3. Allan

Chapter three

Allan

W riggling my toes, I could feel sheets wrapped around my feet, constricting them, which was odd because it also felt like I was in a bed and not in the tent in my sleeping bag.

Come to think of it, I was really warm and toasty.

I must have slept in, and considering the amount of alcohol I consumed last night, that tracked. Everyone knows that a tent heats up as soon as the sun rises.

I shimmied around in my cocoon to sleep on my side.

Pulling the pillows under me, I propped my head, so my neck was supported, and my noggin lay at the perfect angle.

Wait.

What?

I hadn't brought a pillow to Shawn and Dylan's ridiculous camping excursion.

My eyes popped open.

I was in a bed. Tightly wrapped in sheets, and…

I spied several twigs with dried crispy leaves strewn all over, some were tangled in my hair, and one was stuck to my face. They smelled good, but why was it in the bed?

And whose bed?

I tried to sit up.

The whole world spun, and a demon dog reared its head directly beside the strange bed I was in, scaring the shit out of me.

Ruff . Except it was more a snort than a ruff.

Caw , shrieked from above my head.

"What the fuck!" I launched myself forward, then turned and found myself eye to beak with a monster-sized black bird.

Caw . It flapped its wings.

Spinning and tilting, my balance out of whack, I had the distinct impression the black eagle thing was gonna kill me. I leaped out of bed, over the dog, only to land with the sheets tangled around my feet.

One foot lurched forward in an attempt to catch my balance. But the strangulating material wrapped itself tighter around me and down I went.

Smack.

"For fuck's sake." I grabbed the back of my head and rubbed the spot where it had collided with the hardwood.

Caw!

"Okay, look, you demonic pterodactyl, just take it easy." I put up a hand toward the flying predator.

Its head pecked at the headboard rapidly several times. Splinters of wood flew in all directions as deep gouge marks marred the wooden headboard.

Caw .

A mass of feathers fluttered as it launched itself out the window.

I sighed. Relieved.

"Thank god." Sitting up on my haunches, I cradled my head, and rocked for a moment, trying to equalize the spinning and tame the pounding in my brain.

I've had lots of hangovers, but this was a fuckin' doozy.

Ruff .

"Oh, shit." I'd forgotten about the horse of a dog. As I clutched my chest, my heartbeat pounding furiously against my ribcage, sweat poured down my back. The room swam, nausea stirring in my gut.

I need a bucket.

The four-footed beast padded over to me. I scuttled back on my butt, still wrapped in cream bed sheets, hoping the mini horse wasn't going to eat me. I pulled the sheet over my head for protection.

The dog nuzzled me under the arm.

Ruff .

I lowered the sheet to see big brown eyes staring at me and a massive tail wagging.

Thump, thump, thump.

"Where the fuck am I?" The dog abandoned me and trotted off.

Glancing around the room, I got a full look of the bed I had slept in. Queen-sized, beautifully carved wood head– and footboards, slightly marred from the demon feathered beast, and a smattering of dried plants remained scattered within the linens. Sheets lay askew from my escape attempt. A veritable potpourri had tumbled out and now littered the floor. I picked up several tidbits trying to discern what they were, but I gave up on that.

There was a glass of water on the side table.

In that very moment, water seemed like the best thing in the entire world.

My head throbbed, and my thoughts were shrouded in a haze.

A head-pounding, booze-induced fog.

But my body ached and felt…tingly?

That was when I noticed I was naked.

There wasn't a lick of clothes anywhere to be had.

"What the fuck happened last night?"

I scanned the room, trying to get my bearings, and attempted to figure out the massive blank space of memory. The last thing I remembered was skinny-dipping with the guys and playing around with Brent.

"Ugh. Gross, why did I do that?" Just the thought of my ex naked brought bile to the back of my throat.

The room seemed cheery enough, however rustic. The walls were wooden logs horizontally laid on top of one another. Bookcases lined the perimeter of the room and an odd assortment of items presented themselves on the numerous shelves.

Rocks of all sorts, differing sizes and colors sat together in one area. Bundles of dried plant bits wrapped in twine hung from the top edges of the bookcases. A library full of books, some modern, others old with either cloth or leather bindings filled the rest of the shelves.

And a massive collection of jars full of goo and jelly, and god knew what else, took up an entire wall of shelves.

A desk sat at the far end of the room and, above it, the open window where the velociraptor had disappeared.

The dog reappeared in the doorway, then sauntered over to me and dropped a book in my lap.

The dog fwomped onto the hardwood floor as it sat beside me, watching my every move.

I stared at the dog.

He stared back.

We continued on with our contest of wills until he nuzzled my arm.

"What?"

He glanced at the book, then nuzzled my arm again.

"You want me to read the book?" I squinted as I talked to the dog.

Which was ludicrous. Like the beast was going to understand me.

But, with my words, he let his front paws slip out in front of him, and he lay down beside me.

Shrugging, I picked up the book, flipped it over, and read the cover:

A Magician's Handbook to the Elements .

I glanced one way and then another, spying out all the oddities in the room.

Suddenly, the masks that hung on the wall took on a more menacing tone. The dead animal skulls and bones in one corner of the bedroom became far more sinister.

"Where the fuck am I, and what the hell is this Hansel and Gretel shit?"