The Fenrir Saga - Part I

Chapter 31

Ben

The closer we came to the Gathering, the fewer hours each day seemed to have. I was buried in phone calls, schedules, and construction agreements; I couldn't afford a single minute's distraction. And yet, I found myself pausing at the top of the stairs to gaze through the window toward the lake. The serenity of the water on such a calm, sunny day was a rare gift. For a fleeting moment, I felt that perhaps this day wouldn't be so bad after all.

Then the mind-links started up again, pulling at my consciousness like a persistent itch, and I made my way downstairs.

I was mid-sentence, reading yet another tedious suggestion from the party committee, when I suddenly found myself face-to-face with a blonde woman in the lobby. She looked confused, and honestly, I was just as confused to see her there. Most of our visitors these days were men. Come to think of it, all of them were.

But she was something else entirely.

I felt... something. A neuron somewhere fired off a signal I couldn't interpret. Maybe it was the dinner from last night—it had tasted a bit off. My body felt... yes, that was the word. It felt. Neurotransmitters surged toward synapses that had lain dormant for years. I took a deep breath, and while my unfortunate brain registered a lack of the usual alluring molecules I expected from a mate, the rest of me was suddenly on high alert. Focus, Ben.

She waved as a way of greeting. It was... odd, but somehow undeniably charming. I glanced around, trying to locate whoever was supposed to be expecting her, feeling a prickle of annoyance that she had been left standing there alone. After all, the gate security should have mind-linked her contact the moment she passed.

She proceeded to introduce herself, but I was too busy studying her face to actually pay attention. She looked oddly familiar. Did she say Hild?

"Oh. You are Hild? I'm...," I trailed off. Right. What was the name I'd used on the phone? I couldn't for the life of me remember. I stalled, the silence stretching uncomfortably. "Uhm... welcome to the Prospect?"

I frowned, hoping she wouldn't pick up on that slight delay. She did, of course, and she laughed.

"You sure?"

Her blue eyes glistened and her laugh was contagious. I found myself smiling back, ignoring the neurons sending even more frantic signals. I really shouldn't have gone back for that second serving of dinner.

Suddenly, her face fell. She grabbed the wall, clearly unwell. Panic flared in my chest—fainting women were not exactly my area of expertise. I helped her toward a chair but realized the leather armchairs behind the stairs would be much more comfortable. I quickly mind-linked for someone to bring water and... cookies? I felt a sudden pang of sympathy for Zac; he had dealt with a similar situation not too long ago.

When the water arrived, I poured a glass for her and one for myself. I gulped mine down, trying to regain control over my weirdly acting body.

"This is a beautiful place," she murmured. She sounded like she had expected something else entirely.

"You sound surprised," I replied. The constant buzzing of mind-links was starting to grate on my nerves. Just give me a break, alright?

"Well, I would have thought it to be a little rougher around the edges, and I don't know... torture chambers in the basement, or something."

Heh.

I felt a ghost of a smirk. "Who says we don't have those?"

They were actually in a completely different building, but she didn't need to know that.