This is Pt 2 of "The Midsummer Bride". Sorry it took so long but it came out longer than I expected... There may be stuff in conflict with Pt 1 for that I apologize again did not expect it to be over 10,000 words.
Also I apologize that there are 2 different fonts. Kept trying to fix it but blog won't let me. >:(
Harper was in a deep sleep but some primal instinct for sensing danger woke him. He had allowed himself to be lulled to sleep beside Miranda. His arm was still wrapped around her. He looked down to see his member somewhat rigid.
Harper felt a light breeze at his back. His senses alert he turned to see that his window was open. He was sure he had closed it… He had central air and it was kinda warm that night except for the unnaturally chilly breeze.
He got out of bed, careful not to wake Miranda then closed the window and locked it. As soon as he did he heard a bump downstairs. Something knocking at his door. THUNK. THUNK. Miranda stirred. Whimpering. Harper kept a gun in his night stand. Making sure the safety was off he crept downstairs following the thunking noise.
THUNK. THUNK. It was coming from the front door. Harper left the lights off.
The thunking sound fell into temp with his own heart. His pulse quickened with adrenaline.
THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.
The knock was heavier this time. Like someone or multiple someones were running at the door.
THUNK. THUNK. THUNK. Harper thought the door would break. The knob jiggled with each THUNK.
Then came the voice of a woman who sounded feeble, child-like: “Open the door! Open the door I’m cold and tired. May I share your fire?”
“Who’s there?” Harper called out.
“We got lost! Please let us in…” THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.
Harper’s cop instincts informed him otherwise. He was glad to have invested in an extra pad lock. His heart drummed in his ears as he cautiously reached for the lock.
“Don’t open it.”
Harper spun around to find Miranda wide awake, her green eyes wide in terror and beautiful face drained of color. She had the iron poker in hand.
“Open the door!” the voice pleaded. A howling wind rose outside.
“Go back upstairs,” Harper ordered quietly. “Go into my room and lock the door.”
Instead Miranda asked, “Where do you keep your tools?”
THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!
“Open the door! Give us the girl!”
The voice became multiple voices. They were hollow making Harper’s blood run cold. He was not easily frightened but the next THUNK almost broke the door down.
“The closet down the hall,” Harper told her. A hammer would be a good weapon too. The wind howled outside. As Miranda sprinted for the kitchen the fire place suddenly lit up into a roaring flame, bathing the room in an orange yellow glow. THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!
Miranda came back with a portable nail gun that Harper received as a gift from his sister for Christmas last year. Before Harper could ask what she was doing Miranda began shooting the nails into the door. She shot in 7 long nails in a horse shoe pattern.
Once she was finished a terrible last shriek tore through the air. Then silence. The fire died leaving them once more in darkness. Harper was stunned. What just happened? He looked down at Miranda’s wrist to see the horned circle glowing but it quickly died away just like the flames in the fire place.
Miranda turned to Harper, her green eyes now calm, the panic receding from her body.
“Iron,” Miranda explained in a sigh. “Fairies hate iron. Among other things.”
“What was that?” Harper gaped. His thoughts were racing, trying to find a rational explanation for what just happened but couldn’t find a sane option.
“We need iron at every door,” Miranda walked past the dumbfounded inspector. “Hope you have enough nails.”
Harper ran his hand through his short dirty blond hair, his gun still firm in his grip. Muscle memory held a secure grip on his weapons. He wasn’t sure what to do next but do as Miranda said.
***
Miranda stirred. Her eyes snapped open and she sat up in bed. Her heart stuttered until she saw Harper sleeping in the chair. He looked so peaceful. It would have been a sin to wake him. They had quite a night last night.
Miranda quietly got out of bed. The fibers in the carpet were warm, welcoming her cold feet. They were better now. The cuts weren’t as bad as she thought. All of her wounds actually were almost completely healed… Strange.
The bed creaked as she lifted herself off the mattress. She walked over to Harper. The morning light illuminated his handsome face. He had a perfect sharp jaw with a mouth compressed in a hard line. He was deep in dreaming.
Miranda fought the urge to press her feminine lips onto his masculine mouth. Her loins quivered with excitement at the idea of kissing Harper’s thin stern lips. To feel the hard pulse of his arousal between her thighs, against her cunt before he set it free then buried it deep inside her.
Miranda felt her scar itch. She looked at the circle with two horns. She had been in the fairy realm. The Otherworld. She was a captive of the King of the Fairies: Oberon. Miranda swallowed the disquiet that gathered inside her to form a heavy stone in her throat. They had tried to take her again last night. They would try again.
She didn’t feel hungry. That was strange. Miranda thought back to what her grandmother had taught her about fairies. Harper moved in his sleep. Well she may not be hungry but she was betting he would be.
***
The birds were singing their morning tune as Miranda went down stairs finding the quaint kitchen. Olive green cabinets, a brown wooden counter top with a simple off white fridge with more pictures of his family. Some office yellow post-its. An old off white sink with a pewter spout and a chain and rubber stopper.
And a small round table with four chairs for an intimate family of four. She smiled to herself. It felt good to be in a house. To feel it’s domestic energy wash over the panic and primal fear of the woods.
***
Harper smelled something burning. He woke with a start from his chair to see that Miranda wasn’t in his bed which was made. Not taking any chances Harper crept downstairs, his hand gun ready. He peaked around the corner to see Miranda at the stove. He noticed her wounds were rapidly healing at least… then he took in the woman standing in his kitchen.
Her long dark hair was somewhat matted but elegantly cascading in dark curls over her shoulder. She was wearing one of his other dress shirts. A powder blue one that he wore to his sister’s wedding. By far the only nice shirt he owned. It hung off Miranda’s curves so nicely that Harper ashamedly felt a twitch in his cock.
She had fair shapely legs. He wondered what it would feel like to have them wrapped around his waist… his head? What was it about a woman wearing a man’s shirt that was so sexy? Two slices of toast popped out of the toaster just as Miranda turned and smiled at the dumbstruck Inspector.
“Morning,” she smiled. “Thought I’d make breakfast. How do you like your eggs?”
Relieved that his house guest was safe, though still a bit flushed he coughed then said, “Sunny side up. Is that sausage?”
“Sorry I didn’t wake you,” Miranda apologized. “Hope you don’t mind me cooking.”
“Not at all,” Harper got out some Prussian blue plates and coffee mugs from the pale green cabinets.
“You just looked so peaceful I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Thanks for that.”
Harper started to make coffee and got out the butter and jam for the toast. Harper noticed that Miranda was only cooking one egg yolk.
“You must be hungry after…” Harper started but thought better of it until Miranda finished for him.
“Being kidnapped?” She smiled at him with his crystal blue eyes dark and cynical but still kind. “You can say it.”
Miranda placed a sunny side up egg and some sausages on the Prussian blue plate and handed it to Harper. She didn’t eat but she did pour herself a cup of coffee. They sat opposite each other at the kitchen table. It was a small perfectly round dark wood table made from oak. The table cloth was a blue and white plaid square matching the plates.
They sat in silence for a while. Enjoying the other’s presence. Miranda pretended to sip the coffee. She put sugar and cream in it turning the black brew into a beige color. Steam writhed like a serpent into the air. Miranda was hypnotized by it’s dance. She sipped at the hot liquid but it didn’t have a taste. She felt it’s heat but couldn’t taste the sugar or the cream or the coffee itself. Why?
“Dr. Bran should have the test results back for me today,” Harper said after he finished his egg and sausage.
“What do you think they’ll say?” Miranda asked, more curious than afraid.
“Well…,” Harper sat back in his wooden seat, crossing his strong arms. Miranda watched as Harper’s firm bicep tested the limit of his white cotton sleeve. She remembered them wrapped around her, how safe they made her feel. “You told me you remembered the name of the man who took you. Did he give you anything? Food that made you foggy or sick?”
Miranda closed her eyes trying to remember. Looking at the coffee mug a vision flashed before her. A golden chalice studded with emeralds filled with white liquid. It wasn’t milk. She remembered taking only a sip…
“You were his captor for 7 years,” Harper reminded her. “I’m sure it was traumatic for you. It’ll come back to you…”
“I still can’t believe it’s been 7 years…,” Miranda opened her eyes. “It only felt like a day. Grandma said time passed differently in the Otherworld.”
“The Otherworld?”
They suddenly both heard a small scratching at the door. They exchanged looks. Harper took the carving knife firmly in his hand walking cautiously towards the door. Miranda tensed in her seat, ready to make a break for it.
The Inspector carefully opened the door. Harper saw that it was only a black house cat with large green eyes staring at him.
“Where did you come from?” Harper wondered aloud. The creature darted swiftly inside. In one leap he was on Miranda’s lap.
“You have any neighbors with cats?” Miranda asked.
“Not that I know of…,” Harper relaxed then shut the door. The cat rubbed itself against Miranda, purring all the while as she was scratched behind the ears and petted.
“I’m sure I have some cream,” Harper got a bowl for the cat, pouring in the ivory liquid into a small wooden cereal bowl. The cat jumped off Miranda’s lap and lapped at the cream in the bowl content. “Most likely a stray though I don’t know many strays who would venture up here though…”
Harper sat back down opposite Miranda who watched him with her deep bejeweled pools. He felt he could lose himself in them. These eyes were serious though. Sober. Everything she was saying she believed.
“My friends and I are into the paranormal,” Miranda explained continuing their conversation from earlier, holding the blue coffee mug in her palms. “That’s why we came here. We heard that sometimes strange lights appear in the woods. People hear music and laughter but don’t see anyone. Rick and Hayley were into aliens and ghosts but I was fascinated by fairies. I know that sounds silly…”
“A lot of Americans love Tinkerbell,” Harper softly joked.
“No,” Miranda stared at him unblinking, fear flashed in her olive green eyes. “Nothing as tame as Tinkerbell. Real. Scary creatures that steal children and kidnap humans. They tried to come in here and take me. You were there!”
“Miss Love…,” Harper grappled with what to say. The girl was on edge. “I don’t know what happened last night.”
“They’re the ones who took me… Oberon took me and…he…”
Miranda gripped the mug, her knuckles turning white. Her beautiful pink lips parted slightly as she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She felt her pussy dampen creating a stickiness between her thighs. She may not remember but her cunt certainly did. It craved Oberon’s cock as well as reviled it. Lust and shame made Miranda’s chest tighten it was hard to breathe.
“Miranda…,” it was the first time he spoke her name out loud. It felt so intimate. People don’t know the intimacy that comes with calling a person by their first name because they take advantage of it. But when you go from Miss Love to Miranda that’s when walls start crumbling down.
Harper couldn’t help it. He reached across the table, placing his hand on her wrist. The warmth of his skin on hers brought Miranda back to the present. She smiled at him.
Harper felt her soft flesh. He wondered for a moment how it would feel to have her entirely naked and pressed against the rest of his bare flesh. Miranda sensed his thoughts. Slowly she rose from her seat then walked over to him.
She stood before him and they stared. Harper should have moved. He should have stopped this. But once again he found himself at the mercy of his desires. Miranda made the first move. She lowered herself then pressed her supple lips against his.
Miranda sat on his lap, caressing his face, Harper’s stubble tickling her palms. Harper circled his arm around her waist while his other hand ran up her soft round thigh, pushing the shirt up and over her hips as their kiss deepened. He could feel her nipples pucker, stiff through his shirt, poking into his chest.
She tasted different. Different from other women. He tasted berries and honey, but ten times sweeter. Miranda pressed herself harder against Harper. She could feel his aching arousal beneath his cotton pants. It could have easily tore a hole through the fibers. Miranda’s hand wandered down to set it free, her tongue already deep in Harper’s mouth.
That’s when Harper stopped her. He broke the kiss, his body screaming at him to go on.
“We shouldn’t…,” he whispered. His chest rose and fell as Miranda felt his rapid heart beat.
They stared at each other for a moment, measuring the other. Waiting for the other to make a move. Then by some saving grace they heard the front door open with a sweet voice along with a rough barking of a dog.
“Artemus,” she called. “I got your call last night—“
Miranda and Harper looked to see a woman in her late 50s, fair slightly aged skin with shining hazel eyes, long white blond hair under a gypsy bandana and a stunning smile that quickly turned into an “O”. With her was an old golden lab with big brown eyes, his tail wagging, his hanging out of his mouth.
“Oh my,” she placed a hand on her heart but laughed jovially. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
Miranda quickly hopped off Harper’s lap. She tucked some loose hair behind her ear, looking away embarrassed and cheeks flushed with passion. The dog suddenly began to bark and growl at Miranda.
“Mrs. Everette, thank you for coming,” Harper was afraid to get up because of the massive erection poking through his plaid cotton pants.
Mrs. Everette smirked devilishly, her hazel eyes twinkling with mischief as she set a paper bag on the table filled with girl clothes.
“You said you needed clothes for a girl. You made it sound so urgent,” Mrs. Everette winked. “And what happened to this girl’s old clothes I wonder.”
“I’m Miranda,” Miranda introduced herself. The dog barked and growled.
“Quiet, Churchill,” Mrs. Everette ordered. “You don’t have a cat do you? You know how Churchill can’t stand them.”
“Actually…”
The black cat suddenly made itself known. It hissed at Churchill who backed down, whimpering in defeat.
“Takes quite a little beast to cow Churchill,” Mrs. Everette cocked an eyebrow impressed. Miranda loved her accent. It sounded so elegant yet rustic. The old woman pulled out a red flower on black sun dress. It was something from the 1970s. It would cover Miranda’s shoulders and reach down to her ankles.
“You look about my sister’s size,” Mrs. Everette pressed the dress to Miranda’s body to see if the measurements were right. “She had a lovely figure too. Well until she had 8 runts now you’d never know she had a elegant figure that made all the boys chase her.”
“I’m sure it’ll fit, thank you, Mrs. Everette,” Harper waved a hand. His erection was growing soft allowing him to stand without embarrassment.
Miranda smiled saying thank you then went up stairs with the rest of the clothes to change. The cat followed her, leaping up the stairs like lightning.
Mrs. Everette watched after her while Harper put the dishes in the sink.
“And where did you find that little flower?” she asked. “And since when do you have a cat?”
“She was a missing person, Miranda Love,” Harper explained. “Gone missing 7 years ago until today. She was all cut up and bruised. The cat… well Miss Love found him meowing at my door and took it in. Definitely a stray.”
“Poor girl,” Mrs. Everette spoke with sympathy then she became skeptical. “She seems to be doing well now but I’ve never known strays to venture so far out of town.” Mrs. Everette began helping Harper clean up. She had been over his house so many times she knew where everything went. She would clean and watch his house for him when he needed it. Harper spent more time at work than at home.
“Yes, she’s resilient,” Harper admired. He ran the hot water and began lathering the sponge with dish soap.
“She has an odd energy,” Mrs. Everette spoke mystified. “She’s been touched by the Unseen.”
Harper chuckled dryly. Mrs. Everette fancied herself a druid. She regularly participated in the pagan holidays. Harper had been to her house. It was something out of Medieval times with dry herbs hanging from the ceiling, a cauldron in the fire place, crystals, and a spell book. She ran a shop that sold “magical” shampoos, lotions, perfumes to help a person find fortune, protect them from harm, and love.
“She’s been missing 7 years you say?” Mrs. Everette said. “How long does she believe she’s been gone?”
Harper sighed tiredly. He tolerated Mrs. Everette’s talk of fairies. Some people need to believe in something he guessed. This world was so dark and terrifying people needed someone to blame for their loved ones going missing.
“A day,” Harper answered. “But she was drugged. You didn’t see her when she came to the station. She was in a fog, her feet were cut and knees and elbows skimmed. Miss Love has been held captive.” He didn’t turn but continued, “The world is already full of monsters and they’re all too human.”
But Miranda mentioned fairies as well. What was everyone’s obsession with fairies? Mrs. Everette frowned, taking a firm motherly stance with her hands on her hips and eye brow arched.
“Artemus Harper,” she spoke his full name with a sternness that made Harper wince. It was never good when a woman spoke his full name. He felt like a little boy in trouble again. “You are going to have to forgive yourself one of these days. You did all you could do for that little girl.”
Harper turned off the water letting the plate soak in the foggy hot water of food, grease, and soap. The sun beamed through the window then disappeared behind a gray cloud. He could still see that little girl’s body butchered like a dog, her blood staining the concrete. Then Harper saw the body of the one who killed her, himself holding the weapon that smashed his skull in.
“Miss Love was taken by some sick pervert,” Harper insisted softly. “There are no such things as fairies.”
***
Evening fell on them in a lazy fashion that was unique to summer. The golden sun began to descend leaving an orange, purple sky. Mrs. Everette spent the day with Miranda while Harper was on his cell phone with his station. Mrs. Everette was cooking dinner while Miranda and Harper sat on the couch in the living room.
They were a respectable distance a part though Harper could have easily inched forward and their knees would have touched. The couch was a burgundy cloth with dark blue pillows. It felt out of place in the rustic house. Too modern.
“The station contacted your family and friends,” Harper explained. “Your parents are…” Miranda sat with her hands folded in her lap, her legs close together. She looked fetching in that dress. Her breasts were ample, wanting to say hello to him. Harper shook his head, trying to get rid of the dirty thoughts. This was serious.
“Your mother…,” Harper took a deep breath looking into Miranda’s intent green olive eyes. “She died 2 years ago.”
The silence hung heavy in the air between them. Miranda didn’t flinch. The shock sort of paralyzed her. Harper could see the 5 stages of grief working rapidly in her face.
“How?” Miranda finally spoke.
“Suicide.”
Miranda nodded. Sounded right. Her mother was always fragile. Mercurial yet doting. She lived for her child. Miranda use to bitch and moan about how her mother would call her every day leaving these annoying messages on her phone. How she’d freak out if Miranda didn’t answer back after 2 days.
Then Miranda thought about how she would never get those annoying messages again. She would never hear her mother’s hysterical crying and laughing at some joke dad told at a work party one time. No more stern dad looks when she brought a boy home or called one on the phone.
No more smiling goofily at her from across the room. Miranda asking “What?” Then seeing her mother shrug and say, “Nothing.” Then sip her cup still smiling with love and pride making Miranda roll her eyes.
Something in Miranda sank. Sank deep forming a knot in her stomach. Harper moved closer, placing a hand on her folded ones. Miranda faltered, her mouth becoming a hard compressed line trying to hold something back.
“And my dad?” she asked straightening up, her knee bumping against Harper’s, keeping it there making Harper’s pulse skip sending some small message to his cock that twitched inappropriately.
“I’m afraid your father has cancer. He’s in the hospital on life support,” Harper refocused, trying to be a cop first. “But your friends Atwater and Bennett are coming for you.”
“Good…,” Miranda nodded. “That’s good…”
“I’m sorry about your parents,” Harper said knowing what it was like to lose a parent. No matter your age it still touched something deep inside you. Like a tether that you never noticed before until suddenly it snaps, sending you adrift.
Miranda felt heavy. She quietly leaned over, resting her dark head on Harper’s strong shoulder. She breathed in his musk of earth, commercial soap and sausage. It was a comforting scent.
Harper froze for a moment. Feeling her head on his shoulder, wanting her to move closer. Harper wrapped a comforting arm around Miranda who in turn embraced him, burying herself in his neck. Her black hair was soft.
Unintentionally Harper took a whiff of her. She smelled like honey suckles. Mrs. Everette had also brought over some scented soaps and shampoos that she made herself to sell in her shop. Harper’s cock stiffened further as the feel and smell of her began to wash over him, engulf him.
“The Tempest…,” Miranda finally spoke.
“What?”
“My parents loved Shakespeare,” Miranda explained as she lifted her head and body up, leaving an imprint of her touch on Harper’s body that suddenly felt cold without her. “The Tempest was mom’s favorite so she named me Miranda after Prospero’s daughter. At least it’s my first name.”
Harper tilted his head. Then Miranda smirked, “My full name is Miranda Hermia Love.” Hermia was heroine in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” that was in love with a man who was in love with someone else until fairies mucked everything up then fixed it giving the play a happy ending with every couple where they should be.
Harper stared for a moment. Without warning a chuckle escaped him. Miranda elbowed him hard in the ribs.
“Apologies,” Harper said smiling. “I’m the last person to criticize someone’s name.”
“Oh yeah you’re name is Artemus right?” Miranda’s mouth curved in humor.
“My mother loved Greek Mythology and she’s a feminist,” Harper explained. “My older sister’s name is Apollina.”
They both laughed. Smiles wide enough all their white teeth showed. Their legs rubbed up against each other. Harper had begun to brush his fingers over Miranda’s knee cap. It sent sensations through Miranda’s skin, a surge awoke her pussy that made her underwear dampen.
“We are such stuff as dreams are made on,” Miranda quoted. “And our little life is rounded with a sleep.”
“Lord, what fools these mortals be…,” Harper quoted. He remembered little from that play but that line always stuck out for him.
Harper’s hand went still, resting on her knee. The universe seemed to halt. The world around them began to disappear as they looked into each other’s eyes. Was it just lust? Harper’s cock turgid shaft was pushing against his fly trying to get out. Miranda felt her weeping pussy quiver.
Her mouth went dry. Harper watched as her breasts heaved, threatening, pleading to be set free from their cotton confines. Miranda was captured by Harper’s tortured blue eyes while he was equally falling into her emerald pools. They were two magnets drawn to each other. As they leaned in they heard:
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Mrs. Everette called out. Miranda and Harper stopped. Miranda bit her lip, trying to hide her disappointment.
“I may be hungry now…,” Miranda spoke awkwardly. She walked away feeling the wetness of her underwear, her thighs sticky with her arousal.
***
Miranda didn’t eat anything at dinner. She took a few bites but still couldn’t taste anything. Still she didn’t feel the pangs of hunger. The image of that golden chalice with “not-milk” in it. She only took a sip. It tasted like… it was hard to describe. It was delicious definitely but Miranda couldn’t put a pin on one flavor. It tasted like all her favorite drinks and foods. Strawberries, pasta, devil food cake, Coca-Cola.
Miranda put on a night gown that Mrs. Everette brought for her. It was a periwinkle blue with sky blue lace fringe. Her breasts were snug in the cups still revealing some ample cleavage. Thinking of Harper made her wet again. She had taken off her underwear to see some cum and her love juices had soaked the fabric. Nothing like quoting William Shakespeare to get one in the mood…
The cat slinked in, hopping onto the bed without invitation. It rubbed up against Miranda who ran her hand along it’s smooth black body. It meowed at her calmly.
“Maybe I can take you back home with me. You’d like that?” Miranda asked as if the cat would answer. It stretched itself out on the bed while Miranda’s thoughts returned to Harper. The heat of their bodies set her nerves aflame with desire. She never felt like this for someone she just met. She believed in the supernatural but love at first sight? There were still some things Miranda was skeptical about.
Miranda suddenly started hearing music. It was faint. Flutes seducing her ears with their soft, melodious sound. The cat meowed then darted out of the room. Miranda followed it. Mrs. Everette was in the living room doing some dusting. Harper was upstairs taking a call from work.
The cat scratched at the door making light marks with it’s sharp claws.
“Don’t do that,” Miranda scolded softly. She opened the door, the ghostly melody grew louder. The last rays of the sun had disappeared, the stars began to come out of hiding. She lost sight of the cat. When she blinked Miranda saw a fire in the dark shadows of the forest.
She heard laughter ringing in the air along with the beautiful music. More Litha celebrants?
Miranda’s chest tightened. She felt a lump in her throat. Her mind was becoming a fog. She knew she shouldn’t be outside right now. She was only wearing a night gown for god sakes! She needed to go back inside but her body was drawn towards the mysterious sound and lights.
Suddenly Miranda saw a very handsome, fair skinned young man with short dark curly locks, eyes as blue as sapphires and full lips set in a light dark beard. He had the bearing of royalty. An air of confidence. But he wore simple clothing. A white shirt with a brown leather vest, brown slacks and brown shoes.
He smiled at her and Miranda felt her knees turn gooey. She never thought of herself as one of those girls who instantly melts when a hot guy smiled at her but this guy… there was something about him. Something otherworldly that put him above the rest.
He held out his hand to her. Miranda’s body dissociated with her mind at that moment though her mind also went blank. What she wanted most was to take this man’s hand and follow him wherever he went. The distance closed between them. Time slowed down.
“Hello, Miranda…,” the man said. His voice was as pure as silver and as sweet as honey. Miranda felt her pussy saturate with love juices at the sound of his voice, the way he said her name. Her body went numb with pleasant sensations at this man’s touch…
“Dance with us,” he beckoned. He pulled lightly and Miranda moved with him. Before she knew it Miranda was in the woods. There was a bonfire and people dancing around it. Men and women, some short, some tall, in the air were lights bobbing and floating in the air.
***
Harper took the call in his room.
“I have the results and everything checks out,” Dr. Bran read off the charts he received.
“Are you sure?” Harper was skeptical. His room faced the forest. He stared out at the morning landscape, the gears in his mind turning. Trying to think of a better explanation.
“There was one thing…,” Dr. Bran sounded unsure.
“What?”
A pause. Then Dr. Bran said, “It could be nothing…”
“Tell me,” Harper ordered.
Dr. Bran sighed then said, “When the human body ages, it’s cells begin to decay and die. We age at least every 10 years but Miss Love’s cells… They haven’t aged. Not one. She’s still a healthy 23 year old girl, physically.”
“That’s impossible,” Harper spoke in disbelief.
“I checked it 5 times, mate,” Dr. Bran assured him, sounding a bit offended. “Like she was gone for only a day. My machines must be broken.”
That’s when Harper noticed a bonfire in the tree line along with dancing lights. Then he saw Miranda with a man he didn’t know leading her towards the lights.
***
Everyone was dancing and drinking merrily to the music. Miranda was mesmerized as the young man drew her into the dancing circle. The sounds and lights were intoxicating. Miranda was drunk on joy as she spun in the circle. She felt as light as a feather, the weight of the real world lifting from her tired young shoulders.
She was filled with a familiar euphoria. It blinded her common sense that became a shrinking voice that became a whisper from the outside. The sounds were deafening. Miranda felt that she would leave her body then dissolve into the happy madness of the party.
Then Miranda felt a pair of hands on her waist lift her up out of the dancing circle then felt a pair of warm lips press a heated kiss on her neck. Her pulse quickened. She melted into him. She turned to look at the man who took her here.
“Dance with me,” he asked with a smile. The gleam in his dark blue eyes held Miranda in an invisible lustful caress.
He placed his right hand on her waist while taking her right hand in his left. Everything went quiet for a moment. Everything was still and then Miranda heard the music again. It was slow and steady at first building up into a passionate medley as Miranda and her enigmatic dance partner spun around.
His hand on her waist moved to the small of her back, drawing her in closer. The scenery dissolved into darkness until they were no longer in the dark green forest but in a great golden mirrored hall with crystal chandeliers and other fancy dressed people wearing masks. She managed to catch a glimpse of herself in one of the mirrors.
Miranda wasn’t wearing her long periwinkle blue nightgown but an elegant ball gown made of glittering dark green silk. She wore diamond drop earrings and a diamond and emerald/ jet stone tiara, her hair in soft curls draped down her back strewn with more diamonds like stars trapped in the night sky. Her stranger wasn’t wearing simple peasant clothes anymore but a royal blue suit with golden buttons, white pants, and black dancing shoes.
“Green is your color,” her dance partner whispered in her ear. “Matches your eyes.”
“What is this?” the fear that was suffocated suddenly gasped with fresh air filling it’s lungs as Miranda began to realize what was happening.
“You know,” he spoke with a knowing smile. Miranda’s heart stopped as he twirled her around, she pulled away but he drew her back into his strong embrace.
“Oberon…,” Miranda whispered in fear.
“I looked into your mind,” Oberon said as they continued to dance. “You like men with blue eyes and dark hair. I tried the dirty blond look but I much prefer having dark hair.” His eyes turned black. As black as a void that threatened to swallow Miranda whole.
Miranda tried to pull away but Oberon had a strong grip.
“Now, Miranda…,” Oberon’s black eyes became a sapphire blue again. “Did you think you could get away from me that easily?”
He lifted her right wrist to his lips, kissing her mark. It burned for a few seconds. Miranda winced. She could feel his lustful loins harden and pulse against her own which were smoldering with memory. She was disturbed by the raw power of her attraction to him even though she knew what he was. The creature that lay beneath the human facade.
“Once you’ve been marked by me,” Oberon spun Miranda around then pressed her back to his front whispering darkly. “Then you’re mine.”
There were people in the room but they only stared on apathetically as Oberon’s hand traveled up and squeezed her breast through the fabric of her dress. His hot breath on her neck made her want to melt into him. His other hand was over her mound.
“I can feel the heat within you,” he whispered seductively.
“Please stop,” Miranda was breathless. But she wanted to lift up her skirts letting his hand explore where she was damp and desperate for his touch. His cock poked her tail bone.
“You don’t mean that,” Oberon smiled evilly. “I will say I was impressed when you saw through my glamour.” Oberon spun Miranda back around to face him to continue their sinful dance. He dipped her then slowly brought her back up all in one fluid motion.
“You’re different from the others,” Oberon said. “Perhaps that’s why I want you more badly than the others.”
The others started to join them. They danced in sync as if of one hive mind.
“What are you talking about?” Oberon lifted Miranda into the air then let her back down, continuing the dance.
“Every Midsummer I leave my world to take human brides,” Oberon explained. “I have thousands of wives. Not many stand out but you… There’s something different about you.”
“I’m nothing special,” Miranda insisted trying to keep her head but she was close to drowning in this fairytale. Then Miranda caught another glimpse in the mirror. This time it wasn’t a golden tableau but a grotesque nightmare.
Oberon was in his true form in the mirror. A midnight blue skinned creature with goat legs, a lean muscular body, black claws, a pair of stag horns growing like gnarled tree branches out of his bald head. His cat-like snout wrinkled. His supernatural cock was stiff and wagging. Miranda’s pussy wept at the sight of it.
“You are,” he spoke in a deep, dark growling voice. “Most women who look upon my true form die of terror. So I keep them in a dream world.”
“Until you’re done with them,” Miranda retorted. “Fairies are fickle and capricious.”
Oberon returned to his human disguise, his sensuous mouth in an upward curve of desire. They twirled around the golden dance floor.
“You’re delaying the inevitable. You already drank the ambrosia,” Oberon explained.
They stopped. Everyone danced around them in perfect harmony. Oberon became stern, “There’s only pain and suffering waiting out there for you. Your mother is dead. Your father will be dead soon. Perhaps you’ll be able to get back home in time to say good bye but then what? Your friends are older than you remember.”
“My friends care about me,” Miranda spoke through gritted teeth. Oberon shrugged.
“Seven years is a long time,” Oberon said as they twirled. The sounds of music and laughter blended together creating a symphony of madness making Miranda queasy. “Your friends will leave you behind.”
“You think the detective is going to fall in love with you? Ask you to stay?” Oberon spoke incredulously.
Miranda thought about Harper. His blue eyes full of kindness and pain. His strong protective arms wrapped around her. That kiss. It was impulsive but there was something there. A raw passion that she couldn’t explain. Miranda trusted him. But he didn’t seem the romantic type. Maybe there was nothing between them.
Oberon held out his hand and in his palm and there he beheld a golden apple.
“You already drank the ambrosia,” he whispered gently. “When you eat this you’ll never leave again.”
Is that why Miranda didn’t hunger or thirst? Food from the fairy realm was dangerous. She remembered her grandmother telling her that once.
“You know you want to stay…,” Oberon spoke softly with a gleam in his sapphire eyes.
It was all an illusion yes but it was quite a beautiful illusion. To never grow old or know hunger and thirst again. Miranda reached for the berries. Her life before all this seemed to fade into static. A white noise that shrunk in importance and relevance. The faces of her friends and family, all of her loved ones including those she disliked faded away as she reached for the glittering golden apple.
“Miranda!” She knew that voice.
“Harper?” Miranda turned towards the sound of Harper’s voice that grew louder.
“Ignore him,” Oberon insisted. “Take a bite.”
“MIRANDA!”
The illusion evaporated and they were suddenly in the mossy green forest again with her in her simple night gown. Then Miranda saw Harper breathless from running.
“Don’t run off like that,” Harper scolded as he pulled her beside him. Then he turned to the young man, “Who are you?”
Oberon’s eyes went pitch black with rage. A growl emanated from deep within his throat as he glared at his human rival.
“Harper, you have to go,” Miranda warned.
“I’m not letting you go anywhere,” Harper stepped in front of Miranda to shield her from whatever threat came out. Harper saw the man’s eyes. They flashed from pitch black to human blue in seconds.
“Listen to her, mortal,” Oberon growled. Harper heard another growl, a more primal, animalistic growl. He saw the paw prints in the dirt and moss. A huge cat paw crushed a beetle that was passing by.
“What the fuck…” Harper gaped drawing his weapon even though he didn’t see what he was about to shoot at if he would even hit it. Miranda saw it though. The panther monster that was in the station.
“Harper,” Miranda whispered in fear.
“Stay behind me,” Harper said. His muscles tensed, his whole body alert for whatever was going to attack.
“My beast doesn’t usually eat humans but,” Oberon grinned evilly. “He does like to play.”
The invisible beast lunged at Harper who fired his gun, only grazing the creature. It pinned him down to the wet morning dew ground. Harper felt the crushing weight on his arms and torso, it’s hot foul breath on his face and neck, and the sharp claws piercing into his flesh like knives.
Just when Harper felt the creature’s saliva dripping from it’s fangs, he heard the delicate ringing of a bell. Oberon winced, covering his ears as if he heard a loud explosion. Miranda turned to see Mrs. Everette her face calm but her hazel eyes full of fire. She was holding a silver bell and ringing it. She continued to ring it making both beast and master cringe and cry out in agony. Then they disappeared.
Miranda helped Harper to his feet. Blood dripped from his wounds adding a crimson color to his skin.
“What the hell was that?” Harper asked.
“Back inside, quickly,” Mrs. Everette ushered them out of the forest into the house. From the woods eyes watched them with malicious interest. Whispering dark things to each other in the cover of night and forest. Miranda could hear them even at a distance. They sent chills through her spine creating a knot in her intestines.
***
Mrs. Everette laid her hands on Miranda who sat still on the couch.
“You’ve been marked, dear,” she said.
“This is insane,” Harper shook his head in disbelief. They had bandaged his wounds. Churchill lay by the fireplace letting out a whine every now and then.
“You saw the beast for yourself,” Mrs. Everette scolded.
“I didn’t see anything,” Harper said. Though he was more inclined now to believe that something supernatural was happening now. Anything that can draw blood is real enough for Harper.
“But she did,” Mrs. Everette held Miranda’s right wrist gently but firmly in her aged hands. Her bourbon eyes gleaming, brow furrowing in deep concentration. Her raven feather earrings swayed as she moved her head inspecting the horned circle.
“This is blood magic,” Mrs. Everette gasped softly. “Powerful. Dark.”
“Can you undue it?” Miranda asked hopeful.
“The fairies are old,” Mrs. Everette wondered. “Older than the island itself. Their knowledge of magic is more than my own. Did you eat or drink anything from their world?”
Miranda stared at Mrs. Everette. Her green eyes became rheumy. Hot tears of shame slid down her ashen cheeks.
“I only sipped it…,” Miranda choked.
“What does that mean?” Harper asked anxiously.
“But you didn’t eat the golden apple?”
Miranda shook her head.
“Then there’s hope,” Mrs. Everette patted Miranda’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly, a broad warm smile on her face.
“What does that mean?” Harper felt out of the loop.
“There’s still a few days left of Midsummer,” Mrs. Everette got up getting things from her bag, herbs, flowers, crystals and jars of stuff Harper didn’t want to know. “Oberon and his fairies will try again. If we can keep her in this house until after Litha then she’ll be free.” Mrs. Everette handed Harper a garland of St. John’s Wort. Miranda knew the flower was one of the things one may use to repel fairies.
“Her hunger will return and the mark should fade as you get farther from here,” Mrs. Everette continued. She started fairy proofing the house. “No fairy is going to get past us, dear, don’t worry. And no more letting in strays.”
“You mean the cat?” Harper asked confounded.
“That was Oberon’s beast in disguise,” Mrs. Everette explained. “It’s hard to wash it’s smell off you. Dogs can smell it no matter how many times you wash or how hard you scrub.”
So that was why Churchill and that other dog freaked out around Miranda. Dogs. Sharp senses.
***
After they guarded the house with salt, iron, herbs they all went to bed. Garlands of St. John’s Wort decorated every window along with arcane sigils made from human blood from a person born on All Souls Day. Harper was afraid to ask where Mrs. Everette got that from.
Harper lay on his back staring at the ceiling fan. Flowers, sigils, amethyst crystals crowded his windows. He had a iron poke next to his bed just in case. Then he heard a small creak.
Miranda stood in the doorway of Harper’s bedroom. They didn’t say anything. Miranda silently crawled into bed with Harper who didn’t protest. What was the use?
Miranda snuggled up to Harper. They lay there in the dark not saying a word, their hearts beating uncertainly. Miranda boldly draped her leg over Harper’s. My God this girl was trouble! Harper felt her hand rest on his chest. Her body wanted him. Every fiber of her being crying out in need. It’s been a long time since she’d wanted someone, another human, with such urgency.
Miranda’s palm was warm. She nudged his cheek with her nose as her hand traveled down towards his pants. She felt the bulge, rubbing it gently causing a groan of longing to escape Harper’s stern mouth. Miranda went further still as he felt the caress of her lips ghost a kiss on his ear. The sound of her breathing was making him harder. His body ached for hers.
Miranda’s hand suddenly slipped under the elastic of Harper’s pants. She took the engorged flesh into her hand beginning to stroke it.
“We shouldn’t,” Harper whispered a warning.
“We should…,” Miranda whispered back. Harper rested his arm, wrapping it around Miranda’s shoulder hugging her closer as she worked his shaft, freeing it from it’s bonds of cotton. Miranda kissed Harper’s neck, her lips sizzling on his flesh. His skin tingled with desire. He was overcome with a sudden lust for this girl.
Then Harper rolled over and gave Miranda a molten hot kiss. He was desperate to taste those foreign lips again. This time his seeking tongue parted her supple lips, tasting the richness inside her sinful mouth. It was warm and wet.
But resting between her wanton thighs he could feel a place that was warmer and wetter and willing. Miranda’s tongue sought him out as well dancing erotically in each other’s mouths. Harper rolled over on top of her, Miranda releasing her hold on his hard pulsating cock.
Miranda opened her legs, wide in welcome for him. She felt Harper’s hot flesh, iron hard resting against her wetness. She wanted to feel it inside her, to where she ached most for him since he took her to his home.
Harper pushed the dress shirt up over her hips, her stomach, her breasts, those luscious mounds with hard pointed nipples erect and firm with her lust. He buried his face into her cleavage, kissing and licking them to Miranda’s delight. She raked her fingers through his golden hair, pulling his head up to meet her to once more kiss her hard and brash yet slow and sensuous.
Miranda tore off the rest of her shirt then helped Harper drag his off. He then shed his pants. Now they were skin to skin. Hot and heavy. Flesh on fire. Harper trailed kisses down Miranda’s stomach, digging his tongue into her navel making her spasm, biting her lip.
Harper kissed her creamy white thigh. His stubble tickled her sensitive skin, causing goose bumps to erupt all over. Harper licked the wet slit. A thin trail of trimmed black hair above her moist sex. He kissed it, breathing in the scent of her lust. Miranda sighed blissfully, lifting her hips telling Harper to satisfy her.
He hadn’t gone down on a woman in a long time. He forgot the joy, the excitement of plunging one’s tongue into a woman’s hot pool of femininity. To hear her moan and feel her writhe and contort in ecstasy.
Harper cupped her pussy with his mouth. Miranda gasped as she felt his tongue dive inside her. She whimpered as Harper placed her legs over his shoulders. His nose was buried deep. Coming up he found her clit, stiff and engorged, waiting for him.
Miranda’s nerve endings were electrified. Her heart fluttered as Harper sucked on her fat clit. Her breathing became ragged as she climaxed.
Despite Miranda’s shallow breathing and moans he continued to lick her. Then Harper stopped, his face glistening with her juices. Then Miranda smiled at him and said, “Kiss me.”
Harper came forward letting Miranda claim his mouth for her own. She tasted herself on Harper’s lips. She wrapped her legs around his waist pulling him in, guiding his shaft inside her slippery private satin flesh. Miranda sighed as Harper pushed deeper. She dug her fingers into his back muscles as Harper gently rolled his hips. She panted in his ear as he quickened his pace.
Harper could feel an explosion building inside him. It felt so good to be inside Miranda. She was tight, her muscles soft like satin and molten hot. Miranda suddenly rolled over taking the dominant position. His cock still throbbing and hard inside her, Harper got a look at her in the moonlight, her fair freckled skin gleaming in the silver light.
They stared deep into each other’s eyes for a moment. Miranda’s hands hot and firm on Harper’s chest that slowly rose and fell from his nervous breathing. Then Miranda lowered herself, anchoring her lips over Harper’s. The scent of her hair enveloped around him as he felt the tickled of her dark locks on his chest.
Miranda kissed him sensually as his fingers ran along the curve of her body from her shoulders, along her back down to those lovely swollen cheeks. He pulled her up, urging her to move. Miranda obliged rocking her hips in a slow erotic rhythm driving Harper crazy. He was overcome with this urge to cum inside her. It’s been a long time since he’s done that inside a woman.
Miranda moved faster, riding Harper as he held onto her rocking hips. She moaned as she felt Harper hit her sweet spot. It was almost like listening to a song, the way she hit some high notes. Finally Miranda hit the crescendo. He shot his hot seed deep inside her. She bent over him, flesh glazed with sweat and rosy from her burst of pleasure.
Harper buried his face in Miranda’s perspired neck, some strands of hair damp and stuck on her wet flesh. Harper and Miranda lay there locked together, their sexual organs still fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. Harper eventually softened sliding out of Miranda as she slid off him wrapping her in his strong embrace. Miranda rested her head on Harper’s chest listening to the beat of his heart.
“How long has it been for you?” Miranda asked.
“Since I’ve had sex with a woman?” So it showed? Damn. “About a year and a half.”
“Quite the dry spell,” Miranda teased lightly.
“Sleeping with kidnap survivors isn’t recommended,” Harper chuckled.
They lay entwined, bodies awash with fiery sensations, their nerve endings still flickering.
“You think it’ll work?” Miranda asked. Harper moved a few strands of hair away from her face revealing her mysterious beauty.
“This is my first case involving fairies,” Harper spoke honestly. He pressed his face to her forehead savoring the smell of her, spring tempered by sweat. “I’m used to shooting flesh and blood people. Though… that’s what got me transferred here in the first place.”
Miranda looked at him with those forest green eyes that were so mesmerizing. They watched him curiously as Harper told her his story. There was a man kidnapping 12 year old girls. He would rape them then gut them, leave them in an alley with their guts leaking out for the rats to feed on. Harper had found out who he was but he had connections. Some posh ponce friends with the mayor of London.
Harper wasn’t allowed to go near him. He was suspended eventually for harassment. But Harper refused to back down. He found the bastard staking out his next target. She had long blond hair with large chocolate brown eyes and pouty lips. She was going to have to beat the boys away with a stick. Or her father would. Harper made sure that the girl would have that chance.
He shot him. Left him bleeding in the street as he did so many of his victims. He made sure to clean the scene of his presence. A witness identified him but none of the evidence stuck. Harper walked but was transferred to quiet Cornwall.
“It was worth it,” Harper said firmly.
“You did the right thing,” Miranda surprised him. “You saved that girl’s life and many others.”
His fingers raked through Miranda’s black tresses caressing her head as he angled his face to kiss her full lips. His tongue seemed to melt in her mouth. Harper rolled over, ready for another passionate romp. This time it was simple. Intense. Intimate.
They kissed deeply and Harper fucked Miranda slowly. His molten iron brand set her insides on fire reaching into her core. Miranda even called out her name, “Artemus!” He was always embarrassed by his first name but when Miranda said it… It was like a new song he wanted to put on repeat.
Every muscle in her body tensed as she reached that dizzying height. They came to that height together. They made love over and over first hard with a sense of urgency then slow and sensual as if an apology for the beginning until the sun rose and both their bodies were spent.
***
Miranda lay there in Harper’s embrace. Her back molding into his front. As the first golden rays of morning touched the floor then her white flesh Miranda could feel Harper’s steady breathing and cock poking her arse. She smiled as she reached behind her and began to stroke it. The shaft grew fat and rigid in her gentle grasp.
Harper stirred, moaning into Miranda’s ear. As she rubbed his turgid member Harper reached up and kneaded her breast, her brown nipple growing dark and erect as his thumb grazed over it. Harper kissed her neck whispering into her ear seductively, “You already wore me out…”
“You seem ready for another go to me,” Miranda guided the mushroom head of Harper’s cock to the soft warm petals of her womanly entrance. She was a little damp but her loins were like a fiery furnace, Harper groaned as his proud erection touched her puffy wet lips.
His body over ruled him again as Harper lifted Miranda’s leg up then pushed forward into her enticing, hot tunnel. It was a moment of carnal pleasure that sent their pulses racing into a dizzy frenzy. Miranda sighed heavenly.
Miranda played with her clit as Harper rolled his hips, pumping faster until he came. Miranda felt his hot seed deep in her womb. She cried out right after him. They lay entwine basking in the haze of sex in sheets damp from cum and sweat. Then Oberon’s words came back to ruin the bliss:
“You think the detective is going to fall in love with you? Ask you to stay?”
Miranda wondered.
“Harper,” Miranda asked.
“Hm?”
“When did you say Rick and Hayley were coming?”
“Tomorrow I think,” Harper sighed rolling over on his back, stretching his muscles. Missing the contact Miranda rolled over and Harper wrapped his strong arm around her, her face resting beside his.
“What if I don’t want to go?” she asked.
“Mrs. Everette says after Litha it will be safe for you to go,” Harper remembered.
“I mean after that…”
Harper turned to face Miranda, blue eyes puzzled, “What do you mean?”
Miranda propped herself on her elbows looking at Harper with her curious green eyes. Her dark curly hair draped over her one shoulder.
“I’ve been gone for 7 years,” Miranda recalled what Oberon said. “They have lives. Kids probably. Interested in new things. I’ve been gone a day and in that day the world moved on without me.”
“7 years isn’t that long.” Harper ran his fingers over Miranda’s bare shoulder. The light hit it so well he couldn’t resist pressing his lips to it.
“What about us then?” she asked trying not to sound foolish. She didn’t want to sound like a child. Harper thought it over.
“I’m a bit old for you,” he said.
“38 is not that old,” Miranda tilted her head, her tone going down an octave. “Besides technically I’m 30. 8 years isn’t that big of a difference.”
Harper cared about this girl. More than he expected to care. His male organ was getting hard again at the thought of being inside her.
“I’ll only make you miserable,” Harper said. “I’m a cynic with a bleak outlook. You’ll find someone I’m sure of it.”
With that Harper kissed her. They fell back into their sexual rhythm of hard and soft.
***
Harper and Miranda had spent the last two days fucking each other’s brains out. It was perhaps one of the few moments in his life that he found himself contented, not completely miserable. Mrs. Everette was a soldier who didn’t rest. She kept checking and re-checking the sigils and replacing flowers that wilted.
Harper and Miranda were at the breakfast table when they heard a knock. Harper had the iron poker ready just in case. He opened the front door to see a young black man in his late 20s in a blue t-shirt.
“I’m Rick Atwater,” he said dark human eyes full of apprehension. “Someone at the station said I could find Miranda—“
Miranda stepped into view her green eyes wide.
“Rick?” Miranda was in disbelief. Rick’s dark eyes brightened. He swept Miranda into his arms in a frenzy of joy. The way he hugged her suggested more than just a friend.
“My God, Miranda!” he was on the verge of tears. Harper closed the door behind them trying to dissolve into the background. He felt a smidgen of jealousy followed by guilt. He no right to be jealous after he just told Miranda to go and find someone.
“I thought you were dead,” Rick couldn’t let go. Miranda glowed inside… until she felt her scar itch and burn. She didn’t say anything though. She only smiled at Harper to reassure him.
***
Harper gave them some privacy. Mrs. Everette was folding laundry, giving Harper one of her disappointed mom looks.
“What?” he asked irritated.
“You’re just going to let that girl go?”
“I barely know her.”
“You seemed to know her well enough to almost break your bed for the past two nights,” Mrs. Everette raised a critical eye brow. “Reminds me of myself and my husband in the early days of our dating. The day we met it was like a thunder bolt. That passion never aged with us.”
“You think I was struck by this thunder bolt?” Harper leaned against the door frame of his room. He could still feel the heat of Miranda’s flesh. The sweat on his skin from hers. The blazing fire that erupted every time they touched.
“You tell me,” Mrs. Everette gave Harper the powder blue shirt that she wore her first night here. He smelled it. It lost her scent. He missed that scent. Suddenly the house began to shake. A gust of howling wind rose through out the house, knocking down St. John’s Wort garlands and crystals.
Fear hit Harper like icy water. He ran down stairs. Churchill was barking frantically, the doors were wide open and malevolent whispers sang in his ears. His heart was in his throat when he saw that both Atwater and Miranda were missing. The wind suddenly died down along with the whispers.
“What happened?” Mrs. Everette ran down stairs.
“Miranda!” he called out.
He grabbed an iron poker then sprinted towards the woods.
“Harper, wait!” Mrs. Everette called out but Harper was too far to hear her as if he would if he could.
Harper ran into the dark forest, rays of daylight streaming through the trees. He looked around his chest tightened with fear. The morning mist stayed to carpet the ground. It grew thicker as he went deeper into the forest. Harper began to hear the whispers again. They made his blood turn cold but anger rose in his stomach. He was ready for them.
Suddenly Harper heard it. He heard the low animal growl of the beast. This time Harper could see him. The creature was as big as a pony like some prehistoric saber tooth lion with black fur. It eyed him shortly then lunged forward. Harper was ready though.
Once he can see something he was less afraid. The iron poker pierced the creature’s shoulder. It cried out as Harper watched the iron burn as well as cut the beast. Dark blood dripped from the animal’s wound. It’s hot foul breath made Harper want to puke. But he swallowed the bile and twisted the rod. The black cat beast cried out in agent, a twisted scream that cut Harper to the bone.
Harper shoved the beast off him. His weapon now lodged in the creature’s shoulder. It was limping but still ready to fight and now he had no weapon. Then Harper heard a horn. Silence. The creature limped into the mist then disappeared.
Without thinking Harper ran into the mist but it dissolved in the sunlight.
“No no no!” Harper cried out. “MIRANDA!” But no answer came. Only the morning birds were singing and Harper felt only the stone of defeat sinking in his stomach.
***
Harper came back to the house to find Mrs. Everette with Miranda’s real friends Rick Atwater and Hayley Bennett. It must have been Oberon disguised as Rick Atwater and Harper let him in. He was disgusted with himself. How could he not see it?
Harper was bitter for a time. Months passed but the gaping hole in his chest still hurt him. Until he received a message…
Harper was home. Churchill was resting by the fireplace while Harper was reading “The Tempest”. A knock came at the door. Ever since Miranda, Harper had some apprehension at answering doors. Only Mrs. Everette was allowed in.
He opened the door to find no one there… No but a wriggling, crying bundle in a wicker basket. It was wrapped in a silver cloak. It wriggled and made gurgling noises. Attached to the cloak was a note. Harper took the baby and the note inside. Churchill inspected the basket, wagging his tail. The baby grabbed his nose then giggled when Churchill licked it’s little pink hand. The note read:
Dear Artemus,
I’m so sorry I left you and Mrs. Everette like that. I was a coward. I didn’t want to be alone in this new world where everyone I know has moved on without me. New starts have always made me uneasy. But those days with you were my happiest. They gave me a gift that I will always cherish that I now give to you. Our daughter…
You were wrong. While there’s a cynic in you there also lies a kindness that I found rare. You care so much it hurts you. That’s why I know you’ll take care of our daughter. And also the cloak attached to her will protect her. Just some extra security. It will keep her out of Oberon’s clutches. I know you’ll love her for the both of us. You’re all she has. I love you.
Miranda Hermia Love
P.S. I thought of name for her: Athena Cressida Harper.
Harper looked in on the ball of innocence left on his door step. How many fairy tales had abandoned babies from foreign lands of strange origins been left on door steps? He placed his finger in the basket which Athena grabbed. She had a strong grip. Harper’s heart awoke after a year of sleep. Her bright blue eyes watched him happily but there was also some curiosity there. On her head was a crown of black hair. Raven hair just like her mother.
“Well…,” Harper felt tears come to his eyes. “So this is what it feels like to be struck by a thunder bolt.”
Harper sold the house moving into the town of Cornwall, a house by the water. Far from the clutches of the forest. There he raised his daughter watching her grow into a woman laughing and playing, the wind in her dark hair and blue eyes full of fire.
Harper still dreamed of Miranda. She came to him. They would talk then make love. Sometimes he saved her other times she was swallowed by darkness. But then he’s see Athena and feel some sense of victory. Oberon will never get Athena. Never.
***
