Page 22 of Avelina

He wrinkled his brow. “Bear Guy?” he asked, finally looking at me directly.

“Yeah, cuz you’re as big as a bear and I thought about spraying you with my bear spray when I first saw you. But that was before you saved me from a dragon, cooked me dinner, and informed me that I ruined your whole life. That earned you a reprieve from the bear spray.”

“Bear spray?” His brow deepened further, and my attention shifted back to the gash over his right eye. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, but it looked angry. Redness had spread from the wound to the surrounding skin. I still had the antibiotic ointment in my hand. I opened the first aid kit again and rummaged through, looking for iodine and a cotton ball.

“Never mind,” I said, pulling out the iodine and bandages. “Just finish your thought.”

He ignored my suggestion, watching me unscrew the iodine bottle and flip it upside down with the cotton ball on top. “I am nowhere near as big as a bear,” he said. His denial was precious, and a smile spread over my face. “I am not big at all,” he said. “You are as tiny as a fledgling oardoo.”

“What the hell is an oardoo? Wait, no, we’re getting off topic again. Go back to the healing thing. But hold still, I’m gonna clean your wound.” I ripped open the bandage, squeezing antibiotic ointment onto the center to use after I cleaned the wound.

“Healing,” he said, looking at the orange cotton ball dubiously, “is a very helpful skill, but it’s frowned upon.”

“Why?” I asked, then interjected, “This might sting.” I lifted myself up onto my tippy toes to reach his face, but he bent his head forward so I could reach him, and I relaxed down. I dabbed his wound with the cotton ball, and he winced but didn’t move. I waved at the cut so it would dry.

He took a big breath as if he were about to deliver devastating news and said, “It’s frowned upon because it feels . . .”

He looked so uncomfortable as I waved at his face that I thought I knew the answer to my earlier question. His emotion then, as now, was embarrassment—not pain—so . . . he felt deep shame surrounding pleasure? It had definitely been the bath that had unnerved him, not me discovering his ability, I decided. And I think he likes me.

Was this a world of extreme sexual repression? Because that’s basically Hell, especially for someone like me. I’m not exactly known for my immaculate chastity. Marti had once called me her most favorite miscreant. I was beginning to wonder if I had, for real, died in the portal and gone to actual Hell. That made me think of what had happened after all that pain: That had definitely not been Hell. Quite the opposite.

Then an idea bloomed in my mind. I had exited that bridge with all my injuries healed. I had thrown aside my wrist brace, and my chest and ankle were completely fine. What if that was connected to the pleasure at the end of my bridge experience?

My mouth dropped open. “Oh my gosh. I think I know why,” I said, then I stretched the bandage over his wound, pressing the adhesive sides to his forehead. He let me, and as I touched him, I sensed his relief at not having to explain it.

So, to be mean, I patted his forehead and said, “Because it feels like sex.”

Aaron squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. He pulled away from me and covered his face with his hands. It was both sad and adorable and I couldn’t help but laugh. It made me wonder if this enormous thirty-one-year-old man was a virgin. He had been out here alone all this time, supposedly waiting for me, never meeting anyone else, and living in a world where sex is frowned upon?

Yeah, Evilina thought, he might be a virgin. And this is definitely Hell. And holy crap! And, uh, maybe the IUD would be enough protection for us to—

“I should turn in,” I said. “I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to . . . try the healing thing. Ya know, if what I just did doesn’t work.” I gave my handiwork one more look, and then I turned and walked over to the table. I haphazardly stuffed my belongings back inside my bag and headed over to the cot, setting my pack on the floor and flopping myself down. I’m pretty sure he stared after me, but I didn’t look.

A second or two later, he walked over to the privacy screen and dragged it in front of the cot. I wondered why he even had a privacy screen if he was alone out here. It looked old and was painted with little yellow flowers. Maybe it had been his mother’s.

“Aaron,” I said before he finished pulling the screen over. He looked at me from around the side but didn’t answer. “Thanks for . . . rescuing me.”

“Welcome,” he said, one corner of his mouth ticking up. Then he pulled the screen a little more, blocking my view of him.

I exhaled and gave myself a stern lecture about how it was not my job to fix this man’s problems. He was lonely, and I was there and convenient. If this were Earth, he’d seriously have been way out of my league. I’m not hideous or anything, but I’m no Spirit, who performed this amazing magic trick where, upon entering a room, she made everyone else disappear. The thought of her made my heart ache a little.

A quiet clink came from the other side of the screen, then the light went out. I heard Aaron rolling out the second bedroll onto the floor. I looked at my watch. It said 10:30 p.m. I reached down to my pack and grabbed the little toothbrush head out of the side pocket. Aaron had never heard of toothpaste, but he did give me a few semi-dried spearmint leaves to chew. I figured it was probably better to save them for the morning, so I pulled my water bottle out of the bag to use instead. I scrubbed my teeth as I lay there, listening to Aaron breathe.

The bedroll was surprisingly comfortable, like a thin memory foam mattress. This world was full of surprises, it seemed. I finished scrubbing my teeth, then leaned down to tuck the toothbrush head back into the side pocket.

A minute later, I heard Rogue sneaking toward me. He jumped up onto the cot and snuggled his huge body in, half beside me, half on top of me. I thought that I would have a hard time sleeping in this strange world, but Rogue made it almost normal.

His head rested close to mine, and he stretched to lick my face. As he did, I got a powerful emotion from him and I jerked back, surprised. It was pure love. I’d never sensed anything like that from him before, but this feeling was so clear that it left no room for doubt about who he belonged to. I hadn’t realized how worried I’d been about Rogue’s loyalty until relief flooded through me. This was my Rogue.

“I love you, too, Roogy-Roo,” I whispered, smiling at him in the dark.

As I drifted to sleep, one last thought kept running through my mind: Psycho Snow White knew Rogue somehow, and she was the key to getting the information I needed. Maybe he could lead me to her. Maybe I could figure out how to communicate that to him through Connection. I would have to think on it.

Chapter Eight

“I’m sorry, Syndeth,” Linorra said in alarm. “I did not mean to upset you. It’s just that you are so brilliant and beautiful, I would not think to compare you to a human. You’re the loveliest dragon I’ve ever seen. Why, you are made with every color in the rainbow, and you gleam with a magnificent shine.” Linorra did not bother to tell Syndeth that he was only the second dragon that she’d seen. That did not matter. She could not imagine a more stunning creature.

When I awoke, a blanket covered me that was made of the same material as Aaron’s shirt, but thicker. It was too dark to see. I pressed the side button on my watch, and it glowed enough for me to spot Rogue curled up at the foot of the cot.

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