out a shrill squeak as she saw something move.

Then she slapped Zach's chest with the back of her hand and laughed at herself. "Probably just a deer. You jerk. Some way to seduce a girl, scaring the piss out of her."

"That's no deer," he said.

His somber tone made her look back. He was right. Whatever it was, it was nearly as white as the snow around it. Though she'd heard of white deer before, and was pretty sure she'd once read something about them playing an important role in some Native American cultures, she didn't think they were all that common. And, more importantly, when the thing had moved, it had done so with more of a feline grace. Keeping low to the ground, like it wanted to escape notice. No deer she knew of did that.

"What do you think it is?" Yvette asked.

Zach shrugged.

"An animal, though, right? A live one?"

She felt stupid. Had she thought he'd spotted the first wave of a zombie invasion? Or one of the other absurdities from their game? Just because something she couldn't quite explain had just taken place in the living room didn't mean there was anything out there with a thirst for blood. And if there was, Lance would protect them from it anyway.

Lance. The very best and yet the very worst thing that had ever happened to her.

Yvette let out a sigh. "I need to tell you something."

He looked at her with soft, understanding eyes. "If you need to get something off your chest, feel free. But don't do it on my account. Whatever it is, I promise I won't care."

She snorted.

Zach ran his fingers lightly through her hair. "I don't care about your past-"

"Stop," she said. "You're only making this harder."

He frowned. And took a small but ever-so-meaningful step back. Not that she could blame him. She was the one who'd driven a wedge between them, after all.

"I don't know how to say this," she began. And, for that very reason, she briefly considered not doing so. But she'd let Bad Yvette make her decisions for her too much already.

So, with a tight throat and a dry mouth, she started confessing. And once she got going, the words started coming a bit more readily. Telling him what she'd done wasn't easy, exactly, but neither was it as difficult as it could have been. As she'd feared it might be. And it felt good to come clean, even if tears were rolling down her cheeks by the end.

"I really I don't think he's human," Yvette repeated after she ran out of things to say. She wasn't herself sure whether that was meant to be taken as exculpatory or if she was simply making an awkward transition to a separate but equally important topic of discussion.

He took it all remarkably well. A faint look of surprise, followed by sadness, appeared on his handsome face. But he kept his emotions in check. And never once interrupted her. When she started to cry, he took her hand in his and gave it a soft squeeze.

"You don't hate me?" she asked.

"No. I don't hate you," he said, setting up a good "but" if his tone was any indication.

It didn't come though.

He just looked down at her with those beautiful blue eyes. Which, the more she thought about it, looked entirely too much like Lance's. They were the exact same shade of blue, which was not a particularly common one either. She could almost think they were two manifestations of the same person. That some supernatural entity was mocking her, dangling Zach in front of her to build her hopes up only to then throwing Lance into the mix so that she'd be forced to confront her own weakness. To see what a shitty person she was, selfish and utterly devoid of self-control. That wouldn't make a whole lot of sense, but she wasn't sure it would make any less than whatever was really happening.

"I'm so sorry," she said.

"Don't be," he said. "You don't owe...we just met."

His words sounded strained. But she couldn't hold that against him. He was a saint for speaking them at all. He ought to be calling her a slut and telling her to get out of his sight.

"What does that say about me though?"

He shrugged. "Nothing, probably."

Probably.

"You believe me?" she asked. "That he's not normal?"

"Oh, he's definitely weird," Zach said, getting a giggle out of her. "I know what you mean, though," he quickly added. "I'm not sure I'd have made that leap on my own, but something about him made my brain itch."

"Really?" she asked, noting his choice of words. She rarely heard other people use that phrase to describe the vague sense that they were missing something, failing to connect certain dots, but it was one of her favorites.

"Yeah," Zach said, stepping away from her and the window. He walked across the room and hit the light switch. Because why shouldn't he? Forgiving her indiscretion was one thing, wanting to hop in bed with her was quite another. The chance of that happening had disappeared the moment she kissed Lance back. "Did you notice how the fire seemed to be trying to get away from him? Like...I don't know if this makes sense, but it almost looked like cold wind was emanating from him, you know?"

Yvette stared blankly at him. She hadn't noticed that at all. And though there were many words she might use to describe his touch, cold was not among them.

Zach shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I didn't feel anything. But I'm telling you, the fire did not like him. It was weird. I thought it might be my imagination, but now that you're saying you don't think he's human...I don't know."

Man, was he sure of himself.

That was terrible. He was sweet and forgiving and handsome and really well-built. She should be cursing herself for throwing away any chance of pursuing romantic involvement with him. But she couldn't help herself. The need to avoid cognitive dissonance, to convince herself that she wasn't that terrible a person, was heightening her awareness of his flaws.

"I can't say I noticed that," Yvette said. "But I'm sure you're right."

He frowned, eyeing her skeptically. "Anyway, we should probably-"

A howl like the one they'd heard earlier drowned out the rest of his words. Drowned out Yvette's thoughts. Loud as the previous scream had been, this one was ten times worse. And it was soon joined by a second, then a third. She threw her hands over her ears and doubled over, though that didn't help much. Needles stabbed at her brain and claws raked her spine. Soon enough, her ears would bleed and her eyes boil inside their sockets. There was simply no other way for her body to react to that horrible sound.

Abruptly, it stopped.

"Seriously. What the fuck was that?" Yvette asked.

"How should I know?" he asked, a look of surprise on his face.

"Sorry," she said, both for turning him into an authority on the matter and the vehemence with which she'd made the inquiry. "I just-"

"I understand," he said. And she believed him. "The one person in this cabin who knows the answer to that, though, is downstairs."

He didn't add, "And you just got done fucking him." Nor did the look on his face suggest that any such thought had crossed his mind. But she heard the words inside her mind all the same. Though the voice speaking them was hers.

"Shall we go talk to him, then?" Yvette suggested.

"Are you okay with that?" he asked.

That was a dang good question. "I guess so."

"Think he'll be any more talkative now than before?"

She fretted at her lower lip. "Probably not."

"Well, can't hurt to try," Zach said, offering her his arm ironically. Or maybe not. She had no frigging clue anymore. He made no more sense to her than her own emotions did.

All things considered, though, she was pretty okay with that.

Whatever his intention, she looped her arm in his as they went out into the hall. And, for a moment, she almost forgot how scared she was.

Unfortunately, when they reached the living room, they found it was empty. Lance's parka stull hung from the coat rack and the boots and sweater he'd shed later were piled near the fireplace, but there was no sign of the man himself.

"Well, doesn't that figure," Zach said as he went over to the couch. For a moment, Yvette thought he might check beneath the cushions, the way one might after losing a phone, but he didn't. Just scratched his head, looked around, and said, "Fucking shit."

"Yeah," Yvette said, grabbing the chair their missing guest had occupied earlier and pulling it close to the fire. She pulled her knees up to her chest after sitting down. It wasn't all that cold in the cabin anymore. Hadn't been for hours. But the thought that they were all alone had more of an effect on her than it should have. It wasn't like there was really anything out there to be afraid anyway. "Yeah," she repeated, not knowing what else to say.

"Maybe he just went to the bathroom," Zach said before going to check. But of course he came back a few moments later and said, "Nope. So much for that."

"It's not a big deal," Yvette said, for her benefit as much as his.

"Suppose not," Zach agreed. "Gotta at least get his stuff, right?"

Right. A deity older than any government whose authority their ancestors would recognize would just be so lost without a parka and snow boots. Yvette kept the thought to herself, though. "Any beer left?" she asked.

"A few," Zach said with a snort. Of course there were. Even with the arrival of an unexpected guest, they hadn't gone through twenty four bottles. "Want one?"

"Nah, was just asking for the hell of it."

That was uncalled for. But he responded with a simple, "Right,' then he went into the kitchen to fetch two bottles. He returned shortly with the drinks and a second chair as well, which he set down beside her. Not too close, though. A nice, friendly distance separated them. As was only to be expected, at this point.

And if she wanted that to change, she probably ought to go easy on the sarcasm. But whatever. She was too exhausted, in too many ways, to modulate.

"Here," he said, handing her the bottle.

"Does any of this make any sense to you?" she asked. "You're not just humoring the crazy girl with the freaky tattoos because she's got big boobs, right?"

Zach spurted a mouthful of beer onto the fire. It landed with a sizzle, killing the flames dancing atop one corner of the nearest log. "No," he said. "No."

"Not sure I'd blame you," she said. "The things coming out of my mouth sound a little crazy even to me. Can't imagine what you must think."

"Look at the fire," he said.

Yvette regarded him silently. The look on his face couldn't have been more earnest. She sighed and turned her attention to the flames.

And noticed that they were sputtering lazily, as though a gentle wind was blowing directly on them. One coming directly from her.

"Fuck," she said.

"You said it felt like he passed something to you," Zach said.

Yvette fell silent.

He reached over and laid a hand over her wrist. "Huh. You don't feel cold."

More than anything in the world, Yvette wanted that touch to linger. To grow into something more intimate. More passionate. Wanted him to forget about how stupid she was and let go of any concerns about how he might measure up to a god and make love to her, slowly and softly. But a delirious second later, his hand fell away.

Yvette touched her own pale skin. It was white as snow, but he was right---it was as warm as ever. Whatever Lance had done to her, it had nothing to do with her body temperature.

She tipped back her beer. It tasted terrible. Like wet bread. How guys managed to acquire a taste for the stuff, she had no idea. But at least it offered a distraction. And if she could stomach one or two bottles of the stuff, her frazzled nerves might settle down.

Of course, there were other ways to get there. Some of which were far more fun.

But now. Bad Yvette was back in her cage, and there she would stay.

"You think wind can make that sound?" Yvette asked.

Zach shrugged. "Crazy shit happens up here in the mountains. At least, that's what my grandfather always says. He grew up not much more than an hour from here. I'm a plains boy myself, so I guess I've pretty much got to take his word for it."

"I hardly knew my grandparents. Any of them." She sighed and took a healthy swig of her beer. "Mom's parents died before I was born. Dad's shortly after I turned ten. Not even sure what happened. He said it was cancer, but even as a kid, I knew better than to believe they both got sick at the exact same time. To this day, he won't talk about it."

The handsome guy beside her held his breath. "Same here. Only it was my parents. Grandpa took me in after. Lived with him ever since I was six."

"Weird," Yvette said.

"Yeah," Zach agreed, raising his bottle to his lips.

"You know, I'm not normally this flaky." She cleared aa waterfall of hair from her face, wondering what he thought of her raven tresses. The piercings probably didn't do much for him. He was too straight-laced. But she had beautiful hair. Straight and shiny, strong and natural. He had to be the type who'd appreciate that, didn't he? Who'd know that she didn't dye it? "I declared myself an atheist at thirteen. Flirted with the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster in high school, just to piss off all the Jesus freaks, but I'm a big believer in science. I can't explain anything that's happening here, though. Not the weird game we played earlier, or the sounds we've been hearing, or...Lance."

Zach simply stared at the fire while he worked his bottle.

"What about you?" she asked. "You a believer?"

"In what? God?"

"I don't know. Whatever," she said. "Stuff they don't teach in science class."

"Dunno," he said. "Not enough of a non-believer to get a thrill from pissing off those who are, that's for sure," he added. "But I guess I'm pretty skeptical. About most things." His voice fell silent. "Except ghosts."

"Ghosts?"

He nodded. "I saw my mother once. After she died. Grandpa didn't believe me. Said it was just grief. That, and lack of sleep. But I don't think so."

"Why not?" Yvette asked. "How did you know it was her?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "Guess I don't. I've never even told anyone, honestly. Figured I'd just get laughed at. But I can't have you thinking you're the only one whose prone to what our friends who are psych majors would call magical thinking, can I?"

Yvette forced a laugh.

So. He was just trying to commiserate. He knew, in his heart of hearts, that his grandfather was right. It was only the love for his mother that kept him from admitting it. And regard for her that made him cop to a belief he didn't really hold.

It was sweet. Enough that she might have started thinking about kissing him again, if she wasn't so busy feeling spooked. But it did nothing to convince her that they were safe.

"Maybe we should get out of here," she said. "Did Carl leave the keys out, or would you have to sneak in his room and fish them out of his pants?"

Zach frowned.

"Yeah, you're right," she said, washing her embarrassment down with beer. "I'm being a total girl. Next thing you know, one of them's gonna take a trip to the bathroom, a floorboard's gonna creak, and I'm going to scream my blood head off."

That earned her a pleasant smile. An adorable smile.

"Something might be happening," he said. "Or it might not be. Either way, you're going to look back on this night in the future and smile." His eyes returned to the fire. Yvette could see the reflection of the flames there, graceful dancers in orange leotards performing before a bright blue backdrop. "You probably won't tell your husband about the time you had sex with a Native legend, but you will your daughter. Once she's old enough."

"You think so?" Yvette asked, grinning. It was a bit presumptuous on his part. And detailed. Some girls would find it creepy. But, given the context, she found it endearing.

Mostly, she figured, he was just trying to calm her down.