Xerxes keeps trying to start up conversation with me. I don’t get him. The more I rebuff him, the harder he tries. I end up telling him where I work, and a bit about my current job studying the squirrels, and a few other tidbits.

He seems oddly and intensely interested. It’s pinging alarm bells, despite the fact that a part of me wants to like him. A lot. I don’t think I’m being paranoid. People have never really been interested in me unless they wanted something from me.

It’s probably just that he’s not used to a woman who doesn’t fall all over herself for him. He’s attractive, that’s for sure, in a tall, muscular, sexy firefighter kind of way. If you’re into that sort of thing. Okay, okay, it’s an insanely sexy combination and women probably just fall all over him. It must be driving him nuts that I’m not responding that way.

We do eventually get to the rest of his fire crew, thank God. Right away I notice two other firefighters who come up to him and clap him on the back. One of them is built like a goddamn tank, and has blue eyes like Xerxes, except darker in color. The other one’s a little more Xerxes’ size and has eyes that look—no way—golden?

It’s probably a trick of the light.

The three of them all have that same square jaw and light brown hair, and I realize that these must be Xerxes’ brothers. He’s got two of them, and then two older sisters who are already married. He’s been very eager to tell me all about his family. God knows why.

“Rebecca, these are my younger brothers, Vyn and Malek.”

Odd names, but no odder than Xerxes. I ignore it when Vyn makes an aborted movement to shake my hand. “Can we go now?”

“She’s a prickly one,” Vyn notes, grinning.

Malek just stares at me. I stare right back. He seems surprised by this, but I see respect there.

“Chief?” Xerxes calls. “Permission to take this civilian out of the danger zone?”

“Go ahead,” an older man, apparently the chief, calls back. “Be back ASAP, this blaze is still right on top of us.”

“You got it.” Xerxes starts to herd me into a truck.

I want to ask if someone else can’t possibly take me. There’s something that still isn’t right about this entire situation and I don’t know what it is. I don’t know what’s worse—that something’s wrong, or that I can’t pinpoint what it is.

Definitely the latter, I decide.

“You sure someone else shouldn’t take me?” I ask. “They seem to need you out here.”

“Every one of these men is well trained,” Xerxes replies. “They can handle things until I get back. I’m sure there are others who’ve been evacuating civilians as well.”

“I can get to town on my own,” I say, a last-ditch attempt. “If there’s just a car or something…”

“Just the truck,” Xerxes replies. “Get in.”

Something about his tone, soft but commanding, has me stepping into the truck before I even register that I’m obeying him. I frown. I’m not one for instinctively obeying orders like that. What the hell? And who is he to bark orders at me?

He’s a firefighter, Rebecca, he’s supposed to be in charge, and he’s just trying to get you to safety.

Yeah, sure. There’s something more going on here. The way he looks at me, how he gave me that flower, and his still unsatisfactory answer about how he found me—and the lie about not seeing the creature. That ust have been a lie. I know I wasn’t hallucinating, and he couldn’t have possibly missed such a big animal?

An animal with intelligent eyes.

Xerxes gets into the driver’s seat. I sit quietly, my bag in my lap so I can whack him with it if I have to. My laptop’s in it and the thing packs a wallop.

Once we start moving, I stay quiet. Xerxes was the one forcing the conversation earlier and he can keep trying with that all he wants. I’m not giving him any more information. He already knows more than I feel comfortable with.

I should’ve lied and said I have a sister who checks in on me regularly. A boyfriend who’s easily angered. My best friend who lives with me and just happened to be in town today. Anything to give him the idea that there are people who will miss me if I disappear.

Instead, I just handed him a victim on a silver platter. I’ve got nobody. No one will notice if I go missing. And now I’m alone with him in a truck.

Shit.

We start down the road that leads into town, but before we get there, Xerxes makes a left onto a smaller road.

My heart jumps into my throat. “I thought you were taking me to the bed and breakfast.”

“My home’s on the way, I need to shower and change and so do you. I have some spare things you can borrow. A lot of the stores will be closed due to the fire.”

“I have extra clothes.” I want to snarl at him to take me to the bed and breakfast, now, but then I remember that it’s probably best to not upset your serial killer. Stay on his good side, make him think you’re playing along, and then bam. Get him when he least expects it.

Man, if my mom could see me right now, she’d laugh her ass off. All that hard work and for what? she’d taunt. At least I never got murdered in the woods. Even a junkie like me was too smart for that.

As though getting knocked up and then spending twenty years of your life wasting away on drugs until you’re found dead in a back alley is a fair comparison.

I still have Xerxes’ stupid flower that he gave me, clutched in my hand. I’m not sure why. It just feels very important that I hang onto it, for some reason.

The drive through the woods is beautiful. I’d be enjoying it under any other circumstances.

Xerxes pulls into a driveway that’s so hidden by the trees I would’ve missed it if I’d been driving. It’s one of those turn offs that you really have to be looking for. It takes us down a long driveway that leads to a surprisingly cozy looking cabin.

Wow, I think, in spite of myself. This makes my cabin look like a flimsy tent. Again, normally I’d be jumping up and down with joy about this. Not so much when I’m possibly being led to my ritual sacrifice to Cthulhu.

Xerxes parks and gets out, opening my door for me before I can get to it. I start to stand up, and he puts his hands on my hips, lifting me up and helping me down. His hands are warm and large and for a wild moment it feels like they belong there, like of course he should touch me like this, hold me, perhaps even...

I step away, ignoring that feeling. But I also don’t do what I normally would, which would be to tell him to keep his damn hands to himself unless he planned on losing them.

It’s almost scarier that his touch doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I never had anyone I was close with growing up. No friends or anything. And I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’m not really into the whole touch thing, and when someone does it, especially a stranger, it makes something inside of my chest clench tightly and panicky. When Xerxes touches me, it feels… okay. Better than okay.

And that’s kind of terrifying. Please don’t be a serial killer.

“C’mon in,” Xerxes says, he unlocks the front door before turning and heading into the house. He wipes off the bottom of his boots, flicks on a light, etc. In other words, he acts like this is perfectly normal and not, well, super weird.

I follow, and once I cross the threshold and step into the house, I feel this very odd… sensation, I guess, is the word for it. It’s like something warm has settled into my chest and clicked into place, filling a hole that I didn’t know that I had.

I have to admit, it’s a pretty homey place. Not what I expect from a guy living alone. I would have thought he’d live in some kind of man cave, but instead it’s airy, open, plenty of space. There’s lots of interesting knickknacks on the shelves. Books, tons of them, but also odd things, like what looks like a ceremonial dagger on a stand, a tapestry of some kind hanging over the fireplace, and a beautiful, ancient map of the world on the opposite wall.

All in all, it looks like a place that was created with care. Each piece carefully selected, and then placed just as carefully within the space. Nothing’s cluttered or out of place. It’s clean, too, no dust bunnies or anything.

Okay, so maybe I’m impressed. A little.

It’s not a huge place, exactly. There’s the living room and kitchen which are open, and what looks like a small library room off to the side. I glimpse the bedroom, and then there’s a large bathroom. Out back is a balcony with a hot tub, although it’s covered right now. I love the view, and I stand by the wide glass back door, staring out at the tops of the trees. I wonder, idly, how Xerxes could afford a place like this on a firefighter’s salary.

He must have family money, I suppose.

I hear a noise behind me and turn to find Xerxes setting a pitcher of water and a glass on the counter. He’s removed his fire suit and is just in a t-shirt and pants. “You should drink up,” he says. “You’re dehydrated.”

I want to ask how he knows I’m dehydrated, but then I figure—I was caught in a fire. It’s common sense. Actually, what isn’t sensible is the fact that I feel fine after all of that. My eyes aren’t itchy, and my lungs and throat don’t feel raw or hurt at all. Shouldn’t I be feeling worse after all of that?

“I’m going to hop in the shower,” Xerxes says removing his shirt. Right there in the kitchen.

I gape. He’s…well, I assumed he was muscled, but, wow. I bet I could bounce a quarter off those abs. He could bounce a quarter. Someone could. Anyone but me, I mean. But who just takes their shirt off like that?

“Do you find my body to your liking?” Xerxes asks, and I immediately flush. I’m not sure what annoys me more, the fact that I’ve been caught staring or that I actually do like that he teases. I’m a sarcastic person and I appreciate anyone who can hold their own with me, but I don’t sense sarcasm in his question.

“I suppose you’d like that,” I shoot back. It’s not my best comeback ever but I’m thrown off my usual rhythm by the abs. This entire day has gone nothing like I expected.

Xerxes walks across to the bathroom. “Drink your water.”

I glare at him, because I’m not some trained dog or a young child who has to do what he says, but I do go and drink the water once he’s closed the bathroom door behind him. He is right, I’m dehydrated and I need to fix that.

I also grab a couple of tissues to blow my nose and get the smoke and soot out of it. Ugh.

As I drink my water, I peruse the bookshelves lining the walls. There’s classics, a good selection of mystery and thriller books, and a surprising number on mythology.

I think back to the creature in the forest. Is Xerxes aware of it? What if it was, like, his animal pal or something?

Xerxes emerges from the shower as I’m finishing the last of the water. I nearly choke myself into a coughing fit.

He’s wearing nothing but a towel.

I can feel heat sparking at the base of my spine, and I look for a place to set my empty glass to distract myself. Xerxes’ chest is still slightly damp, and his hair is sticking to his head. I have the strongest urge to walk over and lick the water droplets off his skin.

What? I don’t have this kind of reaction to people. Sure, there are celebrities that I’ve been attracted to and mildly thought, hey, that would be nice. And I’ve enjoyed the pleasure of my own company, so to speak. But a real, live person in front of me? Never. I don’t even like to be touched, usually. Yet I feel this incredible attraction to Xerxes, as though he might be the exception.

When I was younger, every time I started to think I might like a guy enough to become intimate, they’d inevitably turn out to be a royal jerk or have a crush on some other girl, or something. Later, if someone did ever approach me, it would just get my defenses up. I couldn’t bring myself to trust anyone enough to even really engage with them, so nothing ever came to fruition. At his point in my life, my fantasy train has long been derailed.

Hello, my name is Rebecca, I’m 27 years old and I’m still a virgin. Yup. It happens.

Right now, though, Xerxes has my body doing all sorts of things that I definitely did not give it permission to do, like melting a little and imagining how easy it would be for us to end up in bed. If I did initiate something, I have a strong feeling Xerxes wouldn’t stop me.

Dammit, of all the people to be lusting after, the mysterious guy who might or might not be a serial killer, and who is definitely hiding something.

“Give me just a second and I’ll drive you, okay?” Xerxes heads into the bedroom.

I nod, but the second he’s closed the door I’m checking the phone line.

No dial tone. Dammit. The fire’s really done a number on this area of the forest. Or he’s cut the phone lines so I can’t call for help. I’m really regretting ever watching Silence of the Lambs.

My mind races over all the events of the last hour. I’m not just a woman with, okay, some extreme relationship issues, I’m also a scientist. I know that I saw something in that forest. Something that might or might not have saved me, was definitely not human, and looked, in fact…

My eyes are drifting along the fireplace mantle and snag on one of the objects there. My heart jumps.

It’s an intricate metallic figurine.

That’s what I saw in the forest. The creature I saw looked exactly like the figurine. What I saw was... a goddamn dragon.

Xerxes must know about it. Why else would he have this figurine displayed on his mantle?

Where had the dragon disappeared to? Did it just lumber off somewhere? I would’ve seen or heard that, I’m certain of it. And it couldn’t have just taken off in flight, I’d have seen or heard that too. But it would’ve gotten engulfed by the fire if it stayed right where it was. Right where Xerxes emerge from…

No. No way. I’m going crazy, I must be.

My brain won’t let it go. I need answers. Growing up without anyone I could rely on, meant I had to learn how to trust myself and my instincts, my senses. Right now, and my instinct is telling me that I know what I took in, and biologist in me is screaming at me to investigate this further

I just have to figure out how to.

And figure out this whole Xerxes thing in the process because, whether I like it or not, I have the hot for the man. I need to figure that out too, before I do something stupid.