4. Kalen

CHAPTER 4

KALEN

I stare at Olivia, this strangely alluring human who's suddenly appeared in my storeroom, and try to think.

More than alluring.

What I need is a plan. If I could just stop being distracted by the exposed flesh of her shoulder and arm... I push those thoughts aside. Focus, Kalen.

"Okay, em, Olivia," I say, flashing my most reassuring smile. "I have an idea. I'm going to get everyone out to the new patio area, then we'll sneak you upstairs. That will be step one at least. Sound good?"

She nods, still looking a little wild-eyed and like she might bolt at any second. But I think that's kind of expected and I can't say I blame her. Thankfully, I think she's realized that there is nowhere to bolt to .

"Great. Just stay put for a few minutes, alright? Deep breaths, okay? We'll figure this out."

How, I have no idea.

Just before I head up, she speaks. "So, Kalen, I mean. Let's pretend you are not a figment of my imagination. Then that would mean magic, and all those beasts ... and fairies ... it's all real? "

"Of course, it's all real ..."

For a split second I see a hint of a smile on her face. "Well, I have to admit, I mean, if I'm not nuts, that that would be pretty cool. Fascinating, as a matter of fact."

"Then prepare to be fascinated." I give her wink for good measure before I head back up the stairs, my mind racing.

Gods but I need to talk to Thokk or Elowen, but that'll have to wait. Right now, I just need to get Olivia somewhere safe without causing a scene. I still have the exotic dancer excuse to fall back on, but that's a last resort.

I take a deep breath, plastering on my most winning smile as I head back out into the bar. Time to work some Kalen magic.

"Alright, folks!" I call out, clapping my hands. "Monsters, what are you doing in here? The real party is in the new beer garden. I didn't sink a fortune into getting it built for nothing! Let's go! First round outside is on the house!"

A cheer goes up, and soon I've got most of the patrons herded outside. Perfect. Now I just need to—

"Kalen, my good man!"

I turn to see Fiddle, the gnome, who just hopped up a stool and is eagerly leaning over the bar.

Great. Not.

"What can I do for you, Fid?" I ask, trying not to sound impatient – or annoyed.

"About that Cubicles and Chihuahuas campaign ..." he starts, and I have to fight the urge to groan.

"Rain check, okay?" I interrupt, patting him on the shoulder." Got a bit of a situation in the cellar. You understand. Please, enjoy the beer garden. I will try to catch up to you later, okay?"

He nods sagely. "Ah yes, the trials of running an establishment. Well, when you're free—"

But I'm already moving, heading back to where I left Olivia. I find her pacing, muttering to herself random phrases ...

"That's enough knowledge ... time to go back," and then "cancel, cancel, cancel!"

What in the nine hells?

"Umm Olivia, you okay?" I ask, trying to sound both soothing and reassuring. "Coast is clear. Let's get you upstairs."

But no sooner do we get out onto the main bar room floor than I hear loud drunken voices coming around the corner from the main entryway.

Troll spit.

"Quick!" I hiss, guiding Olivia behind the bar. "Lay down in here!" I lift her to lay under the lip of the bar, literally laying directly under where the patrons sit up against it. "Stay here and don't make a sound."

She nods, wide-eyed, as I straighten up behind the bar just in time to greet the newcomers.

"Borgin! Grunk! What brings you boys in so late? Don't you want to go out into the new beer garden?"

The two orcs lumber up to the bar, already three sheets to the wind by the looks of it.

"Nah, I can see you got those fairy lights up... they make me dizzy," Grunk slurs.

"Well, we wouldn't want that," I say, trying to figure out how to get rid of them.

"No, we wouldn't. We came here because we know it'll be a human-free zone!" Borgin announces to the empty bar.

"Oh, is that a thing now?" My heart sinks.

"It damn well should be! You heard about that human?" Borgin grunts. "Living with Thokk now. It ain't right. Ain't orc-like you ask me."

I feel a flash of protectiveness, both for Zoe and the woman currently hiding under my bar. This is exactly what I was worried about. "Now, now," I say smoothly. "Let's not judge too hastily. Thokk seems happy, doesn't he?"

Grunk snorts. "Happy? He's gone soft. What's next, inviting the whole human world over for tea?"

I laugh, though it feels forced. "Come on, you know Thokk. Soft isn't exactly in his vocabulary. How about a round on the house, eh? To new beginnings?"

"To a human-free zone!" Borgin slurs.

Things are getting worse and worse.

As I pour out my strongest ale, Grunk grabs something off the bar.

"What the hell is this?"

It must have spilled out of Fiddle's pocket or something, I realize as I make out the object in his hand.

"It's a twenty-sided die."

"Oh, from Cubicles and Chihuahuas?" Grunk eyes it.

"Those nerds," Borgin interjects. "Roll for drunkenness!"

Without another word, Grunk casts it across the bar as they both erupt into raucous laughter.

Orcs aren't known for their sophisticated humor.

It clatters and rolls until it falls right over the edge, landing right in front of Olivia. Our eyes lock, even as I notice her eyes go wide at the sight of the die. But she doesn't move or even make a sound. But again, I feel that wave of excitement hit me for that instant. It's like we are in on some secret together that no one knows about. Even though we only just met, it feels like we have shared the secret for years. The effect is only heightened when we both realize the orc has rolled a twenty.

Congratulations Grunk, you have rolled for max drunkenness.

But they have both already forgotten about the die and have returned to arguing about what they seem to think of as the human scourge of late. Thankfully, they really are that drunk, and I breathe a sigh of relief as they soon stumble out, but my reprieve is short-lived. More customers arrive, and soon the bar is bustling again.

I shouldn't complain. It seems the beer garden is an overwhelming success. But, gods, the timing of all this couldn't be worse.

Hours pass, and guilt and worry still gnaws at me. Poor Olivia, cramped under there. But I have little choice. I am still a bit nervous she may be discovered, so I artfully pile some crates behind the bar to further conceal her, just in case.

Finally, mercifully, the last patron leaves. I lock up, then rush back to Olivia.

"I'm so sorry," I start, but the words die in my throat.

She's dead asleep, and actually looks comfortably so. She's pulled in some clean bar rags to use as a pillow, and overall looks remarkably relaxed. Something tugs at my heart. She looks adorable. She's so small, so vulnerable. Before I know what I'm doing, I scoop her up gently in my arms and head toward my private rooms.

She stirs slightly as I carry her upstairs. "No maze," she mumbles. "No bad minotaur ..."

"No maze," I whisper back, bemused. "And, I'm a good minotaur," I whisper. She rearranges herself in my arms and buries her head in my chest as I bring her into my bedroom. I can't help but lower my head into her hair to breathe in her intoxicating scent. It's an odd combination of honeydew and ... dusty books? I focus on the honey dew.

I tuck her into my oversized armchair, draping a soft blanket over her. It easily fits her little human frame comfortably. On impulse, I leave a glass of milk on the side table.

Humans like milk, right? If only I knew the human secrets of coffee brew. It is well known, even among monster kind that it is their favorite drink, said to hold almost mystical restorative properties. Milk will have to do.

As I head to my own bed, and can finally relax a little and think, my mind begins to race. How the hell did she get in my storage? It can't be coincidence. They still didn't really understand how Zoe got in the watchtower either. But the implication is clear. It must be related to Elowen's "failed" mate summoning spell. No this is no coincidence. And that means it was probably no failure ... But wait ... my mate? This small little human. So smooth and pink? With her flowing long curls of reddish brown, and her scent of honeydew ... and old books. Could it be?

But I know the answer. Of course I do.

My mate.

The thought sends a thrill through me, equal parts excitement and terror.

No, this is crazy talk. I'm Kalen, Charmer of all, but charmed by none. I don't do the whole 'mate' thing. It's too much responsibility, too much ... feeling. Gods, nine hells, and Bramble's balls all at once, but do I need to talk to Thokk.

And yet, as I drift off to sleep, I can't shake the warmth in my chest at knowing she's here, safe under my roof.

What have I gotten myself into?