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I can’t help cracking a smile when she hands me the phone, displaying what’s obviously a Halloween party picture. “He’s really tall and built like a brick shithouse—definitely your type. It’s great that you found someone with a fun-loving personality to match yours. But why aren’t you in costume, too?”
“I’m not in costume because he’s not in costume.” Her expression is stone-cold serious when I look up from the image. “He’s an orc. For real.”
“Very funny, Ro.”
“Scroll backward and forward. You’ll see.”
There’s no way she’s serious. She’s setting me up for something.
“Nice try. No matter how much you rave about it, I do not want to see a picture of his dick. I’m happy to accept your word for it being enormous.”
“You have to see it to truly believe it, but you’re just going to have to take my word for it because there are no pictures of Dak’s dick.” She makes a swiping motion with her finger. “Scroll.”
“I just flew across the country, then drove up a damn mountain. I’m exhausted. Too drained to joke around. Can we please just go into town so I can clean up and relax? We can play your ‘I’m marrying a big green monster’ game later.”
“Just scroll,” she says, sighing. “Please.”
“Fine.” Since I’m already expecting more of the man-in-costume pics, it doesn’t surprise me when that’s what I see. Except, there are a lot. Like, a lot.
Based on the backgrounds and Ro’s various outfits, the pictures span multiple seasons. Her clothes range from her shop coveralls to jeans and sweaters, a puffy parka, shorts and tiny tanks, and plaid pajamas. There’s even one where they’re both wearing dressier clothes—Ro in a body-hugging purple dress and him in black slacks and a dress shirt. Dozens of photos, and in all of them, he’s green. Literally green. Head, hands, arms…green. Then there’s his flat, inhuman nose and distinctly pointy ears. Eyes so dark they appear completely black.
“I don’t understand,” I say, meeting her eyes. “This isn’t a joke? How can it be anything other than a joke?”
“The world we live in is home to many species of sentient beings. Some of them can pass as human and choose to live in the mainstream. Those that look different have to live in secret, sometimes in towns like Fate’s Falls, where they’re protected from outside threats.”
“This is insane, Ro. Either you’re playing the biggest joke of all time on me, or you’ve wandered past the edge of sanity, and I need to get you off this mountain and into therapy.”
“I’m perfectly sane, I promise. And not joking. Not lying.” She takes the phone from my trembling hand and stuffs in her pocket, then pulls me into a hug. “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you out here. I could’ve told you I’d gotten married after the fact. I could’ve kept everything from you for the rest of your life. If you want to turn around and go back home, I’ll understand.”
I ease back from her embrace so I can look at her. Inspect her. Ro has never had a good poker face, mostly because she doesn’t bother lying. She’s as transparent as they come. Transparent. I gasp, covering my mouth. “Are invisible people real?”
“Um…maybe? There are none in Fate’s Falls, but it’s not like we have one of every flavor on the monster menu.”
“You call them monsters? That doesn’t sound politically correct. Kind of seems like it’d be a derogatory slur.”
“Are you saying you believe me?” she asks, ignoring my question about whether it’s politically correct to call non-human species monsters. Her delusions are rubbing off on me.
Now I’m the one who needs therapy. “I don’t know what I believe.”
“That’s okay. This is a lot to take in.” Clasping both my hands, she nods. Gives me a gentle smile. “Do you want to see for yourself? In person. Not pictures on my phone.”
“See what? The monsters?” The laugh that bursts from me sounds like a crazed cackle. “Who should we see first? Bigfoot? A werewolf? Your orc fiancé?”
“How about a Minotaur?”
My snickering lips snap shut. Eyes wide, my blood flowing hot and cold at the same time, I turn toward the deep voice coming from behind me. “You,” I whisper. That’s all I can get out while standing face-to-face with a hulking creature who definitely isn’t human. But his voice… “Constantine?”
“Yes, Natalie, it’s me.”
It really is him. But how is it possible? Everything inside me says yes, that’s the man from the call. The man I’ve been thinking about nearly every waking minute for the past two days. The urge to go straight into his arms is overwhelming, as if that’s where I belong. Him being a hulking monster with horns and hooves doesn’t even bother me. Why doesn’t it bother me?
“I think she’s going into shock,” Ro says, wrapping her arm around my waist firmly. “We should head over to your place so she can lie down.”
“Good idea.” His amber eyes stay locked with mine. At the end of his wide, flat nose that leans toward being a bull-like snout, his black nostrils flare.
Is he…scenting me? Does he like the way I smell? God, I probably reek after a day full of traveling. Maybe Minotaurs don’t find sweat distasteful the way humans do? I have so many questions, the main one being why I’m struggling to stay away from him when all I want is to be wrapped up in his massive arms.
“Come on, Nat. I’ll drive your rental car. Constantine will meet us there. Then we can talk about everything while you’re comfortable and safe.”
