Authors: Reed James
Corrigan's profession of love as she writhed beneath him rose in his mind, mixing with the hideous, grating words of the monstrous Maeve. It didn't make any sense to him what happened last night. Gunnar had never believed in monsters, magic, demons, ghosts, or UFO's. But he couldn't explain what Maeve was without accepting that she was one of those things.
A hideous, murderous demon.
A beautiful, loving woman.
Which was the real Maeve? How could they be the same person? How could my playful Maeve be that murderous monster?
Gunnar rose from the bed, careful not to wake Corrigan. The room was icy cold, his skin pebbling. He shivered, glancing at Corrigan.
How is she not frozen?
He grabbed the covers, pulling them over her nude body before he swiftly dressed, his teeth chattering.
As he walked quietly down the stairs, careful to set his feet down softly to not disturb Corrigan, Gunnar struggled to remember last night. Most of the bachelor party was a blur. The strippers, dressed as fairies, had been hot, and Gunnar remembered screwing at least one of them. Evan had arranged it on Maeve's behalf.
She always wanted to make sure I had fun. So why was she so jealous of Corrigan? Why did she try to kill the woman? How did I even end up here?
The bachelor party had been at some bar in Gig Harbor, a small town on the other side of the Puget Sound from Tacoma. His best friend Evan had set everything up. Gunnar had quickly become drunk on the spicy beer the bar served, and everything was a brown haze.
“He mentioned something about a surprise,” Gunnar whispered when he reached the base of the stairs. More of last night flooded back. Evan had led Gunnar from the bachelor party, promising Gunnar a big surprise. He had driven Gunnar to this remote house down a long, dark-wooded road.
Why had Evan brought me to see Corrigan? He knows Maeve hates the woman?
Gunnar had definitely been attracted to the beautiful, sensual Corrigan, but he had no intentions of ever pursuing the woman. Maeve hated Corrigan for reasons Gunnar had never learned. So despite Gunnar's free pass from his fiancee to sleep with any woman, he knew Maeve would have been hurt if he slept with Corrigan.
The living room was in as much shambles as Gunnar remembered. The fire had gone out during the night, and a cold, wet wind blew in through the shattered hole in the wall. Maeve had blown her way in like a vengeful demon.
Gunnar bent down, prodding the piles of ashes that had been Maeve's demonic hounds.
What were they?
He grabbed the fireplace poker, a length of black iron.
Why did this work so well?
Maeve had been afraid of it and her hounds had been killed and set on fire by the simple length of metal.
There was something familiar about this poker. Gunnar cocked his head, tracing the twisted pattern up the handle to the tip. It was old, an antique.
Like the poker Evan bought the day I purchased Maeve's engagement ring. Had Evan bought this for Corrigan instead of Akiko?
Gunnar placed it in the holder beside the fireplace. He found his coat discarded in the hallway and walked out the front door. The small house perched on a bluff overlooking the Puget Sound. Across the gray, choppy waters, the city of Tacoma climbed the slopes of the peninsula it was built on. Charred holly bushes surrounded the house, and the yard was littered with red and orange maple leaves, the tree completely denuded of its leaves, its branches sagging. The bark had a gray pallor, almost like the massive tree was dead.
Evan's car was gone, and Gunnar didn't notice another one in the driveway. There was no garage, only an empty carport. Gunnar walked down the driveway, entering the dark forest that surrounded the house. The trees were thick, the air moist as he walked down the gravel driveway, stepping around great potholes filled with brown water. The growing roar of speeding cars grew louder. Gunnar caught the occasional flash of hurtling cars through gaps in the woods.
He reached the road, pulling out his cell phone. It was full of messages from Felicity, Brad, Akiko, and Professor Sommer. He ignored them. He almost called Evan, then hesitated.
What's Evan's involvement with Corrigan? Why had he brought me here? If he hadn't, Maeve never would have tried to kill me. I'd be happy not knowing that she's...
...a murderous monster.
Gunnar checked his address on the GPS and called for a cab.
It took an hour for the cab to arrive. Gunnar sat on a large rock beside Corrigan's mailbox. The sun rose behind him, its pale light struggling to banish the chill. Gunnar's thoughts went back to puzzle about Maeve and her motivations. There had been so many times in their relationship she talked about magic and fairies.
Is that what she is? Some kind of evil fairy, one of those monsters from the Grimm tales?
An orange sedan pulled up before Gunnar, blue writing on the side. His cab.
Gunnar didn't speak on the cab ride back to his apartment. He leaned his head against the window, ignoring the cab driver jabbing away in some foreign language on his Bluetooth headset. It was a twenty minute ride and Gunnar winced at the fare, handing over the last twenties in his wallet.
Gunnar stared at his apartment complex and the thick rose bushes Maeve had planted after she had been wounded.
How can she be weak and vulnerable, and yet so powerful and terrifying?
Nothing made sense to Gunnar.
He didn't want to go inside the apartment. Maeve's things would be in there. She might even be there, waiting for him to come home.
Would she try to kill me? Why didn't I bring the poker with me?
Gunnar backed away from his apartment, his feet carrying him towards his college, the University of Puget Sound. He lived only a few blocks away, crossing Union Avenue to reach the picturesque Green. The college's Green was a large swath of grass covered with meandering trails dotted with statues straight out of British Mythology. He wandered past the statue of Titania sitting on the bull's head, his eyes studying the three sisters frozen in dance, and the cruel beauty of Mab captured in granite. His fingers trailed across the large boulder with the carved, stone sword thrust into it and froze.
The rose bushes were just beyond the boulder.
The night Mindy had broke Gunnar's heart, Maeve had begun the healing process in those rose bushes. She had been so gentle and loving, soothing his pain beneath the night sky. It was their special spot. Maeve so loved her roses. She was as sweet and beautiful as their blossoms.
But she has her thorns.
Gunnar frowned, staring harder at the thick tangle of vines. The bushes seemed to have grown wilder, the thorny branches so entwined Gunnar couldn't see in at all, and yet he thought he glimpsed Maeve lying inside the bushes staring up at the sky. She seemed so sad, her red hair plastered to the muddy ground, her eyes staring vacantly up at the sky.
A chill ran through Gunnar even as his heart beat faster. He took a step towards the bushes. Part of him so desperately wanted to see Maeve, to learn that last night had been some terrible trick, some mistake. He wanted to believe she wasn't a demon trying to kill him, but the same, loving woman she had been yesterday.
But he could never forget that snarling, monstrous face she had worn last night. He backed away, forcing his eyes to tear away from the rose bush. His steps grew longer. He broke into a run, wanting to leave all his pain and problems behind.
Gunnar wasn't sure where he was running to. He kept pumping his arms, pushing his body. His legs grew heavy, his side aching. He gasped in thick breaths as sweat poured down his head. He ignored the fatigue as long as he could, his grief and fear driving him past his endurance. He raced through residential streets, dodging passing cars, ignoring their surprised honks.
His stamina finally gave out. He sank down onto the curb, staring at the water running in a leaf-strewn rivulet along the base of the curb, racing towards the nearby storm drain. He didn't care that the seat of his pants grew wet.
“Gunnar?”
Gunnar looked up to see Brad, a lanky guy with glasses. “Hey,” Gunnar grunted.
Brad and his girlfriend Felicity were friends with Gunnar and Maeve. Once, Gunnar and Maeve had swung with Brad and his girlfriend. Gunnar had found it hot watching Maeve with Brad as Felicity worked her mouth on his own cock.
“What happened to you last night?” Brad asked. “Evan said you went off to have some special fun.”
Gunnar shrugged.
“God, it's so fucked up. Have you heard from Maeve?”
“No.”
“You must be worried sick. Felicity was a frightful mess when I got home. I can't believe what happened.”
Gunnar frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“The sorority was attacked,” Brad said. “Felicity didn't make a lot of sense. She was drunk, but she thought some monster burst through the wall. One of the strippers was killed, and Magda was badly hurt. She's in the ICU at the hospital.”
“What?” Gunnar blinked again.
“I walked by the sorority a few minutes ago. There living room wall was demolished. Someone must have driven their car into it or something. And no one's seen Maeve. Felicity's frantic. She's been making phone calls all morning.” Brad ran his fingers through his hair. “I had to take a breather.”
“Felicity saw a monster?” Gunnar asked.
“Yeah, but she was pretty drunk. I mean, monster's aren't real.” Brad chuckled.
That's what I thought.
Gunnar's insides tightened.
Did Maeve hurt Magda? They were best friends. More than best friends. Maeve and Magda were so close.
“This is all so fucked up,” Gunnar groaned.
“So you have no idea where Maeve is?”
Gunnar hesitated. “No. And I don't care.”
Brad blinked.
“We're done. She's...not what...who I thought she was.”
“Did you see her last night? Is that why you left?”
Gunnar stood up. He didn't want to talk about it. “I need to go.”
“Yeah, okay.” Brad gave Gunnar a hug. “Felicity and I are here for you, man.”
“Thanks.” Gunnar broke the hug. Thunder peeled in the distance. “Looks like another storm is coming.”
Brad snorted. “Yeah. Okay, man, take care.”
Gunnar nodded, walking back to his apartment. He took a slightly longer route, walking past Maeve's sorority house. The Kappa Alpha Xi House had the same, blown in wall that Corrigan's house had. Maeve's work. A pile of rotting ash was strewn across the yard. Police cars lined the street, technicians moving in and out of the house. A few of Maeve's sorority sisters huddled nearby in a small clump.
Gunnar kept walking before they noticed him.
Corrigan was waiting on his apartment steps. She stood up when he approached, a fearful, vulnerable look on her face. A cold wind blew hard, the storm nearing. Corrigan moved to him, let out a relieved sigh, and hugged him fiercely.
“I was so worried when I woke up and you were gone,” Corrigan whispered, nuzzling at his neck. “Oh, Gunnar. I thought...Maeve...” She trembled, sobbing again, her tears icy on his neck. “Don't leave me. She'll...come for me. She wants to kill me, Gunnar. I need you to protect me.”
“It's okay,” Gunnar whispered, rocking her in his arms. He felt nothing for the woman, and yet he found himself saying, “I won't let her hurt you.”
Corrigan sniffed loudly, and she wiped at her crystal tears. “Thank you, Gunnar.”
Her golden eyes filled his, bloodshot from her crying. She still seemed so perfect, a sculpture shaped of ice, breathtaking to behold. Gunnar's cock suddenly hardened.
“Can I...ask a favor?” she purred.
“What?” Gunnar frowned.
“Well...I know this is so sudden, but...” She bit her lip, her lithe body pressing harder against Gunnar. His cock throbbed harder, aching in his jeans.
“But?” Gunnar arched his eyebrows, trying to fight his desire. He was betraying Maeve.
How can I betray a lying, murderous monster?
“I need a place to stay...and I would feel so safe with you. You'll protect me. You'll keep that monster away from me like you did last night.” Her arm tightened about Gunnar's neck. “You're my hero.”
Corrigan's lips met his. They were sweet as fresh snow. Gunnar moaned to the kiss, his eyes closing. He tilted his head, losing himself into the passion of the kiss. He couldn't help himself. When he was kissing Corrigan, he filled his empty heart with something other than despair.
“Umm,” Corrigan purred, breaking the kiss. “Let's go inside where it's warm and cozy.”
Gunnar nodded, letting her lead him upstairs. It was so much easier to just surrender.
~ ~ ~
Corrigan shifted her hips as she led Gunnar upstairs. He followed her like a lost puppy, his resolve wavering. Her magic had probed him while they kissed, and his core defenses still remained. Corrigan's plan hadn't destroyed his love for Maeve as badly as she had hoped. He still ached for the Pixie; only his fear of the illusory Maeve Corrigan had glamoured held him back.
But Maeve was crushed. She wallowed in despair, hiding in her rose bushes like a simpering, weak Pixie. Maeve was a creature of passion. Corrigan had clipped her wings. The Pixie would probably never recover. She would just lie in those bushes until she faded away.
Corrigan savored her victory. It was so satisfying to lead Maeve right into her trap. The disbelief on the Pixie's face, shaking her right out of her passionate rage, would be a sight Corrigan would treasure for eons. It was far more satisfying than killing the Pixie.
And once Gunnar's my hellhound, I'll take him for a walk right past her rose bushes. He can piss on them until they die.
But first she had to make Gunnar hers.
They reached his bedroom, the bed neatly made. The lingering scent of sickly roses filled the room, the traces of Maeve's magic were everywhere, little enchantments to keep the home warm and cozy.
Corrigan savored violating them all.
She pushed Gunnar down on the bed, falling on him like a hungry snow leopardess. Gunnar groaned beneath her as she writhed on his hard cock, grinding her pubic mound against his girth. Her fingers pulled off his shirt, exposing that wonderfully-muscled torso. Her fingernails scarped down his sculpted flesh, leaving behind red marks. Gunnar groaned into her kiss as she dug her fingernails harder.