The Interloper Bk. 01

I was beside her, starting at the dark red liquid swirling in the beaten-to-hell copper pot she continuously stirred with a heavy wooden spoon. "No, Grandmama."

"Then why's it so cold," she whispered into the pot, breath freezing in air.

She looked the same as she always did. Hair set in rollers behind a black bonnet, flower patterned house dress over cotton pajamas, with worn blue slippers on her feet. Only her eyes were different, but I wasn't sure how exactly.

She snatched my hands and placed it on the sides of the pot."Put that on your head and take it over ta your mama."

It was cool to the touch, light as a feather. She watched as I brought it up to my head. But the pot tipped over my head, the liquid slipping over me like slime. I tried to scream, but it got in my mouth, down my throat, filling me up like a balloon. And I was blinded, expanding faster and faster until—

***

"You're not dead."

The voice dragged me out of sleep with its otherworldly resonance, and my eyes were open before my body'd made the conscious choice to open them.

I took a quick inventory of everything. In a bed. In my room. Caster asleep beside me. Alive. Good enough.

"Didn't think I was," I responded to Duke after a moment, highly aware of how insane everything still was because either I dreamt up getting stabbed or really had just been with my dead grandmother, making what resembled blood soup before pulling a Carrie on myself.

Duke blinked, expression blank and yet I could swear he was just a little bit confused and shocked. "What you did was reckless."

"Which part?"

"All of it."

I shrugged, but Caster's arms tightened around me, pulling me further into him. Duke caught the move and said nothing. "So.." I started, thrilled to take a deep breath and feel not even a hint of pain. "What happened to the kids?"

Duke sighed loudly before taking a seat at the foot of the bed. In that moment, only his features gave away his inhumanness. "They were placed in a recovery center due to the severity of their trauma."

I raised my eyebrows at that, because there was no way a never-ending teen party could be considered trauma. "So they didn't go back to their parents."

"They won't until they're given permission by their doctors. But who knows when that will be."

The part of me that had wound itself into an impossible knot of worry and stress over whether I was doing the right thing and the kids would be safe unclenched. Relief coursed through my body, bringing tears and laughter and joy. His answer hadn't been perfect, but my worst scenario had been truly awful; this news was miles above that. "Thank you."

Duke's fangy smile was gentle even as he rubbed a hand over his face and his shoulders drooped forward. "For one human, you are more trouble than an entire clan of centaurs."

There was the c-word. "I think you mean 'interesting'."

His eyes darted to Caster and then back to me. "I don't."

We were silent for a second longer as I stared at Caster's profile. He didn't look quite as scary in sleep, but it was still impossible to envision building a life with him. The thought terrified me more than anything because this wasn't my home and there wasn't a life for me here. I was the lost one, never to be found—the interloper who got tangled up in dubious orgies because so many of my expectations were built around human societal norms that could not apply to a world filled with dragons, mermaids, vampires, and mages.

Fuck, I needed a vacation.

"Look, can we cut this chat short? I have a season of Dance Moms episodes waiting for me and at least three of Tessa's weirdly delicious desserts to devour."

Duke chuckled as he got to his feet, the bed swaying as it recovered from his weight. "We'll talk again soon, Tilly."

"Great. Can't wait."

I waited until I was sure Duke was out of my room and the tapestry had melted back into a wall before I let out a gusty sigh that encompassed the utter suckitude of my remaining problems. Plural problems. Four legged and demon-y problems. Weird dream problems. Leave it for another day because you just got stabbed and survived through who knows why magical voodoo problems.

Nope, not going to happen.

Caster's warmth enveloped me as I cuddled closer to him, throwing a leg over his and wrapping my arm around him. Thank God he was a cuddler. Hmm... and smelled so good. I burrowed deeper and drifted away.