Page 23 of Bound to the Dorm Elf
“You’re in a mood,” I say, trying for breezy but landing somewhere closer to wary. I start unpacking: ramen, peanut butter, the emergency pint of rocky road I fully intend to hide in the back of the freezer so Syndee doesn’t “accidentally” eat it.
“They are not what you think.”
His voice is low, almost gravel. It stops my hand halfway to the cupboard. “Bill and Steve?”
“Yes.” He steps farther into the room, slow but purposeful. His height eats up the space like a shadow spilling over the floor. “They are not merely nosy officials. They smell of secrets.”
I blink at him. “You… smell secrets.”
“I smellthem,” he corrects. “And what they are hiding.” He moves to the window, the blinds already closed, and parts them just enough to look outside. “There is a… taste to it. Old. Stale. The scent of something that has hunted for a very long time without being seen.”
The air seems thicker in here suddenly, like his words are stirring dust in the corners I didn’t even know existed. I lean against the counter, crossing my arms. “So, what? They’re some kind of monster hunters? Or… alien hunters?”
His gaze slides to me, the faintest flicker of red in his eyes before the glamour dulls it away. “They huntdifferent. What you would call ‘other.’ But they do not always care what kind of other they take.”
A shiver works its way up my spine. “And now they’ve seen you.”
“They’vemarkedme.” He lets the blinds fall back into place and turns, every movement controlled the way it was in the parking lot — the kind of control that’s less about calm and more about holding something dangerous back. “And by extension… you.”
I bark out a laugh that’s way too sharp. “Fantastic. Love that for me.”
“You joke,” he says, his tone suddenly softer, “because you are afraid.”
I open my mouth, ready to deny it, but the truth is sitting like a stone in my throat. “No, I joke because if I don’t, I’ll start thinking about how two guys in bad suits might actually be the least weird part of my week.”
That gets me the faintest twitch of his mouth — not a smile exactly, but like the memory of one.
I push off the counter and start cramming ramen into the cupboard with more force than necessary. “Look, I don’t know what kind of game you think they’re playing, but this is Earth, okay? You can’t just?—”
“Earth,” he says, the word still foreign in his mouth. “Where the hunters wear friendly faces.”
“Yeah,” I say, slamming the cupboard shut. “Welcome to America.”
We stand there in the kind of silence that’s loud with everything neither of us is saying. His gaze is heavy, but not in the way that makes me want to back up.
I exhale. “So… what do we do? About Bill and Steve?”
He looks at me like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “We stay ahead of them.”
“Okay. And how exactly do you propose we do that? Because unless you’ve got a spaceship stashed somewhere?—”
He shakes his head. “I watch. I listen. I learn this place. And I do not let them catch my scent again.”
It’s such a matter-of-fact declaration that I almost forget how bizarre it is to be having this conversation in my dorm kitchen, fluorescent light buzzing overhead, grocery bags still half-full on the counter.
“Fine,” I say, grabbing the rocky road and heading for the freezer. “But next time,Iget to intimidate someone in the parking lot.”
His head tilts, just enough to make me think he’s considering whether I mean it. Then, very quietly, he says, “If they come for you… you will not need to.”
The freezer door clunks shut louder than I mean it to. I’m not sure if the flutter in my chest is fear or something I should reallynot be feeling toward a guy who might actually be from another dimension.
I turn away so he won’t see my face. “Guess we’ll see.”
Behind me, his voice rumbles low, almost like he’s speaking to himself. “Yes. We will.”
Now I know — Bill and Steve aren’t the only ones I need to keep an eye on.
CHAPTER 9
