Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Roxy

Home.

That was the thought, the feeling, that overwhelmed me the second the heavy wooden door pushed open, and my apartment came into view.

All of the tension that had been clinging to me, all of the exhaustion, the throbbing in my feet, the pounding dehydration headache in my temples, it all fell away as I stepped into the familiar space.

It wasn't my apartment.

Logically, I knew that.

This was some sort of spell meant to look exactly like it. The image likely conjured from my very mind, my every desire.

But knowing that didn't change the feeling of comfort that enveloped me as I moved toward my familiar couch, still covered in the pillows and blanket that I'd left behind the night that Nathaniel had tricked his way inside.

I was sweating, but I still reached for the blanket, needing the familiarity, the comfort.

I knew it had only been a few days since I'd been home, but the homesickness that took over me had tears pricking my eyes as my gaze slid to the TV, finding that it had magically paused the program I'd been watching last.

As I thought that, the show started to play, pulling me back into the plot line that had started to get hazy with so many other things on my mind.

"Roxy, it's a spell," Nathaniel said from somewhere behind me.

I knew he was right, I did.

But I didn't care as I kicked out of my shoes, as I pulled my throbbing feet up onto the couch to let them rest.

There were no vines here trying to wrap around me. No thorns digging into my skin.

There was just comfort and familiarity.

I was going to go ahead and soak that up.

"Roxanne!" I heard my name called, but it sounded further away, muffled for some reason, as I got sucked into my show.

It called again, some time later as I picked at chips and a soda that appeared out of nowhere, but it sounded even further away.

Nothing I needed to worry about, surely.

Episode rolled into episode as I got lost in my binge.

It wasn't until there was a short silence in the show that I heard the soft echo of it again.

"Roxy!"

Huh.

That voice sounded familiar, didn't it?

I slid my legs off of the couch, staring down at the sneakers on the floor, trying to place them.

I didn't have sneakers like that. Ones meant for walking or running.

I didn't have exercise-focused items in my wardrobe at all.

Even as I thought it, though, the yoga pants I was wearing grabbed my attention.

A memory threatened, but it was like it was being held back behind some thick fog, inaccessible.

"Roxy!"

My gaze slid up, taking in my arms, slowly blinking at the scratches and bruises.

Where had those come from?

It was like I'd been attacked in my sleep or something. Because nothing had happened. Right?

The last thing I remembered was re-filling the spell box in front of my building, then making my way upstairs to eat some chips and watch TV.

I remembered, vaguely, wishing for Chinese food.

But that was where the memories stopped.

Something felt odd about that last memory, though.

As I tried to focus on it, it seemed to slip further and further away. Like a vivid dream upon waking as you desperately tried to hold onto the remnants of it, only to have it slowly fade away.

Shaking those thoughts away, I turned toward my bathroom, realizing I felt sticky from dried sweat.

What had I been sweating about, though? Too much action on my show?

I pushed open my bathroom door, starting to strip out of my clothes as I glanced toward my shower/tub combo.

Only to find it wasn't there.

In its place was the soaking tub of my dreams, big enough to fully submerge in, to swim in.

Huh.

"When did I get that installed?" I asked aloud as I walked over to turn the tap on.

I didn't know when I did it, but I was happy that I had as I slid into the water, feeling it wash away the strange ache in my thigh muscles, the throbbing in the soles of my feet.

As I sank in and rested against the wall of the tub, my eyes drifting closed, a vision flashed across my mind.

A man.

Gorgeous with ice-blue eyes and dark hair, picking me up, cradling me, carrying me, holding and comforting me.

"Huh," I said, jolting upright, blinking at the wall of my bathroom.

That felt very… real.

More like a memory than a fantasy.

Maybe I had a fever, I decided as I climbed back out of the tub, wrapping myself in a towel, then going into my bedroom to change my clothes.

That would explain the sweaty feeling. And maybe even the bruises and cuts. Had I had a fever so high that I'd hallucinated? Hurt myself?

That wouldn't exactly be unusual. My mother would tell me stories about the fevers I used to spike as a child, leaving me hallucinating and scaring the hell out of her.

I didn't typically get sick. Being a homebody meant that I wasn't usually in contact with anyone long enough for them to spread their germs to me.

But, I dunno, I ordered in a lot. Food poisoning was always a possibility. Even if my stomach felt fine. And I didn't have that telltale chill or raw feeling in my nose and throat that came from throwing up.

Well, whatever it was, I was glad it was over, I concluded as I slipped into a pair of yellow fluffy pajama pants with little dogs in the shape of loaves of bread on them.

Another memory flashed so quickly that it disoriented me, making me ram into the edge of my bed.

It was gone so fast it was hard to make it out.

But it involved the same man from my fantasy in the tub.

Maybe I needed to see a doctor, I decided as I made my way back out into the living room.

"Roxy, please," the echo called.

Suddenly, my attention was drawn to the floor in my kitchen. And I couldn't shake this feeling that something was supposed to be there. That something was there.

No.

Not something.

Some one .

But I couldn't see them.

My mind flashed back to the tub, the fantasy that felt too real. The man holding me.

The vision sharpened, pulled into focus, expanded.

Not just holding me.

Looking at the bruises.

Another vision came into focus.

Vines grabbed me, trying to wrap me up. And those same hands that held me fighting them off of me.

Then telling me to run.

But where?

The hedges came into focus.

Winding endlessly.

Not a hedge.

A maze.

No.

A labyrinth.

" Roxy ," the voice called, an aching plea.

And it all came back.

I knew that voice.

"Nathaniel?" I called into the void in front of me.

Then, like a veil being pulled away, there he was. Pale, wide-eyed, but him.

"Roxy." He sighed out my name as his hands went out, grabbing the sides of my face, inspecting me like he expected me to be injured.

"What's going on?" I asked, blinking at the concern in his gaze as he looked at my clothes. He reached for my arms, lifting them, brows scrunching. "What?" I asked, then looked down at myself.

To find the cuts had sealed themselves over. And the bruises had yellow and green around the edges. Like they were healing.

But, no.

That didn't make any sense.

It had only been a few hours.

Right?

"You were in a spell," Nathaniel told me, his hands still lightly holding my wrists. Neither of us seemed inclined to pull away.

His hands felt oddly… warm. You know, for a vampire.

But a shiver still worked its way up my spine regardless.

Yes, of course it was a spell.

I remembered opening the door in the hedge, then stepping into a replica of my apartment. I even remembered sitting down to rest. But then… then it was starting to blur.

There were visions of eating, of drinking, of bathing, and changing. But it was all starting to slip away.

"How long?" I asked, stomach twisting.

"It's hard to tell," he admitted, glancing around. "The world is gone. A day? Maybe longer."

"A day ?" I gasped. "How? Where did you go?"

"It seemed like the deeper you willingly went into the spell, the more it pushed me away. It felt like I was being dragged back, like the labyrinth was trying to spit me out," he admitted. "How did you know?"

"I… I heard you. And then I started remembering things. My shower was suddenly the tub in the hotel. I remembered you carrying me. Then it just all trickled in until I was standing here and it just all flooded back. Were you calling to me the whole time?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, nodding. While I got distracted by the way his thumbs were lazily stroking across the sensitive undersides of my wrists.

I couldn't tell you exactly where the impulse came from. I just knew I didn't fight it when I felt compelled to throw my arms around him, holding on tightly, letting him anchor me back into reality.

"Thank you," I said as his arms went around me. "I could have been lost there forever."

"I was starting to think there was no hope," he admitted, squeezing me tighter. I swear I felt a similar squeeze in my chest too.

"From here on out, no falling for temptations," I said when his arms finally released me, prompting me to take a step back. "At least I'm clean and fed, though," I said as I turned and saw a door that didn't belong in my apartment. "Shall we?" I asked, waving toward it.

"Let's do it this way," he said, reaching down to grab my hand, twining his fingers between mine. "No one drifts away this way," he added as his hand tightened on mine.

"Okay," I agreed, sucking in a deep breath as we moved toward the doorway.

I reached for the knob, then opened the door, and walked us into whatever challenge was next.