Brown Mountain Lights

Skinwalkers, Roadtrips, and Oblivious Men

I woke up slowly, as I always did. I stretched my arms out, only to be stopped cold by the metal around my wrist. Abruptly, I remembered that I had been handcuffed to a bed by two weirdos because they wanted to make sure I didn't get away before they had gotten the information they needed.

I sat bolt upright, jerking my arm behind me and sending waves of pain through my neck, and met the smirking green eyes of Dean, who was sitting in a chair cleaning a – was that a handgun? Lovely. Armed weirdos.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," he grinned, setting the gun down on the table. I looked around for his friend, but saw nothing but an empty room.

"My brother's in the shower and I call dibs next," he continued, "so you'll have to wait a while if you want one." I blinked. Okay, not his friend, his brother. Then he leered, "Unless you want to join me..."

I rolled my eyes. Did this man flirt with everything female on two legs? I knew I wasn't particularly attractive. I carried about 30 pounds more than my frame was meant to and I looked about sixteen; I wore oversized cardigans to try to make myself look older, but mostly just managed to make myself look rounder. I wore glasses instead of contacts, I never wore makeup, and my hair spent most of its time in a bun on top of my head. Speaking of my hair – I reached up with my free hand and groaned. It was my best feature, a beautiful shade of auburn that was impossible to get in a salon. Unfortunately, it was also fine and curly, and since I'd gone to sleep without brushing it last night, the knots were going to be impossible to get out. Great, let's add insult to injury.

I sighed. "Will you take me home now that it's light? If I'm going to be staying with y'all, I need clothes and a toothbrush and all that mess. I'd also like to set up Bitty's auto-feeder, since apparently I'm not going to be allowed to come and go at my leisure."

Dean snorted and shook his head. "'Come and go at my leisure.' God, between you and Sammy, you sound like professors."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Dean, I am a professor. I may work in the library, but I teach one class a semester, usually on Native American folklore...Oh, hell. Guess I can't go to work, either."

"Good guess, sweetheart," Dean said.

"It's my day off, so I haven't already lost my job by not showing up. Can I at least make a call? I'd like to be able to go back to my job, when you're done with me."

He looked briefly ashamed, then handed me a disposable cell. "Sure."

I called the head librarian and explained that I had had a family emergency and was going to be out for a while, probably about a week – I looked up at Dean when I said that, and he nodded – and I was so sorry. She was very understanding and told me to take as much time as I needed, that they would be thinking about me while I was gone.

I hung up the phone and looked at it dismally. Sam had come out of the bathroom (wearing another plaid shirt) while I was making my excuses to my boss, and was looking at me worriedly.

"Kat, are you okay?" He stopped, stuttered briefly then said "Well, I mean, I know you're not okay, but - "

"I get what you're saying, Sam," I said gently. I did kind of feel bad for him, since it was pretty clear he really didn't want to be doing this to me. "I just really hate having to lie to Diane. She's a great boss and a big part of the reason I love my job."

"Wouldn't that be nice," Dean muttered. "A nice normal job, with a nice, normal boss. No demons, no witches, no ghosts, no monsters..."

I was beginning to see that if we were all going to survive this little enterprise, I was going to have to ignore most of what came out of Dean's mouth.