Page 4 of Wanted: A Roommate Who Isn't Evil

There was a grunting-screeching sound in the stairwell whenhe reached the great castle of rooms where his apartment was. He came in by the secret code of numbers the bridge troll hiding in the bricks demanded he be given on his magical buttons—in exchange for safe passage through the doors. In the stairs, a female held a large, solid-wood chair in shaking hands, tilted up at the staircase’s angle. Dranian dropped his one bag of groceries and rushed to catch the chair before it dropped. The furniture piece was a second away from escaping her clutches and taking the female all the way down the stairs with it when he got his grip.

“Oh, thank goodness,” the female said, brushing a bead of sweat from her brow. “Thanks, Dranian.”

Dranian glanced over, realizing it was Beth—the human who owned the entire apartment building castle. She batted her reddish lashes at him. “You totally saved me.”

Dranian tried not to shake beneath the weight of the chair. He inched to adjust the wooden limbs, trying to take the brunt of it with his good arm.

“I was carrying it up to my apartment. You don’t mind, do you?” Beth cast him a smile surely meant to put the taste of sweetness in the air. Her gaze flickered down to the chair in indication.

Dranian swallowed. He looked to the chair, then back at her. She was frightfully small. He could see well that if she attempted to haul a chair of such weight and size by herself again, she’d be crushed by it.

“I will deal with this for you,” Dranian murmured. He inhaled deeply, counting the stairs ahead. Then he lifted,biting back his words and sounds.

By the time he got the thing to the third floor, Beth was clapping. “You’re so strong!” she praised.

Dranian dragged the chair until it was right in front of her apartment door—which just happened to be right across the hall from his.

“I can take it from here!” Beth sang. “Thank you, Dranian!” She pulled out her keys.

Dranian nodded once then dug into his pocket for his own keys. He moved for his apartment, unlocked it, rushed inside, and slammed the door shut. His cry of agony came so fast, he almost released it into the hall before his door could seal it out. He grabbed hold of his injured arm and sank back against the entrance, sliding to a sitting position as his chest pumped air in and out.

“You fool,” he scolded himself.

He sat there like that until he caught his breath. Then he looked around, noticing how dark the apartment was without its drapes drawn, without its lights on. With no one else in it.

He didn’t realize how sleepy he was until he let himself lay back on the floor and stare up at the ceiling. There wasn’t anyone around to disturb his sleep most evenings, but something inside his dreams had been stealing his energy. It had been going on for several weeks now—a thing he couldn’t quite explain aloud if he might ever dare to try.

He was hearing a voice. Thatwas the only way to describe the midnight visitor.

Dranian grunted and refused to think aboutthe voice. The one that showed up, whispering his name in his deepest sleep. The one that kept trying to get him to let it into his mind, into his dreams. The one that sounded just familiar enough to drive him faeborn mad but still reminded him of a stranger.

He wasn’t exactly having nightmares. It wasn’t like what Shayne had been going through before he left on vacation. Dranian’s encounters were a little different than that; a little deeper. A little more unusual.

And in every way, astoundingly annoying.

Dranian finally found it within him to pull himself off his apartment floor. He’d spent half the previous night standing in the kitchen, eating cereal to pass the time, refusing sleep so he didn’t need to hearthe voiceany longer. His midnight choices seemed to be catching up with him now.

He tipped onto his sofa, landing face-first into the plush fabric. Before he knew it, he found slumber.

A knock on the door startled Dranian awake. He thought he’d imagined it, but when the knocking sounded again, he sprang up off the couch and went to answer.

Beth stood there, beaming. Dranian had to blink a few times toadjust his eyes to the hall lights after napping in his dark apartment. He spotted one grocery bag in Beth’s grip. The bottom was damp, and something gooey was dripping from it. Beth followed his gaze to the mess.

“Oh, some idiot left this bag of groceries in the bottom of the stairwell,” she explained with a roll of her eyes. “Now there’s a huge puddle of melted ice cream and the whole apartment entrance stinks like old milk.”

Dranian swallowed and glanced off at a nonexistent scuff on the doorframe. “How horrid of them to do such a thing,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

“Anyway, someone responded to your ad!” Beth exclaimed.

Dranian blinked another few times as he tried to figure out what she was talking about.

“You know, the ad you asked me to put in the paper to find you a roommate?” She reached into his apartment and knocked her knuckles off his head like he was daft. Then she laughed. “How did you already forget?”

Ah. The advertisement. The one Beth had suggested Dranian create after Dranian had informed her he could no longer afford the rent. The one he’d been forced to put in the paper when Shayne left for the kingdom of Florida instead of splitting the cost of a box of space with Dranian like he’d promised.

It would be nice to finally be able to pay the rent on time again.

Dranian stood a little straighter. “I shall meet the fellow right away and decide if he’s worthy,” he promised. “Where is he?”

---