While You Were Creeping Read online

  Just not in that bed.

  I gathered new sheets and spread them across my lounger in the living room. I’d been sleeping here for weeks. Just couldn’t bring myself to sleep in the bed where Kye’s scent of mint and oranges lingered, gradually fading as each day passed without him here.

  Laying there in the dark, no more Christmas decorations to light the place up, I reached for my comm again and checked the calendar. Only seven more days until my appointment.

  “Dad,” I’d said a few days after New Year’s, “I have a favor to ask and I don’t even know if it’s possible, but I’ll hate myself if I don’t try.”

  “Whatever it is, I’ll do my best to help, hon,” he’d replied, setting aside his carving tools.

  “Remember when I asked you about interdimensional prisons and you said it was a specialized federal unit that handled stuff like that?”

  He slowly nodded.

  “Can you put me in touch with them?”

  “This about Kye?”

  My chest twinged whenever someone said his name.

  Where’s Kye?

  What happened to Kye?

  When’s Kye visiting again?

  Only Mom and Aunt Gretta had known the truth up to that point. They’d been standing there when he poofed into thin air. There was no way they would’ve let me leave the lodge without explaining what the hell happened.

  I’d spilled my guts about everything. The deal, the lie, the fact that Kye started out as my fake boyfriend but somewhere along the way, it turned into something real.

  The realest thing I’d ever experienced in my life.

  I punched my pillow, trying to get comfortable, and then shut my eyes. Tonight, I wouldn’t cry.

  I wouldn’t.

  ****

  “I’d love it if I could stop napping,” I yawned, draping myself across the island down in the big kitchen while Mom made us some tea.

  “Darling, you look like you just crawled out of the grave.”

  “Wow, is that something you should say to your favorite—and only—daughter?”

  She sat on the stool beside me and poured us both a hot cuppa.

  “Have you eaten? There’re some leftover biscuits the twins made.”

  I groaned, the thought of food making my stomach gurgle like it was about to pack up and exit my body. “No, thank you. I’m just slogging through these essays. Late nights.”

  Mom did her squinty eye as she watched me, daintily sipping her tea. “Holly, are you pregnant?”

  I’m so glad I didn’t have a mouth full of tea, else I would’ve spit it out. I laughed tiredly.

  “What?! No. I’m on the...”

  Wait a second...

  The air flattened out of me as I grabbed my comm and pulled up my calendar, swiping to last month.

  December 8 at 5pm: Doctor’s appointment. Restriction serum renewal.

  December eighth... that was the day after Kye showed up. I’d been so flustered, I’d missed my renewal shot.

  It wasn’t something I thought about, you know? I hadn’t had real sex in years. Real sex as in not-battery-operated-toy-kind-of-sex. The serum hadn’t been a thought in my mind for a long-ass time.

  I stared into the middle distance, working out the dates. It’d been weeks. It was completely possible. And, unlike those useless ullek disks predicted, I hadn’t gotten my menses.

  “Oh fuck.”

  Aunt Gretta swept into the kitchen and kissed me on the forehead. “Mouse, you look like shit. What’s wrong?”

  “Jesus, I get it,” I bitched, already tired of being told I looked bad.

  Mom set down her teacup and smirked. “She’s pregnant.”

  “What?!” Gretta squawked.

  What was right.

  As in what. The. Fuck.

  ****

  A test confirmed it.

  Two tests confirmed it.

  And five more after that also confirmed it.

  I’m pregnant.

  Oh my fucking stars, I’m pregnant!

  I stared at myself in the mirror and, yes, I did look like shit. My skin was paler than normal, the circles under my eyes were dark, and my hair was a ratty mess I’d tied into a bun just to get it out of my face.

  My hands trembled when I lifted my baggy sweatshirt and turned to the side, examining my belly.

  A shaky exhale left me when I didn’t see any crazy changes. I didn’t know what I expected. Maybe for my belly to move and stretch like an alien was growing in there.

  Well, I mean, there was an alien growing in there. Or so the eight tests said. Maybe I needed a ninth just to make sure.

  I pulled my sweatshirt back down and nervously scratched at the nape of my neck.

  “What am I going to do?”

  Panic set in.

  I couldn’t do this.

  I couldn’t fucking do this.

  How was I going to raise a youngling whose father was imprisoned eleven months out of the year?

  How shitty would that be for Kye? For the youngling?

  For me?

  Every year he’d wake, cram in some daddy time and then, when the next December rolled around, the kid would be another year older.

  He might get to see the babe take their first steps, say their first words, eat their first soft foods.

  He wouldn’t be there for their first day of school.

  He wouldn’t be there for their graduation.

  He likely wouldn’t be around whenever they got their heart broken for the first time and just needed someone to listen.

  He’d likely miss every major and minor event in the youngling’s life.

  I buried my face in my hands.

  “I’m such an idiot,” I whispered.

  It was all too much. An overload of emotion and everything seemed impossible. I needed to talk to someone. Needed to work it all out before I made a decision that would affect multiple lives.

  When I walked into Dr. Molina’s office that evening, I lowered myself onto her beige, boring couch and immediately burst into tears.

  “Thanks for seeing me on short notice. And I’m sorry,” I blubbered. “It might be the hormones, but it’s probably just plain old me crying like a fool.”

  I told you, I’m a mess.

  “Holly, are you alright? You look—”

  “Like shit? I know, you’re not the first to think that.”

  “I was going to say, you seem like something heavy is weighing on you.”

  Her voice was soothing and the small pinch between her sleek dark brows was the only wrinkle on her face, but that tiny wrinkle conveyed a message of care and concern.

  It felt nice, being back in this neutral toned office where nothing was too colorful or outlandish. Just... normal.

  I could use a little normal.

  “First, tell me what’s changed in your life. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  Everything.

  Everything changed.

  I word vomited everything from start to finish. About Kye, about Dasha, Amelie, Perry, and the wedding. About berchtas and how I thought his imprisonment was unfair, the deal, the lie, and the very real baby that now took up residence in my uterus.

  By the time I was finished, I felt like a wrinkled balloon. All the hot air had petered out of me and my shoulders sagged.

  Dr. Molina leaned forward, carefully asking, “You haven’t checked your ex’s social threads? And you’re no longer flushing toilets?”

  I laughed, the sound exhausted as I wiped at my cheeks. The dumbest thing happened. I’d been so busy falling for Kye that my compulsive habits had died a slow death.

  “Funny thing is,” I sniffled, “I’d gladly go back to flushing toilets if it meant I didn’t have to feel this way anymore.”

  “And you say you love this man, Kye?”

  I accepted another tissue to add to my growing mountain of them. “Yes. I’m stupidly in love with him.”

  I couldn’t love a normal guy off the street. Someone physical
ly here and touchable, someone I could build a life with.

  No, I fell in love with an imprisoned, Krampus-looking, kindhearted, funny, foul-mouthed, unavailable-eleven-months-out-of-the-year alien.

  “Good.”

  I wiped my nose again. “Good? No, this is bad.”

  Dr. Molina moved closer and sat on the couch beside me. “I’m going to tell you something and I hope you’ll hear me out.”

  My stomach muscles immediately clinched.

  “I am the great, great niece of Neoma.”

  The breath shot out of me when I immediately stood and took a step back. “What did you just say?”

  “I’m a berchta. We may look like humans, but we have longer lifespans. And other abilities.”

  “But...” my brain screeched to a halt before it fired up and ran a marathon. “He said witches have glowing green eyes. Your eyes don’t glow.”

  “Not to you, no. Humans don’t have the proper eyesight for it. Kye’s kind does.”

  Kye’d never seen my therapist. I hadn’t visited her since the first day of December, before he was even a presence in my life.

  “What’re you saying?”

  “I’m not really like my family. I’ve never believed in pocket prisons, but when I inherited Kye from my late mother, I needed time to find a way to help him.”

  “Help him? Why didn’t you just free him?”

  She stood, folding her arms and moving past the windows. “I felt that if I freed Kye immediately, he’d spend the rest of his life resenting the time he’d lost. He’d never truly be free.”

  An incredulous laugh escaped me. “You head shrunk Kye?”

  She pursed her lips, hiding a smile. “What can I say, except it’s what I do.”

  Okay, she had a point.

  “When you came into my office a few months ago, soon after our sessions started, I had a thought.” Her clear forest-colored gaze slid to me and she tilted her head as if to ask for understanding. “You suffered from a vicious cycle with a narcissistic ex and it was affecting every part of your life, even your prior love of Christmas.”

  “You don’t have to remind me,” I lamely mumbled.

  “Kye was in a similar cycle, but with ghosts of the past and different enough from yours that, if I put you together under questionable circumstances, maybe, just maybe, your collision would be big enough to shove you both off your personal hellish merry-go-rounds. And if you ended up liking each other, well...” She shrugged, and a small smile tugged her lips to the side. “Even better.”

  I shook my head, digesting everything she’d just said. “So the elves...”

  “Yes, that was me as well,” she admitted. “All I wanted was for two of my clients—even if Kye was only a client by unfortunate circumstance and because he wasn’t able to avoid me—to find ways to heal.” She swept a hand toward me. “And it sounds like you have.”

  “Not really. I’ve only swapped one hell for another. Thanks, now I just cry all the time, but I can do that anywhere. And I do mean anywhere. The classroom, at the café, in the kitchen, on the street, in the transport—literally anywhere. I seem like more of a nutjob now than when I was flushing toilets.”

  “Holly, that’s what I’m trying to tell you.” She moved closer and slowly reached out to rest her hands on my shoulders, carefully, giving me time to step back in case I didn’t want her to touch me. “I want Kye free, just like you.”

  “You’d help us?” My whooshing pulse grew so loud in my ears that I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to hear whatever she said next.

  “At midnight, set the crystal underneath the four moons. Midnight, no later, and Kye will be free.”

  She became blurry in my eyes and then I realized the waterworks had started again. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” I swiped my cheeks with my sweater. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me anymore.”

  Dr. Molina warmly smiled and gave my shoulders another squeeze. “Go enjoy your life, Holly.”

  ****

  As I sat in a deck chair, I could hear the old-fashioned clock in the great room chiming.

  Ding... ding... ding... it went, striking twelve. Midnight. Exactly what Dr. Molina instructed.

  I couldn't take my eyes off the cube. It sat on the wrought iron table, directly underneath Dor Nye’s four big moons. The night sky was clear, moonlight bright and making the snowy backyard sparkle like glitter.

  My breaths puffed in front of my face and my hands shook. It wasn’t from the cold but nerves.

  What if this didn’t work?

  The clock chimed it's twelfth and final time. I held my breath.

  The cube glowed momentarily before it quickly died, winking to nothing, but... none of the familiar static followed.

  The static that signaled Kye moving from that dimension to this one. It had been a signature strangeness the few times he’d done it.

  The cube cracked.

  I jumped out of my chair and grabbed it.

  Another crack.

  And another.

  “No, no, no, please stop!”

  This couldn’t be good!

  It cracked again and slowly crumbled into a pile of glittering dust in my gloved hands.

  “No!” I cried, “Please no.”

  I panicked, cupping the pulverized crystal that continued to slip through my fingers and disintegrate into the bone chilling wind, until nothing was left when I peeked into my cupped hands.

  A hot lump lodged itself in my throat as I frantically tried to understand what just happened.

  My hands pressed against my chest that once again felt as if it were caving in. Someone was squeezing my heart and I was sure it would burst and kill me.

  I did everything Dr. Molina said. Everything!

  What happened—

  “I love you too.”

  I closed my eyes, hot saltwater slipping past my lashes and growing cold on my cheeks as I calmly turned.

  “Please be real.” If it were my imagination, I couldn’t take it.

  “Holly, open your eyes.”

  “No. I’m afraid you’re just in my head and I’ve finally gone bonkers.”

  Warm, rough hands cupped my cheeks and thumbs brushed the cold aside.

  “I’m real. I’m here. And I’m never leaving.”

  I opened my eyes.

  Kye gazed down at me, so close, so warm, and still in his tuxedo, as if no time had passed since New Year’s. I reached up to run my hands over his chest and curl my fingers into his jacket lapels.

  No one could make me let go.

  Then it registered. He said I love you too. “You heard me?”

  A grin tugged at his mouth, his tusks making it appear goofy, endearing me further. God, I missed that wacky smile.

  “Aye, I did. And I’m telling you now, I love you Holly Zax, and you’re stuck with my annoying, furry ass until I’m dead and six feet under. Do you hear me?”

  I laughed. Wholeheartedly laughed but I heard him. I heard him and agreed with every thread of my being as I bobbed my head like a dope.

  I tugged and tugged, standing on my tiptoes to meet him halfway for a much-needed kiss.

  This. This every day. I could never give this up. Never again.

  Except—

  “I’m pregnant,” I blurted against his lips, effectively breaking the kiss.

  Kye pulled back, his eyes darting from my face to my stomach and back again.

  “Are you yanking my horns?”

  Suddenly nerves hit me, and sarcasm bubbled out of me even though I didn't mean it to. “I only do that when I want you to screw me.”

  The grin was back, and Kye grabbed my arms and spread them as if he wanted to get a look at me with fresh eyes.

  “I’m gonna be a dad? No fucking shit?!”

  “Yes. And we should probably start using replacement swear words, like fork and bull shark.”

  He tossed back his head and laughed, frosty breath huffing into the air before he returned his attention to me.

 
“How’re you feeling? Is this something you want?”

  “With you. Yes, I want it with you.”

  If I wasn’t mistaken, Kye’s exhale seemed to be one of relief before he hugged me again and declared, “You make me so forking happy, you know?”

  I cracked up, burying my face into his shoulder. Kye held me in a way that felt fragile and crushing at once. Like I was something precious, but he was greedy enough to squeeze just a little tighter.

  “But how?” he asked, pulling back. His red-flecked turquoise eyes peering into mine, full of questions. “How did you free me?”

  “Well,” I began, prepared to tell him all about how my meddling therapist was actually the same berchta who’d been in possession of his prison, as he tucked me into his side and guided me toward the house.

  I couldn’t help but loop my arm around his waist and squeeze, willing him to never disappear again.

  “It all started with my bizarre compulsion to flush toilets.”

  EPILOGUE

  The following December...

  HOLLY

  “You sure you’re not here just to sneak across the street to The Bowl?” Kye side-eyed me after he stole baby Jovie, named after one of his brothers from long ago.

  “Me? The Bowl?” I snorted and brushed him off. “It’s not like I go there every day or something.”

  Kye canted his head. I hated it when he did that. He saw right through me.

  “You do.”

  “Not every day!”

  “Every day for the past two weeks.”

  “Okay, stalker.” I turned away so he couldn’t see my exasperated smile and fiddled with one of his new designs. “Maybe I just wanted to visit my husband at work. How’s business?”

  “You know exactly how business is.” I didn’t even have to turn around to know he had a shit-eating grin on his face. “I knew you were here for The Bowl!”

  “Gah!” I tossed my hands in the air and whirled around. “I’ve just had this insatiable craving for their hot cocoa. It’s liquid gold and I just wanna bathe in it while I munch on unhealthy amounts of their chocolate dipped pretzels.”

  “You fucking—”

  “Aht-aht!”

  “You forking weirdo,” he amended with an exaggerated eye roll. “Jovie can’t even understand what I’m saying yet.”

  “Yes he can. Maybe. I don’t really know, but I don’t want his first word to be shit, fuck, or damn.”