A warm breeze pushed through the trees, ruffling the leaves and new flora sprouting in the forest. In her journal, Sam scribbled down her notes from the day. She loved being in the woods. Although finals had come and gone and everyone else was relaxing for the summer, Sam had other ideas of fun. Although she didn’t take summer classes, she still loved to go over her material. When she wasn’t working towards her one major in Human Psychology, she was also studying her other passion, Botany. She loved to study the root system of a tree just as much as she loved to study the root system of the human brain stem. They worked in shockingly similar ways, and Sam loved disappearing into the woods for days at a time to work on her research.

Looking up at the sky, she saw that the sun had sank towards the West several hours ago. She had lost track of time as usual. Nightfall was barely an hour and a half away, and she still wanted to take a live sample of the strange fungus she’d found growing in the woods.

It was unlike anything she could find in her text books or online, which was really saying something. At first, she’d taken a picture in hopes to find out more, but after that came up empty-handed, she decided to move on to the next step: samples.

Technically, the land she was on was preserved. She was allowed to be on it, and with a special permit she got from the Forestry Department, she was allowed to camp on it. However she was, under no circumstances, allowed to take anything from the land. Which would make removing a sample, a crime.

Normally, law breaking wasn’t something Sam was up for, but when it came to her research, nothing was off limits.

When she found the fungus she had photographed a few weeks before, she was surprised to find that it had spread much further and faster than the average fungal species. To add to the mystery, everything it touched appeared to be dying. Trees, moss, flowers, anything that was able to touch the multitude of dark red soft little mushroom caps or grow them, seemed to wilt and die.

She had gotten the little red buggers safely into a sample bag and was taking off her gloves when she felt a tingle go down her spine. The wind shifted subtly, blowing her long auburn locks over her shoulder as she suddenly stood up and looked around. Sitting on a fallen tree trunk a few yards away was Greg, the shower seducer.

“Greg?” She asked, surprised. She had been sure that she had been alone. She’d never bumped into anyone in this particular area of the woods before, not even other botany students. She felt her guard slide up as she also realized that, despite all of the forest floor debris, she hadn’t heard a single sound of someone approaching. The insects, who usually sang a loud choral piece all day and night long, were silent.

“That’s me,” he responded, smiling. “It’s good to see you again, Sam.”

Sam raised a bemused eyebrow. “Is it? You barely know me. I could be a serial killer or something.”

Greg didn’t laugh, but merely shrugged his shoulders, as if it were no big thing to be alone with such a person.

“I’ve been around worse things as you,” he answered, nonchalantly. “What you prefer is really of no consequence to me.”

Sam opened her mouth to speak but she didn’t know what to say. Normally, she’d have some smartass remark to shoot back at someone, but Greg’s impartialness seemed quite genuine. And still despite that, there was a twinkle in his eyes that told her he wanted her to stick around.

“I’m not sure what to make out of you,” Sam replied, honestly.

“You want to make out with me?” Greg asked, his smile lighting up. “Okay, but just so you know, I’ve been thinking about you all week so I might get a little handsy.”

Sam rolled her eyes, feeling genuinely amused with his banter. It was actually nice to flirt with someone, she realized. Fun, even.

“Haha, very funny,” she retorted. “Well, if you’re not going to tell me who you are, will you at least tell me what you’re doing out here alone in the woods?”

For the first time, Greg’s eyes lost their amusement. A seriousness settled into his gaze, and he moved with surprising grace and speed off of the tree trunk.

“You really shouldn’t be touching that mold with your bare hands,” he told her, moving closer. “It’s not good for you.”

He pointed to the sample bag in her hand. “And you’re not supposed to take stuff. It’s against the law.”

His joking tone was gone, and the look he gave her told her he was quite serious about the preserved land. He may have been a bit of a goof, but the fact that he respected the preserved forest spoke volumes to her.

“I know it’s illegal,” she replied, looking guilty. “But this is something I can’t identify and that speaks volumes because I happen to be very astu- wait,” Sam said, switching directions. She pointed a finger at Greg as she raised an eyebrow.

“How did you know this fungus was poisonous? Have you seen it before? I haven’t found any information on it in any of my textbooks.”

“You won’t either,” he told her, his eyes shifting from hers, to something behind her, to hers again. She fought the urge to turn around, although she suddenly felt unsafe.

“This stuff is very dangerous, and it’s also extremely rare. Or brand new. I can’t quite identify the origins of it.” He paused for a moment to run a hand through his hair. His aqua blue eyes scanned around the forest as a wind pushed through the greenery.

It reminded Sam of the start of a horror film. The young man, sensing something was wrong, moved closer to the lone female in an effort to protect her from whatever lurked in the shadows. She nearly laughed out loud when after she thought it, he actually moved a few paces closer to her.

“Alright,” he said at last. “You can take it back to your lab to get it tested if you want, but I’m telling you now it won’t match with anything.” His eyes drifted from hers back to something behind her again.

“However, I have plenty of my own research back at my place, if you’re interested.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Please, I’ve heard that line.” Actually, she hadn’t. “I’m not interested in your ‘research.’”

A smile twitched on Greg’s lips. “Another conversation for another time, I promise. But for now, I am specifically talking about this fungus. I have real papers on this. Seriously. It’s also getting dark soon, and a storm is moving in. Whatever you decide, it’s time to leave these woods either way.”

Glancing up at the sky, she saw that the clouds were darkening rather fast. A twilight rainfall was definitely on its way. He was right about getting out of the woods, but she wasn’t sure about the research yet.

“I don’t quite picture you as a nerd,” she mused.

“Well, keep in mind that you have a very skewed vision of me,” he retorted. “You only met me once and I was, um, buried in the thralls of passion, shall we say?” He winked at her. “That doesn’t give you much to draw a proper hypothesis on my overall personality or norm behaviors now, does it?”

Sam’s eyebrow went so high she thought they would disappear into her hairline.

“That was…quite an educated response. And truthful. I’m sorry for judging you.”

Greg shrugged. “It’s human nature. As is finding a shelter in a storm. I will gladly continue to discuss my academic moxy with you, but first can we please head back to my home.” A darkness fell over his eyes.

“We don’t want to be out here when this storm hits,” he warned.

“If I come with you,” she mused, sensing his urgency. “Can you guarantee me a safe return to my dorm room after I’m done looking over your research?”

Something resembling relief spread across Greg’s face, and he nodded. “Scout’s honor. Not a single hair on your head will be mussed whilst you are in my care.”

“Funny,” Sam mused as Greg started to lead the way. “But it better be accurate.”

“No, seriously. Where do you live?” Sam asked. The rain was starting to fall in heavy drops, and she wanted some place dry. But the place Greg took her to however could not have possibly been his house.

“This is where I live,” he insisted. “Now can we at least get to the porch? We’re both going to be soaked to the bone if we don’t move quickly.”

They were standing at the front gates to one of the city’s oldest mansions. It was a historic treasure, dating back to the 1700s. It easily took up an entire city block, and that didn’t count the gardens and meadows that surrounded it. It had been declared a historical monument, but back in the 90s someone had bought it for a private residence. It had become a town mystery, because no one ever saw anyone go in or out.

Between the gate and the porch was a cobblestone pathway lined with lush ferns and solar lights, already glowing in the darkening night. On the porch stood several brightly colored pots with tall, exotic plants that were strung with twinkle lights. By the steps was a small water fountain, with small koi jumping excitedly at the rain drops hitting the water. It all looked so welcoming, and somehow slightly looming.

A sudden and violent thunder quake shook the earth and sky, making her yelp. Deciding it was all or nothing, Sam moved through the gate door Greg held open for her and together they sprinted towards the porch. They made it under the eaves just before the clouds opened up and poured rain down in sheets.

“Good timing,” Greg quipped, his tone wry.

“Hey,” Sam shot back, shivering slightly. “Would you follow someone you’ve only met once in a shower stall, home?”

Greg raised an amused eyebrow. “I find it quite fun to go home with anyone at anytime, as long as I’m invited.” He winked and flashed her a wolfish grin, and she smiled, despite not wanting to approve of his erotic wordplay.

Suddenly he reached out and took Sam’s hand, his eyes and body language shifting to a more serious nature. “Sam, I’m not trying to hurt you. Honestly. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t find you absolutely appetizing to look at.” He paused, his voice lowering to a dangerous level of sexy.

Sam blinked rapidly. No one had ever said such things to her before. She began shaking her head.

“I know that’s not true,” she said, convinced. “Me? No. I’m-”

“Gorgeous,” he said, finishing her sentence. “In fact, Trevor and I can’t stop talking about meeting you.”

Sam’s heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest as she tried to wrap her mind around being wanted in such a way. It was foreign to her, and exciting.

“Really?” She rasped, her voice suddenly gone.

“I would love to make you scream my name in pleasure,” he told her, his lips so close to hers she could feel his cool breath flutter across her face. “But I’m not ever going to do that unless you clearly tell me you want it. I promise you, you’re virtue, and your body are safe.”

Sam stood in shocked silence as shots of arousal hit every one of her erogenous zones. Her mouth watered as the image of herself splayed under Greg’s body in obvious pleasure filled her mind. She fought her more animalistic urges to simply give in, and tried to change the subject.

“Y-you talk different,” she said, her voice quivering slightly. “L-like Trevor. Like you’re from a different world or time period or something.”

A smile returned to Greg’s lips as he took a step back, the heat disappearing from his enigmatic blue eyes.

“Or something,” he responded. “Trevor actually lives here as well, although he’s not home at the moment. Still, I don’t know about you, but I’d rather like to get into some dryer clothes.” He held out his arm to her in a gentlemanly fashion. “Shall we?”

Greg led Sam through the house, filling her in on odd tidbits of information about one piece of art or another. From the third floor, where his room must have been, Greg brought down dry clothes for her. In one of the many guest bathrooms on the first floor, Sam quickly changed into the dry hoodie and sweatpants, which she rolled up into capris. She caught a dark, musky scent on the clothes, and in the privacy of the bathroom she gathered up the neckline of the hoodie and inhaled deeply.

Damn, this guy smells amazing, she thought. Outside, Greg took her wet clothes and shoes and deposited them down a laundry shoot.

“I’m going to need those back,” she told him.

“Don’t worry, you’ll see them again,” he assured her. “For now, though, I have a promise to fulfill. Follow me.”

Once more he led her through the house, going all the way to the opposite end towards the kitchen. Between the stove and the breakfast nook were two tall, wide white French doors that showed off a beautiful view of an enclosed garden.

“We’re going back outside?” She asked, confused.

“It’s an enclosed garden,” he explained. “No fear of the rain.” He opened the doors and led her through them. The enclosure was darkened from all of the lush and fecund plants growing up and around the walls and ceiling. Beneath her bare feet, she felt the moist earth and cobblestones that led a path to a rather large, intricate fountain hidden behind a small wall of trees. In front of it stood a large marble table, to the right, a very tall armoire.

“What is this place?” Sam asked, her eyes trying to take in every peculiar and mystical-looking plant she could see, not to mention the fountain.

“Wait here,” he told her. He raced back inside, only to return a few seconds later juggling several lanterns. Setting them down, he pulled an antique-looking gold lighter from his pocket and quickly lit them. The soft glow of the lanterns filled the darkened space, highlighting even more features of the fountain and its surroundings.

To the right of the fountain sat a large looming armoire that she examined. It was made of dark wood and brass handles long ago, when such craftsmanship was appreciated.

“Where did you get this?” She asked, running her hand over one of the brass knobs.

“Su-Trevor made it,” Greg explained, opening it to reveal several twigs and branches, multiple glass jars with scribbles written over them, and nearly a dozen thick leather-bound books that took up the bottom two shelves. He smiled as he looked over the odd collection.

“This is my laboratory,” he explained before going into more detail.

Sam was still trying to wrap her head around someone as young as Trevor building such an intricate, if not antique thing, when Greg surprised her again with information on his little lab. From what he was telling her, he had to have been studying at the university for at least twelve years, but it seemed impossible as he didn’t look a day over twenty-five.

“Are you a grad student then?” She asked, trying to make sense of his capabilities. “You must have started taking classes when you were like, thirteen or something. Are you a genius?”

He laughed again, shaking his head. “No, I’m not a student anymore,” was all he would reply with. Changing the subject, Greg picked up one of the branches and brought it to her. It was very clearly infected with the fungi that she had been studying. She wasn’t sure how long it had been in there, but the fungi was in the process of sucking the last bit of life from its cells.

“How long have you had that?” She asked, her curiosity peaking.

“About two weeks,” he replied. “But look, watch what happens.” Turning around, he walked the few steps over to the fountain, and slowly dipped the branch into the largest basin. To her utter astonishment, she watched as the water dissolved the fungus, washing it completely away from the branch. When Greg brought it back out of the water, it immediately started to turn colors, and new growths sprouted all over it. It was healed.

Sam was speechless. She’d never seen anything come back to life so fast, or, even at all. Dead things stayed dead, that’s just how she’d always understood how things worked. Her mind was very confused on what to make of both the mysterious fungi, and now, fountain.

“What’s in that water?” She asked.

Greg’s eyes lit up.

“I’m glad you asked. It’s not just what’s in the water, but also the special filtration system I built in the fountain. It strips away any impurities and amplifies the natural anti-bacterial microbes within a unique concentrate that I put in the water.”

Before she could ask another question, a large crash came from inside the house, making her jump several inches. Greg immediately dropped the branch, closed the doors to the armoire, and murmured something about her staying still while he hurried into the house. Several minutes ticked by as Sam waited for Greg’s return. When she still hadn’t seen him and another crash echoed through the house, she decided to check things out for herself.

Following the sounds of yelling, Sam found Greg and another man arguing loudly in what she could only guess was called a ‘great room.’ It had high, vaulted ceilings, with white walls and dark mahogany accents. Every corner of the room was filled with plants, bookshelves, or both. On the opposite end of the room stood a rather large fireplace, a hot blaze crackling within it. In the middle of the room were carefully spaced couches and chairs, all of which looked like a complete delight to settle into and fall asleep in. Greg and the guy were standing among them, their body language imitating that of a fight.

“Zane,” Greg said, his tone low and authoritative. “I understand you’re upset, but you have to calm down. We have company.”

From the doorway, Sam watched as the two men argued. ‘Zane,’ or whoever he was, was just as handsome as Greg and Trevor, but for different reasons. His hair was long like Trevor’s, but platinum blonde, nearly white. His bright blue eyes glittered like glaciers, even from where Sam was standing. Also unlike Greg or Trevor, he was incredibly pale. So much so that she could see the blue of his veins standing out in his neck. Still, there were some similarities. The deep voice, the well-toned muscles, and then of course, that now familiar tingle that not one, not two, but three of these oddly enticing looking men have given her.

Like Trevor and Greg, ‘Zane’ seemed impossibly familiar to her. There was something about him that resonated with her, pulled her to want to comfort and soothe him. Her body responded to his voice, although angry, the same way it responded to the other two.

She looked around the room, suddenly feeling a little lightheaded, and confused. At her neck, she felt her pendant begin to feel warm, irritating. She fought the urge to pull it over her head and fling it as far from her as possible.

She was trying to figure out what to do when she realized that the yelling had stopped and both men were looking at her.

“Who’s that, Aruum?” Zane asked, his voice much more gentle than before.

Aruum? Sam asked herself, confused. Then she remembered. That was what Trevor called him last week too. It wasn’t a curse word like she realized, but Greg’s actual name. The plot, it seemed, was thickening.

Taking a deep breath, Sam stepped out of her hiding place and into the dimly lit room. Zane’s eyes went impossibly wide as he looked Sam completely up and down not once, but twice. The second time, his eyes stopped at her pendant.

“Um, hi. I’m Sam. Greg er- Aruum and I got caught in the rain in the woods. He let me come see his samples.”

Aruum groaned and covered his eyes as Zane turned his gaze back to him.

“You intentionally brought someone here wearing that into our house?” He asked, his rage shining through in his voice once more. “Are you insane, brother?”

“Calm down,” Aruum told him, sounding more authoritative this time. “You don’t know her. Sulma and I have read her energy and you don’t understand-”

A hand came down on Sam’s shoulder as Aruum stopped talking mid-sentence, making her shriek and jump. Looking up, she found herself getting lost in eyes the color of Christmas pine. Flecks of gold and dark brown swirled within the green globes, telling her to follow them, trust them.

“I think we’ve all had enough for now, don’t you?” He asked. His tone was deep, but calm. It sent a flood of warmth and relaxation throughout Sam’s entire body. Suddenly she certainly did feel as if she’d had enough. Not of the conversation, but the day. She was tired, hungry, and not quite herself.

She nodded, almost obediently. “Yes,” she agreed, the word barely above a whisper.

“Taas,” Aruum pleaded, walking towards them. “There’s no need, really.”

“We will discuss this later,” Taas told him, his tone dismissive.

Aruum shook his head, grabbed Sam’s hand, and tugged her away from Taas.

At first Sam wanted to whine in annoyance, but the more space she got from the green-eyed man, the more awake she felt.

“Wait…what was that?” Sam asked, blinking her eyes rapidly. “I should go. Where are my clothes?”

“They’ll be done in another hour or so,” Aruum told her. “Come on, I’ll take you upstairs to wait.”

He began to tug her towards the hallway, despite her insistence of leaving, but Taas was suddenly between them, tearing Aruum’s hand away from Sam’s wrist.

“Enough,” Taas said, his tone still eerily calm. “You will not jeopardize us for a lay.” He looked down at Sam, raking his eyes up her figure much like the other one had. “No matter how beautiful.”

“Hey!” Sam exclaimed, putting space between both men. “I am not-”

“Leave. Now,” Tass growled, his tone changing to more animal than man.

Sam gasped as she not just heard, but felt the change in his voice. Then, to her surprise, he calmed down, his eyes returning to a more human form.

“Our driver will see to it that you make it home safely. He’s still waiting at the car. Now, go Sam.”

Sam didn’t recall telling him her name, but she didn’t care either. Not waiting another minute, se gripped up her backpack and quickly fled for the exit.