Three Demons – Chapter 2

Oliver smiled with obvious amusement, though there was sympathy in his eyes. I felt my cheeks heat and averted my gaze to the floor. I’m making a fool of myself, I thought mournfully. “Did you not like the pancakes?” Oliver asked, calmly. I looked up at him and smiled, thankful he’d changed the subject.

“I’m sure they’re delicious, but I’ve never been big on sweets,” I explained.

“Do you prefer salty or savory meals then?” Erik asked. I was about to answer right off the bat when I realized he was making a joke. There was obvious intent in his words and a gleam in his eye that exposed the taunt in the statement. I was silent, feeling too spiteful to respond. “I think you like it salty,” he murmured with a predatory grin. I narrowed my eyes at him.

Oliver cleared his throat and stood at once. “Erik, could you check on the dog please? See if he’s hungry?” He asked with an authoritative edge in his voice.

“Yes, sir,” Erik said quietly, his eyes still on me. We maintained eye contact as he rose and until he had walked past the living area. Oliver and I were still until I heard the front door shut.

“I’m awfully sorry,” Oliver blurted, “That’s just how he is. I swear its not because of you, and I’m sure he means no disrespect.” He fidgeted and twiddled his thumbs. His lovely eyes grew large and his brow knitted with worry .

Poor thing, I thought. I felt bad about him worrying so much but it was still nice to hear an apology. “No need to apologize,” I said, sincerely. “Quick question though,” he nodded, “Do you know where my phone might be?”

“I think it’s in your coat pocket,” he replied. “You probably want to call your parents, right?” he asked.

I winced. Ouch. He just plainly asked if I wanted to call my parents, like it was normal. Did I look like a child to him? I didn’t know why it bothered me so much, but it did. “Yeah.”

“Go ahead, I don’t mind,” he said with a smile. I got up from the couch and headed to the room I’d slept in the night before. I was about to pass him when he said, “You’ve got something on your cheek.”

“Oh,” I said, touching my face, “What is it? Food?”

“Its,” he said, the word soaked in hesitation, “It’s drool, probably from when you were asleep.” His face twisted with sympathy and his tone was apologetic.

I looked down in shame and was about to walk on when he took my hand and ushered me to the bathroom. He took hold of a small towel from a linen closet on the way there and wet it in the sink. “This really is unnecessary,” I protested. He started rubbing the soaked towel over my face anyway, washing it. Again he was overstepping boundaries, but I began to realize that that might be his way of doing things. “When you told Erik to check on ‘the dog,’ were you talking about my dog? Felix?” I asked.

Oliver set the towel down on the edge of the sink and looked at me, his mouth twisting into a tight smile. “Exactly,” he responded.

“Well, where is he?” I asked.

“We kept him in the shed overnight,” he responded. At my incredulous look his eyes widened in fright and he started explaining, “He was a little violent with us. He attacked Everett-”

“Everett?” I interrupted.

“You’ll meet him in a second, he’ll be home any minute now. He was actually the one who found you. When he tried to pick you up, your dog – Felix – attacked him,” he continued.

“Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry,” I began, “You can’t really blame him for misunderstanding, dogs are very loyal and protective creatures. I hope Everett wasn’t hurt.”

“Oh, no,” he said with a laugh. As if the very thought was inconceivable.

“That’s good,” I contributed, trying to avoid an awkward silence. It seemed there was no avoiding it though, as we both stood silently fidgeting, neither sure how to continue.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“Everett said he found you asleep in the middle of the forest,” he paused just after he said it, looking at me expectantly.

“I was lost,” I explained.

“We figured as much, but we couldn’t understand why you’d fallen asleep,” he countered.

“I was exhausted,” I squeaked, feeling the pressure of his interrogation.

“From trying to find your way back?” he asked with a sense of confidence, as if he’d finally cracked the case.

I swallowed. “Not exactly,” I replied.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at me with a puzzled stare. I didn’t try to explain myself and instead looked at the floor with conviction, as if it would have the answers. I heard him inhale, words lingering on his lips, but just before he could form them into another one of his questions I so desperately wanted to avoid, I heard the door open loudly and a deep voice boom, “I’m home! Ollie, where are you?”

“In the bathroom, give me a minute,” called Oliver, turning his head to the doorway. He exposed his neck and I saw the muscle and vein strain beneath the skin. He turned to me and said, “That’s Everett. Come on, you can meet him.”

We made our way back to the living room and laid my eyes upon the infamous Everett, more than anyone he deserved my thanks as he’d been the one to find me and bring me back here. He was enormous. I’m sure he was over six feet as he towered over me at my unimpressive five feet and four inches. His hair was long and a white blond in color, but cut in a frankly messy fashion.

It was shaggy, layered, and choppy. The end was braided and tied with a black hair band. His skin was tanned from undoubted sun exposure, his cheeks burned red from the chill outside, and his eyes were a golden hue of hazel. His almost white eyebrows were thick enough to give off some definition and the light dusting of white stubble on his strong jaw and pointed chin made him look like, well, a man. He had a straight nose, though it wasn’t as delicate as Oliver’s. His overall appearance was that of ruggedness though he had an honest nature about him that had me assuming he was sweet.

“Hello, doll,” he said to me with a smile as he slipped out of his jacket to reveal his powerful, packing body contained in a flannel shirt, a pair or worn out jeans, and working boots. He took two stocky steps toward me and stopped when he was just inches from pressing up against me. I looked up at him looking down at me with a glow in his eyes. Must be a trick of the light, I thought.

“You’re Everett, are you,” I said with a smirk.

“That I am, miss,” he replied, a wolfish grin forming on his lips.

“My name’s Freya,” I informed him. He simply smiled at me, the golden glow in his eyes swirling as if he knew something I didn’t. I squinted my eyes and tried focusing on his eyes, that glow was too consistent. He blinked and it was gone. Must’ve been my imagination, I thought. I relaxed and held my hand out before him, he looked at it quizzically. “Thank you for, I suppose, rescuing me. I’m very grateful for your help,” I said, sincerely.

He slowly took hold of my hand with one of his, before cupping it in the other one as well. He ran his fingers over my skin, sending heat waves up my body at the light touch. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and bit my tongue to keep from producing any embarrassing sounds. He looked at me with that same knowing gaze, the smile exposing the laugh lines I hadn’t noticed before. He released my hand from between his startlingly large ones and said, “My pleasure.” The tone was deep and so soothing I relaxed in an instant. But more than that, it was almost familiar.

He suddenly turned and grabbed a plastic bag from the couch, handing it to me. I held it close to my person. “It’s some things I thought you might want. I know most girls like to feel clean,” He offered as an explanation.

I looked in the bag and saw sample sizes of toothpaste and deodorant. As well as a travel sized toothbrush and hair brush. “Thank you,” I said, looking back up at him. He shrugged as if it were nothing and nodded toward the hallway leading to the bathroom.

“As soon as you’re ready we’ll head out and get you home,” Oliver chimed once I’d reached the bathroom’s door way. I stepped in and closed the door, locking it behind me. I turned and leaned against it, exhaling with both dread and relief. I was happy to be going home, even if I had to endure a lecture when I got there, but oddly felt sad that I was going back as well and I didn’t know why. I’d better get cleaned up, I thought. No use in stalling the inevitable.