Sensing my rising panic (though it was hard to miss), his arm around my back shifted up and his fingers curled around the back of my neck as he leaned close and said gently, “There are many what ifs, my love, but this is also the only hope we have. Right now, we are powerless. But if there is any possibility this witch can control the blue mist then we must speak to her, ascertain if she can control it and, if she can, convince her to use it to send us home.”
I stared into his eyes thinking he was right at the same time thinking that sucked.
Therefore I sighed, Tor knew that meant I was giving in and he grinned, giving my neck a squeeze and pulling me to him until my cheek was resting on his shoulder.
“You guys are totally cute,” Phoebe announced, smiling brightly at us then her eyes slid to Tor. “Dude, you are, like, crazy hot in a scary macho way but, still, you know how to work the cute.”
I couldn’t help it, I was freaking out but still, what Phoebe said made me giggle.
Then her phone rang, she jerked it up, looked at it and said to us, “Brianna,” then she flipped it open, put it to her ear and wandered back toward the kitchen ordering bossily, “Talk to me.”
Then she disappeared.
Then I heard Tor mutter, “Your friend is very strange.”
Then, still freaking out but also still unable to help it, I wrapped my arm around his abs, pressed close and burst out laughing.
Chapter Twenty-Five
You Hold the Other Half of My Soul
We sat in the coffee house; Tor resting back against his chair, legs straight out, ankles crossed, sipping regular coffee, calm as you please; me with my legs crossed, foot bouncing, fingers of one hand tapping on the table while slugging back my third latte (decaf due to confirmed pregnancy – yikes!), not calm by a long shot but wired like I’d actually had a shitload of caffeine.
“Love,” Tor called and I turned my head to him, surprised to see his eyes on me. A minute ago, he was taking in the bustling environs of the coffee house and the busy slick sidewalks outside with avid interest.
“Yes?” I replied.
He leaned in as his hand came out and covered my tapping fingers, his fingers wrapping warmly around mine.
“Calm,” he said quietly.
Yeah, right. Calm.
We were waiting for Brianna and her friend to show at the same time we were waiting for Phoebe, who was hanging at my place, having volunteered to hand Noc his packed suitcase personally and see if she could pump him for information.
I wasn’t all fired up about this controlling blue mist magic business and I wasn’t because anything could go wrong. What if the world this Circe had been to wasn’t the Korwahk on Tor’s world? What if there were a bunch of worlds and Tor and/or me were sent to one of those – where there were savages and mighty kings with the strength of ten men?
Not to mention, what if Phoebe did something to alert Noc to the fact that all was not right with the Cora he knew and set him to doing something that would not bode well for Tor and me? And, I should mention, I wasn’t hip on Phoebe being involved in any of this, especially not Noc investigating the other Cora. My friend wasn’t exactly a super-sleuth. She was an administrative assistant, like me. And she couldn’t be swept away to a safe fairytale land, like me. She would be stuck behind, maybe considered an accomplice in whatever Cora was up to… or something.
But Phoebe had no qualms about wading in and actually seemed excited to be in on it all.
Then again, as I had mentioned before, Phoebe was more than a little nuts.
But too much could go wrong. I wasn’t all fired up to be at the mercy of blue mist magic or whatever Noc was doing with Cora but I was equally not fired up about sticking my nose in where it might not belong. And, it had to be said, I had no interest at all in melting.
“Tor –” I started, his eyes slid to the side and his jaw went scary hard.
I looked to where he was looking to see a man holding a paper cup with a cardboard sleeve staring at my crossed legs as he passed by. Tor moved, the man’s eyes moved to Tor, his face blanched and he hurried away.
I looked at Tor to see him turning in his seat in order to continue scowling frighteningly at the man’s back and I twisted my hand so I could squeeze his fingers.
“Honey,” I called softly and his gaze sliced to me.
“Although your garments are becoming, Cora, I do not like the amount of skin they expose,” he growled.
“Tor –”
He cut me off with, “You have lovely legs.”
Wow. That was nice.
I smiled at him. “Thanks, baby.”
His face went as hard as his jaw. “Too lovely,” he went on. “And they are mine and I do not like that other men gaze at them.”
Oh boy.
“Tor, this is how we dress in my world,” I told him something he had to know for I was wearing another little dress with a light cardigan and high heels but there were other women around us in Capri pants, mini-skirts, skintight tees or tops with huge-ass cle**age. It wasn’t like he was blind.
“I am aware of that, Cora, but that does not mean I have to like how you dress in this world.”
I held my breath, waiting for him to say something Tor-like to piss me off, like I had to go home and change into something he preferred, say, a floor length granny ball gown that covered me from neck to wrist to ankle. But, surprisingly, he did not say this. He let my hand go and his eyes slid around the room. Then the anger faded from his face and it grew pensive.
“Tor?” I called and his eyes moved back to me. Before I could ask what was on his mind, he told me.
“Why are you not taken in this world?”
“Sorry?” I asked.
“You are very beautiful,” he stated as if this was fact and my belly melted and continued to melt as he carried on. “Far more beautiful than any woman I have seen not only in my own world but especially in this one. There is no compare.”
“Tor,” I whispered, my heart growing light.
“This does not make sense to me. If the Cora of my world had not been destined for me, men would fight battles for her. They did write songs and poems to her beauty. She might not be likable but that didn’t mean her beauty was not desirous and greatly admired. You hold not only her beauty but a kind heart and a sharp wit. It is…” he paused, “strange that no man has claimed you.”
Jeez, I loved this guy.
“Um… the dating game is different in this world and –” I started.
“Dating game?”