Riley

 

As I near the giant oak before the last bend, a round of robins rises from the tree and circles the crown. Magic is in the air… It always is when the robins fly in circles. And the magic they’re announcing waits just around the corner. Jack.

The wolf part of him makes him a special character here in Fairyland. We have all kinds of magical creatures: mermaids, witches, fairies, and elves. Farther in the East, there’s a vampire who hides in a castle during the daytime, and several shapeshifters hang out in the surrounding forests, too. I might stand out from the crowd with my shiny, red cloak, but other than that, I’m nothing special. Not like him. I couldn’t turn into a freaking mouse if my life depended on it.

But Jack is really good at what he does. He can shift shapes back and forth as often he wants. The huge, autumn-colored wolf with snow and sand streaks marking his fur is quite a sight. Even though he’s not allowed to eat me in our story, I like to keep my distance from him. One can never know when a wild animal will suddenly snap and start seeing you as a fine knuckle of pork.

I clasp the basket for Granny a little tighter in front of my belly and bravely lift my chin as I take the last few steps that bring me in sight of the big, bad Wolf. Even though I know exactly what to expect, a tiny shiver of fear zips through my body as our gazes lock for the first time in this new rendition of our story.

Big? Yeah. Jack is a head taller than me.

Bad? Oh, yes! You don’t need to know him personally to perceive the danger he breaths out.

Wolf? Not yet. And still, my steps falter.

“Good afternoon, little Miss Red Riding Hood,” he purrs, tilting his head just slightly.

His dark eyes sparkle sinisterly in the beams of light sifting through the trees. The corners of his mouth lift. For the briefest second, I don’t know whether to smile back or run away. He always triggers this strange reaction in me, in spite of me having this tale down pat. It’s like a reflex I can’t turn off, not even after so many years. But it’s gone the moment I remember why I’m here. Second play today. And I’m still mad at him.

Three steps separate us. Normally, I’d stop by him so he can try to lure me to the dark parts of the forest. Not that he’s ever had any luck before. Today, I don’t care for our routine little chat. I want this tale over and done with. Fast. Harry Potter is waiting for me in my cozy hut.

Jaw set and lips pressed together, I pull up my hood and stalk past him, continuing on the path to Granny’s house. He can hang there and wait for the White Rabbit to have a chat with him for all I care.

Jack laughs out behind me. “Riley! Come back!”

“No.”

“Please…”

Oh, dang it. I hate when he sounds like a poor puppy because he plays it so well. But he won’t stop me. Not this time. “You can bi—” A startled gasp escapes me. Suddenly, I’m whirled around, and the basket slips from my hand, tumbling to the mossy ground.

My back hits a tree trunk, and Jack presses his body flush to mine. I can feel his breath inside my hood as he snarls into my ear, “Say it, and I’ll do it.”

Goodness, telling a wolf to bite you is so not a smart idea. What was I thinking?

In memory of this morning’s encounter with his teeth, I rub the side of my butt, which he doesn’t miss. His gaze drops to my hip and then moves back up to my face. “Still hurting?” he murmurs through a salacious smirk and lets his hand slide down to my side.

What the freak? This is not how our play should run. Angry, I push at his chest. “Get off me and go find yourself a squirrel to play with. I don’t want to talk to you.”

He lets me move him, but not too far. Only a few inches back. At the same time, his right arm shoots out, and he braces his hand next to my head on the tree, blocking my escape. “You know it’s not working like this.” His other hand moves up to my face, and he softly strokes his knuckles across my cheek. Then he carefully brushes back my hood and dips his forehead to mine, capturing my eyes with his. “So, be a nice girl, and let’s have some fun.”

Chills rush through me as I draw in a breath. In all our time, Jack has never touched me like this. It feels…strange. Not uncomfortable. He’s never looked at me like this either, and oddly enough, it’s hard to look away. What in the world is up with him?

“Jack…” I whisper. And suddenly, I notice the sharp smell on his breath. My brows furrow, my voice immediately gaining strength again. “Are you drunk?”

He leans in to my ear, his dark stubble rubbing gently against my skin. “Just a little bit,” he murmurs quietly and nips my earlobe. The sharp sting coaxes a tiny squeak from me, which makes him chuckle. “So, will you come into the shadows with me now?”

Jack Wolf has never once come to work drunk.

I don’t know what he goes off and does after we finish our tale each time, but he takes his job seriously. He’s always at the meeting point when I arrive. He usually makes it easy for me to escape his ensnarement at the beginning. And he never hesitates to swallow Granny, even though I know how scared he is of the moment when the Huntsman comes to free her.

Sure, neither of us imagined we’d be meeting a second time here today, and what he does in his spare time is none of my business, but it’s weird to get a glimpse of his private life for once. I wonder what he had to drink. Does he prefer vodka? Whiskey? Beer? I don’t drink at all so I wouldn’t know the difference. It must have been more than one glass, though. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be behaving so strangely.

A very tempting thought crosses my mind. Since we’re already wandering off the lines of the tale, why not go a little further? What if we…say…slightly alter the plot?

Whatever answer Jack expected from me to continue our usual story—and what was certainly on my tongue a moment ago—is gone now. My stunned expression fades as determination rises within me. I close my half-parted mouth, my heart beating a reckless rhythm. Then I bite my lip and dare a deep look into Jack’s dark and dangerous eyes. “Okay…”

He blinks. Slowly. “What?”

My gaze doesn’t waver, and it probably takes on an excited and hopeful note as a small smile creeps across my face. “Okay… I’ll come into the shadows with you.”

Jack takes a step back and fixes me with narrowed eyes. “Are you crazy?”

His reaction hurts me after ten thousand first encounters where he always wanted to seduce me off the right path. A pout replaces my adventurous grin. “No. I’m just tired of playing this stupid tale over and over again. Aren’t you? Always going the same way, always facing a bloody end? And never getting kissed in all this time.”

Now his forehead creases even more. “You want to get kissed?”

“Well…yeah.” I cross my arms over my chest. “All my friends have love stories to play. They’re happy and totally romanced-up…ish. Sort of.” Resolutely, I lift my chin. “I want that, too.”

Jack’s usually determined face scrunches up further as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “And you want that with me?” His gaze sweeps past me into the trees and back. “Over there, in the shadows?”

“No, silly!” I roll my eyes. “Of course, not.”

“Of course, not,” he repeats my words on a growl as if I hurt his feelings beyond repair. Playing all these years has certainly turned him into a devilishly good actor.

“For your information,” I tell him solemnly with my head held high, “I want to catch myself a prince.”

And that cracks him up. “You want what?” he barks in laughter, tucking his hands into his jeans’ pockets.

I throw him a pissy glare and snarl, “Yeah, get a grip, puppy dog.” Should I have seen this fit coming? Probably. Still, it won’t hold me back. I’ve made up my mind, and we’re going to get through this, whether or not he finds the idea ridiculous.

I stride to the bush where my basket rolled earlier when he grabbed me and put the fallen bottle of wine back inside. Jack still stands in the middle of the path, staring at me as if I’d turned into a three-headed dragon. I walk past him, in the opposite direction of Granny’s house, expecting him to follow me. He doesn’t.

“Are you coming or not?” I snap over my shoulder.

A moment ticks by before he moves and catches up with me. His voice still holds a thread of doubt. “Where to?”

“For starters, to the dark parts of the woods. Where are they?”

“I don’t know.”

I stop and whirl around to him. “You don’t know?!” Outraged, I throw my hands with the basket in the air. “You’ve been trying to lure me there for ages. Where did you think we’d go if I finally said yes?”

“I knew you wouldn’t, so there wasn’t a need to think about it.” His eyes are dark again and drained of all amusement. His voice heats up, though, just like mine.

“You’re a wolf. Don’t you eternally roam this place, sniffing rabbit tracks and marking trees? You should know the forest like the back of your hand.”

“I live in an apartment above Geppetto’s workshop in the village,” he growls at me from the side. “I only come here to play with you.”

“Just great.” Chuffing, I stride on, picking the path to the Plush Toy Forest for now. At least there’s something that might help me find what I want.

Jack reads the sign pointing out the direction, and his temper eases to curiosity again. “You want to visit the three bears?”

“No. I don’t think they’ll be much help.” Pulling up my hood, I cast him a contemplative, sideways glance from under the red fabric and grin again because my idea is genius. “Cupid’s tree is there, too.”

Everyone knows about the specialty of that tree, but from the way Jack bites the inside of his cheek, he doesn’t seem to have any idea what we’ll do there. Good. He’d probably try to stop me if he knew.

At the sound of running water ahead, a queasy feeling grips me. Flowing backward from the sea to its well in the Marble Mountains, the Timeless Brook cuts a swath through the Wood of 1000 Dawns, separating all stories into sections of sorts. Our path continues over a little, wooden bridge. As we near it, hesitation creeps into Jack’s pace. I know what’s holding him back—I can feel the tug of our story, too. It wants us to turn back and continue what we’re meant to do. Even the basket in my hand starts trembling, pulling at my arm as if it wants to shout that Granny’s house is in the opposite direction.

I grip the handle tighter and stop in front of the bridge, daring a glance up at Jack’s face. He’s silently staring at the border between the bridge and land. “Are you afraid?” I whisper, not knowing if the question is really for him or myself. What will happen if we really cross that stream? No one has ever dared to break out of their tale before. At least none who ever came back to tell the story.

Jack’s eyes move to my side, but the rest of him remains motionless. There’s a hint of wariness in his gaze. “And you?”

I swallow. Hell, yes, I am. But if I don’t do this now, I’ll never get my happily ever after. So I draw in a deep breath, bravely holding his stare, and then straighten my back. “No.” And with that one little word, I take a step forward and walk onto the bridge.

It supports me, not breaking from shock and dumping me into the river with a splash. Phew. For a second there, I really wasn’t sure. But with my next step, the basket slips out of my hand, shooting off. “What the—” As I spin around, I find that it zoomed right into Jack’s arms. A low, whiny sound emerges from it.

“You made it cry,” Jack says, faking a scrunched, sympathetic face, cuddling the basket to his chest as if it was a baby wolf. “I’m sure it wants to fly off to your grandma’s house. It’s scared of running away.”

With a snort, I stride back to him and rip the thing out of his arms. “It’s only a basket! Don’t whack out here.” I pull off the doily and hold out a piece of the cake I put in there before I left home. “See? Just normal food and wine.” To prove my point, I take a bite. Next thing I know, the sky above the treetops rapidly darkens with clouds, and thunder rolls in from all sides.

Holy pot of gold at the end of the rainbow!

“Riley?”

My gaze snaps from the upset sky to an even more upset Jack.

“You better put that cake back into the basket and bring it to your granny.”

I hesitate. “If I do that, we’ll have the same stupid conversations every freaking day from now until forever.” More determination enters my voice. “And I’ll never find romance.”

His insistent gaze pleads with me. “There are worse things.”

“Really? You don’t mind getting your belly cut open by the Huntsman each time at the end of our story?”

He waits a beat to answer, but his severe expression doesn’t falter. “I’m used to it. I can bear it.”

“Yeah? Because I can’t,” I snap at him. “I want more from my life.”

Jack holds out his hand. “Give it to me.”

“No.” I back a step away from him.

His eyes get so dark I think I can see the night sky in them as he yells, “Give me that damn cake, Riley!”

His demand is so compelling, he almost drags me toward him with invisible cords. But I cannot do that. We’ve gone too far to turn around now. This is my chance. Our chance. So with a determined glare, I stuff the entire piece of cake into my mouth, filling my cheeks until I can’t even chew the darn thing.

At the increasing rumbles of thunder, Jack drops to a squat in a wild panic and throws his arms over his head. Thankfully, no lightning shoots down on us. Hah! Is that all they have in store? The basket still in one hand, I spread my arms and lift my head to the sky. Crumbs of cake spew out of my mouth as I yell, “Now what? I’m not going back, so what will you do, huh?”

Almost choking on the dry clump in my mouth, I salivate it to mush until I can finally swallow. Boy, that thing went down hard. I pat my chest, coughing up a few remaining crumbs. When the coughing fit is over, so is the thunder. I only notice because Jack is kneeling in a beam of sunlight again instead of cloudy shadows. He dares a glance upward before he straightens back to his full, imposing height.

“See?” I say confidently and cast him a triumphant smile. “That wasn’t the end of the world.” Another bout of crumbs tickles my throat, so I reach into the basket and take out the wine. With my teeth, I pull out the cork and spit it over the bridge railing, into the water. But before the first drop of wine can touch my tongue, Jack rushes forward and yanks the bottle out of my hand.

“No, don’t!” he shouts, holding the liquor away from me. “You’ve never been drinking before, have you?”

“No…” My brows fall into a V because I don’t see his point. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to do”—he furiously waves his arms around him—“whatever we’re setting out to do here, drunk.” Then he rakes a desperate hand through his messy, multihued hair. I bet if he could, he’d turn tail and run off home now. But how would that look coming from the big, bad Wolf? Chickening out when a mere, weak girl is holding her ground? He looks first at me and then at the bottle. In the end, he takes a deep draught from it. I don’t know if he does it to calm himself or if he’s just trying to eliminate the stuff so I don’t get any. But when his gaze falls to the empty basket in my hand, he releases a helpless sigh.

A hint of surrender appears in his eyes as they find mine. Then he throws the bottle off the bridge and into the water. It bobs up and down as the stream carries it away.

For an infinite moment, we both just stand there on the wooden bridge and look at each other. Then we turn to the other shore where the Plush Toy Forest stretches out before us.

“You’ll get us in trouble,” Jack says, finally capitulating to my plan.

I offer him a bright smile. “And you’re scared of trouble since when?”

Mischief gleams in his eyes as the left side of his mouth tilts up, and he snorts. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist a provocation like this. Filled with a wave of excitement, I toss the basket after the bottle, grab Jack’s hand, and pull him along with me into a whole new adventure.