CHAPTER SEVEN
As it turned out, the yeti tasted a lot like lambchops.
She found she was a lot more comfortable with it once the thing looked more like a pile of bones and less like a body. It wasn't half bad either, she thought as she finished a pretty nice tenderloin. Whatever Eric was capable of, he cut a nice steak.
They both ate in relative silence, and when they'd had their fill, he did a nifty bit of magic that seemed to flash freeze what was left. He put half of it in a side bag and tossed the rest outside for the scavengers. The corpse followed suit.
Now there didn't seem much to do except... sit.
She drew her legs up to her chest within the sleeping bag; she'd slapped on a pair of borrowed thermal underwear that was much too big for her, but she'd rolled up the sleeves and legs and it was serving well enough. The sleeping bag did the rest.
"Is this thing enchanted somehow?" she asked, more to break the silence.
He was writing something in a notebook.
"No. Bought it from a sporting good's store a few years ago, top of the line sunzero proof," he answered.
She fingered the material and marveled anew at it.
"Wow... I have to look into that sometime, this is amazing," she muttered loud enough to be heard. She wondered what it cost, and then sighed, reveling in the warmth.
"So what brought you all the way to the Tri-State area from northeastern New England?" he asked.
She ran a hand through her hair for no reason at all and winced.
"It's a long story...," she said finally.
He waved a hand around at the ice cave they were in. The fire wasn't melting it for some reason.
"We have all the time until we sleep," he reminded her.
She may as well.
"You've gotta understand, my life is kinda numb. I've never been able to keep a job longer than six months at a time. Various reasons, and the economy sucks. As of right now, still jobless, actually. I used the money from a tax refund to come out here. Nearly out of that, too," she began. "This is the most excitement and purpose I've had in... years," she gave him a weak smile.
He nodded, just watching her. His icy blue-silver eyes twinkled slightly in the firelight.
"I know, sad...," she sighed. "I'm 27. Been living at home for ten years, it's pathetic," she added.
"Not at all... but for what it is worth, I'm happy to be the reason you're having a good time." he smiled. She knew the Fae couldn't lie and it was this that made her believe him. She had... trust issues.
"So you used a tax refund to come out here to-?" he urged her go on.
"I met someone a year ago... another were. Polar bear. It was kind of perfect at the time, y'know? I've never had the best luck with guys, even though I've never had much trouble... you know, attracting them. Aaron wasn't an exception. Not long after we got together, he got creepy. Stalkey. Really posessive. I broke it off and it got worse. He went from creepy to scary. It was like he was finding me wherever I went and I talked to my parents. They suggested I get out of the house, take a trip, stay with friends... anywhere. I think they wanted a break from me too, to be honest. So I borrowed the car and picked a place on a map with my eyes shut. Wound up here," she shrugged.
He was listening to her while he tended the flames but he didn't speak out of what she hoped was respect. She took a moment and went on.
"Her car... well, you saw it. Chances are you could smell it. That car saw better days before we got it from some guy for three hundred bucks. I brought it into a VW garage because it was the first garage I saw and I didn't want to just drive aimlessly in hopes of finding a different one, so I stopped. And he found me again," she sighed.
"He found you at that same garage?" he asked suddenly.
She nodded.
"I have no idea how. I've blocked all his calls, I never turn the GPS on my phone on and we have no friends in common. To my knowledge he doesn't have a car, but there he was. Throwing the one called Zee around like a ragdoll," she huffed.
Eric gave her a look. She couldn't read it very well.
"Zee? Siebold? Fae who works with the shapeshfiter called Mercy Thompson?" he asked sharply.
She blinked. It wasn't a reaction she'd been expecting.
"...Yes. He had this black sword, looked pretty nasty, and it sliced him up pretty good but he just kept on coming... threw him around pretty good," she nodded.
"...Zee is very old, and very unique. There was once a time when many were afraid of him. He was sometimes called the Dark Smith. He is what is known as iron-kissed. He is a Fae who can work with and manipulate iron and steel, any metal really. He's calmed down over the last century or so but there are still plenty who would treat him with caution on a dark road. If you say your ex boyfriend was throwing him like a ragdoll, then I would suspect he was more than just werebear," he said darkly.
That was a terrifying thought.
"This is a guy who once threatened to kill me if he saw me dating anyone else. I gave my gay friend a hug and he want ballistic. I don't know how he keeps finding me," she folded her arms with a huff. "I have... emotional issues. Mood disorder. Throw in trust issues and ugh, I'm rambling," she covered her face with her hands.
"On the contrary, I don't mind at all. Feel safer in knowing he couldn't possibly follow us into Underhill," he smiled.
"Heh, yeah well there's that unless he's part Fae," she snorted. "Which I doubt. Bastard lied like a junkie," she grumped.
"Well, not all part-Fae are bound by truth...," he said.
"So... what, you CAN'T lie, or you're not ALLOWED to by some reason?" she asked.
He only gave her that enigmatic smile.
"Right. Guess there's still some stuff you can't say. Well, YOU can't lie, that's something. Ha!" she suddenly got a thought. "So if someone asked 'does this make my butt look big'...," she snickered.
He rolled his eyes but he was smiling too.
"I've gotten that joke before, yes. Even had it asked of me, once. She took my silence for confirmation and threw a shoe at me," he grinned.
The mental image that brought up made her laugh.
"You all seem so... stoic and wise, magical and ancient. Special. It's hard to imagine any of you doing something so mortal as dating," she smirked.
"Well, we do. Sometimes. Dating humans is encourage because you all breed so much faster than we do. I haven't indulged in a couple of years. Hearing your story, I'm glad for it," he teased.
"Oh, har har. Tell me, does this sleeping bag make me look fat?" she shot back with a grin. She gave a little wiggle that made the nylon of the sleeping bag sashay against itself with a shushing sound. He smirked at her.
"No. It makes you look like a child snuggled up in her parent's sleeping bag," he smiled.
"You're not my father".
"I certainly hope not. I'm childless, as far as I'm aware," he turned away and sipped something from a chipped coffee mug he'd brought. She had a similar one. They were full of some rich dark chocolate drink. It was delicious.
"So what about you? I know you guys are so secretive and all that, but what's your story?" she asked. "Don't have to tell me everything if it suits you better".
He layed down in his sleeping bag, about three or four feet away from her, and layed on his side so he faced her. The sleeping bags had sort of built in pillows attached to the bottommost layer. It seemed he was thinking.
"My story is long and complicated, bloody and cold. I list myself as an ice elf with mortal authorities. Truth is, I have an... affinity for cold. I like it. I channel it. There was once a time I ...," he paused here. "Have you heard of something called the Wild Hunt?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"I'll spare you most of the details. There are some things I... shouldn't speak of. Sometimes when you speak of things, those things hear you and it makes them more influential. But I used to ... participate, using a pack of werewolves I held under my "influence". It isn't something those who know of me have likely forgotten about," he smiled sadly.
"Werewolves can hold grudges," she said bleakly. She layed on her side to face him, reminded oddly of a slumber party she had when she was younger where all they did was talk.
"You're not wrong," he chuckled. His mustache twitched. None of his facial hair was very bushy.
"It's been a long long time since those days past. For the last decade or so I've been presenting myself as a blue collar worker in the real world. Computer maintennance," he smiled. "Despite all the metal involved I do so love the many ways you people have come up with for entertainment," he smiled.
"I know. I've beaten Vampire the Masquerade twice and Skyrim's one of my favorites on Steam," she grinned.
"... I have no idea what either of those are. Games?" he asked.
She nodded.
"I spend most of my time on the computer...," she sighed.
"So werewolf pack. What happened to them all?" she asked.
His expression grew cloudy.
"Hunting can be dangerous," was all he said. That was enough said.
"Well now you have a snow leapord," she smiled.
"Don't," he said suddenly.
She looked at him puzzled.
"Don't... what?" she asked.
"Don't put yourself in the same position as those wolves. You're here to repay a favor owed, not a thrall. You're not a pet," he growled. "You forget I am Fae. I'm not a friend and I'm often not a nice man. Don't understep the boundaries,".
She was slightly taken aback by the sudden subdued outburst. Part of her was a little bit hurt, yes, but most of her wasn't surprised. She had a low enough self esteem that she usually expected to be rebuffed. Well, she'd been rebuffed.
"Sorry," she said meekly.
He was quiet for a moment, watching her, then the fire, then back to her.
"...As am I. It has been years since I traveled with anyone, and those... were days I am not now proud of," he said a bit softer.
She sighed and stretched beneath the sleeping bag.
"Well it's nice to know you're not a friend. For the record, I suck at reading social cues," she sighed, and thinking well there, that's the last word, she rolled herself over and shut her eyes. She could feel him staring at her back, though.
