Page 12 of Taurus's Quest
They arrived in a plain room containing only the arch he stepped out of.
To his relief, Circe had lost consciousness, the second transport in quick succession more than her body could handle.
But her drooling and limp state led to a new dilemma. What to do with her? He couldn’t leave her in the shop, not if he wanted her to think she’d had a vivid dream. Guess, he’d have to take her home, assuming he could figure out where she lived.
As he headed out of the portal room, he spotted a satchel on the floor. Shifting Circe to dangle over his shoulder, he scooped the bag and dug inside, looking for a wallet. Found it and an identification card that listed her address.
The padlock on the back door of the shop didn’t take long to break, and within five minutes—because he jogged to get the task done—he had Circe inside her apartment and tucked into her bed. Being chivalrous—AKA not a perv!—he left her clothes on and removed only her shoes and cloak.
With a final glance at the sleeping Greek beauty, Taurus left, wondering if he’d ever see her again.
Chapter 4
Circe woke in her bed, which jarred more than it should have. For one, she had no recollection of making it home. For another, she still wore her clothes. And finally… why did the feel of the man’s lips from her dream seem to linger?
A dream so vivid that she could recall everything with precision, including how it felt when Taurus—that giant beast of a man—had swept her into his arms and effortlessly carried her. A tall woman, who, while not fat, also couldn’t be called light, she’d never experienced the like and never would again because it hadn’t happened. Really, teleporting arches, a magical tower, men claiming to be warriors blessed by stars? Utterly ridiculous, and yet the details proved as vivid as a memory.
Despite not being due in to work until eight, she rolled out of bed and headed right for the shower. A long and hot one with lots of soap that finally dispelled the tingling in her lips left behind by her dream man. A man who wouldn’t usually be her type with all those giant muscles and that hideous beard. She usually preferred more academic types.
Once she’d dressed, Circe headed into the kitchen to feed her screaming stomach. She’d obviously skipped dinner.
Because I was locked in that shop.
Or was that part of the dream, too? Perhaps she’d made it home before the storm and never entered the store full of Zodiac junk. Plausible, seeing how the cloak thrown over the back of the couch showed no signs of dampness, indicating she’d outrun the rain. Odd, though, that she’d not hung it on the rack. She liked to keep her place tidy.
Even stranger, why couldn’t she remember getting home and going to bed? Had she suddenly taken ill? Whatever the cause, she felt fine this morning. No fever, no aches, no stuffy head. Still, perhaps she should schedule an appointment with her doctor.
She left for work slightly earlier than usual, not only because of the construction, which she’d not imagined, but because she wanted to walk down the street with the shop and prove to herself that she’d imagined it. Only, it turned out the place actually existed.
For several minutes, she stood in front of the window showcasing Zodiac items. Okay, so maybe she had gotten stranded inside, but how had she escaped and ended up in her bed? Had the basement room she’d entered poisoned her with some kind of gas? The kind that wiped memories?
Because no way did I teleport to some tower and meet a man who is some avatar warrior for the stars.
Despite the store not opening for another hour, the lights were on. On impulse, she tried the door, and to her surprise, it opened.
She cracked it a few inches, not enough to trigger the bells, and heard two guys arguing.
“…left the shop without checking.”
“Sorry. I was in a rush to get to the hospital.”
“Everything okay?”
“Not really. This pregnancy isn’t going as smoothly as Anna’s first one. The doctor put her on bed rest.”
“Which sucks, man, I get it, but you have responsibilities.”
That voice. It sounded just like Taurus from her dream. Impossible, and she would prove it by confronting him. She pushed the door fully open, causing the bells overhead to tinkle. Immediately the talking ceased.
A man exited the back, big, square, clean-shaven, unlike Taurus with his frizzy chin mop.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
The tenor indicated he was the one with a wife. “Hi, I was hoping to speak with the other person here.”
His expression went blank. “I’m sorry. There’s just me.”
Why would he lie? “I heard you talking to someone.”
