Fantasyland 03 Fantastical (29 page)

When he lifted up, he started to my
bedroom.

“Tor!” I snapped.

“I’ll dress, go to this store and be back in
a minute.”

“Tor!” I repeated, my voice rising and I
stomped to the bedroom doorway.

Tor had his back to me and was whipping off
the towel. I saw his sculpted, fine ass and decided, what the fuck?
He wanted to use Cora’s money? I’d let him.

Then I ran to the kitchen.

* * * * *

When Tor got back from the market, he
brought with him eggs and a packet of bacon.

However, considering he carried three bags
in each hand, I knew he bought much more.

“Jeez, did you buy everything in the store?”
I asked as I followed him to the kitchen.

“This store is curious. Everything is
wrapped. You cannot see the wares you’re buying except, in some
cases, through little windows. How do you know all is as it should
be?” he asked, pulling out a box of donuts then a bag of chips then
out came a gargantuan candy bar.

“You just do,” I told him. “If it isn’t,
it’s against the law, I think. False advertising or something.”

He turned his head to look at me.

“Curious,” he muttered, pulling out a stick
of beef jerky.

Oh boy.

“I’m taking a shower,” I announced.

At my words, slowly, his head turned to me,
his eyes unfocused and directed at my body, then they lifted to
mine and he smiled.

It was wicked.

I ran to the bathroom and when I got there,
I locked the door.

* * * * *

After breakfast (eggs, bacon, toast and
donuts), I took Tor to the mall.

This was a bizarre experience.

I had figured it would be fascinating to him
and he’d be looking around, wide-eyed and amazed.

But like everything else, he took it in
stride and acted just like a man. He strolled through the corridors
with his arm around my shoulders and followed me through the stores
intent on one thing: getting his clothes and getting the fuck out
of there.

I guessed Tor wasn’t into shopping.

He took wads of the other Cora’s cash with
him and we bought him jeans, tees, shirts, underwear, socks, pajama
bottoms, boots and running shoes. We also bought him a money clip,
a comb, a brush and an electric razor (the last being the only
thing he showed even the slightest bit of interest in).

We were loaded down with bags, him carrying
the heavier ones, and headed back to the car when I noticed
something strange.

People were staring at us.

If they were simply staring at Tor, I
wouldn’t have been surprised. He was a big guy, he had a scar, not
to mention, he was hot. But they weren’t just looking at him (well,
some of the women were). They were looking
at us.

I was trying to figure out why when Tor
spoke.

“Your clothing yesterday, love, I must say,
was not to my taste. But today, what you’re wearing…” I tipped my
head to look up at him to see he was looking down at me. “Your
hair,” he went on, “what you’ve done with your face. I like
it.”

I quickly looked away.

I’d gone all out telling myself it was
because I missed my stuff and anyway, we were going to my folks for
dinner that night so I had to look nice. The truth of it was, I had
planted myself firmly in denial to the fact that I’d dressed for
Tor.

I was wearing a cute little lilac dress with
a tiered, full skirt that hit me at the knees, a low, square
neckline and cap sleeves, over it a thin, dusty blue cardigan and a
pair of spike-heeled, very strappy purple sandals. I’d blown out my
hair and put on light makeup.

Then he capped it by muttering, “You’re by
far the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in this world.” My step
stuttered, his arm tightened around my shoulders to steady me and
he murmured, “All right?”

“Yes,” I lied.

But I was not.

We were at a mall and there were a number of
hot babes there, including several who’d waited on him in stores,
practically pushing each other out of the way, I might add, even
with
me
standing
right there.
Not to mention the fact
that he’d been out all day yesterday and clearly seen a number of
people.

Knowing that, it was the nicest compliment
anyone had ever given me.

Then he said, as if to himself, his eyes
taking in the eyes of the other patrons taking us in, “This makes
me wonder…” He trailed off and didn’t continue.

“What?” I asked.

“Mm?” he asked back.

“What makes you wonder?”

He squeezed my shoulders and said
distractedly, “Nothing, my sweet.”

I watched his face and saw he looked as
distracted as he sounded.

I let it go, we made it to the car, loaded
it up and went to the grocery store.

Tor had far more interest in the grocery
store and we perused every aisle, Tor picking up stuff, studying
it, reading labels, turning it in his hands and tossing it into the
cart if it held any interest to him at all.

I knew Tor liked his food. When we were at
the castle, the meals were sumptuous, there was always dessert and
his portions were manly.

But when our cart in the grocery store was
filled to the point we needed another one, I felt the need to
intervene.

“Tor, this is a lot of food.”

“Indeed,” he said, studying a bag of spiral
pasta.

“We have no way of knowing how long you’re
going to be in this world and it’ll take
me
a year to eat
all of this,” I pointed out and his eyes sliced to me.

“If I go back, you’ll be coming with me,” he
declared.

“We don’t know that,” I replied.

“If I go back, you’ll be coming with me,” he
repeated, more firmly this time and with his face set hard.

I didn’t want to have an incident in the
grocery store, which, by the set look on his face, I was pretty
sure we would have if I told him that firstly, he couldn’t know
that and secondly, I didn’t want to go back with him, not
anymore.

So instead, I said, “Okay.”

He scowled at me then threw the pasta in the
cart.

I rushed to get another one.

We loaded the car full to bursting with our
grocery purchases and on the way home, my cell rang. The display
said, “Noc.”

“Excellent, your gadget is sounding,” Tor
noted.

“Not excellent, Tor!” I cried, holding it
out to show him the display, thankful we were stopped at a red
light. “It’s Noc!”

His eyes slid to the display then to me.
“Noc?”

“The other you!” I exclaimed.

“Is it necessary for you to answer it?” he
asked logically.

“Uh… no.”

“Then don’t answer it.”

Good advice.

It quit ringing but binged a few seconds
later, telling me I had a voicemail.

I flipped it open in order to listen to the
voicemail.

“What are you doing?” Tor asked, executing a
perfect left hand turn.

“Listening to voicemail,” I told him.

“To what?”

“Sh!” I hissed. “He’s left a message.”

“Cory,” Noc said in my ear, “I’m standing in
your apartment and you’re not here. What the fuck is goin’ on? I
got shit to do. I’ll be back tonight. You get this, call me.” The
last was growled.

Noc was not happy.

Oh dear.

And I’d forgotten about him having a
key.

“What was his message?” Tor enquired.

“He’s at the apartment. He has a key. He
says he’s leaving but coming back tonight. Tonight! What do we
do?”

“First, we deal with his access. How do we
do that?”

“Uh… get my landlord to change the lock. But
he’s lazy and returns phone calls about a millennium after you
leave a message. He’ll never do it by tonight.”

“Why does he have to do it?”

“Because I don’t know how and he owns the
building.”

“We can’t wait a millennium,” Tor pointed
out.

“I know, Tor!” I cried.

“Calm down, sweets, how difficult is this
lock changing?”

“I don’t know that either, I don’t know how
to do it.”

“In this world, there are vendors who sell
everything. In fact, outside of houses and places to eat, that’s
practically all there is in this world. Is there a place where we
can purchase what we require?”

Jeez, it sucked that Tor was the sensible
and logical one, even in my world.

“Yes, the hardware store,” I informed
him.

“Tell me how to get there, we’ll acquire
what we need and I’ll change your lock. He won’t have access, one
problem solved.”

Yep, it sucked that Tor was the sensible and
logical one, even in my world.

“Turn right at the second light,” I
replied.

He turned right at the second light then
into the silence he called, “Cora?”

“Yes,” I answered the side window.

I felt his strong fingers give my thigh a
firm squeeze and he murmured, “My love, everything will be all
right.”

He couldn’t know that either.

But I didn’t tell him that.

I stayed silent and directed him to the
hardware store.

* * * * *

Tor refused to allow me to carry the bags up
to the apartment (two flights!), informing me, “Men do manual
labor. Women do not unless they’re servants or common.”

I glared at him then let him do it. He
wanted to lug a gazillion shopping bags and a million pounds of
groceries up two flights of stairs? That was okay by me.

I turned on music and got out the toolbox my
father bought me when I moved out of my parents’ house. I’d used
the hammer and a couple screwdrivers but other than that, the set
of tools in it were nearly new.

After Tor brought up the stuff, I handed him
the toolbox, he perused it with some interest and I put all his
clothes and the groceries away while he inspected the lock and
then, like all things Tor, changed it without any ado.

He was testing it when I wandered to my
answering machine because I saw it blinking. The numerical display
said I had two messages. I stood by the box, hit the button and
Noc’s (in other words, Tor’s) voice filled the room and I watched
Tor still as he listened to it.

“Cory? Hope you’re feelin’ better, babe. On
my way over. See you in five.”

“Is that me?” Tor asked.

“No,” I answered and his eyes went from the
answering machine to me.

“No, sweets, I mean the other me,” he
explained.

“Then, yes,” I replied and the next message
came on.

It was my friend Selena.

“Got your message and just wanna say, don’t
call back ‘cause I got your
other
message loud and clear. I
can’t believe you have the balls to call me after you did what you
did. Don’t call back, Cora,
ever.
”

I stood frozen to the spot, staring at my
machine.

“Cora?” Tor called.

I didn’t move.

I felt his hand on my back. “Cora, who was
that?”

“My…” My nose started stinging, oh shit, I
was going to cry again! Damn the other Cora! “My friend,
Selena.”

“Love –”

“What’d she do?” I whispered, staring at the
answering machine.

“Sweets –”

I looked up at him, tears swimming in my
eyes and whispered again, “What’d she do?”

Then a tear fell, then another because I
could tell my parents (maybe) that I’d been in another world but I
couldn’t tell my friends. They’d never believe me, they’d think I
was insane or making crazy excuses for whatever the other Cora
did.

And whatever Cora did, it sounded bad and I
knew from experience Cora’s bad was the worst that bad could
be.

Tor pulled me to the couch, sat down in it
with me and gathered me in his arms. I pressed into his chest and
held onto him while the tears fell silently.

“I hope I never meet her,” I whispered after
awhile.

“I hope you don’t either, love, it’s rarely
a pleasant experience.”

After he spoke, for some reason, I just sat
there, cradled by Tor and thought about the fact that none of my
other friends had bothered to call back, knowing now what that
meant. Then I tried to think of how to rectify whatever happened.
Then I realized I was right back where I started in Bellebryn when
Tor first took me there. But this time, it wasn’t a bunch of people
I didn’t know who hated me, it was a bunch of people I cared about.
A lot.

I sighed into Tor’s chest.

Tor murmured, “This musician is a poet,” and
I lifted my head and looked at him.

“What?” I asked.

His eyes came to my face then his hand came
to my face and he used his thumb to wipe away the wetness as he
answered quietly, “That song that was just coming from your box,”
he tipped his head to my stereo, “the musician is a poet.”

I tilted my head to the side because I’d
been so deep in thought I hadn’t heard what was playing. Then I
twisted and reached for my stereo remote in the side table drawer.
I used it to go back to the song before the one playing and the
guitar strums of The Dave Matthews Band’s “Crash into Me”
started.

I looked up at Tor who was studying the
remote, he felt my eyes, his came to mine and I smiled.

“I love this song,” I told him.

His eyes dropped to my mouth then without a
word he slid the remote out of my hands and tucked my face back to
his chest.

Held by Prince Noctorno Hawthorne on my
sofa, in my world I listened to a beautiful, sexy song.

When it was over, almost immediately the
guitar strums sounded again (clearly Tor had mastered the stereo
remote) and we listened yet again, the words washing over me and I
heard them not for the first time but I heard their meaning for the
first time – they were words full of yearning, passion, admiration
and a love that sounded like worship.

And again, when it was over, the guitar
strums came back but when they did this time, Tor dropped the
remote on the side table, pulled me out of the couch, put his hands
to my hips and slid them around so he could fit me into his
arms.