Special - Ch 5
Charlotte’s door clicked shut and I heard the locks engage, still louder than normal. I turned to leave, but Buck was standing in his doorway, watching me with those glowing blue eyes of his. All the softness was gone from his face.
“Let’s chat for a moment,” he said, and stepped back into his apartment. “Come inside.”
I found myself compelled toward him, my legs carrying me to his apartment as though there was no other option.
Shaking it off, I caught myself and stopped on the outside of his threshold.
“About what?” I asked.
He turned and stared at me with surprise, as his eyes lost some of their luminance.
“Impressive.” He nodded. “Come on in.” This time his tone was gentler.
I was hesitant to enter his apartment, invited or not. I didn’t feel comfortable walking into his place. Though it looked bright and well lit, something inside me felt like I would be walking into an animal’s den.
But that’s crazy, right? I lowered my chin and exhaled. And Charlotte’s wings aren’t?
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I want to talk to you.” He crossed his arms. “Charlotte clearly told you what she is. It’s up to me to tell you the rest of it.”
“The rest of what?” I glanced over my shoulder at her door. I wasn’t sure how much more I could handle in one day.
“She’s not the only one who’s special.” Buck’s voice was further away, and against my better judgment, I followed him into his apartment.
I pushed the door closed and looked around. The layout was a mirror image of Charlotte’s, but where hers was decorated in warm browns and gold, Buck’s apartment was stark white, grey, and blue. It reminded me of a ski trip I’d taken in Alaska, and I shivered though the air wasn’t cold.
A grey leather sectional dominated the room and a plush white rug covered the floor in front of it. As my eyes drifted to the artwork on his walls, I took a trembling step toward the door when I realized all the images were wolves.
Not possible.
“You look surprised.” Buck leaned on his kitchen counter holding a steaming mug. He took a sip and pushed off. “Have a seat. I don’t bite humans.”
“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better,” I said, but decided to hear him out.
I lowered myself onto the sectional as he rounded the other end and sat opposite me. Wondering how seriously to take the whole eye contact equals challenge stories I’d heard, I kept my eyes locked on his anyway, as much to keep him in sight as to let him know I wasn’t afraid.
His expression didn’t change, and the pressure eased in my chest. I waved a hand at the pictures on the wall. “I’m going to take a shot in the dark here.”
He lifted the mug and tilted his head. “You’ll probably be right, but it will make you feel better to say it.”
I swallowed. “You’re a werewolf.”
“I knew you were smart.” Buck set the mug on the coffee table and rested his forearms on his knees. He sighed. “Lone wolf, after my wife died.”
“What does that mean?” Again, I had no idea what anything meant when it came to these kinds of things. Maybe my lack of knowledge was keeping me from thinking I was losing my mind, or maybe I’d already lost it and none of this mattered. Either way, I was clueless.
“Don’t read much, do you?” Buck shook his head with a wry grin. “It’s better that way. Authors like to take liberties. Reality is much less exciting than they make it sound.”
“I still don’t understand,” I looked around. “Other than the fact the two of you have some odd physical traits.” I was unnerved as I glanced back to see his eyes glowing again. I swallowed. “You all seem pretty normal.”
His smile was patient. “That’s the thing. Nothing is truly normal. But you. You’re more unusual than I expected.” He regarded me for a moment, then took a sip of the coffee. “All stories come from somewhere. People get glimpses of things that don’t make sense and create a story to explain what they saw. Or someone who knows the truth writes about us and uses just enough reality to make people wonder.” He shrugged. “Anyway. We’re real.”
I shifted forward on the couch. “So, what’s going on between you and Charlotte?”
His eyes narrowed, and for a moment it seemed he wasn’t going to answer. “Her parents hired me to keep an eye on her.”
“A bodyguard?”
“Something like that.” He sat back and stretched an arm along the back of the couch. “More specifically, a guardian. For a pixie, she has good instincts, but she’s new to this world. Pixies are incredibly trusting, known to grow attached to almost anyone who is nice to them. That doesn’t always work out well, so her folks paid me to watch out for her.” His intense eyes bored into mine. “She’s quick and adjusting to living as a human won’t be hard for her, especially as she makes some friends. It’s my job to make sure the people she gets attached to understand what that means.”
“Attached?” The way he said it sounded serious.
His pale eyebrow rose. “Does that surprise you? You’re sitting here because she likes you, and I get the impression the feeling is mutual, or at the very least, could be.” He cocked his head in a very canine way. “Am I wrong?”
I stared, trying to find the right words. Buck watched me struggle for a minute, then sighed. “Let me make this simpler. Do you intend to spend time getting to know her?”
“Yes.”
“Do you intend to lead her on?”
Just like earlier with Charlotte, I knew there was no way I could lie or hedge to get out from under his scrutiny.
“No. I don’t.”
“The fact that she’s a pixie doesn’t bother you?” His eyes brightened.
“Not at all,” I said, and realized, in spite of the shock, it was true.
Buck nodded. “Good. That means I can move on soon. I don’t like staying in one place very long.” He took another sip of his coffee and stood. He crossed the living room and opened the door.
Clearly dismissed, I stood and exited into the hallway. Buck gripped my shoulder.
“Just know this.” He nodded toward her door, and I followed his gaze. “There’s no halfway with a pixie. If she takes a liking to you - and if I know her half as well as I think I do, she already has - that won’t change easily.”
“I hope not,” I whispered, then offered a hand to him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He shook it and stepped back inside.
The door shut and I drew a deep breath. “A pixie and a werewolf all in one day.”
Scrubbing my hands down my face, I took the steps out the door two at a time. When I reached my car, I rested my head on the headrest and pushed the heel of my hands into my eyes.
I knew I would be back, but my head needed the open road and a responsive gas pedal for a few hours.
'Special' is unpublished and unedited. Short stories may or may not be complete and may end on a cliffhanger. All works are the sole property of Michelle Bolanger and published through Risen Fiction. Copyright 2025 Michelle Bolanger. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be copied or reproduced without written consent from the author.