11. Josh
My heart felt like a giant fist had punched into my chest to squeeze the blood out of me when Annie walked through the door and out of my line of sight.
I shouldn’t have let her go in. In the moment that I realized what she was about to do, I regretted everything I’d said to her in the car about true love. The funny thing was, as I told her everything I’d always believed, I couldn’t help but want to shield her from my own words even as I said them. I wanted to hold her and murmur words of comfort and tell her I was wrong and she was right.
And now she’d put herself in danger, and I knew for certain she’d been right. I’d never felt like this about anyone. The thought of something happening to Annie took away my breath and left me struggling for air.
I raised my hand to pound on the door again, then stopped. If she was visible, I might draw their attention to her.
An eternity passed in the hallway while thunks and crashes and shrill yells and shrieks came from the apartment. What was taking her so long? All she had to do was step through, wait for an opening between projectiles, become visible and solid, then unlock the door.
Impatient, I gave up on waiting and moved to knock again. Annie hadn’t appeared yet, and I was worried for her safety. What if she’d been hit and was lying in there bleeding to death? I’d break down the door if I had to.
I made a fist and swung my arm, landing on nothing as the door swung open. Annie stood in the doorway, her eyes wide and blood dripping down the side of her face from her scalp.
“Oh my gods, Annie.” I stepped inside and closed the door. I reached to touch her head, and she winced before I made contact.
“I’m okay. I got hit with a chunk of a Precious Moments figurine. You have to stop this before they break a hip or something.” Her skin looked pale, almost gray, and her expression was filled with disgust.
I gave her another once-over to be sure she was okay, so relieved to see her mostly unharmed, I wanted to pick her up and carry her to safety. A plate shattering over our heads snapped me out of it.
“I’m going.”
She touched my arm and smiled. “Be careful.”
I turned toward the shouting couple and finally saw what was going on. My jaw dropped in shock.
Mr. Kingston was mostly naked, except for a patch over one eye, a pirate hat, and a belt around his waist, which probably was meant to carry the plastic sword he waved over his head. “There’s no use fighting me, wench! Yer cargo be mine, and I’ll be boarding your ship, me fine beauty!”
I prayed to the gods they’d erase this vision from my memories when this was over.
Mrs. Browning shrieked and threw a vase at Mr. Kingston’s head. She wore a corset, stockings, and silver elbow-length gloves. “You cad! My father is the governor. He shall have you hanged for treating me so!” He reached for her, and she bit him.
My wristband was vibrating off the charts. These two, while apparently having a lot of fun, weren’t in the least bit romantically compatible. Forcing a love spell on two people so far off from each other’s match would, in some rare cases, cause a form of madness.
Mr. Kingston drew back, waving his sword, and grabbed the drapes with one hand as if about to swing across the living room over the glass coffee table, swashbuckler style. Mrs. Browning, having run out of ceramics, was in the kitchen reaching for the knives sticking out of a butcher block.
Both were about to kill someone.
I went for Mr. Kingston first, lunging as he tried to take off. I slid my hand over his sweaty chest, and he went still.
“Good gracious. What’s going on here?” He stood blinking among the wreckage of his living room, not yet aware that he was flashing the room.
“You’ll not be taking my virtue, you devil!” Mrs. Browning let a knife fly through the air. It hit the couch and bounced off.
I hurried toward her and reached for her upraised hand. A second knife went flying before I had a chance to stop her. When I touched her wrist, she went quiet and stared at her empty hand. “What on earth?”
Relieved, I turned to go. If we moved quickly, they might not remember seeing us. Then I could place a call and get a cleaning crew out here to fix the mess and erase the event from their memories. Too bad the gods ignored me and refused to erase it from mine.
“Annie, we did it.” I raced toward the door and found her sitting on the floor. Blood sopped into the carpet beneath her. “Oh, gods.” I knelt beside her. “What happened?”
She gave me a weak smile. “I’m okay. It looks bad, but it’s just my arm. I tried to get out of the way, but I was too slow and caught that last knife. You did a good job, though.” Somewhere she’d acquired a scarf, probably from the coat closet next to the front door. She had it wadded and pressed against her left bicep.
“Let’s get you some help.” I scooped her up and carried her out the door.
“I can walk. I’m fine.” Her voice was quiet, and those big green eyes stared up at me, making my heart beat faster.
“Let me just get you to the car. You probably need stitches with that much blood.”
I walked as quickly as I could while trying not to jostle her. At the car, I set her on her feet so I could open the door for her.
“You were very brave,” she whispered.
For a moment, I thought she was about to kiss me, but then she turned and climbed into the car. I removed her dangling wings and placed them in the back seat.
I climbed in behind the steering wheel and started the car. Before I pulled out of the parking space, I sent a text to the Mt. Olympus Protection Department letting them know what happened, the extent of the damage, and where they needed to go. Their response was immediate. Someone would likely be there within three minutes. We didn’t need to wait.
As we headed toward the abandoned church on the other side of town, Annie reached out her wounded left arm and held my hand.