Fantasyland 03 Fantastical (30 page)

I tensed, thinking he was going to try to
start something, maybe kiss me.

But he didn’t, he pressed his jaw to the
side of my head and his hips started swaying, his hands at the
small of my back moving me with him.

Holy crap, he was dancing with me in my
living room.

I didn’t even wait a second before I closed
my eyes and moved, telling myself, just this moment, just this
time, just this five minutes with Tor and The Dave Matthews Band
and a freaking fantastic song.

Just these five minutes.

So I bent my neck and rested my forehead to
his shoulder. He took my hand, laced our fingers together, held
them to his chest, his other hand pushing into the small of my
back, fitting my hips snug to his. I slid my other arm around his
shoulders and turned my head so my forehead was against his neck.
At this, he bent his neck and rested his lips against mine.

And we swayed. Even when the tempo of the
song increased, Tor kept our movements slow, fluid and in my
little, colorful living room, the rain beating outside, the day
gray, the streets grimy, with the help of The Dave Matthews Band,
Tor created magic. I felt it with every strum of the guitars, every
longing word, every sway of our hips, the hardness of Tor’s body
pressed to mine, the warmth of his hand at the small of my back,
his strong fingers holding mine tight.

It was the most astonishingly beautiful
moment in my life, unbearably sexy, and even though I’d spent
nearly two months in a glittering fairytale world, in that moment’s
enchanting simplicity, it was by far and away the most magical.

And when the song faded away, I didn’t want
it to end. I wanted to snatch the notes back. I didn’t want five
minutes, I wanted ten, I wanted an hour.

I wanted a lifetime.

Tor’s hips stopped moving and his hand
pressed mine flat to his chest before it came to my chin, lifted my
face up to his and I could see, clear in his eyes, he’d felt
everything I’d felt and that exquisite pain I felt last night again
slashed through me.

Then he declared quietly, “The man who wrote
the words in that song has given half his soul to his woman. There
is destiny you cannot control but this man, he found the woman who
completed him and he gave his soul at his liberty.”

And he said this like he knew it from
experience.

And he said it looking at me.

Then he bent his head and touched his lips
tenderly to each of my eyes in turn, both of them closing and
staying closed even after he let me go and I heard his boots beat
on my floors and then I heard the electric razor coming through the
bedroom from the bathroom.

I realized my chest was rising and falling
deeply, my eyes slowly opened and I stared at my wall as I allowed
myself one more thing.

I allowed myself to feel that exquisite pain
at the same time the shadow of the touch of Tor’s lips on my eyes
lingered.

Then I went to my bathroom to share the
basin with Tor as I fixed my makeup and decided not to share with
him that “Crash into Me” had hints of voyeurism at the same time I
decided, forever and always, that song would mean to me exactly
what it meant to Tor.

* * * * *

And now we were in my car, heading to my
parents’ house and I was, again, freaking out.

And I was tired of freaking out.

So damned tired of it.

Tor’s hand came to mine and his fingers
laced through while he noted softly, “I like this transport.” I
turned to look at him and watched him lift my hand and brush his
lips against my knuckles.

Damn. There it was, that exquisite pain was
back.

He dropped our hands to his thigh and
without taking his eyes from the road, he continued, “But I prefer
Salem. In your car, you’re too far away.” My breath caught. “On
Salem, you’re right where you’re supposed to be.”

I closed my eyes, looked away then sighed
deeply.

I wished he’d quit saying (and doing) things
like that at the same time I wished he’d never stop.

Damn.

My folks’ house came into sight and I
whispered to Tor, pointing with my hand not held in his, “It’s that
one, right there. You can park in front.”

With ease, Tor guided my car to the
curb.

I stared out the window at my parents’
house, trying to force myself toward calm.

I felt Tor squeeze my fingers and my head
swung to him.

“It’ll be all right, my love,” he assured me
quietly.

“Right,” I whispered, not believing him.

His hand brought mine to his chest as his
other hand came out, hooked me around the neck and pulled me to
him.

“If it isn’t, I’ll make it so,” he declared.
“That’s a vow.”

I held my breath. Tor smiled at me.

And, damn and blast, looking at his smile
and the ease behind his eyes, I found calm.

Meeting the Parents

“You
what?
” my father shouted at me
then his eyes sliced to Tor, his fists hit the table, he shot out
of his chair and bellowed, “Get away from my daughter!”

I closed my eyes tight.

Let’s just say that dinner was
not
going well.

It had started okay.

Sure, Mom and Dad had been a little overawed
in an obvious way when they first laid eyes on Tor. For one, he was
a lot taller than any of my other boyfriends (a lot). For two, he
was also a lot more powerfully built (a lot). And three, he was a
lot scarier-looking (a lot).

Tor was hot but that didn’t mean he looked
like a guy you messed with. All of my boyfriends were relatively
good-looking but they were also laidback, easygoing and fun-loving.
Tor looked like what he was. A warrior dressed in jeans, boots and
a nice shirt.

His scar, no matter how sexy, obviously
helped.

But my parents seemed game and were
themselves, friendly and charming.

Things disintegrated when Tor was, well,
Tor
. He was touchy, very much so. He was also attentive,
very much so. And he was possessive, clearly so. I couldn’t really
explain how he demonstrated the last, he just did. And Mom and Dad
caught it. And Mom, who for two decades of my life (to my utter
embarrassment as a teen) didn’t wear a bra and Dad, who read Mom’s
newsletters from the National Organization for Women from cover to
cover (sometimes taking highlighters to it just so Mom, during her
perusal, wouldn’t miss things Dad thought important she note),
didn’t take to it too well.

It didn’t help matters that I was freaked
out, worried, confused and my life was in a turmoil… and it showed.
They noticed and didn’t take to that too well, either.

They started to pry into the last two months
of my life, specifically how I hooked up with Tor, and, wanting to
pick the best time to deliver the news that Tor and I were at the
mercy of unpredictable blue mist magic, my answers were cagey. Tor
took my lead and kept completely silent on the subject. Again, they
didn’t take to that too well.

Conversation became stilted. Mom and Dad
exchanged unhappy glances. Tor was catching my eye, communicating
to me that if I didn’t do something, he would. I didn’t want him to
do anything Tor-like which would likely not go over very well
either so, after eating Mom’s delicious herbed chicken,
cheesy-garlic mashed potatoes and steamed greens but before she
moved us onto dessert, I told them that Tor was from a parallel
universe, the same parallel universe I had been hurled into in my
sleep and resided in the last two months and we were at the whim of
blue mist magic.

“Forrest!” Mom cried when Dad finished
shouting.

“Dad, please sit down and calm down,” I
urged.

“No!” Dad returned to me. “What hold does
this man have over you?” he asked then didn’t allow me to answer
and looked at Tor. “What are you doing to my daughter? Why haven’t
we
seen
or
heard
from her in two months? Why does she
believe
this crazy story? Are you drugging her fruit
juice?”

I didn’t drink fruit juice primarily because
I preferred to chew my calories unless they were alcoholic (not
that I chewed very much fruit, but you get what I’m saying) and my
Dad knew that (not about the calories, just that I didn’t drink
juice). He was being dramatic. He was also being
loud
.

“Pardon?” Tor asked, his tone quiet but also
deadly. He didn’t like my father’s words or the way they were
thrown at him, he was the future king after all, and a prince to
boot and, well,
Tor
and I could see him struggling for
control.

“Drugging her fruit juice?” Dad continued.
“Addling her mind? A parallel universe! That’s insane! Are you in
some kind of cult?”

“Dad!” I exclaimed. “Tor’s not in a
cult!”

My father ignored me.

“What kind of name
is
Tor, anyway?
Were you born with that name?” Dad asked Tor, forgetting, in his
histrionics, that he had for a brief period of time called himself
(and made others call him) Eaglethorn (Mom had taken the name
Jasminevine, luckily they stopped doing this before I was
born).

“No,” Tor replied calmly then announced in
his deep, commanding voice, “I am Prince Noctorno Allegro Hawthorne
of the House of Hawthorne, heir to the Kingdom of Hawkvale and
ruler of Bellebryn. Those close to me, including Cora, call me
Tor.”

Uh-oh.

What he said was true but it was not the
right thing to say. I could see it because my Mom went pale but my
Dad went beet red.

“Prince… Prince… what the hell!” he boomed.
“It’s
you
that’s insane and you’re with my
daughter!
”

“Sir, I am far from insane,” Tor gritted
between his teeth.

“Dad, he’s not insane,” I rushed to put in.
“I know this sounds…” my mind searched for a word, my eyes found
Tor’s and then it came to me, “
fantastical.
” I heard and saw
Tor draw in an annoyed breath and my eyes shot to my father. “But
it’s true.”

“Um, maybe… uh, Tor,” Mom cut in, “I don’t
wish to be rude but considering things are, uh…
intense
and
we haven’t seen Cora in awhile, perhaps you could go so we could
have some time alone with our daughter?”

“I’ll not do that,” Tor replied
immediately.

“And why the hell not?” my father returned
just as immediately.

“Because, sir,” Tor stated slowly, visibly
fighting for control, “as Cora explained to you, we are at the
mercy of magic and I do not want to be far from her should it start
to take her… or me.”

Dad glared at him then he turned his glare
to my mother. “The mercy of magic. This is
insane,
” he
breathed with disgust.

“I would thank you to stop saying that,” Tor
said softly and Dad’s eyes cut back to him then he leaned into him,
hand on the table and everything.

“And
I
would thank
you
to get
up from my table and get the hell out of my house
but
especially
, while you’re doing that, out of my daughter’s
life!
”

Tor’s face turned to stone, he rose out of
his seat, tossing his napkin to the table and I knew it was time to
intervene.

So I shot out of my chair and rushed around
the table to put my hand on my father’s arm.

“Dad, listen to me,” I begged.

He didn’t even look at me, just glowered up
at Tor. “I’m busy, sweetheart. I’m about to escort this
man
out.”

“Dad,” I squeezed his arm, “listen. Please,
listen. It’s true. All of it. I woke up in a parallel universe. A
fairytale land. A fantasyland. Where they ride horses and birds
talk to you and the air shimmers like it has glitter in it. But
there is a me there like there is a Tor here. All the same people
are in both worlds, I reckon, and I was switched with the Cora of
their world.”

Dad slowly swung his head to face me and the
look in his eyes made my heart clench. He genuinely thought I’d
gone around the bend and this thought pained him. So I got closer
and pulled him around to face me, lifting my other hand to take his
other arm.

“I know it sounds crazy, trust me,
I
know.
But it isn’t. I woke up and all the furniture in my room
was wonky, like out of an animated kid’s movie. And it wasn’t
my
room. And then my sister came dancing in and she was so
beautiful, so graceful, it was unreal. Her name was Rosa and…”

I stopped because the minute I said the name
“Rosa” Dad’s body got still under my hands, his eyes shot to my
mother and the air in the room grew heavy.

“Rosa?” my mother whispered and I turned my
head to look at her. “In this parallel universe, you had a sister
named Rosa?”

“Uh… yes,” I replied, looking at my Mom who
was even paler and when I did her eyes moved swiftly to my father
and she put a hand out flat on the table.

“Mom?” I called and released my Dad in order
to go to her because she looked like she was about ready either to
burst into tears or pass out.

“Rosa,” my Mom whispered again when I got to
her, crouched down, her eyes were tipped up to my Dad and I covered
her hand on the table with mine and squeezed. When I did, her head
slowly turned to me. “Rosa was alive in that world?”

Oh. My.
God.

“By the gods,” Tor murmured, I looked to him
to see he was gazing at my mother, his face contemplative but his
body had lost its angry energy.

I looked back to my Mom and whispered, “Is
there something I don’t know?”

Tears trembled in my Mom’s eyes before she
replied, “We had a little girl.” Oh my God. “She died at birth.” Oh
my God! “We named her Rosa.”

I closed my eyes then opened them.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

“I… I couldn’t. I couldn’t talk about it. It
was bad, sweetie. The birth was bad. For me too. After that, I
couldn’t have any more kids. Your Dad and me, we wanted a whole
houseful and we lost that and we lost Rosa and I…”