Chapter 9
Homecoming fever gripped the high school. Bridger hadn’t noticed it, being too wrapped up in his own head and problems, but walking through the main doors on Monday, he couldn’t miss the banner—literally. Whoever had hung it hadn’t secured it tightly enough, and it drooped halfway into the hall. Bridger ducked on the way to his locker, and the edge of the paper proclaiming Midden High is the best!!! scraped over his hair.
The game was on Friday. The dance on Saturday.
Bridger had gone to the game the year before with Astrid and the field hockey girls. He and Astrid had skipped the dance. They’d held a protest movie marathon at Astrid’s house since neither of them had dates, and they didn’t want to go together.
He probably wouldn’t go to the dance this year either—less a date-less protest but more a self-care mechanism.
He would go to the game to cheer for Leo, though.
Bridger’d heard the rumors about how good Leo was at football, but being wise to rumors, he had written them off as exaggeration. Except, Bridger found out from Zeke, of all people, that Leo was college-scout good, as in, they were going to be at the game. And how cool was that? His potential boyfriend was the real deal. He could get an athletic scholarship to a team in the Big Ten.
Well, scholarship or not, Bridger knew who he was going to vote for as Homecoming King.
Bridger approached his locker, and as had become usual, Astrid was not waiting for him.
However, Leo was.
Bridger smiled, ridiculous and giddy, and he pushed his blond hair out of his eyes and he was glad he had worn his good pair of jeans. He discreetly adjusted his flannel shirt and hoped he didn’t have any mini muffins in his teeth.
“Hey,” Bridger said, leaning against the locker. Luckily, he did not fall or bang his head, which was a definite improvement.
Leo smiled. “Hey, yourself.”
“What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you wanted to watch practice after school, and then I could give you a lift home. I drove my mom’s car today.”
Bridger’s middle fluttered, a thousand butterflies suddenly took flight in his stomach, and he crossed his arms.
“Could you drive me to work instead?”
“Yeah, I could.”
“That sounds awesome.”
Leo grinned. The bell rang, and Bridger startled. He opened his locker, grabbed his books, and shoved them into his bag.
They walked to English together.
“What did you think of the Friar’s Tale?”
“I think I didn’t read it yet,” Bridger replied. “I’m just glad we have moved on from Hamlet. What was it about?”
“A demon.”
Bridger paused, thoughtful. “Huh, maybe I should read that.”
Leo cocked an eyebrow. “If you want a good grade, yeah.”
“Right,” Bridger said. “Exactly.”
The school day was uneventful, except for the great fall weather, and Bridger took pride when his fellow students mentioned the beautiful sunshine. He couldn’t tell them why but, hey, he didn’t have a problem taking a little internal credit.
Bridger strode out the back doors and crossed the athletic fields to find a good spot to watch Leo and the football team.
The practice football field butted up against the field hockey field. Sitting on the bleachers, Bridger could look across the expanse of flat manicured grass to the field hockey team. He picked Astrid out easily. She had changed her hair from bright red to black with blue tips. Bridger rested his feet on the seat in front of him and watched as she practiced: protecting the goal, running up the field, sending the ball sailing up the midfield with one powerful strike. She laughed, and high-fived her teammates, and looked genuinely happy.
A pang of regret and sorrow hit Bridger so hard he thought he might fall off the bleachers. He pulled out his phone and pulled up her contact information.
He sent her a text.
I’m sorry. And I miss you.
She wouldn’t get it until after her practice. And she might not respond, but Bridger did miss her. He couldn’t be brave with his mom, but maybe he could be brave with her.
Bridger looked away and focused on the football team and Leo.
It wasn’t a full practice, so they weren’t wearing pads. They ran a few sprints and then reviewed plays. Leo was ridiculous in how hot he was and how easily he moved. He ran faster than anyone else. He caught the ball better and jumped higher and outperformed everyone on the field. He was humble when he received praise from the coaches and his teammates; he ducked his head and blushed, waved off the compliments and gave his own to the others.
He was a hero. King Arthur brought forth from Avalon. Or Heracles descended from the heavens.
And he wanted to date Bridger.
Bridger couldn’t help but smile as he thought about it; his whole body was alight and warm. He was going to ask him to Homecoming. It was only a week away, and Leo may already have a date, but Bridger was going to ask him. He was going to do it. Today. After practice. Yes.
Bridger stretched, basking in the sun, and lazily watched the activities on the field. The football players ran plays. The field hockey girls practiced. The cheerleaders did backflips. The track team jumped hurdles. A large black dog stalked the tree line.
Bridger sat up so fast he almost fell off the bleachers. He banged his elbow on the metal, but it barely registered.
Oh, please, no. Please don’t be real.
But there, in the shadows of the adjoining woods, prowled a large black wild animal. It was huge, the size of the cougars Bridger had seen at the zoo, but instead of slick fur, it was shaggy; its coat was more like a bear’s than a dog’s. Twin horns sprouted from its head, curling around the side of its face. And it was pure black, so dark that it seemed to absorb every ounce of light—except for its eyes, which were red and slitted and glowing. It noticed Bridger watching, and it pulled back its lip in a snarl, fangs dripping and sharp. Its tail twitched, but it kept to the trees, as if there was a line it could not cross.
Keeping his gaze locked on the animal lest it decided to charge, Bridger hopped up, grabbed his bag, and walked briskly toward the equipment shack. He smiled tightly at the students he passed and felt blindly in the bottom of his bag as he strode to the small building.
He made it there just as the mirror began to ring. Perfect timing. Flipping it open, he saw Pavel with Nia hovering over his shoulder.
“Bridger, there is—”
“A really scary and large black cougar-dog-thing near the football field? Yeah, got it, boss.”
“Ah, yes, well.” Pavel cleared its throat. “What is it doing?”
“Other than being terrifying? It’s growling and stalking.” Bridger peeked around the corner of the shed. Yep, still there. “It’s acting like it’s stuck. Like it can’t cross over the school property line.”
“Do you have your book?”
Bridger rooted in his bag until he grasped the leather binding. He pulled it out.
“Got it. Now what?”
“Look up the Ozark Howler.”
Bridger flipped through the pages, which was difficult while trying to hold the mirror and not be noticed by the dozens of students on the fields. He shot an overly friendly smile at a nearby cheerleader and winked. It freaked her out, and she frowned and walked away to the group of girls.
“Um… Ozark Howler. A nocturnal apparition found primarily in the Ozarks. Well, he’s obviously lost.”
“Keep reading.”
Bridger hummed and skimmed. “Associated with the black dog from folklore of the British Isles, its howl is a cross between a wolf’s howl and the bugle of an elk. A portent of death... What the hell, Pavel?”
“It’s an omen. And it’s nocturnal. A howler can’t stand the light. That’s why it’s not coming closer.”
Bridger looked back over, and, sure enough, the huge dog skirted the shadowed line, not daring to cross into the sunlight, but moving along the tree line, stalking closer to the football field.
“So we’re safe for now?”
Pavel’s lips pressed into a thin line. “For now. But you must—”
Pavel kept talking, but Bridger was unable to hear over the chilling screech-howl of the howler. It sounded like a wolf, but higher-pitched, and loud and long and menacing. A chill swept down Bridger’s spine, and he dropped both the book and the compact to clap his hands over his ears. He crouched and watched as the dog, lips pulled back over sharp teeth, prowled along the shadow line. It let out another intense growl, a rumble of menace, and Bridger flinched.
The students and coaches on the fields mirrored Bridger’s pose while the adults looked around frantically for the source. The animal howled again, rent the frantic chatter on the field with a horror-movie shriek combined with a yodel. A girl pointed and screamed, her panicked cry pierced the air, and everyone began yelling, gesturing, and running toward the parking lot and school. The crowd descended into chaos. Coaches waved and herded the students toward the school doors, while they grabbed bags and equipment and dragged it behind them.
“Did you hear that?”
“What is it?”
“It’s a cougar!”
“It sounds like a wolf!”
The howler slunk to its haunches, ears flattened, paws extended, but it didn’t move, merely watched with its red eyes.
Bridger dropped his hands, scooped up the book and compact, and shoved them into his bag. He heard Pavel’s muffled voice, but he ignored it in favor of searching for Leo.
“Bridger!” Leo said, pushing through the crowd to the equipment shack like a salmon swimming upstream. He grabbed Bridger’s arm. “Come on! Let’s get out of here.”
“What’s going on?” Bridger asked, feigning ignorance.
“Some kind of animal. Coach said to get to safety. Let’s go!”
Bridger allowed himself to be pulled toward Leo’s car, jogging to keep up with Leo’s panicked strides. His grip on Bridger’s elbow was strong, warm, and proprietary. They neared the car, a gray sedan, a definite mom-car, and Leo unlocked the door with the key fob he fished from his equipment bag.
Bridger jumped into the passenger seat and, while Leo threw his football stuff into the trunk, Bridger pulled out the mirror.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he whispered to Nia, who hovered, a shower of purple, perturbed sparkles. He closed the mirror shut and threw it in the bag as Leo slid in.
“Holy crap,” Leo said. His chest heaved and his dark, sweaty hair clung to his forehead. His hands shook as he put the key in the ignition and gripped the steering wheel. “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah. Creepy.”
Leo clutched his phone and started scrolling through texts. “Zeke says the cheerleaders saw it and said it was a big cat. But John on the track team says it was a dog. Amber says there are no cougars in Michigan and it could’ve been an elk. Did it sound like an elk to you?”
“I can honestly say I’ve never had the pleasure to hear an elk bugle.”
“Bugle? Is that what they do? How did you know that?”
“Jeopardy. I’m quite the fan. I wasn’t kidding when I told you that.”
Leo shook his head. The notification pings of text messages were rapid fire. Leo read them and texted a few friends back; his fingers flew over the screen.
Bridger craned his neck and bent over. Leo smelled good despite having worked out for the past hour. His warmth was a welcome comfort. “You know a lot of people.” Understatement. Half the senior class was sending him messages.
Why Leo had chosen Bridger as his potential boyfriend was beyond him. He wasn’t questioning it, though. He was not looking a gift horse in the mouth. If he was a character in a movie, he’d be citizen of Troy number three.
Leo smiled, huffing out a laugh. “Yeah. I do.”
Bridger glanced at his own phone. He had no texts or calls. He looked for Astrid and caught a glimpse of her blue hair inside another person’s car. At least she was okay. She hadn’t answered his text, but there had just been a wild animal sighting near the athletics fields. He’d give her a pass.
“So, I guess I should drive you to work, huh? I doubt they’ll let us back out there until after animal control takes a look.”
“Yeah.” Bridger clicked his seatbelt and that’s when he realized he was in a car alone with Leo and he had asserted to himself less than an hour ago that he was going to ask him to Homecoming. He fidgeted, pulled at the strings of his hoodie, and tapped his feet on the floorboard. He opened his mouth, but Leo cut him off.
“How are you not more freaked out?” Leo asked. “I’m freaked. And you’re calm.”
Not as calm as he looked. “Oh, well, you know, almost drowned earlier in the year. It takes more to rattle me now. I’ve grown.”
Leo laughed. He took Bridger’s hand and held it as he pulled out of his parking spot. “Well, hold my hand and comfort me.”
Bridger blushed, laced his fingers with Leo’s, and marveled at the casual touch. “Yeah, okay, I can do that.”
The drive to the house wasn’t long at all compared to Bridger’s usual bus ride. They spent half the time talking, with Leo throwing out random guesses about the sound and Bridger deflecting. The rest of the time they listened to music in companionable silence. They didn’t talk about Homecoming, and Bridger chickened out. Maybe he could do it via text. That might be less nerve-wracking. Or never. He could live with never.
Leo pulled up in front of the house; his phone calmly announced they had arrived at their destination.
“Is it right?” Leo said, staring at the architectural monstrosity. “This is where you work?”
“Yep,” Bridger said, reluctantly releasing Leo’s hand. He gathered his things. “It’s seriously not as creepy at it looks.” It’s creepier. “Thanks for the ride. It was way better than taking the city bus.”
Bridger exited the car and was surprised to see Leo get out as well. Leo hopped onto the curb and waited.
“You honestly don’t have to walk me to the door.” Because he couldn’t. It wouldn’t open for Leo. A substitute mailman had bounced off the ward the other day when he’d tried to slide mail through the slot. It had been both hilarious and awe-inspiring to see the guy fall backward onto his butt from the force of the protective shield.
“Who says I’m walking you? I want to see the inside of this place,” Leo said with a grin.
“Oh, well, my boss, he doesn’t really like people coming in that aren’t supposed—”
Leo tapped Bridger lightly on the shoulder. “Tag, you’re it!” He took off running up the sidewalk.
Bridger had no hope that he would catch him, but he tried anyway. He didn’t look forward to explaining, however falsely, about the door.
As Leo reached for the handle, Bridger winced, waiting for the inevitable shock of light and the thud of Leo falling backward.
Leo touched the handle.
The door swung inward.
Leo bounded across the threshold.
Bridger followed, mouth open, and met the wide-eyed stares of Pavel and Elena, as Leo waltzed in, none the wiser. Maybe the magic was off? But no, Bridger experienced the usual tingle over his skin.
Leo had walked in. Leo had crossed the threshold. Leo was a myth. Leo was a myth.
Holy shit.
Bridger kept his freak-out to himself, but it was a hard thing.
He exchanged anxious looks with Pavel and mouthed a few expletives behind Leo’s back. Elena arched an eyebrow; her dark lips quirked into a smirk. Pavel’s eyes went wide as platters.
“Whoa,” Leo said, looking around. “This place is awesome.”
“Whoa, indeed.” Pavel’s expression was a mixture of curiosity and concern. At least he had controlled any apprehension. “Hello, again.”
“Oh, hi,” Leo greeted brightly. He shook Pavel’s hand. “Nice to see you again, sir.”
Bridger reeled. He dropped his bag at his feet and gestured weakly between Leo and the group of surprised adults.
“Leo, this is my boss, Pavel, who you’ve met. And, uh, Elena. And over there is Mindy. She’s a chatterbox.” Mindy clicked her pen, used the end to scratch a spot in her beehive of hair, and didn’t look up from her word search.
Elena flicked her long, luxurious brown hair over her shoulder and eyed Leo with interest. She lifted her nose and inhaled. Her tongue flicked over her lips, and she put a hand on her hip. Her blood-red nails were in sharp contrast against the emerald green of her dress. The movement sent Bridger’s blood alight, and Elena flashed a smile in his direction. He went weak-kneed.
Leo didn’t seem to notice Elena at all. He seemed more interested in the paintings on the wall and the vaulted ceiling and the staircase that climbed up and up and up.
“I’m sorry for bursting in. But I had to get a look inside this place. It’s amazing.”
Pavel gave Leo a tight smile. “It is. I quite like it.”
Bridger ducked his head. Leo’s shoe was untied.
“Oh, hey, better get that before you trip.”
Leo looked down. “Oh, yeah.” He knelt, and Pavel and Bridger had a quiet, yet vehement, discussion over Leo’s head. It boiled down to how in all the worlds was Leo able to walk through the door?
Leo stood; his medallion was a silver circle on his chest, and Pavel’s gaze zeroed in on the jewelry.
“Beautiful necklace.”
“A Saint Christopher medal,” Leo said, fingering the medallion before dropping it back through the collar of his shirt.
“Patron saint of travelers.”
“Yeah, this old guy in the airport gave it to me before we left Puerto Rico. He told me it would protect me on my journey.” Leo shrugged. “I heard lots of athletes wear them.”
Weird. Not that Bridger was going to comment. His brain hadn’t made it that far. He was still stuck on the fact that Leo walked through the door.
Pavel’s brow furrowed. “That’s interesting.”
“Yeah. I’ve taken a few hard hits on the team, but, so far, no injuries. I guess it works.”
Pavel smiled tightly. “Very interesting.”
There was an awkward pause during which Bridger was at a loss and Pavel seemed to be mulling something over.
Bridger cleared his throat.
“Oh, yes, if you step over there, you’ll find the library Bridger has been working on.”
“Oh, cool. Thanks.” Leo shot Bridger a wide, proud grin, then ducked through the door to the adjoining room. Bridger heard him sneeze.
He began to follow, but Pavel grabbed his arm.
“What is going on?” he asked in a harsh whisper.
“I don’t know!” Bridger flailed. “Is the door working?”
“Of course it’s working. What is he?”
“What do you mean what?”
Elena studied her nails. “He smells like power and light.” She wrinkled her nose. “And teenage boy.”
“He came in the door, Bridger. He couldn’t do that unless he left from it or unless—”
Bridger swallowed around a tight throat. Pavel was confirming his fear. “He’s a myth.”
It made sense: his athletic prowess, his magnetic personality, the way people flocked to him, the way his body moved, the way he smelled, the way his touch was electric and sent shivers down Bridger’s spine, his sincerity, his innate kindness. Was that why Bridger was infatuated with him?
Frowning, Bridger bit his lip. “I don’t know what he is. He hasn’t given any indication that he is one.”
Pavel read the uncertainty and distress in Bridger’s features, and his expression softened. He patted Bridger’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. Later.”
Leo bounded out of the library, exuberant. “Wow, Bridger, there are actual scrolls in there. How cool is that?” He threw an arm around Bridger’s shoulder and squeezed. “Thanks for letting me drop in.”
Bridger melted into the embrace. “No problem. Thanks for the ride.”
“Maybe next time I can go upstairs.”
“Oh, I don’t—”
“Yes, possibly. But I do need Bridger to focus on work now. I have important tasks for him to complete that are time sensitive.”
Leo smiled warmly. “I’ll get out of your hair.” He bent close to Bridger’s cheek but, glancing at the adults in the room, checked himself. His breath skirted Bridger’s ear, then he pulled back and slapped Bridger on the back. “See you at school tomorrow.”
“Yep. At school. Bye, Leo.”
Leo waved over his shoulder and left via the door. It closed behind him, and Bridger let out a breath.
“So he’s the one you lust after?” Pavel asked.
Elena snorted.
Bridger scowled. “Thanks for that, Pavel. I’ll keep it in mind next time I feel compelled to tell you anything. At least you didn’t say it in front of him.”
“Oh, he lusts after you, too,” Elena said, smiling wide. “You two are a bouquet of hormones.”
“I hate you and I don’t even know you.”
Elena laughed, her hand looked delicate against her throat.
Bridger hated that his pulse raced.
“As much fun as this is, I have places to be.”
“Yeah, don’t you have a road in Wisconsin to terrorize?”
Elena narrowed her eyes. “No, but I do have a girlfriend to meet for a date. And I need to drink my aconite potion beforehand. So, if you’ll excuse me.” She gave Pavel a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She wiped her lipstick from his cheek with her thumb and stalked to the door.
Bridger’s heart stuttered.
“You’re ridiculous,” Pavel said with a smile. “But don’t worry. It’s part of her werewolf charm. You’ll become immune eventually.”
“I hope so.” Bridger gulped. “Do you think that’s why I’m attracted to Leo? Because he’s… something?”
Pavel shook his head. “No. I think you’re attracted to Leo because he’s cute.”
Blowing out a breath, Bridger nodded. “Okay.”
“Come on. Let’s have tea. I also want to look at the board. Another myth in the area is cause for updating what we know.”
In Pavel’s study, Bran stirred Bridger’s tea with a spoon, as Nia fluttered around, sparkles flying everywhere and dissolving as they hit the floor.
“Never hang up the mirror on me again, young man,” she said, waving a finger in his face. Her wings were a flurry. “That was the Ozark Howler, and it could have ripped you to shreds.”
“Pavel said I was safe.”
“Until twilight!” She fluttered closer, and Bridger’s eyes crossed. She flicked his forehead.
“Ow!” It hurt like a bee sting. He rubbed the spot. “What was that for?”
Bran huffed. “You don’t have the magic of protection a full intermediary does. You don’t have the command in your voice. You are neither indestructible nor immortal. In other terms, don’t do stupid things, human.”
“Hey, I already have a mother, so you two can stop at any time.”
Nia looked affronted. Bran stopped stirring and flew away as if Bridger had insulted him. Nia balled her tiny fists and shook; glitter spilled everywhere.
“You owe me so much butter!”
She flew into the bird cage. She slammed the tiny door closed and pull down the shade.
Pavel came over and swept back the curtains hiding the board.
“What was that about?”
“You insulted them.”
“How?”
Pavel picked up a notecard and wrote Leo’s name on it in big block letters and a question mark. He pinned it to the board and stepped back, head tilted, surveying the intricate mess of information.
“The pixies’ main purpose is to provide companionship, information, and care to the intermediary team. It’s their job. Even if they moan about it constantly.”
Oh. Oops. “They’re your family.”
“Yes. Now—” Pavel pointed to the card about the mermaids. “—Leo was at this event, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah. He was at the beach that day. He dove in with you to pull me out.”
Bridger stepped forward and looked at the chain of events. He tapped the Ozark Howler card. “He was on the football field during this too.”
“And he was at the Commons when the unicorn was loose?”
Worry began to gnaw at Bridger’s stomach. Leo was there at the unicorn sighting. That was three events. “Yeah, he was.”
But there were so many other happenings. He couldn’t have been at all of them. Could he?
Bridger trailed his gaze across the board and found the first event—the ghost who had appeared at the end of July. He gently touched the card. “Hey, Pavel? Do you know the date this happened?”
“Oh yes, it’s on the graph. Why?”
Bridger read the date. He knew that date. He knew it because that was the day Leo had mowed his lawn shirtless, the day after they had moved into the house across the street. The day Bridger had texted Astrid about his momentous realization.
“Oh, no.”