Chapter 4

The moment this human, Brandon Fernandez, bursts into my new dorm room, he ignites a palpable desire within me to drag him to the underground world and force him to give me his soul.

My fingers suffer with the need to touch him. I am lightheaded. Something shifts near my heart, my breath seizes in my lungs, and I fight the yearning to take him. Could this desire overpower me?

It had better not. I have seen the pain my wretched nokk father caused my poor human mother.

Brandon is so beautiful that he is hard to look at. His curly, dark brown hair tumbles around his chiseled, perfectly proportioned face. His brown eyes dance with mirth and mischief. Dimples flash in his cheeks. Dimples! His ripped shirt exposes the dark tan, hairless skin covering his broad torso. Silvery stretch marks move as his stomach goes in and out. A brown nipple peeks out at me. This Adonis must be mine.

At least, that is my first reaction.

My next is to flee … to save him. No one who seems so pure should be around a soulless monster like me. My desire to rescue him grows even more acute when, after a moment's hesitation, he opens his smiling mouth and continues cheerfully chattering away.

"Yes, I'm like this. So, tell me everything about you! What's it like being a nokk? Where are you from in Norway? How was your flight? When did you get to the US?" Brandon asks, his eyes alight. His fingers grip the back of the chair as he straddles it, and sexy veins snake up his forearms. I want to lick them.

With each new rapid-fire question, I lose the previous one, so I can only answer the last. "I arrived in New York this morning."

"You must be exhausted. You'll have jet lag." He leans toward me, bringing with him the mingled scents of sunshine, salt water, and pi?a colada sunscreen. I shudder in pleasure. Those three things may be my downfall. His skin looks velvety soft. "I went to Tokyo once for water polo—my varsity high school team made it to the international championships. And oh, man, the jet lag got to me. Although I don't think the time difference between Norway and Pennsylvania is the same as Arizona to Tokyo. Do you need to take a nap?"

If he had not told me he was a water polo player, I would have figured out that he did something in the water from his swimmer's build—narrow hips, broad shoulders—but also from the sun-lightened ends of his wild, dark hair. I glance away and look out the window. What would he feel like next to me? His warm body against mine? That is a very dangerous thing for me to be contemplating.

What was his question?

"I have periods where I recharge and periods when I am active. I do not always need to sleep. When I am here—in the human realm—I tend to follow human rhythms. So, yes, I think I am tired."

Is he going to pepper me with questions forever?

"Aww. Well, maybe you can get to sleep early. Say, the Witchipedia article I read said nokks are shapeshifters. Are you?"

Apparently so. "Yes." I sigh.

"So why did you choose this shape?" He appraises me, and I bloom under his gaze. "If you could be anything, why did you decide to look like this, specifically?" I stare at him, but he does not shrink from my gaze. "Sorry, is that a rude question?"

"No, it is not rude." I shrug and try to think of a way to tell him why without revealing too much. I shapeshift because I despise my true form. It is hideous and repellent. I finally add, "I do not know. This is an easy form for me to be in." Relatively easy.

"I have so many questions," he continues. "The article said you—nokks—take the shape of a handsome man to lure women to water. So is that why you picked this form?"

" People , not just women," I correct, my cheeks hot. He thinks I am handsome?

Brandon raises an eyebrow. "People, then. Why do you lure them in?"

I do not. I never have. But now I understand why the nokk take souls.

Because I lust for you, Brandon. Because I fantasize about what I would do to you. Because you triggered something within me that no other human ever has.

Those are not the right answers, and I cannot say those things to him anyway. "Why do any of us do anything?" I huff. "It is what I am supposed to do. My nature. Are you always this full of questions?"

"Yeah. Kinda." He kicks the carpet with his heel. "Sorry."

Now I feel bad. "It is okay." Maybe I can change the subject by giving him some unthreatening information about myself. "I am at home in the water. I chose Creelin because of its proximity to the Cree and Lin Rivers—in addition to its music program, of course."

He gives me the brightest smile I've ever seen. I want to capture it. Make it the centerpiece of my existence. Do anything to make him smile again and again. "Excellent. I love the rivers. My teammates and I hang out at them all the time. You should join us!" Dimples again.

I want to learn everything I can about this human, but I must not allow myself to. The more I know, the more I will want to take his soul. I feel that thirst as a soreness in my chest. I nod instead, trying to calm my accelerating breaths.

"Can I keep asking you questions?" he asks. Resigned, I nod again, and Brandon scratches his belly. "Is it true that nokks are an omen of death?"

"No. We are an omen of drowning, not death."

Brandon scrunches up his face to think about that, and it is bloody adorable. I need to have him. I can take him.

I must resist.

He bites his lip, and I want to be the one doing that. "But isn't that the same thing?" he asks.

"Not always."

"Hmm. Witchipedia was wrong." He taps the back of the chair and pushes himself up, then gestures at the brown bag he gave me, which I set on the bed. His waist is just below my eye level, and I cannot help but look at his shorts, which have a mouthwatering bulge. I want it. I want him . "Do you want to keep the spider or let it go?"

"I am not sure how to care for a spider. If you are in agreement with me doing so, then I will let it go."

"And you said you didn't want to sing the song from Frozen ." Brandon winks.

Despite my discomfort with being in a new place and Brandon's overwhelmingly beautiful presence, I laugh.

"Do you ever shapeshift into a horse?" He steps closer to me, and I hold my breath, because he is too alluring. My cock thickens in my tight jeans.

"Sorry?" I say, clenching my fists and releasing them.

"In Frozen II , the nokk was a horse. Or kind of water and a horse?"

"That is a brook horse. They are … a cousin. Something different. Or sometimes they can be a nokk in disguise. But I have never taken its form."

"Oh, okay." He runs a hand through his hair. "I'm kinda hungry. Do you wanna come to the cafeteria with me?"

I do. I want to know more about this strange, gorgeous man. I sit on my hands. "No."

"Need time to unpack, huh? I'll leave you to it. Want me to bring you back something?"

Keeping him safe takes precedence—he needs to stay away from me. I shall figure out food later. "No."

"Cool, man. I think I should wear a real shirt to the cafeteria, though. Not this ripped-up thing. Air conditioning."

Brandon whips off his shirt. His belly button is distractingly cute, surrounded by the pretty silver stretch marks on his abdomen. He strides past me to the dresser, and I do my best to avoid memorizing the planes of his very beautiful back. It is proving difficult to know where to place my eyes—other than staring at my feet—because this room is very small. Finally, Brandon pulls out a white T-shirt and shrugs it on.

I touch my face and rub my temples, trying to distract myself from him.

"What's your cell phone number?" he asks.

I drop my hands. "Sorry?"

"In case of emergency or whatever, we should be able to get in touch with each other." He pauses. "You do use cell phones, right? I know you're a water spirit, so does it get all wet when you go in the water?"

Gods. Brandon all wet. My cock is really going to get hard. "I do not go in the water with my mobile, and I only use one when I am in the human world. When I am in, um, where I am from, I do not need one to communicate."

Please go. I want you too much, and I cannot have you. You need to leave, Brandon .

"Oh, interesting. By the way, how come you speak English so well?"

"I went to monster school in Bergen. We are taught English from an early age."

Brandon wiggles his cell phone. "Number, please." He opens up a contact expectantly.

This man wants to have access to me beyond this room. I. Am. Fucked.

"I do not have my US number memorized yet," I say, pulling out my phone. I should not encourage more contact between us, but "No, because I want you too much" and "You have triggered my nokk instincts to possess you" are not things to say out loud.

"So I just put you in here as Steve? That's it?"

"You can list my last name as Jobs."

He stares at me. "You're kidding."

"When I was in the store getting the number, they asked my name, and that is what I told them."

Brandon starts giggling, and it is infectious. Something floats up out of my chest into the heavens. "Okay, so I'm rooming with ‘Steve Jobs' from Norway. Only not really," he says. He types, then looks up. "Hit me."

I tell him my number, and he enters it in his phone, then texts me a string of emojis—thumbs-up, laughing face, sunglasses face, alien face, clapping hands, and merman. I am not sure what to think. But I am preoccupied with every single one of them. What do they mean? What do they say about Brandon? Will they bring me closer to him?

I cannot get closer to him, I scold myself.

"Text me if you change your mind and want me to bring you something back from the cafeteria. And call me Bran if you like. That's what my friends call me. Or Fernandez—I'll answer to that, too. My friends think I'm weird, because I only text emojis, but I'm sure you'll figure it out. Adios!" He waves and is gone, the door clicking quietly behind him.

I blink at it.

When he was here, it was all I could do to control myself, keep myself from taking him, but I can breathe easier now.

This is going to be a very long year. I can tell my fixation on him is only beginning.

I am curious about his gift, so I open the paper bag. As I expected, there is a large clear bottle of some kind of vodka, which I set on my bookshelf. It looks forlorn, since there are no other decorations on my side of the room. It is not the traditional liquor, brennevin, which I imagine might be hard to find in the US. But he gave it to me, and I will treasure it.

Next, I pull out a small jar with a hole punched in the top as if someone used a claw to puncture it. The spider is small, but alive. I open the window and let it climb out to the nearest tree branch. I kind of want it to come back, but it is better for the spider to live outside.

The jar is pretty, and I set it on the windowsill. I wonder where it is from.

Would Brandon's soul fit inside it? It would not stay long, given the hole in the top, I suppose.

Do not think of such things.

I reach in to make sure the bag is empty and feel a painful slice across the pad of my finger. I pull back my hand. A bead of blood is forming where I have been cut on a sharp edge of some kind. I suck my finger, then pull out a clear, rectangular glass microscope slide with a square cover over a smudge of blood.

Brandon Fernandez gave me his blood . He said that earlier, but I had not processed what he meant, given how overwhelmed I was by him .

Oh gods, no. Panic races through my veins, and I realize what is happening too late. Before I can stop it, the blood from my cut migrates under the square cover and mingles with his.

A surge of power rips through me, zinging across my skin and making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I suck in a breath. Does he realize what he has done?

He has initiated the bonding.

Not only has he triggered the nokk instinct to take his soul within me, he has taken the first step toward voluntary mating.

I must save him. I need to find another roommate. I cannot make Brandon suffer without a soul, nor can we be bonded, especially without his informed consent.

I grab my room key and bolt out, bashing my hip on the doorknob in my haste. Quite a few people are carrying boxes and bags into the dorms, while others appear to be headed in groups to the cafeteria for a late lunch or early dinner. As I race across campus, a number of students—mostly shifters, I think—are throwing Frisbees or sitting on the lawns in the quad, playing on their phones and talking. They all seem to be monsters, which makes sense, because I was told most of the humans are arriving tomorrow. At least, no one else calls to me the way Brandon does.

In the administration building, I go to the housing office. I reach the window right before a vampire, who slides behind me. I pace, waiting to be noticed.

A zombie wearing a twin set and a scarf over her shoulders looks up at me from behind the counter. "May-may I help you?" Her voice is a moaning rasp punctuated by grunts, but pleasant enough. I am impressed that a zombie can speak so well. But CU is run by ghosts and zombies, so maybe some are more articulate than others.

"I need to switch rooms." My voice wavers. "My roommate and I are not going to be able to live together in harmony."

She clucks her tongue, her words slurring. "I'm so-sorry to hear that. You can pu-put in a transfer request, which we'll evaluate in about two-two weeks."

"Two weeks?" My nerves go haywire, and my chest hurts. I try to control my panic. That may be too late. I wring my hands.

The zombie nods. "Could be-be three." She grunts. "Enrollment sort-sorted out first, and then we move-move people."

For a moment, I am unable to speak. Finally, I say, "Okay, well." Better late than never. I will just have to avoid him as much as possible until I can leave. "Please put me on the list."

"Yessss." She hands me a clipboard to fill out. My hands jerk, and I drop the pen and have to pick it up.

I can do this.

Then I pause, my hand suspended, as I stare at the question marked "Name." My mind blanks, and I sigh. It has been a long day, and I do not have the energy for this. Calm down . I clear my throat. "I am not sure how to fill this out. I do not remember what I put on the transfer forms for my name."

She tilts her head and grunts. "You're the nokk?"

"Yes."

The vampire behind me stiffens. I wonder why. Does he not like nokks? I am not sure if there are any others in the United States right now.

The administrator slurs, "We know-know your name issues. Put-put down ‘the nokk,' and we'll take care-care of you. Do-do you have a pseudonym?"

"Steve," I say.

The zombie smiles at me. At least, I think it's a smile. It is more of a grimace, but it seems kindly. Maybe. "I'll note it. Do-do you request we call you-you that?"

"Please."

With minimal extra assistance, I finish filling out the form and hand it back to her. "Two-two weeks at the earliest," she reiterates. "It may be long-longer. For now, I suggest you-you settle in as best you can."

Exhaustion suffuses my body, but I force myself not to yawn. My phone pings, and it is Brandon. He has sent me another string of emojis: thumbs-up, waving hand, stick of butter, pretzel, slice of pizza.

What by the monster gods does that mean?

But he texted me. It makes my heart beat faster, which I am sure some of the monsters around can sense.

The zombie administrator hands me a copy of the form. "Here-here you go," she says.

"Thank you. Please let me know about the room change as soon as possible," I say. "It is absolutely urgent."

"Yes-yes. Next?"

As I turn to go, the vampire in line behind me looks at me as if he is sizing me up. I ignore him.

I walk back to the dorm and consider whether I should unpack my bags. I could go stay in a hotel for the next couple of weeks. But that might insult Brandon. I can instead use the time to come up with an excuse to leave that will not make him feel bad.

When I step into the room, I look around. Now that I have met him, the space is charged with his presence. His blood on the slide. His scent. Hints of his personality, with a water polo game schedule and a poster for a movie called The Princess Bride on the wall.

If I have to remain, I may as well move in for the time being, so I go about setting my clothes in the dresser, my laptop on the desk, and my guitar and violin in the closet. I should eat something, but the time difference and travel are catching up to me, and I feel lethargic. I drink a glass of water from the en suite bathroom sink before pulling a pillow, sheet, and duvet out of one of my bags and making up my bed. Then I undress and crawl in, even though it is not late at all.

I would be more comfortable if I shifted into my true form, but I cannot chance Brandon seeing it—both because it would frighten him and because he would never speak to me again if he knew what I really look like. Of course, for his sake, it would be better if we did not talk to each other … but I will admit I like hearing his voice. My cock likes it, too, but I do not jerk off. I would not want him to walk in on me. My cock hard, I sink into sleep the moment my head hits the pillow, the travel and distance overpowering me.

In my dreams, the deep fjords of Norway are framed by tall mountains. I am swimming with the silver fishes in the cool darkness. Then I am naked with a warm, gorgeous Brandon, whose soft skin I explore. Rub up on. Lick. Kiss.

I wake very early the next morning, before the sun rises, and my sheets are soaked with my spend, as if I were a teenager. My handsome roommate is asleep in his bed two meters away from me, his curls spread across his pillow. I did not hear him come in. I suppose I needed to sleep more than I originally thought.

While I want to study him, I feel horrible. The dehydration water spirits feel when we are away from a water source is like a hangover. Pounding headache, nausea, dry mouth, and disorientation—I have all of that right now.

A shower may alleviate some of the symptoms, and I need to wash my sheets.

I bring my clothes and toiletries into the bathroom and step under the spray of the shower. The water revives me somewhat. I stay there as long as I can, then dress and return to our bedroom.

Brandon is gone.

Part of me is relieved. Part of me wants to hunt him down and force him to be mine.

I haul my sheets to the laundry room and then sit on my bed until boredom and cabin fever overwhelm me and I am compelled to go outside. I take off to explore the campus and find where my classes are, so I will be ready when they start on Monday. Then I return, put my sheets in the dryer, and slip out again.

When I go down to the river, though, I find that there are many students, including merfolk and selkies, along its banks. I am not used to being with other people when I recharge. I decide I will come back later. I turn and walk away.

I sneak into the dormitory in case Brandon has returned, but he is still not there. Once my laundry is dry and I can remake my bed, I will walk into town. I intend to stay away from the dorm room that houses the one thing that I cannot have.