Becomes the Rose

Becomes the Rose

Pelaam

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Cover Artist: Reese Dante

Editor: Devin Govaere

Becomes the Rose © 2010 Pelaam

ISBN #
978-1-920468-99-6

All rights reserved.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. The Licensed Art Material is being used for illustrative purposes only; any person depicted in the Licensed Art Material, is a model.

PUBLISHER

http://www.silverpublishing.info

Dedication

For my partner,

who always said “I knew you could do it.”

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Rolls Royce Phantom
:
Daimler AG

Tarin
trudged
wearily
along
the
road.
He
was
lost
,
and
he
knew
it.
He
roundly
and
comprehensively
cursed
his
boyfriend
.
His
ex
-boyfriend.

Lexis had suggested they get away for a weekend. Tarin should have known it was destined for disaster when the date fell on Halloween. They’d recently split, but Lexis had wanted to keep the friendship and go on one of the camping trips they had enjoyed so much.

“Witches and curses,” Tarin muttered darkly under his breath. “Lexis will know a curse when I get my hands on him.”

Their relationship had been spiralling downwards at a rapid pace. Tarin could not explain it, but he had known Lexis was not The One. They had found plenty of mutual interests, including hiking and camping, and they’d enjoyed casual lovemaking. However, Tarin had realised very quickly that it was not enough.

“I should’ve kept the relationship platonic and just enjoyed the camping,” he sighed. “My own stupid fault.” He looked around. It was starting to get dark.

He and Lexis had been booked into a motel the previous night, but Tarin had insisted on single beds and been angry Lexis had booked a double. He then paid for a room of his own and a big argument had ensued. Tarin had not even been sure the trip would go ahead.

When he’d gotten up, however, Lexis had already left, taking the hired car. Tarin indulged in another round of heartfelt cursing. Because Lexis was the designated driver, Tarin hadn’t worried about his driver’s licence when packing. After Lexis left he found it was not where he had thought it would be, but he would worry about it when he got home. To add insult to injury, his cellphone battery was dead.

Now he was stuck in the middle of nowhere, unable to hire a car to get to civilisation; assuming he could have found a town to hire a car in.

The motel had been helpful, indicating the nearest place he might be able to catch a local bus into one of the bigger towns that had buses into the city. Just getting home was likely to take the whole weekend.

Tarin wondered where he could pitch his tent. He didn’t have much in his pack beyond dried fruit and nuts, some beef jerky, and a few bottles of water. If the trip had gone to plan, by now they should have passed through a town and stocked up on foods. The primus stove was in the car, so he couldn’t have anything hot. Tarin hoped his thermal bedroll and a small fire would be warm enough.

He gave a soul-deep groan.

Ahead the road was vanishing into mist. That was all he needed.

“Cold and wet is my world,” he muttered forlornly. He was surprised to find a tear slipping down his cheek. Resettling his camping gear securely on his back, he headed forward. He was not branching off into the woods in the fog.

He pulled out his flashlight as the fog closed in. It was a strange, eerie sensation. The mist felt neither cold nor wet. He was in it for several minutes before it vanished as suddenly as it descended.

He looked around. The forest had thinned totally, something he would not have expected so quickly. There were a few trees in a grouping on the left of the road and a single tree on the right. That tree inexplicably gave him the shivers. It was devoid of leaves, its bark dark and gnarled, and for all the world, it looked like an old, bent figure, with its arms reaching in supplication to the trees across the road.

“Hello there.”

Tarin
started
at
the
greeting
,
not
having
seen
the
figure
approach.
The
man
’
s
voice
was
dark
and
seductive
,
seemingly
modulated
to
go
straight
to
Tarin
’
s
groin.
He
gave
himself
a
mental
shake.
Let
’
s
not
go
there
,
he
admonished
himself.
He
was
in
enough
trouble.

He looked at the newcomer. The man was every bit as attractive as his voice suggested. Blond hair reached to his shoulders, and he had a well-trimmed goatee. Although tall and slender, he gave the impression of power and strength. However, it was his eyes that really caught Tarin’s attention, until he realised he was staring. The green gaze held a mesmerizing, almost indescribable quality that Tarin could easily become lost in.

“Hi,” Tarin said with a slightly nervous smile.

“We rarely get visitors. We’re… off the beaten track, so to speak,” the blond added with a smile. “My name is Anton.”

Tarin swallowed. Even in the gathering dusk, the newcomer’s teeth flashed white.

“I… er… I got lost, somehow,” Tarin offered, unsure whether he wanted to turn and flee or accept the offer implicit in those hypnotic eyes.

“You need a place to stay then. My Master has a small guest house.”

Tarin jumped nervously. He had not seen this newcomer either. However, he relaxed at the sight of a matronly woman who beamed at him.

“I guess I do at that. I’d love a bath, too, and a meal?” he added hopefully. “I have a credit card, but not my driver’s licence.”

“Let’s worry about all of that later, dear,” the woman said, hooking her arm around Tarin’s elbow. “It’s not often I get to have such a handsome young man on my arm.” She winked at him. “It’s this way.”

“I’ll be seeing you,” the blond said.

“Sure,” Tarin replied. He gave a small shudder. Somehow the words sounded more like a promise, or threat, than a farewell. Tarin gave himself a mental shake. He was getting overly spooked.

The woman’s voice cut into his thoughts. “Now we don’t hold much with exotic food here. It’ll be a rabbit stew with some vegetables. There are some apples that I can turn into a dessert, too,” she added.

“That’ll be wonderful,” Tarin said wholeheartedly. Hot food, a bath, and a bed for the night; paradise. Hopefully he could get the directions necessary to a town with a shuttle bus in the morning.

Tarin loved the bath. It was a long, deep, antique bath standing on clawed feet. He didn’t consider himself particularly tall, an inch or so less than six feet, yet sometimes modern baths seemed so cramped. He could stretch out fully in this beauty and idly wondered whether he would ever be able to afford one. Deciding that if he remained in the water much longer he would be a wrinkled prune, he eased from his watery haven.

He
perused
himself
critically
in
the
full
-
length
mirror.
His
chestnut
hair
,
normally
in
waves
,
hung
dark
and
straight
,
dripping
onto
his
shoulders.
He
had
a
modest
dusting
of
chest
hair
and
a
piercing
in
his
right
nipple.
He
was
slender
,
without
being
skinny
or
gangly
,
and
his
camping
activities
ensured
his
arms
and
lean
legs
were
also
toned.
He
looked
into
his
own
espresso
eyes
and
sighed.
He
spent
a
lot
of
time
in
groups
,
occasionally
giving
surreptitious
,
jealous
glances
a
t
couples
who
were
so
obviously
right
together.
His
parents
divorced
when
he
was
a
child
,
and
his
mother
remarried
twice
thereafter.
He
wondered
whether
that
was
why
he
needed
to
be
sure
he
had
found
the
Right
One
for
him.